Change

I finished a book and actually published it which was probably crazy and then entered into this sort of unproductive rut. For the last six months, I’ve felt like I’ve used up all my words. Like I’ll never again be able to string sentences together, or communicate coherent thoughts. It’s actually felt like I stroked […]


Talk Hard…or…Whatever

I watched Pump up the Volume the other day. Just for old time’s sake. In 2012, when the movie turned 25, it sort of re-entered the collective consciousness of geekdom with several retrospective articles. I haven’t bothered to sit down and watch the whole movie for maybe 10-15 years, though. Which I think is a […]


A Hooker Named “Nostalgia” by Rotting Corpse

As it is with most pop-culture these days, I came late to Netflix’s Stranger Things party, having just finally watched the series nearly six months after everybody else raved about it. I was certainly aware of the phenomenon. I mean if you use the internet, how could you ignore it? Barb memes have popped up […]


But, in the end, isn’t it kinda funny?

All this talk about resisting and waking up and taking action is great, but I’d like to take a moment to indulge my strange love for history and poli-sci. Let’s remove ourselves a bit from the screaming chaos of the armchair warriors flooding Twitter and Facebook with their impotent outrage and just revel in the […]


Splintered

Long ago, this blog used to have multiple authors. But then we all grew up and GS became all about “things Nacho has done with his penis” which was probably bad for readership. Hard to say, though. It’s been a thrill to see the return of former author “Rotting Corpse,” though. Sad that it took […]


Welcome to the Resistance by Rotting Corpse

Until recently, I’ve normally keep my politics to myself. There are lots of reasons for this, but the main one is that even among friends, a political discussion is by far the easiest way to start an argument outside of “Who made a better Batman, Keaton or Bale?”


The System

Oh, right, it’s Inauguration time. My fellow armchair liberals have all been dreading this day and, in dark rooms, as they caress their mother’s underwear, they’ve worked hard to convince themselves that this isn’t happening.


Autobiography

Top ten things I wish I had included in the stupid memoir about my evil family and my fucked up life after I had them all killed:


Grief Cycle

There’s been no escaping the post-election freakout. I’ve tried. But everyone’s talking about it…seemingly more than usual. The four stages of jilted liberal grief are just so predictable though.


Stop telling me to get out and vote

First of all, I’m addicted to voting. I think it’s important, I always vote, and I revel in the idea that my little vote is part of a grander, greater voice of potential revolution. At the local level, I vote against judges and council people I don’t fucking know out of pure spite. I write […]