Virginia Woolf eats two big meals in the first chapter A Room of One’s Own (1929). The first is just big. The second is big in its impact.

Here’s a genre in which I haven't written for some time: the lab report (thank you, biologycorner.com, for the template).

There is no double meaning, second degree and third interpretative level to be found in this post. Nothing metapoetic, cutting-edge, smart, hype, or poetic. No trope, no refined aesthetics, no beauty. But meaning yes, humanity yes, community yes. And a call to Arcade as a social network to spread a simple idea.

Happy Thanksgiving everybody! Today is my favorite of all holidays. If you ignore the whole set of associations with native American genocide it is, quite literally just an occasion to say thanks -- a kind of non-denominational, all-inclusive moment of grace.