Featured Work

Each month, we highlight a work of fiction from a new author. To be considered for posting, send submissions of short fiction or excerpts of longer fiction to Renée Kashuba at renee@kppressbooks.com. All writing styles, genres, and subjects are welcome.

March 2010

About the Author

Catherine Perry teaches composition courses at the City University of New York and for SUNY. She has studied writing with Sondra Perl, Jessica Yood, Billy Collins and Marge Piercy. She has had a long-standing involvement with the arts and is currently interested in Visual Culture Theory, concentrating on the intersection of text and image.

Semiotics

For approximately 26 seconds, she stands stock-still while everyone around her is dancing, cheering, singing and pumping their hands above their heads. She remains fixed to one spot, legs straight and thin as rails, arms folded behind her head so her body resembles an upside down Gibson Flying V electric guitar. She’s staring towards the floor, and keeps her gaze downward - even as she slowly brings her arms back down, hands inside her sleeves, and then clutches them together in front of her for a nanosecond. Then it happens: her right hand goes up and makes contact with her nose, her left hand following over her upper lip. It appears at first sighting that she’s simply wiping her nose on her sleeve; but the majority of the public viewers believe she took a hit of cocaine.

How she would manage to do that is cause for endless speculation. One thing has, however, unquestionably entered into the mythology of Roland Barthes: her famous beehive wig is assumed to be the locus of her stash. Amy Winehouse, filmed smoking crack at home, drinking hard liquor onstage, stealing magazines in clear view of paparazzi and cutting herself up in hotel rooms, has utilized her hairpiece as drug storage.

This event caused a paradigm shift in the signification of her hair. When she first came out wearing the wig, it was an indication of her musical roots: less B-52’s, whose members Kate and Cindy wore beehives that towered over them in garish day - glow colors, worn in the campy tribute to retro kitsch that typifies some aspects of the new wave era; and certainly not Marge Simpson, whose total lack of awareness about her own hair suggested a sublimation of some Freudian unconscious desire – one need only examine Homer briefly to confirm this possibility. Instead, Amy’s choice of hairstyle cites the Motown era singers, whose music she also emulates to an extent. Her particular beehive does not, however, have the polish and the refinement of Diana Ross’, Martha from the Vandellas , or any of the other early 1960s African American women who presented the possibility that black hair could - and at the time, should - emulate the latest white hairstyle. Instead, Amy’s is ragged, unkempt, often unevenly placed and accessorized – often with a flower, bandanna, scarf and, of course, with a stash.

Winehouse, as a young Jewish girl from North London, clearly has no need to present a political agenda such as the Motown singers did; and so the parade of a neat coif is not necessary. But the presentation of the frizzy, natty mass of nylon hair suggests something that once again aligns her with her musical influences: that of reggae and punk- era ska. Although she doesn’t have dreadlocks, the long tendrils of hair streaming down from the beehive are often close to a faint suggestion of them. This, however, is an incomplete analysis of the hairstyle for a few reasons. One, the inherently racist idea that dreadlocks are formed from not washing or styling hair; and that locks form as the result of neglect; suggesting poverty and lack of hygiene. Winehouse’s clear involvement with the Black community in the U.K. – musically and personally - would indicate her familiarity with the tremendous commitment dreadlocks involve as a hairstyle: constant twisting, oiling and yes, cleaning.

Rather, the rat’s-nest look Amy cultivates with her wig signifies the post - punk, post - Grunge look that her generation has watched in its latest stages of evolution. The most recent manifestation of the punk rock look - which is essentially the antithesis of its original meaning, due to its placement in the most central position of the mainstream – is as a grab – bag accessory; and not necessarily used in totality, from spiked hair to spike heeled shoe. Moreover, the look itself does not always signify an interest in the music itself. Instead, most people of Winehouse’s generation have a wide – ranging interest in diverse genres of music; punk rock may or may not be one of those genres. Amy is sometimes seen wearing a studded belt, which used to be the quintessential punk rock accessory. She also wears an exaggerated version of the early 60s cat eye makeup, a finger – width black streak over her eyelid and extending out towards her temples, which was often used among the punk and new wave contingent. She is almost sleeved with tattoos on both arms; another indication of a punk rock, or some alternative ethos. However, she wears gold name plate necklaces that are worn by England’s CHAV kids; again, it speaks to her alignment with black music, in this case being hip – hop, evidenced by the many remixes of her songs wherein rappers and hip – hop artists collaborate with her.

From the time she adopted the look involving the wig, gold chains, spiked belt and tattoos – between her first and second album releases - her drug use had come to the forefront of media exposure. The level of exposure is such that every action Amy performs would be interpreted as drug – related, regardless of if that’s the case. In the 37 second clip of her concert, she could have been simply wiping her nose – which feasibly can indicate cocaine use, granted; but it could also signify a runny nose or an itch, or a nervous tic, or an unconscious act. But the mythology of Amy Winehouse as a drug user would only allow the possibility that not only was she touching her nose because of cocaine use, but that she was also in the act itself of inhaling coke, right there on stage in public view. Thus, her wig has become a signifier, a mythological symbol of the extent to which her drug use has permeated her music, and her career. The multitude of signifiers her hair originally brought forth is now pushed aside in favor of a signifier that, in itself, has usurped her recognition as a singer and songwriter. The myth carries within it an inherent dismissive action about her talent in favor of a means of scandalizing and deriding her. The public has taken her hair – previously seen as a tribute to her musical influences – as the ultimate sign of her addiction.

Recollections 2

My doctor’s name was Socrates, and before I actually met him, I would have easily admitted that I chose him because of his name. I just wanted to be able to say I knew someone named Socrates, and the fact that he would be providing me with medical counsel was even better.

I found him while flipping through the book of lists given to me by Human Resources. This was a big moment for me: the first job where I was getting full health coverage. I’d been out of college and working full time for almost 4 years, but I hadn’t worked anywhere that offered the kind of health insurance I was willing to pay for. Instead, I went to herbalists, got acupuncture, bought books on self – healing or performed a Feng Shui cure in my apartment. So when I entered Socrates’ office and saw a chart of the chakras of the human body, I realized I’d found a kindred spirit.

“So what’s wrong with you? You know I don’t like to see you here,” he’d say every time. He’d go on about how young and I was, how any illness is part of a conspiracy, and how I should believe in my own health in order to make it so. Sore throat? I feel punished for speaking my mind. Twisted ankle? I have a fear of success. Pinkeye? I’m suppressing anger at what I see in my life. Ear infection? I refuse to believe what others are telling me. I hung onto every word he said followed his remedies to the letter. He would always end the visit by saying, “You know, in China, the doctors get paid only when the patient stays healthy. If we did that here you’d make me a poor man!” Meanwhile, I’d have a handful of sea salt or crystals, tinctures, or incense, with handwritten directions and a chart or graph he’d drawn. Very rarely, only in extreme cases, did I leave his office – a four-bedroom apartment on the ground floor of a building in my neighborhood – with a prescription for antibiotics; and that was never without an accompanying script for antifungal gel and notes about acidophilus doses.

Although I was ecstatic about having found him, there was one huge drawback: he was very popular in the neighborhood, especially with the elderly ladies; and he was always showing up late to work. The office opened at 10 a.m., and he never arrived before 1 p.m., sometimes not until after after 2:00. It took a few visits to figure out two things: always bring a book and try to get the last appointment possible. He was adamant about leaving by 6 pm, so a 5:30 appointment assured I wouldn’t have to wait long.

The waiting room was a social event in the making. In contrast to what I’d been used to - a handful of silent patients, seated as far away from others as possible, faces buried in magazines – there were throngs of women clustered in pairs or small groups. They’d be chatting animatedly, gesticulating and laughing, whispering and nodding at each other. Whenever anyone entered the waiting room, a chorus of ‘salud!’ rose from the crowd, and the newcomer would join any of the cliques seated on the sofa, in chairs or on the floor. In the background a talk show or soap opera droned from a black-and-white television, but no one bothered watching. They were too busy gossiping or comparing notes about their ailments; joking and clucking all the while.

I wasn’t able to get in tight with any one cluster, but all the women made sure to offer me a seat, pat me on the knee and look in my direction, nodding and laughing. Being the youngest patient by a span of at least 30 years, I was looked at as the outsider I was, but not without a tangible sense of kindness and mirth. I would make a few attempts to get in on a conversation, if only to make it clear I understood and could speak Spanish, so that at least I could make it seem like there was no difference between me and them. But since I didn’t know their friends and families, or the celebrities and political figures they talked about, I couldn’t carry the conversations very far.

Of course there were differences, age aside. I’d never seen people who were clearly ailing act as if it was just another day, as if they weren’t having trouble breathing or running a high fever. They’d carry on with making fun of each other and joke about the often - serious ailments as if they were minor foibles. Socrates, too, joined in whenever he walked into the room. He would do a double – take at some frail woman and deadpan, “You’re still here? I thought you were dead!” or look over at someone hooked up to an oxygen tank and ask, “What’s on your face?” And the ladies gave it right back to him. I’d often hear, “Why so late? Did you get arrested again?” or “You’re losing weight – is your wife on strike?”

So when Socrates told me he was closing his office and moving abroad, my first question was, “What will all the old ladies do without you?” His response, in typical fashion, was, “Eh, they’ll all be dead soon anyway.”

Historical Analysis

To the best of my memory, and judging from online image searches, an eight - track cassette tape is about 4 x 6 inches, roughly the size of a photo. It’s about 1/2 inch deep, and aside from one of the short ends having two small square openings where the tape itself is exposed, the tape is encased in the standard toy - weight hard plastic. The two flat portions are then covered on both sides with paper labeling. The label replicates the images on a vinyl album cover: on the front would be the title, artist and central image; on the back, the play list.

One of the distinguishing characteristics of the eight - track is this play list. For reasons that are still a mystery to me, the album plays in four segments, rather than a vinyl album or a standard cassette, which has two sides. While some artists chose to design their play list around the four tracks, with the idea of four chapters in a story, for instance, or four acts in a play, many did not. In those cases wherein the play list did not conform to four separate segments of music, the end result was often an interrupted song, which would fade out and back in as the tape switched tracks. Even if songs were timed to have ended before the tape switched tracks, there was a longer – than – usual silence accompanied by two slow clicks that signaled the switch between any of the four tracks.

Another distinguishing characteristic of the eight – track relates to this play list. The tape was designed in such a way within its casing that would allow for continuous play. Although vinyl records can be repeated through a simple maneuver of an additional crooked arm over the needle, it obviously could only repeat one side at a time. For the first time with eight - tracks, the entire album could be heard repeatedly ad infinitum; albeit with four interruptions.

In terms of music media objects, the eight – track had a manufacture life of roughly 20 years, from the mid 1960s until 1983 when production of the tapes ceased altogether; although some enthusiasts claim a consumer could still buy eight tracks in retail outfits as late as 1988. Compared with the vinyl record, cassette and compact disc, the eight – track had the shortest life, and while most agree it is rightfully so, the sub culture of enthusiasts for the eight – track don’t necessarily disagree as well.

The huge leap in the convenience of portability is what marks the eight – track as progressive along the continuum of music media. With the birth of the eight – track, entire albums could literally leave home. Vinyl records, while to date are the longest – running medium still in manufacture, are obviously not as portable. In the leap of music being solely the domain of the radio into the realm of consumer object, the vinyl album is characterized by its use in the home or nightclub, dance studio or performance hall. More often than not, eight track tape players were installed in car stereos. Unlike portable cassette players, and later transportable CD players, portable eight track players were never widely bought and sold, being cumbersome in both weight and size.

The ability to play an entire album in the car went right in line with the postwar car culture, particularly during the ‘muscle car’ era of late 60s to mid 70s, that coincided with the distinctly American ideals of pioneering the wilderness, in the romance of the open road, the mythology of freedom and autonomy. Eight – tracks, being able to play uninterrupted, were custom made for a long road trip. In researching online communities of eight – track enthusiasts, who call themselves Trackers, the majority of guestbook comments mention the presence of eight – tracks in cars.
This aspect of the uninterrupted play list brings to mind another cultural appeal, which may or may not have a logical parallel. The fact that one could pop a tape into their player at home and not have to get up to change sides vaguely calls to the drug sub culture. Imagine the appeal in tuning in to the latest Pink Floyd album, turning on with a tab of acid, and dropping out for hours, even days at a time; blessed out and uninterrupted. Those awkward silences while the tape switches tracks could suddenly become trippy and symbolic.

Despite these appeals, however, the eight – track was quickly outsold by the cassette, which was a fraction of the size and weight, cheaper to manufacture and conformed to the two – side format of vinyl. With the simple invention of the auto repeat button, cassettes too could play an album in its entirety.

The exposure of the tape itself in these two spots its plastic casing rendered the tape relatively vulnerable – one of the shortcomings that ultimately led to its discontinuation. As with cassettes, if the tape inside the casing got wet, ripped or otherwise damaged, the album was lost for good. Because of the portability, the chances of damaging these types of tapes increased. Unlike cassettes, however, there was an additional potential for eight – tracks getting ruined; and that is in terms of the label. For whatever reason, most labels were paper based, and once those got wet, they often buckled or lost adhesion. The tape often got jammed in the players and caused endless frustration, if not permanent damage, when trying to disengage them. Vinyl records, aside from their vulnerability to heat, were subject to scratches from wear and tear. However, entire albums were still somewhat salvageable because scratches occurred over a portion of the surface meant that all remaining songs could be played. With the advent of compact discs, which are comparatively indestructible, all previous products were rendered obsolete. CDs would not melt in the heat, didn’t warp and surface scratches could be removed with a cleaning solution.

The tenuous state of the tape itself, along with the size of the casing - which, with the advent of the cassette was suddenly clunky and huge – coupled with the awkward and illogical separation of music over four tracks, ultimately caused the quick demise of the eight – track cassette and player. In analyzing the historical significance of the replacement of vinyl, eight – track and cassette with CD, it is clearly reflective of the great leaps in technology marked by the 1980s.

However, as with many consumer objects, the retro value of the eight – track has not waned. To this day there are countless web sites, social networking groups and fan clubs dedicated to the eight – track. Ebay is thriving on the exchange value of the tapes.

When ascertaining a sense of just who would be interested in keeping the eight – track alive, it appears to be mainly white middle class males who began collecting eight – tracks during their teenage record collecting days. Their musical tastes are all over the map, so to speak, and encompass many genres, although all remain within the parameters of popular music. In fact, someone on the fan site 8–trackheaven.com declared that April 11th had long ago been named ‘Eight – track day’. As one Tracker concluded: “It’s like any other kind of old stuff. Take care of it and it’s yours for life!”
This particular fan site had a most fascinating ethos, entitled ‘ The 8 Noble Truths of The 8 – Track Mind’, which is as follows:

0) Understanding one's fate leads to greater acceptance.
1) State of the art is in the eye of the beholder.
2) Society's drive is on attaining rather than experiencing.
3) In less than optimum circumstances, creativity becomes all the more
important.
4) Progress is too often promises, promises, promises to get you to
buy, buy.
5) "New" and "improved" don't necessarily mean the same thing.
6) "Naive" is not a dirty word.
7) In seeking perfection has the obvious been overlooked?
8) Innovation alone will not replace beauty.

Are these Noble Truths reflective of the historical context within which eight – tracks were popular? The creation of the list itself seems a tongue – in – cheek reference to the hippie era rise in interest of Buddhism, to which the Beatles, in their travels to India to study with Hindu yogis, could possibly be responsible for; although the interest in “Eastern” philosophy was present during the Beatnik subculture era, it became wildly popular in the 1970s. It could be said that #s 2, 4 and 6 also somehow bring to mind the hippie culture; which emphasized the experience of the trip, in every sense of the word, and anti consumerism; perhaps ‘openness’ rather than naivety but having that same sort of child like quality that reflects the anti ‘anyone over 30’ ideals. With the advent of the CD, of course, #s 5 and 8 seems definitely reminiscent of the aging hippie technophobe’s rail against progress. However, presumably a Noble Truth should be timeless; and #0 certainly seems in line with that ethos. It reflects a self – awareness that the eight – track was destined to have retro value rather than staying power as a consumer object. #3 seems to reflect more of the punk and new wave ethos, which were, of course, musical genres that developed during the eight – track era. As far as #s 1 and 7, those seem to be merely reiterating the aging hippie’s preference; but perhaps there is another historical context being referred to that I simply cannot access. Overall, though, the list is a charming declaration of the Tracker subculture.

Previously Featured Authors

December 2009

Lakis Polycarpou is a journalist, essayist and fiction writer whose work has appeared in The Washington Post, The Believer Magazine, Next American City, Babble.com and Energy Bulletin among other publications. Lakis also writes regularly about the issue of peak oil and its related economic, social and political implications on his blog, City of the Future.

His novel, Kyrenia Road, tells the story of a family on the island of Cyprus as they struggle through revolution, civil war and invasion.

Lakis lives in New York City with his wife Renee and three children, Dominic, Charis and Christos.

October/November 2009

Sheela Lambert is a veteran bi and LGBT activist, presenter and writer published in the LGBTQ America Today Encyclopedia, Huffington Post, Lambda Book Report, The Advocate, Curve, AfterEllen, Bi Magazine, AfterElton, GO Magazine, Bisexual.com, Hakomi Journal and edits the Bidar blog reporting on bisexuality in media, arts and culture located on BiWriters.org and LiveJournal. She is the founder of the Bi Writers Association, co-founder of Bi Women of All Colors and organizer of the Bisexual Speakers Bureau of New York. She spearheaded the successful campaign to add a bisexual award category to the Lammys LGBT book awards in 2006 and has served as a Lammy judge ever since. She produces the Bi Lines reading series and has organized film programs, concerts, conferences, summits and other programs for the bi and LGBT communities for 18 years. She made history as producer and host of the first weekly bi TV series on the planet, Bisexual Network (on NYC public access cable in 1993) and was a correspondent on the GLBT public access cable show Out in the 90’s 1992-93.

She has an anthology of bisexual literary short stories ready for publication, is writing a book on Famous Bisexuals in History and is starting work on anthologies of bisexual poetry and bisexual plays. She lives in Washington Heights with her books and her dust collection.

September 2009

Cynthia Foo is a displaced Canadian living and working in New York City. She teaches art history at the New School and writes short fiction, poetry and music reviews.

July/August 2009

Rebecca Serle is a writer living and working in NYC. She is the founder of Nurturing Narratives, an organization that brings storytelling and narrative building workshops to young children. Rebecca holds a MFA in Creative Writing from The New School and a BA in English from The University of Southern California. Her work has appeared in SLICE Magazine, The Ampersand Review, The Raleigh Quarterly and Twelve Stories among others. She is an avid fan of yoga, the written word in all its forms, and, of course, New York.

June 2009

Joseph Legaspi works as a grant writer for a multi-service non-profit organization in New York City as well as a freelance editor, tutor and journalist. He has been a contributing writer for the publications of LACE (The Local Arts Collaborative Exchange) in Jackson Heights. He is also a writer and co-editor of Tinig, The Jackson Heights Filipino-American Journal and Newsletter. Joseph holds an MFA in creative fiction writing at the New School, studying with the writers Stephen Wright, David Gates, Helen Schulman, Abigail Thomas and others. While pursuing the degree, he was also completing an internship working with special needs children. The experience inspired him to write the novel The Evening House for which he is seeking publication. Joseph lives in New Jersey with his wife, Yoko. He can be reached at joe2write@hotmail.com. More information on his work can be found at http://www.linkedin.com/in/joelegaspi.

May 2009

Noah Elliot Blake is a Brooklyn resident, MFA student at The New School, teacher of children and struggling adults, celebrator of beards, hero to the smallest of men, and above all, desperately trying to eke out some affection with his bio. His work has appeared (or is forthcoming) in Willows Wept Review, Macabre Cadaver, Dogzplot, SBS Magazine, and The Ampersand Review. He can be emailed at nononoah@gmail.com.

April 2009

Marvin Waldman is president of The Shadow Group, a creative and strategic consulting firm. He is also an adjunct professor in the Graduate Design Management program at Pratt Institute, and is a founding board member of the Bronx Charter School for Better Learning.

March 2009

Pamela Gettinger Tucker writes fiction for fun when she can take a break from her "career" writing. As marketing communications executive at a Fortune 100 company, Ms. Tucker writes countless communications, catalogues and brochures. In a previous career as an art critic and curator, Ms. Tucker also wrote essays, reviews and exhibition catalogues. "Punctuation" was inspired by a remark her daughter made that made Ms. Tucker laugh. Ms. Tucker regularly attends writer's workshops and has had several other short pieces published online. To read more of Ms. Tucker's work, send an email request to: pamget@me.com.

February 2009

Greg Thomas, born in 1963 in Hartford, CT, attended Carnegie-Mellon University, where he received an undergraduate degree in drama. He co-founded IgLoo, the theatrical group in Chicago, IL, and later moved to New York City working with Joseph Papp in Bill Gunn’s play The Forbidden City and then performing in an international tour of the Athol Fugard play My Children! My Africa! After spending a year on Haight Street in San Francisco, Thomas returned to New York to receive his masters in creative nonfiction writing at the New School, studying with the writers Philip Lopate, Vivian Gornick, Susan Cheever, David Hajdu, Robert Polito, and others. Thomas continues to write in a variety of genres and has published a number of works, including “The Smell of Snow,” “Trouble with Girls (Wendy),” and “TravelSnaps” (an interactive travel essay for the web). His one-man show NeverSaid was presented at Primary Stages in New York City. Thomas currently lives in the Washington Heights section of Manhattan with his wife, Jillian, and son, Sundar.

Greg's essay Letters from a Sinking Ship was featured in September.

January 2009

Jeanne Dickey’s fiction and poetry have appeared in the journals Passages North, RE:AL, Karamu, Parting Gifts, The Amherst Review, The Good Foot, Poet Lore, and The Newport Review. She was a resident at the Byrdcliffe Art Colony in 2007, and has attended numerous writers’ conferences and residences. Her work takes on a highly psychological viewpoint as she explores the relationship women have with violence, whether they are victims of it, or perpetrators. Her short fiction collection, The Woman Who Came Through the Mirror, is near completion, and she has begun a novel about a stalker (female, of course) whose oversized need to be loved leads her into increasingly dangerous situations.

A native New Yorker and a 10+ year resident of Washington Heights, Jeanne works days as an Administrative Assistant at a midtown law firm.

December 2008

Chris Cavalari was born December 6, 1960, in Cornwall, NY. His works include the play The Camel (staged reading at the Wythe Avenue Workshop in Brooklyn); two feature-length screenplays, Dissenter and Corvette; poetry (read in NYC); and an earth-based sci fi novel series. He is a lifelong musician/composer, a photographer, and an actor. His photographs can be seen at smugmug.com, robertoshutterbug user. Performances include Wishing Willy, available at danshepfilms.com , and the comedy sketches Human Species and Steroids, available at superdeluxe.com. In addition, he has performed leading roles in the student films Reclaiming a Purpose (by Daniel Yates) and Intercourse (by Carleton Ranney). His abstract paintings, street junk, and found furniture pieces are regularly shown at Mars Bar in Manhattan on 1st Street and 2nd Avenue. Chris lives in Inwood in Northern Manhattan.

November 2008

MRtoll (Jamie Toll) was born in Canberra, Australia, in 1975, and now divides his time between Sydney and New York City. He first came to New York in 2003 to study at Arts Students League, where he met Philip L. Sherrod and the Street Painters of New York. He served as an Understudy for Mr. Sherrod, working with Kenneth McIndoe, from 2003 to 2007. Group exhibitions include those at S.H. Ervin Gallery in Sydney and Cork Gallery in New York. He can be contacted at mrrtoll@yahoo.com.

October 2008

Christopher Way was born in Ft. Myers, FL in 1977 and raised nearby in the small town of Sanibel Island. He received his B.A. in English, Magna Cum Laude, from the University of Florida in 1999. He works in advertising and lives in Inwood, Manhattan where he writes poetry, paints and composes songs, most of which he distributes freely on the net. He is currently working on a collection of poetry and his fourth album of folk songs and acoustic instrumentals. He can be reached at bb@buriedbranches.com.

September 2008

August 2008

John Michael Santora (www.johnmichaelsantora.name) is an independent writer, artist and musician currently residing in Parlin, New Jersey. A graduate of the Rutgers University School of Communications, he currently works with autistic adults as a behavior therapist. As a musician, his bands have shared the stage with acts like Live, Chuck Berry, Fountains of Wayne, Streetlight Manifesto, the Alarm, and Gym Class Heroes. In 2005, John was nominated for an Asbury Park Music Award for his bass work for The TroubleMakers. In August, his band Beale Street Love will be featured on the indy music show, Fearless Music, which airs on Fox 5 and reaches 46 million homes regionally. With increasing music success under his belt, John has begun to divert some of his creative energy towards literature. His short story, "The Drunken Cowboy," is currently featured in the latest issue of the e-zine, Spry Magazine. He is also the author of the comedic blog Ask Dr. Lotes. His writing takes a facetious angle on the cark of the "twenty something" generation.

July 2008