Zaron Burnett III

Every four years, America likes to flirt with the notion that it will finally start acting like a civilized nation.

On May 14, Vigil was minding his own business, smoking some meth in a McDonald’s parking lot when along came two dudes who wanted to harsh his high.

Our scrapes, breaks and bruises bond us to you.

I grew up in Northern California and my friends were reggae festival-attending hippies and camo-loving hunters. The first thing you learn when you hang around both, they’re the same effing creature.

It can be extra-aggravating or confusing when you’re part of a mess of people because groups have added dynamics.

“Why must you call them women writers? They’re just writers!” I know, right? Totally agree. Have you ever heard anyone say “men writers?” That just sounds stupid.

If you are a man, you are part of rape culture.

It’s been going on since January 29, 2014.

Put on your jersey. Break out the face paint.

You no longer dream of going to Europe with your buddies – now you think about touring Tuscany with her. You’ve checked ticket prices.

I felt there was another group of people, one that we could all learn something from; if only to remind us of how many changes we’ve all been through.

It’s such a magical word. Speak its name and it makes all common sense disappear.