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  • Disabled

    Facebook informed me that my profile was “disabled” (love that jargon) when I went to log in. It is a scene out of 1984. No information is being given to me, no reasons are supplied. I simply have been deleted. Several e-mails later still no success. it is beyond farce — here is so-called social media […]

  • The Return Of The Repressed: At 69

    I am 69 now, and how have I reached this age? I was aware all the time. Interiorly I could be 20, 40, even 50, but time has brought me to this point ineluctably. Fascinating, for the exterior self has weathered, grown not a little creaky and grayer and less efficient, yet the edifice stands. That […]

  • At 69

    Yesterday was my birthday. I am so clotted with feelings about the age I am I will leave it be for a moment. Jane treated me for the day on the Strip. Vegas is in a valley surrounded by mountains. The mountains, from the distance, strike me as “false,” in that they seem or appear […]

  • Who Is Alice?

    Dear Alice, how do you know about the Miller Analogy Test I took in 1966?  Please identify yourself. And please do not write in French. English is my mother tongue. Other than Moliere perhaps, no one equals Shakespeare, a gift from friendly aliens. I promise not to respond in early Mayan.