
The Empire has no Clothes
Every morning, schoolchildren in the United States are made to stand, place palms to hearts, and recite an allegiance pledge … Continue reading The Empire has no Clothes
Every morning, schoolchildren in the United States are made to stand, place palms to hearts, and recite an allegiance pledge … Continue reading The Empire has no Clothes
What do you do, reader, when caught in the vicegrip of nostalgia? For me, flipping through old pictures is the … Continue reading Photo Diary: India
Writing has not come easy over the past six months. Some more hardened penmen thrive, and even seek out, their … Continue reading The Danish Mirror
This month marks two years since I began writing A Wayward Duck. If you’ve been with me since the beginning, you … Continue reading Voice of Another: Placeless in Lviv, Ukraine
About a year and eight months ago, when the US presidential election was in full swing, I channeled everything I … Continue reading Reflection on the Times
“We will not refer to him by name.” Our guide, Julio, sets some ground rules for the day. So far … Continue reading Entering Escobar’s Circle
I meet Rafael in the Plaza Mayor of Trinidad. Sitting on a bench in the shade, toting a cowboy hat, … Continue reading Until the Victory, Always
After perusing the streets of Havana for an hour, we find our car. It is a pink 1956 Ford Thunderbird … Continue reading The Island that Resisted
I am pushing a pastel, blue-tinted 1956 Chevy Plymouth through the streets of Havana. To my right I am flanked … Continue reading My Letter from Cuba
*Creeeeaaak* The rusted gears of the century-old metal door turn slowly behind us with a ghastly noise and shuts with … Continue reading The Sandinista Specter