Equivocality

Back home, in civilization, everything is spelled out. There I must not put my head and arms out the window, let alone contemplate the sensual allure of cheap opium and brown flesh. Within civilization there is a net, a structure, a code which keeps us all in line. There it is not possible to know if you’re really just pretending at a fundamental drive towards respect, to goodness. You suspect something in yourself, but you never have the chance at temptation.

Marrakech, but it could be any city in Morocco. Or just about anywhere in the touristed world, given minor changes to the script.
The man waves to me from where he’s trying to start his moped as I walk past on the sidewalk. I return the wave vaguely, turn back to looking straight ahead. At least [...]

This taxi is pimped. You can tell from the outside even. For one thing, the wide banner at the top of the windshield says Mercedes in big white-on-black letters. It actually is a Mercedes too, complete with monogrammed mud-flaps, and the classic tristar ornament. Silver hubcaps, even. Doesn’t matter that it must be 20 years [...]

no metaphor can say this
but I can’t stop pointing
to the beauty

The poet Jelal ad-Din Rumi does something to me, something wonderful. He makes me feel one of those feelings that I deeply cherish but can never quite describe. Certain works of art do this to me. It’s like being in love, [...]

Are we all just selfish, evil creatures out for our own pleasure? Does altruism really exist, or do we always act in calculated self-interest?

“Pain is not optional,” she responded. “But suffering is.”

Art is a four-letter word that cuts through logic.

The thing about the Silver Crest Diner is that it will never change. I asked once, and the old Greek guy who cooks the burgers scratched his head and said he’s been there for something like 35 years now. True, a grilled cheese now costs $5.95, but the big wooden menu on the wall must [...]

One warm night last year in Nha-Trang, Vietnam, I was talking with a man named Dave, a man who would later become a great friend of mine. From the streets of a bad part of England, he had a wide unshaven grin, and a kindness that softened his immense power. His job was emergency aid [...]

Here’s a little game you can play.