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The Bridge Generation Between the Paper Mountain and the Uncanny Valley

As we descend deeper and deeper into The Uncanny Valley, we are left to wonder if we want those built to be like us, to be like us, or if we prefer them to look mechanical so we can more immediately identify not just what, but who, we are interacting with in our intimate lives.

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An Old Man and a Lost Wife: Ten Sentence Story #177

A couple are visiting a family friend; one who stepped in to save the home of one of their parents after their eviction from a country where they had farmed for years, employing local people, feeding and educating local families and whose recovery from their loss of everything was then about to be lost again in their own countries’ revolution.

A word was given and later a simple legal paper signed, a house changed hands for nothing and was saved for their family, now many years later the time had come for that house to be sold.

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Thirty Years On Today: Burying Oliver Mark Wadey

They say that time heals — I beg to differ. It may cloud and diminish generalities, but on this day, every year, the pain is still the pain that only the gut wrenching sorrow that the loss of a child can bring. True that pain is confined to this day and this day alone and in spite of all my efforts and strategies over the years to cope with it, deal with it, or even try to ignore it altogether, I never quite manage to do so.

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Inking Identity

Tattoos have served as rites of passage, marks of status and rank, symbols of religious and spiritual devotion, decorations for bravery, sexual lures and marks of fertility, pledges of love, punishment, amulets and talismans, protection, and as the marks of outcasts, slaves and convicts.

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A Memory of Martha

There are few safe harbors in a big city, but one of the most reliable places you can rest your feet every week and not feel afraid is the neighborhood laundromat.  Laundromats are busy and packed with people on a shared mission.  We don’t have laundry facilities in our building, so we are forced to outsource our laundry.  Because our schedules are so wacky, we use the Laundromat’s drop off service where we pay a little extra to have somebody else deal with cleaning our dirty clothes.

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A Walk a Day Keeps the Hippocampus in Play

Janna and I are crazy about walking.  We take at least two, brisk, 30-minute, walks each day.  During the work week, Janna runs her urban core routine as part of her daily commute via trains and her shoes, and I rally around the neighborhood between writing breaks.  At night, we take our final walk of the day together to review our day apart and to chat about plans for the next day.

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Where Have I Been and Where Am I Going?

I have always said we blog to record the truth and over the last week, I’ve been paging through the truths of my life over the past 15 years as we move old Go Inside Magazine articles from a static page format to new, dynamic, WordPress.com publishing.

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