It was empty, that instrument. They could not give enough breath, they could not breathe in it. They have thrown it away. And he, he took it… He was only half a man. He played like a … Madonna Santissima!

Branko noticed, on his digital map, a more valuable creature called a Serbox. It was extracting and retracting tongues from its hands. It was dancing like a Cossack outside of a destroyed public housing project.

A review of Time Magazine and American Family Insurance's Martin Luther King virtual reality exhibit.

Systematic racism and capitalism were also related via thematic arguments to the creation of the canapés. In their “glib” and “hurtful” stance toward death, the little creams had endorsed the city's divergent life expediencies.

The still circle of them looked to me like a gathering of Soviets in brown greatcoats around a fire.

We immortalize a dream for a few years, with something that looks like a phallus no matter what it is supposed to represent, and then we tear it down.

The rose company is back in business. The rotten tomato company has never worried about business!

Sad, young, online people talk about Marianne Williamson, about their parents, and about animals with the same pathos with which one mourns a lost childhood.