The Proof In Our Existence

  People are inherently good. We're raised to believe this concept from the time we're old enough to get bored during liturgy and choose sides on the playground. Most kids aren't concerned with empirical validation when the freedoms they hold most dear are threatened; yanno, stuff like playtime and dessert. Then there was me. I… Continue reading The Proof In Our Existence

3 Days In Woodstock

  The Museum at Bethel Woods is the good acid. Because it will trip you out inside the time spent, with no shitty side effects. Yanno . . like ending up in the ER, or dying. I could go through a good many different sentiments in regards to the forty five minute gallivant me and Q took… Continue reading 3 Days In Woodstock

Three Days In Woodstock

The ride from Woodstock to Max Yasgur's farm in Bethel, New York is a stained glass portrait of mountain ranges that unfurl in rhythmic piecemeal. Inside the deep emerald wound of birches, maples, cedars, hornbeams and spruce, you can taste the flavor of a thousand years worth of patience. Geologically speaking, the Catskills are not… Continue reading Three Days In Woodstock