Jeffrey Penn May

Oh! upon the day when antique words, make more sense than today’s tweets. Oh! upon the day when comics do, bequeath more truth than heads of state. Oh! upon the day when presidents, say more lies than Ponzi Madoff and Hitler too. Oh! shit we’re screwed. Share on Facebook

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This story could have easily been told in less than 300 pages instead of 531. I felt bludgeoned by unnecessary prose. Repetition was emphasized by italics, emphasized by repetition. I read somewhere that readers feel like they are getting more for their money when they purchase a thick book. That sort of thick-headed thinking may be to blame for the ruin of an otherwise pretty good story, at least for readers like me who lose … Continue reading →

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Quit whining about your so-called rights. You have none. You have no right to healthcare or education, clean water, food or housing. You are not entitled by birth to surf the web in search of contraception. The prey has no right to protection from the mortgage banker. There is no freedom from suffering, disease, hunger, fatal mishaps, or marauding bands of savages. You must crush the opposition. Club the bastards to death. This bleak reductive … Continue reading →

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Unlike anything I have ever read. It feels strange to make such a statement considering I’ve read a lot in almost every genre. The Three Body Problem by Cixin Liu should appeal to hard core science fiction enthusiasts, especially those interested in physics and astrophysics, but it also weaves in fascinating information about the Cultural Revolution and its lasting impact on modern China, makes excellent use of familiar stereotypes in unexpected ways, and creates suspense … Continue reading →

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Chad Harbach writes elegant prose in The Art of Fielding, and there are moments when his prose matches his insight and the writing becomes almost incandescent, the stuff of great literature. Unfortunately, the beautiful parts taken together sum up to a melodramatic whiny mess. Harbach writes so well, constructs such well-crafted sentences that it seems he can’t control the impulse to add unnecessary narrative. I often got the feeling that he inserted characters and descriptions … Continue reading →

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Occasionally, I read a book that makes me feel a lot dumber than I normally am. The Sixth Extinction by Elizabeth Kolbert reminds me that I’m not smart enough to be a scientist. Probably I have lots of Neanderthal genes. Not that Neanderthals were dumb. On the contrary, there is evidence suggesting they were “sophisticated” enough to interbreed with the prevailing species homo sapiens. It might be worth noting, however, that even though Neanderthals had … Continue reading →

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Dead Lemons Alive Damaged psychologically and physically, the wheelchair bound main character moves into a cottage with a grim past at the farthest point south in New Zealand. His goal is to either recover or kill himself. While that description may sound dark, the novel itself offers an uplifiting message of hope and resiliency. What transpires is a unique blend of suspense, mystery, psychology, and history in a captivating setting, all melded into a cohesive … Continue reading →

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Note: Compiled and reworded based on interviews with Denver budtenders. You’re on Spring Break? Vacation? Really. It’s your first time in a dispensary? No kidding. I’ve heard that 800 times today. Yes, I understand that having to answer the same dumb question is common to many jobs, especially retail.  However, being a budtender is different. You the weed tourist are of course enthusiastic. Weed stores? Wow! Exciting. Yes, but guess what? You have no clue … Continue reading →

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Most poems we could all have written; Few though stand strong against the sea of mediocrity. But be not discouraged by “be not” phrases or those who’ve memorized technical beats; They often merely bleat like goats on cliffs where their true gift is in nimble feet. I belong there among the goats but occasionally we all bleat into the wind and get lucky, the whoosh and whirl of creation belonging to eternity and physics but … Continue reading →

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During the first part of “Wild,” by Cheryl Strayed, I felt as if a woman I didn’t know was sobbing in my arms — repetition, rocking, and rhythmic gasping for breath. An uncomfortable feeling. Not to mention the topic in the first chapters. (I’ve had my own battle with cancer.) I read quickly. The point is, however, that I felt her stark feeling laid bare in poetic and compelling narrative, and she took me to the … Continue reading →

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