Hello, fellow Medium addicts. My name is Jay Sizemore. You may recognize me from such films as “The Poet With Borderline Personality Disorder” or “How to Alienate an Entire Genre of Writers in Five Easy Moves.” I actually have an undiagnosed case of mild Tourette’s Syndrome, which I believe was caused by a brain injury I suffered in 2006. This condition is triggered by disturbing thoughts I have, and routinely causes me to shout unintelligible syllables at random moments, and it always makes my wife laugh.
I’ve been writing for Medium now for a little over a year. During that…
As Greg Stillson awoke one morning from frightful dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into a Trump supporter.
The usual hangover headache of drowsiness and fog, his pre-coffee brain was gone, replaced now with a crystalline certainty about the world. Where previously much had been shrouded in mystery and doubt, now, he felt only a morose calmness. He knew the grand conspiracy of deep state design. He knew vaccines were evil instruments of the Devil. He knew global climate change was a hoax. And most importantly, he knew Donald Trump was sent by God to lead his chosen…
A philosophy professor at Portland State University, Peter Boghossian, went viral this week when he posed an old ethics question to his 124k followers on Twitter. He simply asked, “If the Louvre were burning and you could only save the Mona Lisa, or an old dog, which would you save?”
The tweet utilized the polling option and allowed people to vote on the issue. While not entirely surprising, the results still showed how wildly different people viewed this scenario through their own lenses of morality and estimations of value regarding the preservation of history and the transience of experience. …
~after Jane Austen
When a woman is successful
she’s never in want
of a husband.
Her nerves, like old friends,
hold an elegance
What is marriage
but a contest of wills, a wager
who can outlive the other?
The societal frills
have blown ragged
as wedding veils
tied to cannibal crosses
like cancer ribbons,
yet teacups are still held
just so, pinky extended.
crying to be cut down now,
and one word
silences them forever —
When a woman is successful
she recites her vows
to the hammer,
prayer like flecks of glass caught on…
As an occasional reader and writer of horror fiction, I often find myself pondering what could be the absolute most terrifying situation I could find myself in. I’ve asked friends to tell me what they are most afraid of. I’ve created surveys to see which would be worse, scenario A or scenario B, all in the hopes of trying to better understand the human emotion of fear and how to engage this emotion for more provocative responses to my fiction.
The truth is, it’s different for every individual. What scares you might not scare me, because we have all had…
This poem will make you famous
I painted my face on this rock and now I’m throwing the rock, I’m throwing the rock through your bedroom window where you were probably sleeping and dreaming of neon fedoras left on the hat racks of Hell or anything else other than my face now entering your domicile to the accompaniment of shatter and shard and the tenebrous tinkle of pointless alliteration scattering like sand grains lost from a beach towel and forever embedded in the creases of your car seats. Yes, I’m that ear worm. I’m the song you heard that stuck…
You may have heard the news. Some big changes were just announced on Medium, and they are doing away with Medium-backed publications on the platform. Word is, this has to do with Joe Biden seeing his feed flooded with Erotica content, due to how the algorithm picks popular reading topics for new users.
I didn’t even know Erotica was that big on Medium. But apparently it is very popular.
What happened next is a wild story. To get the full scoop, we sat down with President Biden to hear his personal account of the situation.
INTERVIEWER: Good morning, Mr. President…
Death by any other name
is still the sound of a siren,
and this conversation is a gun
being fired into the barrel
of another gun.
Maybe this Assault Rifle
never assaulted anyone,
it took its orders
from the apple pie
cooling in the window,
and if you pressed a microphone
to the lips of the dead,
asked their opinion
on the difference
between cause and effect
the silence would wake you up at night,
because in the absence
of their voices,
you could hear the blood drip
like the sound of the largest clock
ticking beneath the surface of…
Let me be the first to admit it: I was wrong. Before the infamous Snyder Cut of Justice League was even ready for release, I was more than willing to hate it. This had very little to do with the actual quality of the film itself and had more to do with a set of presumptions I was making based on the toxicity of the culture that necessitated its creation.
I watched The Snyder Cut not out of any real sense of curiosity or want, but more out of spite. I wanted to gleefully throw it in the faces of…