Tweaking Language Mar04

Tweaking Language

This week, I learned that apparently a cartoon series for girls is racist, that there was a war on Wikipedia about the gender of Garfield, and that Cardiff Metropolitan University banned words such as manpower and girls. This trend is going to continue. So, I’ve decided to help universities, writers, movie makers, and other creators make some more changes to the language and some titles of known works in order to avoid offending someone’s feelings. And if you’re one of them reading this, you’re welcome. I’ve even put them into nice little categories for easy classification: Everyday Phrases An arm and a leg...

Why Don’t Indie Writers Just Shoot Themselves? Mar12

Why Don’t Indie Writ...

As difficult and exhausting as writing can be, nothing compares to the challenges and sheer misery of self publishing. Just the huge numbers of electronic avenues makes this experience quite daunting. (I run into that word quite often). And as many of us have come to realize, it’s not...

Robbie Gruder’s Review of “What a Girl Wants”...

My American Lit prof is one of those braniac guys, even though he’s only like two years older than me and is always saying stuff like, “Even fiction is fiction,” which is hard for me to get, because what else could it be? But I think it actually makes sense, because he’s a postmodernist. And some other post something I can’t exactly remember. And he’s pretty skinny, and his skin’s so pale it reminds me of cookie-dough ice cream—it’s what some of my friends call a library tan. But one of the things I wrote down in my notes is there’s no significant division between so-called “high” art and “low” art (which surprised me because at first I...

Love Stinks Sep13

Love Stinks

Love stinks. It smells like pee. At least it did that summer evening when my friend was riding the subway under the streets of Mexico City where nearly twenty-nine million people scurried overhead. He’d been alone in his seat for some time when a wall-eyed young man, as torn and disordered as yesterday’s newspaper, wandered down the aisle. They glanced at each other and my offered the apparently homeless man a smile. That was invitation enough. The raggedy man swung into the seat next to my friend and began an animated conversation in a language so garbled that not a word could be understood. It was obvious he had a disability and perhaps...