I've teamed up with a saxophonist to bring you fresh essays. (It all makes sense if you know the history.)

A letter about my father's last rites.

Was I being neutral in the face of injustice by trying to be a neutral reporter?

Is a good bookstore the opposite of Facebook?

The political differences aren’t really about who values bodily autonomy or science or women or babies, because at some reasonable level, people on opposite ends of the abortion debate genuinely (in their hearts) value these things in one way or another. So, where do we differ?

Yes, this ends up as a metaphor. Also, an offer of some shoes. But it's mostly about trying to get past that pandemic feeling of irrelevance.

"But most parents don’t have the advantages I did of learning from parents who were losing their children to rough conditions – about how to let children really live their own lives in the time they have on the earth."

One thing Maddy and I do have in common is that we were both introduced to sex by jerks with a taste for pubescent-bodied girls.

I built a local news organization. It kicked ass. And now, it has collapsed.

My father will pass away soon. He’s been on home hospice for over a year, so this is no surprise, but it does mean I’m headed down to Nashville tomorrow for an indeterminant time.

Thoughts on the unjust removal of Edmund Santurri as director of St. Olaf's Institute for Freedom & Community.

I want to be in the expanse that thrills with the feeling of the earth stirring its glass.