Category Archives: Pondering
The Lost
When learning about baseball’s history, it is impossible to ignore the forty years that African Americans were not allowed to play, regardless of ability. Any attempt by a black american to play ball was rejected by Major League Baseball. They … Continue reading
Angry and Lovin’ It
I’ve been noticing more and more lately that I’m getting more and more angry and aggressive and it’s the city that’s doing it. It’s not Boston in particular, it’s just…living in a big city where people can be rude and … Continue reading
Shakespeare on Common
Emily and I went to see Shakespeare on the Commons last week. Every year, folks can see the Commonwealth Shakespeare Company perform on the Commons free of charge. This year, they performed one of Shakespeare’s comedies, “All’s Well That Ends Well”. … Continue reading
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Time Is Not On My Side
I did a test once to see how I experienced time. It was simple. I started the timer and then stopped it when I thought a minute had passed. I wasn’t allowed to count the seconds, I just stopped the … Continue reading
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Parallels
There is something powerful about the idea of parallel worlds; the notion that there is a universe for every potential outcome. For every particle that either decays or stays, for every time you turn left or right, for every sun … Continue reading
Superstitious
I consider myself a skeptic. I don’t believe in things that I can’t verify through either my own experience or through the scientific research of people who get paid for that kind of thing. If I can’t touch it, taste … Continue reading
Looking for Pickman
I was reading Pickman’s Model, one of my favorite Lovecraft stories, and I realized I recognized most of the places he was talking about in the story. There was the studio on Newbury Street and South Station and there was … Continue reading
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The Space Beyond Space
As scientists discover more about the Universe, the hard and fast rules of physics seem to be less so. The ironclad constants are not so constant, particles can both exist and not exist at the same time, and it turns … Continue reading
An Angry God in the Hands of the Sinners
It’s telling that, in our fiction, our creations are constantly and continuously trying to kill us. Look at Frankenstein’s monster, and see something that becomes driven mad by its creator’s lack of love. All it wants, at the start, is … Continue reading
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Insanity on a Scrap of Paper
Yesterday, someone handed me their insanity on a scrap of paper. It was a scrawl of words, tightly packed and obeying no lines. They struggled to stay coherent in narrow confines, but they would not be denied by space or … Continue reading
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