Long ago I learned that I knew nothing. The world encircled my poor head with current events, factoids and cultural detritus. Much of it didn’t seem very good to me, but I couldn’t express the instinct of revulsion. So I began researching matters, I began to assemble reports, I began to share my findings, thoughts and opinions, and I slowly began to learn.
I joined like-minded compatriots and, through fits and starts and inexcusable neglect, we pushed each other to write. When the group dissolved I carried on alone, suffering what can only be described as an unhealthy compulsion. Selected rantings and ravings from these early years are tucked in Archives. Following a preemptive mid-life crisis I decided to move to Paris and try not to starve by writing for publications. These are collected under Press Credentials. While losing my mind in foreign lands I attempted to keep an open dialogue, which remains at Le Grand Zombie. Things didn’t work out so well and although I never starved or was forcibly deported I now find I need a way to get back up, brush myself off, and keep slugging.
Cathartic Aggression is the current stage of a continuing evolution. Part catalyst, part depository, all sounding board for half-baked concepts and ideas. Explore freely. Enlighten me. Tell me I’m wrong. If you need to do so privately you can contact me here.