Sunset. A lake in the north country. Moi sits on a purple blanket at the edge of the water. An open fire warms a pot of coffee. Moi reads a few different PG Wodehouse novels back-to-back for hours on end, pauses, pours a coffee, and speaks an aside. Moi: I was always confused how Wodehouse …
Category Archives: History
A covid patient reads Plato
Afternoon sunlight shines through a window into a bedroom; a covid patient sits reading in the sunlight on the bed. Patient: Well, I finally have my answer. How many years ago did I write that question on Quora asking about why America’s two party system was creating such anger between the two halves of the …
Socrates interviews Ben Shapiro
Ben Shapiro sits for an interview with Socrates. Socrates: Hey, thanks for joining me today. Ben: Happy to be here. Socrates: I’ve been listening to your social commentary and find it lacking in a good measure of truth. You’ve definitely expressed one of the many facets of reality, but you leave much to be desired. …
The swing
A ten-year-old swings from a rope swing hung from an oak tree in rural Idaho; he talks to himself: Ten-year-old: Gosh, I really like to swing; I swing so much some days that I get sick. What is that sickness? A motion sickness? What causes that sickness? Is something sloshing around in my head so …
In which is a study of a master storyteller
In a stone house in the middle of Lisbon there lived a young girl. Not a nasty, dirty, wet stone house, filled with green and black mold, nor yet a dry, bare, modern stone house with nothing in it but glass and rubber light fixtures that jiggle when you touch them: it was a Portuguese …
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In which a troglodyte reads Jordan B Peterson
Dawn. A thousand years in the future. A knoll in an oak forest. Granite boulders loll about where an ancient cataclysm tossed them. A half naked troglodyte, piebald and weary, limps up the knoll and sees a text engraved on a stone. The troglodyte approaches, knocks off some moss, and reads the following: To whom …
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In which the philosopher and Johnny share a bottle of wine (incarcerated philosopher 8)
Philosopher: I miss your giggle; when you came here—the first couple of nights that you were here—you giggled all the time! Johnny: I can’t giggle anymore; I lost the little spark of je ne sais quoi which gave me my effeminate charm. I think it was when my ex-wife pooped on my bed. She said …
The well: in which Teresa and Irene walk home
Irene and Teresa walk home from school a few days after they both fell into a well. Teresa: Thanks for jumping into that well to save me. Irene: That’s okay; my dad asked me to watch over you. Teresa: Why? Irene: I can’t really tell you that, but I was the one in danger, not …
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The well: in which a Portuguese television personality rappels in
At the mouth of the open well, a small group had formed around a Portuguese television personality named Catarina. Catarina, into the camera: If you are joining us just now, we are live at a music festival where a girl has fallen into a well, and a boy rappelled in after her to save her. …
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A well-met forest
A woman drives a car up a dirt road into a forest. She parks, walks a ways into the forest, pees, and says: Woman: Ah, well-met, Forest! As she pulls up her trousers, the pines sigh in a gentle breeze. Birds chirp. Two oak leaves flutter down and land on the woman’s voluminous, dark hair …
In which a bitcoin miner visits the incarcerated philosopher (incarcerated philosopher 5)
The philosopher sits on his jail bed. His cell mate, the local drunk, stands in the corner thumbing a phone. A bitcoin miner enters the jail and approaches the cell bars. Miner: Are you the philosopher? Drunk: No, I’m just here for the food and the wifi. Philosopher: To whom do I owe the pleasure …
In which a philosopher lectures his cell mate (incarcerated philosopher 4)
A philosopher sits in a jail cell and pontificates at his cell mate. Philosopher: The concept of herd immunity is ridiculous and reveals the weakness in our public health. I mean, there is no such thing as herd immunity; there is individual immunity, yes, and, by extension, groups are immune, but it is the individual’s …
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In which a fuddy-duddy writes about the scarlet pimpernel
A small study. The walls are covered in antique books and a happy fire burns in the hearth. An armchair sits in the middle of the room where a fuddy-duddy sits reading a novel by Baroness Emmuska Orczy about the adventures of the dashing and imitable Scarlet Pimpernel. The F.D. puts down his book, picks …
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The irony
A father and daughter sit on a blanket in the park. Daughter: Papa! PAPA! HEY, PAPA! Father: Yes, what? Daughter: I asked you a question. Father: Oh, really? That’s ironic. Daughter: Don’t change the subject: I asked you a question. Father: I didn’t hear you; what was the question? Daughter: How could you not hear …
In which two Americans meet in the road
Two Americans meet in the street of a Portuguese town. 1. How are you today? 2. I’m exhausted. 1. Oh, really, what do you do? 2. I help American expats find houses here in Portugal, but I came here to get away from all that annoying cultural stuff. 1. I’m an American; am I annoying …
In which a tourist visits a Weiwei exhibition
A tourist approaches a group of photographs that depict Weiwei flipping off various famous buildings and landscapes. The tourist herself raises her own hand and flips off the photos of Weiwei flipping off famous buildings and landscapes. The tourist uploads the photo to social media. Soon afterward, the phone pings excitedly because people like the …
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To be or not to be awkward
Two guys sit at a beach café and discuss the word awkward. 1. The word awkward is difficult to define. 2. No it isn’t; it just means that expectations aren’t met. 1. I disagree; I think it is difficult to define. In English, one’s whole identity could be awkward; one can be an awkward person, …
The well: the stone door
Teresa and Irene walked up the stairs together and stood in front of a stone door. Hieroglyphics covered the door. Teresa: Where does this stone door lead? Irene: To your house. Teresa: No, it doesn’t. Irene: Yes, it does. Teresa: No, it doesn’t. Irene: Yes, it does. This continued for some time. Teresa: I just …
The well part two
Teresa walked on stage and danced three of the dances; as she reached the far edge of the platform, during one of the more provocative gesticulations, the platform gave way below her and Teresa half fell and half slid off the platform and into the sinkhole that had formed below. It all happened in a …
The well
Teresa: I won’t do it! Uncle: It will be a couple minutes. Teresa: Wearing this outfit? In public? For even a second will destroy everything I’ve done over the past lifetime! Uncle: This doesn’t matter; when you are my age, you won’t remember today at all. Teresa: My friends will laugh at me and they …
In which a girl watches a football game
A father, mother, and daughter walk into a bar where the national Portuguese football team plays live on television. The family watches in silence for a while. Mother: We haven’t done this since Madrid. Father: That was a long time ago. Mother: No, we did this in Manta Rota when Portugal defeated France. Father: When …
Swallow
A man and a dog walk through a medieval village; tilia trees bloom in all the parks and their fragrance fills the village. Man: What’s this? Hello! The man and dog pause, bend down, and inspect a baby swallow on the pavement. Man: Hello! Swallow: Chirp. The man stands and walks to a nearby café. …
In which a father and a daughter hold hands
A girl and her father walk down a rocky road towards a waterfall and a river swimming pool. Girl: Hold my hand. Father: What? Girl: I said, hold my hand; you aren’t listening to me. Father: I was thinking about something else. Girl: This road is too rocky and I might fall. Father: But I …
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Madrid, Blur
Madrid cafe – September Two people sit in the sunlight of a cafe. Woman: When young, people would look to me–I would feel them look to me. On a bus I would not push the button–the button to stop–because I know they were, anyone, look to me. I would ride the bus to the end …
Kombucha
German, speaking in German: This kombucha is good. American, speaking in Portuguese and then in French: I speak Portuguese and English. I’m sorry. My name is Mr. Cheese. Haha. German, speaking in French: I like to curse in French, but prefer German or English for ideas. I just read a book by Jordan Peterson called …
Anne of Green Gables
A reader discusses the book Anne of Green Gables with a viewer of the Netflix show Anne with an E. Reader: When I started the book, I wondered if the woman who ran the orphanage didn’t purposefully send Anne out to Green Gables in order to teach her a lesson—that is, break her will and …
Utopia continued (incarcerated philosopher 2)
Blog utopia continued The philosopher spends the night in jail for driving without insurance and resisting arrest, which he will contest in court later because it was really a small existential misunderstanding. His head is bandaged. Philosopher: Well, my spouse was right. As I was bleeding on the pavement from the head wound the officer …
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Utopia (incarcerated philosopher 1)
A philosopher drives his spouse through the countryside on a Sunday afternoon. Philosopher: I should write an essay about utopia. Defining a utopia helps one define one’s own personal ideal; of course, reaching an ideal in this life is impossible, but it would be a good project to define the terms that I personally find …
Selling a caravan
A caravan owner works on his van outside of his house. A stranger pulls into the driveway, exits the car, and begins the following conversation: Stranger: Excuse me, can I ask you a question? Owner: Yes, sure thing. Stranger: Are you busy? Owner: I’m just fixing this hole in the side of my van and …
How to be an expat
American: Hi, neighbor! I see you are going fishing today. If you catch an extra fish, I would love to join you for a fish fry! Neighbor: Pay me twenty dollars. Neighbor’s father: Great job, son; great job monetizing that conversation. American: What is wrong with you people? Neighbor’s father: He has to learn to …
The Bee dialogue
Once upon a time there was a little girl who lived in a stone house. One day her uncle called her to help him in the garden. Uncle: Teresa, take this letter to the bank for me. Teresa: No? Uncle: Come on. Don’t be difficult. Teresa: I thought you wanted my help in the garden. …
The Bee prose
Here is the first chapter of a story that I wrote in 2019: Once upon a time there was a little girl who lived in a stone house. This stone house wasn’t one of those cold, dark houses from the middle ages, nor was it a new modern house with mildew and weird windows; no, …
In which an apprentice talks to an old master
Apprentice: I can’t finish anything I start; I don’t understand my problem. Master: Can you describe the problem? Apprentice: I have a clear view of the portfolio I want to create; I begin; then the work unfolds in the wrong direction; I become frustrated; I stop to rethink the overall statement of the portfolio; I …
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Vanlife
I lived in a caravan for three years before the pandemic. I paused that lifestyle and for nine months lived in a mountain cottage in northern Alentejo; lovely, but recently I took a trip in my van again and realized how much I love the vanlife and why. I love the vanlife mostly because it …