The Advocate

[***Author's Note: all links posted here are necessary to fully understand and comprehend this material. Please read each linked piece in full in the order which it appears. Also, the author is aware that this post cannot, by the very nature of its subject matter, stand as a timeless and completely comprehensive account, or for inadvertent omissions or developments that change the content contained herein.***] Israel and Palestine. Oppressor and oppressed. Colonizer and colonized. Settlers and refugees. Murders and protectors. Both and neither. Two nations. Two peoples. Two religions. Too much horror and tragedy. Neither can live while the other survives they say, but neither will live if the other dies too. It's that simple -- and yet, actually, it's also not that simple. Indeed, if there is ever a truism when it comes to the Middle East, especially Israel and Palestine, it's that everything is always really simple and really complicated. Forget shades of grey! We

(Paramount Theater, Oakland, CA. © 2018 FRANCK BOHBOT) I have 7 movies (at least) that I feel have flown under the proverbial radar, sat on shelves underestimated, or otherwise not received their proper due from audiences and critics alike. These are movies that make me cry, make me laugh, become nervous, get excited, tremble in fear, and exult in the pain of love so bright it burns. But seriously, these are just awesome films that deserve some respect on their names! So, without further gilding of the lily, preamble, and adieu, I bring you...

It's important for me that anyone reading this to remember that this is a creative space I have created. It exists solely for the purpose of exploring myself, my art, my connections with the world and within myself. It's purpose is to constrain me within a specific medium in order to free me from the distractions that would see the amalgamation of thoughts swirling around my grey matter don't disappear into some subconscious escape-hatch. It's also important for me that anyone reading this to remember that I use a pseudonym in order to distance the Me that exists within this pocket dimension from the Me that exists outside it. I'm both those people, but the former is, only a very specific presentation of Me. The latter is Me with and without filters, the flesh and blood, the purposeful and the fallible. The former is Me as I am creating myself, exploring myself, swimming amid the breadths and depths of life in order to understand, to empower my artistic express

(Even Sean Connery Will Not Stand Idly By) I spend an inordinate amount of time arguing with people on the internet. I have literally held up one index finger to My Life in order to finish the last sentence to a comment the length of a fortune cookie that took 30 minutes to think up. I'm not ashamed of this. I'm an arguer. I come from the land of arguers, raised by argumentative folks in a world of argumentative things where Up could very well be Down, depending on your perspective, and even the color of the sky was debatable. (You probably think that last sentence is an exaggeration. It's cute.) I've played Devil's Advocate so many times that if I could charge billable hours I would be rich enough to buy a Scrooge McDuck pool vault for the rest of my money. Hell, as a child, I used to raise my hand in class just so I could argue the most inane points of semantical nitpicky nothing-burgers. Once I launched myself into cyberspace, I played flamer , concer

( Smithsonian National Museum of African Art ) I did and do collect a lot of things. Quotes. Keychains. Books. Pogs. World of Warcraft Achievements. Memories. Songs. Stories. Another thing I collect are words. Not just any words. I'm talking about the castoffs, the amalgamations and portmanteaus, the slangsters, the randos. I try to keep a running list and thought maybe ya'll would enjoy what I've got thus far: 1. Pessoptimist, someone who is both a pessimist and an optimist, either alternating or at the same time. 2. Eunoia, the quality of "beautiful thinking." 3. Sarcaustic, being sarcastic and caustic at the same time. Sarcasm that burns. 4. Lunaphile, being a lover of all things moon-related. 5. Xenophilia, an affection for unknown/foreign objects and/or people, the opposite of xenophobia. 6. Wonderlust, unlike wanderlust's strong desire for travel, this is a strong desire for wonder, for things amazing or magical or just plain aweso

Eunoia. Origin: Ancient Greek. Translation: "well mind" or "beautiful thinking". The shortest word in the English language which uses all five vowels. To me, nothing better illustrates eunoia than the words we create to capture the thoughts and feelings we must express. The words we create and tie together into kaleidoscopes of sentences. I have been collecting quotes for over 10 years now. Many are well-known. Others are so obscure that if I wasn't around to hear them... they might as well as never have been said for all history would know. To mark reaching the nice round number of 400-ish, I have posted them all for your enjoyment in order alphabetical. I give you... A Saboteur Academia Production! Alternative Wisdom for Hipsters, Hobos, and Haters  The Most A-mazazingly Phat & Nifty Collection of Quotes  Amassed in the History of Everything By Zek J. Evets With credit to Jasper O., Gian A., Tuba M.,  David T., The Miss So&So’s, Uncle Mal,

(Art by Dave Correia) Every day. Since January 22, 2003. I sit and I write. I read. I rewrite. I read something else. I write something else. I keep doing this and doing this and doing this. I have been writing so much for so long that I've lost more writing than I can remember or pull from storage. Some days I write better than others. Most days I just write what I need to write to make it to the next day to write something else, something more. I miss my life before writing, in certain ways. It was prelapsarian. It was before the recorded word. It was the BCE to my AD. I can imagine any number of things, any number of myths about who I was, why I was, how I was... Once I started writing, I became unable to distort my lived experience. It was stark. It was unambiguously factual. It was lacking adornment to the point of emaciation. Before I could write I was a life full of adventure and magic. It was tragedy, it was comedy, it was drama. It was. Now It simply is. My