Heady Writing From the Streets of Eugene, Oregon
So, I hear they’re changing the name of ol’ Swastika Mountain. In a stunning victory for both progressive geography nerds and people who still get upset about things they read in the newspaper, the...
California sucks. Everything you’ve heard about the place is (mostly) true. It’s beautiful, all of it: the mountains, the deserts, the forests, the shorelines, and the people, too. Everything grows here. It’s lush and...
It’s hard to believe that it’s been two years since Eugene spontaneously combusted on the night of May 29, 2020. So much has changed, and yet nothing has changed, not for the better, at...
Come what may, the Portland Police Bureau wasn’t going to get involved. I couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing.
The report acknowledges that “the struggles of 2020”–meaning the pandemic, economic anxiety, civil unrest, and all that political street fighting–likely contributed to the rise in hate and bias crimes last year.
Given Oregon’s abhorrent history on race relations, it’s easy to assume the worst about the origins of the name “Swastika Mountain.”
There’s no better metaphor for Reaganomics, is there?
ut I’m never alone here, and that’s probably for the best. The patches of beauty still left in the world are best enjoyed with other people.
Saying goodbye–a real, tearful, honest, final goodbye–is one of the hardest things to do.
I don’t have to understand why the old men with the model trains are so enamored with their hobby
