The following story is an outtake from my memoir The Accidental Terrorist. The names of most of the other participants, including relatives, have been changed to offer some small measure of concealment. When I was eighteen, my father and I...  read

I have no illusions of immortality Or do I? The way I shovel known poisons into my mouth Shout motherfucker at drivers who cut me off The way I still haven't put up the smoke alarms, two years later The...  read

My deepest thanks to everyone who posted or called or sent cards on the occasion of my father's passing. (Well, to everyone but the ones who tried to use the opportunity to reassure me of the reality of the afterlife....  read