My father Edward Wictor was a complete stranger. Since his death on February 23, 2013, he’s become even more of a mystery. Dad wrote three unpublished memoirs that are nearly impossible to read. Like the film Pulp Fiction, they don’t follow a chronological narrative. Instead, they jump around in time and place, they contain almost…
On Losing Everything, Part One
June 3, 2014
Two days ago I wrote about Ryan Kelly Chamberlain, a man wanted by the FBI. I got the details of the story wrong. He didn’t have ricin, and his car wasn’t rigged with explosives. He was arrested in San Francisco yesterday after leaving a trail ten miles wide. For example, he used his ATM card…
On Losing Everything, Part Two
June 3, 2014
So, what are my thoughts on Ryan Kelly Chamberlain’s letter about losing everything? I think it’s a joke. He’s a joke. Don’t get me wrong: His depression is certainly real. But how he handled his problems is sickeningly self-indulgent. Today a fat, fabulously wealthy bastard told me I was too angry, and I need to…
Rich, trendy, vacuous, and ready to kill thousands.
June 1, 2014
Meet Ryan Chamberlain. He lives in the Russian Hill neighborhood of San Francisco. Ryan is a self-described political junkie, wordie, techie, fithead, poker player, and sports fan. And he’s now wanted by the FBI because he was laying the groundwork for a mass-casualty terrorist attack. Why are so many truly fortunate people ready to kill…
Why a cat made me believe in reincarnation
May 31, 2014
I’m currently feeding a family of feral cats. I don’t want to, but I don’t see that I have a choice. Today, the cats themselves pretty much told me that I have to keep doing it. I’ll explain what happened. And then I’ll tell you how another cat made me believe in reincarnation. Five days…
This is real
May 31, 2014
I just learned of Cameron Carpenter. Last night I had a strange nightmare in which I attended a NAMM (National Association of Music Merchants) show and tried to buddy up to the bassist Stanley Clarke. He looked just like Jimi Hendrix and refused to acknowledge me. I rubbed my face against his as he made…
That’s not therapy. THIS is therapy.
May 28, 2014
The Isla Vista spree killer was in therapy since the age of eight, including almost every day while in high school. That’s total baloney. He didn’t undergo therapy. THIS is therapy, what I will now tell you about myself. In 1998 I was at the end of my rope. My career as a music journalist…
Just had a brush with the next spree killer
May 27, 2014
I’m drinking coffee again. And how! I shouldn’t, because of the Meniere’s disease, but I’m losing my doctor in less than a month, I’m writing a very emotionally draining novel, we’re now feeding a family of doomed feral cats, and I’m not happy with people in my life. I buy my coffee at a convenience…
