PicoBlog

Tuesday, January 9th was quite the day in Gatlinburg. What started out as a working day, ended up far more interesting than I expected. I am writing this post on a few different fronts. First, I want to give you a factual account of what happened; second, I’d like to alleviate some of the concern that arose from all the postings on social media. Unfortunately, people get the wrong information or impression when something bad happens here—and sometimes, it's not even bad at all.

Welcome to Flashlight & A Biscuit, my Southern sports/culture/food offshoot of my work at Yahoo Sports. Thanks for reading, and if you’re new around here, why not subscribe? Now, on with the fightin’. Consider, for a second, the courage-slash-stupidity it takes to stand in front of someone pointing a gun at you that you know they’re about to fire. Consider, for another second, what a bad idea it is to fight a guy who’s got a weapon named after him.

Welcome to Flashlight & A Biscuit, my Southern sports/culture/food offshoot of my work at Yahoo Sports. Thanks for reading, and if you’re new around here, why not subscribe? It’s free and all.  For the SEC season, I’m doing a tale about one of every week’s matchups — and this week has one of the great debates in SEC history — but I know a significant percentage of my readers aren’t much interested in the sporting life.

If you've ever awakened in the middle of the night remembering that one thing you did twenty years ago that makes you a horrible person, this story is for you. Twenty years ago, I was a young teacher dedicated to taking every project straight to Level 10. This extended to my personal life as well, such as the Flat Stanley project my niece sent me when she was in second grade. If you're not familiar with the Flat Stanley project, it was/is a widely popular elementary school assignment in the Midwest where, after reading the book Flat Stanley, students were given their own Flat Stanley paper doll, which they were encouraged to send to a friend or family member far away.

The more adults I meet, the more I become a grumpy old man. I used to roll my eyes at the eternal adolescence in American culture, especially at how my generation and those after us play video games and never stop obsessing over pop culture long enough for it to be considered nostalgia. But I’ve found that the people who let’s say, never stopped watching Star Wars and still go to fan conventions are often better at adulting than the people who swapped hoodies for Polo branded garments and 2.

Félicien Rops (1833-1898) was a Belgian graphic artist whose work embodies the Decadent Movement’s attitude towards art and morality. In one sense, this artist lived a conventional life. He was a master printmaker and also frequently went out to paint in the landscape. He was in demand as a caricaturist and illustrator, with his prints appearing in journals, newspapers and books. His art ranges from Social Realism to Symbolism and fin-de-siecle decadence.

In a revealing case from Florida, Maya Moore, a 15-year-old honor student previously reported as missing, is caught in a charged custody dispute involving alleged coercion and abuse. Maya's father, retired military officer Michael Moore, is fighting to keep her away from her biological mother, whom he accuses of being dangerous. Maya, described as an articulate teenager, says the Family Court dismissed abuse allegations, leading to her being placed with her mother, the alleged abuser.

Foreword by Aristo: This is the sequel to the first book review I published on the Substack, The Turquoise Serpent, written by Alexander Palacio, who goes by @conan_esq on Twitter. His first book was phenomenal and he’s already hard at work on book 3 of his Ashes of the Urn series, an aesthetically mesoamerican take on Conan the Barbarian. I wanted the review of the second book to be from a different readers perspective, and Elrond Hubbard(@ElronHubb), whoreviewed Shagduk for me, was almost finished reading Flowers of the Moon at the time, so it worked out perfectly.

Because the streets is a short stop Either you slingin’ crack rock or you got a wicked jump shot In the summer of 1995, my love of two artforms were taking shape: sports journalism, and hip-hop music. Works from each medium that I consider seminal captured my 12-year-old imagination: Rick Telander’s book Heaven is a Playground, a journal of a summer spent on the New York playgrounds in the 1970s; and Notorious B.