Archive

The World Cup Championship is upon us! Of course, most of you don’t care, because 1) no one in America gives a shit about soccer, and 2) the United States was eliminated from the tournament long ago. Notice how I used passive voice when explaining...
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At the age of 13, I thought my father, Richard Merle Weinshilboum, would live forever. This belief ran contrary to my aversion to illogical stances. I can’t recall a time when I considered the tooth fairy real; it was a silly little concept cooked up...
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I love a good story, and I love words. The former is relatively self-explanatory. As for the latter, I enjoy how some words feel on my tongue. I like the sharp, hard consonants of the word “iconoclastic”; I revel in the billowy sound of “mellifluous,”...
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I was born in July 1971. That’s what I tell people when they inquire about my age. It’d be easier to give them a number, but I prefer to watch their faces as they calculate, borrow from the decades column, and react. I teach at...
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