The Advocate

(Zdzislaw Beksinski, 1973, Untitled) There were so many times in my life that I should've died. So many times when I should've been lost. So many times when I shouldn't have made it. Maybe it's the fact that I'm nearly 40 when I never thought I would've lived to see 30. Maybe it's just the precarious state of the world and I'm feeling like I've never stopped fighting against all the terrible things destroying it. Maybe it's nothing but cobwebs in my ear and something even more ephemeral in my chest. But here I am at my desk typing away past 2 AM. Memories coursing through me like haunting ghosts and flashbacks faster than bolts of lightning surging across tormented skies. *** I was 1 year old in 1987, laying at the foot of the stairs I'd been knocked down, arm and leg broken, crying for help, but none came until my parents found me hours later almost unconscious while the babysitter was watching Saved By The Bell. I was 2 years old and my mot...

(Sophia, Mother Of The Angels Art by Gustav Dore) These two NDE's (near-death experience) happened during a single long weekend trip to Slab City, near Southern California's Salton Sea, a scant couple dozen miles from the international border. It's a place of meth-heads, landed hobos, migrant workers, and burning deserted wasteland flanked by military bombing sites and toxic waste dumps. The air always smells vaguely of rot, courtesy of the Sea's ever-growing decayed population of fish exposed regularly to 120 degree heat. My friend G-Money and I were going to conduct anthropological research on the squatter's village in the Slabs for a future project. G-Money was the designated photographer, while I did interviews and took a massive amount of notes. We expected an easy few days writing, talking, and photographing. What we got was a hellish, nearly suicidal not-quite-a-vacation. But before I jump into the happenstance of events that led to mine and m...