Introduction Are we drowning in algorithmic mucus and metrics? Pause, breathe, and take a look around the digital plantation. Every feed is jammed with AI sludge, advertising dumps, and viral hype cycles.  The corporate suits and fake gurus sta...

I’m 24 years old, sitting in a beige cubicle at my office job in Atlanta, staring at a glowing computer screen.  It’s 11:57 on a Tuesday, a cup of bitter green tea sitting next to my mousepad, pretending to work.  Suddenly, on my screen, a...

I’m twenty-one years old, sitting cross-legged on the threadbare carpet of the Borders’ reference section at 8:45 on a Tuesday night.  Surrounded by a wall of fourteen open paperbacks, my lap balances a yellow legal pad, two cups of old green t...

I lie flat on my back on my living room rug, staring at a flimsy-painted blue wall, reflecting images from my cheap TV.  It is exactly 3:14 on a Saturday morning.  My niece’s birthday stuff is all over the place, her banner hangs along the...

I’m a 22-year-old Upper Echelon young black man in Atlanta Georgia. The other men, I call them losers, they opt for manual labor. Getting up early and following rules made by someone else. That’s for high school. However, tonight’s not working out f...

I’m a 25-year old Sophomore at a HBCU and today, I decided to do community service by transporting two teens in a small bus. I follow the directions and when I arrive, I have no idea where to start or where to go from here. I peer at my check-in she...

I’m a burned out 32 year-old Technical Writer taking my staycation in the Warm Mineral Springs at North Port Florida. I arrive and I’m not impressed. I open the driver's door and try to swing my left leg out—but pain shoots through my hip and I hiss...

I’m 11 years old and cleaning my uncle’s apartment on a humid Saturday morning. All that matters is finishing and watching cartoons, that’s all I care about. Arrgghh, this is his house, his rules. I wait downstairs and he rumbles down the stairs, wi...

I am a 33 year old Technical Writer doing research at the local library in Peachtree City Georgia. All you need to know is that everything here is rigid and runs by checklists. It’s a normal Saturday afternoon and above, modern tactical aircraft fro...

I am standing in my laundry room, scrubbing an arrogant ring of glue-like detergent off the plastic rim of my washing machine.  I don’t see the point, I use detergent to clean, but now I have to clean the detergent that’s supposed to clean. My ...

It’s a humid day at Morris Brown College, an HBCU, and I am the Editor of our College Newspaper. That’s right, the good guy that women step on. But that’s life in the Newspaper business. Good guys finish last. I sit on a plastic bench, unzip my back...

I am seven years old, standing in the check-out line of a local grocery store. My grandmother Alice, her wheat-enriched eyes, peering at the cashier, a skinny pink-skinned lady with dark brown hair, her glasses reflecting the sun rays coming in from...

I am fourteen years old, walking down Mount Gilead Road in Atlanta, my suede pumas stepping on dandelions, while bass rattles out of a loud Green Volkswagen Rabbit. Its rusted pipe screeches on the pavement, releasing small sparks. The song, Electri...

This is my declaration today. I’m going to make an amazing discovery. Since nothing’s scheduled, I will pick my destiny by chance. I go to google maps and point with my finger without looking. When I open my eyes, I peer down at the Hewlett-Packard ...

I struggle today with a question Denzel Washington keeps needling me on. If you don't read the news, you're uninformed.  If you do, you're misinformed. So which one am I supposed to be? I'm sitting with a piece I'm trying to verify. Trying to g...