From time to time, when I am writing, I have this thought—which I occasionally post on FB:
“sometimes i sit down and i write some shit and i think, holy mother of G-d i am a sick, terrible person. at least i’m thin”
Usually in those exact words . Anyone who knows me knows that i write [...]
Entries Tagged as ‘Reimagineers’
April 19, 2009
the things i like to write about (are weird)
March 11, 2009
The Reimagineers, Chapter 11: Sept. 7th, The Coney Island Apocalypse
I’m already several chapters past this, but it felt like a good time to share. Cuz I FELT LIKE IT, motherfuckers
CHAPTER 11: SEPT. 7TH, 2008—THE CONEY ISLAND APOCALYPSE:
Look up.
There in the sky, ten thousand feet straight up from here, a four-and-a-half year old refugee with thick plastic glasses will see his first American seagull. He [...]
January 11, 2009
The Reimagineers, Chapter 10—The Cyclone Cycle
In life, Mr. Mohammad had been 5’3”, though death, he was 5 inches even. Mr. Ajaz had been taller, almost 5’7”, with vehement mustaches and a wife who washed cotton shalwarz and kurta pajamas and yellowing undershirts ($3 the pack on Kings Highway) every Tuesday and Sunday afternoon at the Tel Aviv Coin-Op on CI [...]
January 1, 2009
New Year’s Miracles (not so much)
The first post of 2009 comes in the form of a warning: be careful what you wish for. Or, more precisely, be careful what you write about—it might just come true.
First, there’s the tragedy of 61-year-old livery-cab driver Khadim Bhatti, who was killed on the job in Coney Island Wednesday morning in pretty much the same time, [...]
November 26, 2008
Top 5 Reasons G-d Invented the SuperCycle
They booted Ada’s cab. I sat on the hood, my hair exploding around me in the humidity, sucking down HiTar after HiTar and scribbling an update in my notebook while Adelaida paced the sidewalk, screaming three dialects worth of profanities at the 311 Operator. “…Roy is the third victim perpetrator New York City taxi driver [...]
October 10, 2008
No. 1 Herb
“A Dominican dork can stand for everybody“—Junot Diaz, Oct. 3rd, 2008
How fucking imagineery is that? This is my post-post (ok, week late) breakdown of the New Yorker Festival “Where I Come From” lecture, with three of my favorite lit dorks, Sherman Alexie (a Spokane Indian) , Shalom Auslander (an ex-Orthodox Jew), and of course, Junot [...]
October 2, 2008
On Tolstoy
“Все счастливые семьи похожи друг на друга, каждая несчастливая семья несчастлива по-своему.”
Лев Толстой, Анна Каренина
We are not a family, any of us, only a clumsy parody of one, our unhappiness only a facsimile of others’
September 25, 2008
My Name is Mikhail/Miguel Goldshtyn
I live here with my cousin Mikhail/Miguel, heir to the Tel-Aviv Coin-Op laundry fortune (perhaps you’ve heard of him?), a man with the kind of face on him that makes you start sentences “if he weren’t my cousin,” which of course, he is. Truly, if he didn’t wear that garish green and yellow Adidas [...]
September 25, 2008
My Name is Dub Auschwitz Ravaana
Dub settled back, hands folded over his chest, concave ass hooked just one side of the rides white plastic seat and a shit eating grin plastered over his face; he let his neck hook backwards over the seat, rolled his eyes up and propped his long legs against the hand rail. The Israeli Air Force [...]
September 25, 2008
My Name is Ursula Groucho Rom
My name is Ursula Groucho Rom. I am exactly four feet and five inches tall. Yes, I am, so fuck you. I weigh 73 pounds, which is small even for four feet and five inches. I am a pituitary dwarf, a living-doll, a Small-World UNICEF-isim, product of a condition that no longer exists in the [...]
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