I Worked At Salon.com Way Back When

No One’s Forcing You To Do This. You Willingly Tie Yourself To These Leashes. And You Willingly Become Utterly Socially Autistic. You No Longer Pick Up On Basic Human Communication Clues. You’re At A Table With Three Humans, All Of Whom Are Looking At You And Trying To Talk To You, And You’re Staring At A Screen, Searching For Strangers In Dubai.

Loneliness Is Just A Thing That I'm Not Personally Interested In. So Far, It Hasn't Been On My Docket Of Things To Write About.

Good Artists Exist In What They Make, And Consequently Are Perfectly Uninteresting In What They Are.

I Grew Up North Of Chicago, Not Far From Where The Schwinn Bicycle Plant Used To Be, And Was Conscious Of The Fact That These Beautiful, Everlasting Bikes Were Made Just Down The Road.

We're In An Era Where They've Sanitized Home Life In Movies To Such A Degree That There Is A Certain Home Life That Might Be True If You Have Two Perfect Parents, And A Nanny, And A Couple Babysitters, And Support, And Lots Of Money, And There's No Strain At Home, Or Whatever. But For Most People, There's Strain, You Know? There's A Lot Of Pressure, Things Can't Be Perfect, Parents Can't Be Perfect All The Time. There's A Divorce, There's Money Issues, Whatever. People Work, So You Don't Always Have These Vast Reserves Of Patience Every Time Your Kid Goes Crazy.