The Agony

The bookshelf at Poke Acupuncture. Follow me on Instagram for more photographs from my life in L.A.

Buy My Book I About | Blog I Newsletter I X I Instagram I LinkedIn I Consulting I Email

Feeling Smart

I got myself a subscription to the New Yorker. Digital only. Kottke and Maud kept linking to it, and I kept not being able to read it, so I went for it.

From Rebecca Mead's "A City Run by Children":

"As we walked through the pedestrian streets, we passed bronze statues of inspirational eminences represented as children—Martin Luther King, Florence Nightingale, Mahatma Gandhi—while real children darted around us with fists full of kidzos. 'You go to Disneyland, and you see all those kids walking with their parents, very tired,' López remarked. 'There is two minutes of magic—the ride—and then they see the Disney characters, which no one can surpass. But here, most of the time they are running, engaged, happy.' Occasionally we came across an adult wearing the costume of one of KidZania’s RightzKeepers—anime-like cartoon characters who represent the six rightz of children. They are KidZania’s equivalent of Mickey and Minnie and include Urbano, a green-haired boy, who represents the 'right to know,' and Chika, who has purple hair and cat ears, and represents the 'right to share.' López said of Chika, 'She’s all about meeting people—her biggest ambition is to get a million friends.' López greeted the Zupervisors and other staff with 'Kai!' and a splayed hand to the heart. In the town square, there was a golden statue modelled on a celebrated one in Mexico City depicting the Angel of Independence. 'That one is a naked woman, but ours has to have clothes, because it is for children,' he said. It was like being in a reimagined Las Vegas, with the celebration of virtue substituted for the celebration of sin."

30 Days of Fiction, Day #27: Praying for Rust

(Inspired by a 30-day yoga challenge at my yoga studio, I'm writing 30 flash fictions in 30 days. One a day. 100 words or less. Time limit: 15 minutes. You can read all of them here.)

We bought a robot child. It was inconsolable. It wanted to go back to its factory. We grew tired of its pleading. We left it outside and the rats ravaged it. We brought it back inside and stayed awake all night because of the sound of its jaw clacking. We were ashamed of our actions and dedicated ourselves to aggressive expressions of physical affection. Over time, it lost its sheen and retreated to the back of a closet. Years later, we saw it on TV, selling widgets. We were embarrassed and changed the channel.

Time: 15 minutes

Word count: 94 words