​I started the 2021 Los Angeles Marathon next to a barefoot runner named Albert Perusset, who I would later learn was the world record holder for running barefoot marathons. After the race, I looked him up and discovered a profound editorial he penned for a digital magazine called Mr Feelgood. Unfortunately, the marathon we ran together would be his last, an astonishing 211th barefoot marathon. Perusset passed away only a month after the race. However, the wisdom he shared lives on through the people he inspired. This post is dedicated to the memory of Albert Perusset, who left an indelible impact on me through our brief interaction and his sage advice. 

Taylor Branch’s Parting the Waters: America in the King Years, 1954-1963, offers a masterful account of the early Civil Rights Movement, focusing on the life and leadership of Martin Luther King Jr., from the Montgomery bus boycott to the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. Through this lens, Branch presents not only a biography of King but also a history of a movement that reshaped American democracy. His evocative prose and rigorous research capture the complexity, passion, and heartbreak of this transformative era.

​Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged is a sprawling dramatization of her objectivist philosophy, a work that venerates selfishness as a cardinal virtue while decrying altruism as a destructive force. The novel’s central narrative follows Dagny Taggart, a determined industrialist striving to keep her family’s railroad company afloat amidst societal collapse. What sets the text apart—both strikingly and problematically—is its moral absolutism: the heroes are rich, rational industrialists who embody brilliance, while the villains are cynical bureaucrats and collectivists, cloaked in the language of public good but ultimately parasitic and corrupt.

​What does discipline mean to me? I am reflecting on this question at the behest of Dr. Kate, the slow productivity advocate and coach. I am dedicating time and attention to this question because it is a valuable means to organize my thoughts regarding a range of topics that can be productively addressed by doing so. 
 
First, it is worthwhile to propose a definition of discipline. I define discipline as “a set of standards for which to do a particular thing.” Some associate discipline with onerous and restrictive rules intended to enforce conformity. This conception of discipline maintains a negative connotation among more free-spirited people. However, I contend that discipline in service of just or noble ends is no vice. One can significantly enhance their abilities to achieve some desired end through discipline and adherence to a specific practice. In fact, without discipline, the concept of consistency implied in the invocation, one will be hard-pressed to realize their desired ends.

During a lecture on addiction and attachment, a woman described having a co-dependent relationship with God and asked Ram Dass how not to feel that way.
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That was an interesting way to put that question. I thought about having a problematic worship practice or being holier than thou. He thought for a few moments and responded with something profound.

Revisiting My Life by Bill Clinton was a fascinating journey, offering me a chance to reflect on the presidency of Bill Clinton through a much richer lens than when I first encountered it in high school. At that time, I read only portions of the book, and while it piqued my interest, I lacked the perspective I’ve gained through graduate school, personal experience in politics, and years of studying the presidency. Returning to it now was a deeply nostalgic and intellectually engaging experience, particularly because Clinton’s presidency unfolded during my lifetime.

What It Takes by Richard Ben Cramer is a monumental work, exploring the complex dynamics of the 1988 presidential election. Spanning over 1,000 pages, it covers the campaigns of George H.W. Bush, Michael Dukakis, Bob Dole, Dick Gephardt, Gary Hart, and Joe Biden, with appearances by figures like Al Gore and Jesse Jackson. 

Don DeLillo’s Underworld is, in many ways, the novel I thought I was going to write when I imagined my first book back in my early 20s. At that time, I had this idea for a novel tentatively titled Trash or Summa Americana, a wide-ranging postmodern exploration of trash and its intersection with violence and politics in the United States. But as I began to conceptualize it, I was intimidated by the sheer scale and complexity of the project—how to weave together multiple cities, characters, and intersecting plots into a cohesive narrative. And that’s exactly what DeLillo achieves in Underworld.

Theodore H. White’s The Making of the President 1960 is a captivating journalistic account of one of the most dynamic presidential elections in U.S. history. White offers readers a first-hand glimpse into the campaign machinery of some of the most prominent figures in 20th-century American politics, including John F. Kennedy, Richard Nixon, and Lyndon B. Johnson. His access to the inner workings of these campaigns, particularly Kennedy’s, provides an intimate view of the candidate’s strengths, weaknesses, and the broader political questions of the era.

David McCullough’s Truman is a sweeping, almost cinematic portrayal of an accidental president who defied every expectation. This is not just a biography; it’s an epic, a narrative of American grit and integrity wrapped up in the figure of Harry S. Truman.

Rick Perlstein’s Reaganland: America's Right Turn marks a fascinating continuation of his exploration into American political history. Having previously read Perlstein's Nixonland, I found the stylistic and tonal shifts in Reaganland to be quite pronounced. However, the book remains replete with the wide-ranging and meticulously researched evidence that characterizes Perlstein's work, showcasing his deep cultural understanding and the intricate ways in which culture, politics, and history intersect.

I am fascinated by the mountains. Mountaineering epics move me in ways that few other things do. I’m deeply inspired by the audacity and perseverance of the mountaineers that came before me. I’m curious to visit some of the world's tallest peaks to see what’s there. The metaphor entices me fundamentally.
 
Ambition, curiosity, and excitement attract me to mountaineering. When Greta and I moved to Seattle in 2021, Mt. Rainier was clearly visible many days of the year. After a few weeks in the city, I put the summit of Mt. Rainier on my bucket list. When I did so, I figured I was many years away from realizing this goal. Learning to glacier travel, manage crevasses, and utilize an ice axe seemed distant at the time. 

​Thought-provoking and, at times, hilarious. I’ve had bullshit jobs before, so I recognize the phenomenon. To summarize, people get paid because someone willing to pay prefers not to do the thing being paid for. Things worth doing are typically poorly paid or unpaid. Very few jobs are both interesting and highly paid. A substantial percentage of jobs are bullshit. What an interesting state of affairs!

A literary masterpiece and innovative journalistic account of a group at the center of a profoundly influential social movement. Hilarious, thought-provoking, and an absolute joy to read. Wolfe captures the ironical, anti(semi)-intellectual subtleties of the Merry Pranksters, a group easily caricatured. The Merry Pranksters used LCD to open their minds to new possibilities and ways of living. Beyond reappropriating Eastern or European lifestyle tropes for an American context, the group, led by Ken Kesey, cultivated an alternative lifestyle indigenous to the United States.

My new book of poetry "Lamentations, Renunciations, Bearing Witness" explores identity, society, and self amidst the anonymity of urban life. Set against the backdrop of American cities like Seattle, Los Angeles, and Chicago, the collection uses vivid poetic narratives to meditate on themes of alienation and the clash between individual desires and societal norms. The works seeks to use emotive language and rich imagery illuminate the personal and societal challenges that shape human experiences, making each poem a deep reflection on contemporary existence.

Barack Obama discusses race and identity from an introspective and multifaceted perspective. His evaluation is never too sure of itself, questioning, and reflective. Characters are given respect, though he mixes his judgment with apparently realistic, practical analysis. Their foibles and inconsistencies interweave with their superlative qualities to craft a humane diorama of one man's life in the presence of others. His characters evince a contrived quality as well. Their intonations often seem to reflect a composite attitude stereotypical of a certain type of person. Sometimes, the characters seem like vehicles for Obama to express ideas or opinions he would rather not have associated with the narrator.

I recently compiled a series of photos that I took over the course of several years called "Pit Stops and Panic Attacks." The photos in this collection depict the life of a road dog. In America, the road symbolizes opportunity. However, the streets are not without danger. Cars symbolize freedom, but their significant costs and risks are obsured by ubiquity. Can we imagine life without cars?

Running the JFK 50 ultramarathon in November 2022 was a defining experience, one that challenged me physically, mentally, and emotionally. It was a humbling reminder of the delicate balance between preparation and perseverance required to navigate ultramarathon distances.