I wrote this collection as part of a somewhat-collaborative project with a few friends. The intention was to depict rootless, haunted lives and I guess I did okay with that. There may have been more of these stories but I am not sure what happened to the rest.
This collection of stories was (clearly) inspired by and influenced by Naked Lunch. At one point I got very manic and submitted a bunch of these stories to The New Yorker (where I had a cordial, encouraging relationship with the acquisitions staff). They asked me to refrain from submitting further stories. There was no coherent narrative and I intentionally infused the stories with red herrings suggestive of an over-arching plot. I have not bothered putting these stories in any kind of order as there's no linear story to follow. I was very interested in the flexibility of the English language; casual expressions of racism, misogyny, nationalism, and fascism. I wanted to expose the hypocrisy of euphemisms, the horror of drug addiction, and the exploitation of power. It's probably not an easy read and is often designed to provoke but only in the service of vicious satire.
Various other short stories I wrote at some point between 2006 and 2010.