I was never one to really believe in things like "fate" and what-not, but for the past year the universe has been making a pretty compelling argument to me.
What, to the American slave, is your Fourth of July? I answer: a day that reveals to him, more than all other days in the year, the gross injustice and cruelty to which he is the constant victim. To him, your celebration is a sham; your boasted liberty, an unholy license; your national greatness, swelling vanity;... Read More
This morning I said something unexpected to one of my cowworkers: "Nice poncho!" It wasn't a particularly nice poncho, but I felt obliged to note that she was wearing one. If only I had known today was casual poncho Thursday, I would have dressed accordingly.
