The Meaning of Existence (and all that)

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Sanctuary, Sort Of

    Sometimes our personal sanctuary can be found in the last place we’d expect.

Start: It had been a while since I’d ridden a city bus.

Seven weeks ago in my work life I contemplated using public transit for my daily commute. There’s a bunch or reasons, but really what it came down to was figuring out if the Clark County transit system is a viable option at all.

I live in Las Vegas, Nevada. Not the coolest place in the world. We actually get snow once in a blue moon, but it’s almost as rare as an honest politician. We’ve entered the serious heat of summer now (we hit about 112 degrees F. in June when I embraced this idea) and the real question was if I could tolerate the heat that must be endured in walking the couple of blocks to the relevant bus stop.

My wife thought I was an idiot for doing this: “But we’re in the middle of a heat wave!” I can’t say I blame her for feeling protective, but this is summer in Las Vegas — and exactly when, here, is it not a heat wave?

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An Apology, and a Confession

in Writing


    The author explains where’s he’s been, and shares his reflections on a blogging life mis-spent.

Start: I‘d like to apologize.

I’ve been blogging off and on since October of 2006. The handful who have followed me through all that saw I went through a number of phases, and went through a number of dry times.

I knew where I needed to go, but for reasons that escape me I kept going the wrong direction. There’s a phrase used in physics, a “Drunkard’s Walk” — a term to describe the random motion of particles suspended in some gas or fluid. Moving, but ultimately going nowhere.

The reason I started blogging to begin with was that I saw it as a means to an end. I’m a writer. A writer of fiction. Honestly, a frustrated writer of fiction. I spent many years in the Kafkaesque exercise of beating my head against the iron door to the gatekeepers of the publishing industry, and finally reached a point where it really was just plain meaningless.

Then I ran across a book from 2004 by Biz Stone, one of the founders of Twitter, called Who Let the Blogs Out? One chapter in particular jumped out at me: one that described the experience of bloggers who had used their blogs as a way to gain the attention of the publishing industry, or even one case where a writer had been approached by a publishing company to repackage her blog material into a book.

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