MM) There’s an ironic dimension to the title Confidence Man. It feels like something of a wink or put-on, a provocation of sorts that invites a wry interpretation. Something postmodern or deconstructive about it. The narrator in many of these stories seems to be conducting an autopsy on trauma while simultaneously living with the inveterate spoils. He’s possessed of a sterling, sociopathic charisma and masculine character, yet something’s fundamentally askew,
Star-mangled inner connections. Online interactions smashed by Amor asteroids and Klonopin marbles. Call it what you want. For me, the subconscious meandering towards the salubrious orbit of the Eris duo tugged at my heart like a violent tidal inertia. Upon first reading their words, I was instantly attracted to their prose, and their personalities. So similar to what I normally look for in literary art,
America’s secondary San Francisco resides in the Great State of Texas, and has approximately 0.004 more firearms per capita because of the State’s lackadaisical attitudes towards gun regulation.
The rate of firearm death remains constant, however. This fact, as well as the amount of Trump supporting lesbian couples that populate this wilderness of idealism, perplexes our research team to this day.
The Californian is much more attractive in physical appearance than the many other subgroups that populate this inbred-yet-diverse nation. One need not wonder why the majority of this state’s citizens prefer to act out the achievements of their superiors rather than accomplishing anything of note themselves: their beauty makes their lives far too easy, and prevents them from any true inner drive.
Shallow, gullible, and liberal without any justification,