My parents moved last spring. I had set aside a single box of junk from my room that I wanted; by the time it arrived, my mother had turned it into six. This is how we operate. Among the treasures:
- A Bloom County cartoon I cut out of the newspaper in January, 1986, that I have never seen reprinted.
- A postcard of Fenway Park
- An “Ecology Now” decal that I acquired somewhere. Copyright 1970.
- Other people’s submissions to the literary magazine I worked on in high school.
- A newspaper article about Aldrich Ames.
- A list of BBSs that I used to dial into in Minneapolis, circa 1992.
- Notes on a D&D campaign I ran for my little brother.
- A sew-on patch from the soccer league in Hartford I played in when I was in fourth and fifth grade.
I’m most disappointed when people I know who use the word could find something more concise, or shocking, or linguistically artful to go with. It’s sold at the Wal-Mart of pejoratives. It’s cheap, it’s made en masse, and there’s nothing but bad preservatives in the ingredients. Let’s all—The New York Times, Bloggers, TV Writers, Those Who Use The Word “Douchebag,” Those Who You Would Call A “Douche,” Bar Patrons, Sports Fans, English Professors, Joe Dolce—become better communicators, and find something better than the word “douche” and it’s mediocre suffix “bag” to go with.
Or, you know, we could just judge each other a little less.” —Foster Kramer has had enough
One of these days, Natasha Vargas-Cooper and Mary HK Choi are going to fight, and it is going to be awesome.
I love this series.