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Glenn Loury 2.0 Darker, Gayer, Different @justabloodygame
, 6 tweets, 2 min read Read on Twitter
The car ride passed in silence. Maggie wondering at how long she would suffer the unendurable half-life of forgiveness, Jerome an exact copy of his father, down to the moody inscrutibility. Neither spoke, Maggie for fear that the spell might break and Jerome would send her home.
On the highway, rushing South of the city, the aging baker finally felt like she could breathe again. And was just gathering her bearings when her son finally spoke:

"How long?"

She didn't respond.

"How long Margaret? These killings. It's too dangerous for a-"

"An old woman?"
"You know what I mean. For an amateur. Going around playing Columbo? With this things? Mo-Maggie. You're gonna get hurt eventually."

Maggie couldn't help but notice his slip. Had he almost said Mom?

"Well, 'Jerome', if I didn't know better, I'd almost say you were concerned."
"Of course I am!" The sudden anger surprised her.

"Of course I am," he repeated more quietly, "Just because we're- doesn't mean I don't care, or want you... you've seen the photos."

He pulled off the highway at the exit for Autumn Lake, his hometown.
"You're still my Mother Margaret, even if we're not, even after you-"

"After I betrayed you."

"Yes." His voice was iron, rigid, yet vibrating with pain, still fresh after 15 years. "I don't want you to end up like those poor folks, resting in their own blood."
Maggie thought for a while, and, feeling embolden by his concerns, decided to push the matter.

"It's been 15 years Jerome. How long are you going to punish me? I- I know, I deserve it. But-"

She reached out, lovingly patted his arm.

"How long are you going to punish yourself?"
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So, I've been thinking, after an exchange RE: Bernie Sanders I had earlier, about racism. About how when black people and white people talk about racism, part of the disconnect is we're often talking about two totally different things.
I think white people, a lot of well meaning white folx, have a problem identifying racism because they have no idea what it is. And this isn't wholly their fault. America has dedicated a lot of effort to sanitizing, washing its history. It can be hard to see if you don't live it.
So white people have been taught that racism is a matter of opinion, one person hating another based on the color of their skin. And, well, sure. That's a part of racism, a symptom of it. But it's not the whole picture. Not even a large part.
Read 11 tweets
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Hail rained like tossed marble pebbles from a graying sky, clattering against the metal hull, dull thwacks in the dark, barely penetrating the quiet of the two hidden below deck, who feared the storm no less than they feared each other. Blood trickled from countless small wounds.
Twinned wheezing breaths, each one accompanied by the crack broken ribs, broken people in a broken room. Scattered about was detritus, ash from fire, molten plastic and metal pooled on the wall and floor, cinders of flesh, a limb, two.

And at the center, the staggering fighters.
So consumed by each other, no other questions concern them. No time to consider who else on board remains, whose side they were on, whether the ship headed back to shore, out to sea or to the bottom of the ocean, no time to worry for the other artists or warriors.

Only survival.
Read 16 tweets
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His home was still burning, wood warping under black smoke. He sat, watching from a distance, as the rest of village peered out from the trees, in anger, mistrust, but came no further.

The words of Chieftan Dani came to him, succor like a breeze from the past.
She had come to him, after his parents... committed their shame. Stood by him a while, lay a hand on his shoulder.

She let him sob, tears evaporating on the sand, their pyre burning out over the sea of clouds.

30 minutes passed, an hour, before she spoke
"A wise man once told me, after my parents passed decades ago, 'grief is love derailed'. He said I shouldn't let my sadness erase my love for them. That mourning them was... disrespectful."

The stilt-walker, no older than seven or eight, glared up at her as she watched the sea.
Read 8 tweets

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Every so often I find it fun to try and re-articulate my worldview from scratch, often in the hope that there will be some new or interesting bit to it
1. We are cluelessly born into the middle of a bustling, chaotic story. We are tiny ants on a leaf on a branch on a tree, and everyone around us certainly seems to be in a great hurry
2. We start out as extremely local beings, embedded in our families, our peers, our communities. We inherit their beliefs, their aspirations, their traumas, their flags - most of which they inherited in turn. As children we are onboarded into their rituals and superstitions
Read 9 tweets
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LIFE HAPPENS | “Sho, do you cook?”, my date asked. I replied jauntily, “I used to but not anymore. I now have access to a chef and can afford to order what I like eating.” #Thread #Life #Relationships
My date followed up by asking, “If your boyfriend asked you to cook for him, would you?” I grinned, as I realised my date was sadly playing from a script. I replied, “I don’t have a guy I like who’s asking me to cook, so I can’t say.”
I think my date thought I was being coy. But, I wasn’t. I was just being honest. A while ago, I decided to deal in reality and not hypotheticals. I have tried and failed to control life. All my effort got me was an anxiety problem and therapy.
Read 19 tweets
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It is generally around these festival days I miss my hometown very much -ಜನವರಿಯ ಜಾತ್ರೆ. ನೆಹರೂ ಬಟರ್ ಸ್ಟೋರ್. ಮಂಗಳವಾರ ಸಂತೆ. ಚಳಿಗಾಲದ ಕಾವಳ. ಅದರ ಜೊತೆಗೆ ಸೊಗಡಿನ ಅವರೇಕಾಯಿ.ರಾತ್ರಿ ಓಡಾಡುವಾಗ ಜೀವವೇ ಬಾಯಿಗೆ ಬರುವಂತೆ ಬೊಗಳುವ ಬೀದಿ ನಾಯಿಗಳು. ಸುಧಾ ಹೋಟೆಲ್ಲಿನ ಮಸಾಲೆ ದೋಸೆ. ಕಟ್ಟಿನ ಕೆರೆಯ ಬಸ್ ಸ್ಟಾಂಡ್. (1/n)
ಜಾತ್ರೆ ಮಾಳಕ್ಕೆ ಹೋಗುವ ಅಲಂಕಾರ ಮಾಡಿರುವ ರಾಸುಗಳು. ಪಿಕ್ಚರ್ ಪ್ಯಾಲೇಸ್ ಮುಂದೆ ಚೌಕಾಸಿ ವ್ಯಾಪಾರ. ಗಂಧದ ಕೋಟಿ. ಸಂಪಿಗೆ ರಸ್ತೆ. ವರುಷದಲ್ಲಿ ಒಮ್ಮೆ ಮಾತ್ರ ಹತ್ತು ದಿನ ತೆಗೆಯುವ ಊರ ದೇವತೆಯ ಗುಡಿ. ಮೂರು ತಿಂಗಳ ಸೋನೆ ಮಳೆ. ಗಣಪತಿ ಪೆಂಡಾಲಿನಲ್ಲಿ ಕದ್ರಿ ಗೋಪಾಲನಾಥ್ ಸ್ಯಾಕ್ಸಫೋನ್ ಕಚೇರಿ. ಡಬಲ್ ಟ್ಯಾಂಕ್ ಬಳಿ ಆಡುವ ಹುಡುಗರು. (2/n)
ಆಂಜನೇಯನ ದೇವಸ್ಥಾನದಲ್ಲಿ ಸಂಸ್ಕೃತ ಶಾಲೆ. ವರ್ಷಗಟ್ಟಲೆ ಟಾರು ಕಾಣದೇ ಮಳೆಗಾಲದಲ್ಲಿ ಕೆಸರಿನ ಓಟಕ್ಕೆ ಲಾಯಕ್ಕಾದ ರಸ್ತೆಗಳು. ಪಾರ್ಕಿನ ನಡುವೆ ಯಾರೂ ನೋಡಲು ಬರದ ಮ್ಯೂಸಿಯಂ ನಲ್ಲಿ ಸುಂದರ ಶಿಲ್ಪಗಳು. ಮಂಗಳೂರು ಪಾತ್ರೆ ಅಂಗಡಿಯ ಮುಂದೆ ಹೊಳೆಯುವ ತಾಮ್ರದ ಕೊಡಗಳು. ಹಳದೀ ಬಣ್ಣದ ನದೀ ದೇವತೆಯ ಕೈಯಲ್ಲಿ ಒಣಗಿನಿಂತ ನೀರಿನ ಕೊಡ. (3/n)
Read 7 tweets
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Piper PA-28 in distress.
Reported as the right main gear wheel fell off the aircraft on departure.
Pilot is a female student solo pilot.
Flying orbits around Beverley Airport, North of Boston. Instructors in the tower assisting. Emergency services standing by.
Instructor now on radio with Piper pilot;
“You’re doing a great job flying the airplane. We’re going to take our time. We got plenty of time. You’ve got plenty of fuel. We’ve got plentiful of daylight. You always heard me say go back to basics. So we’re going to work the basics.”
Update
Piper PA-28 landed safely.

Instructor says ‘there are lots of people clapping for her’.
Instructor did amazing job talking her down. She was in tears while flying.

She is a student pilot and was on a solo flight when her right main gear tire fell off on departure.
Read 15 tweets
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1. There's another curious thing in @netanyahu's "#Iran archive" story and it has to do with how much material was acquired. Netanyahu claims to possess "55,000 pages, plus another 55,000 files on 183 CDs" amounting to "half a tonne" of material. But the figures don't make sense.
2. Firstly, let's set aside how implausible it is to suggest, as @nytimes reports, that "Mossad operatives broke into the building one night last January, removed the original documents and smuggled them back to Israel the same night."
balkanspost.com/article/552/de…
3. 55,000 is a lot of pages. At standard 80 GSM paper, that is around 2.5 kg per ream of 500 pages. Netanyahu claims to have the equivalent of 110 standard reams of paper which would weigh... just 275 kilograms.
Read 13 tweets

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