Gary Indiana

I often speculated that the Bikini Killings were a twisted, homoerotic death ritual triggered by amphetamine psychosis. I wanted to suggest this to the Bombay police, but since I was on speed myself, I decided that wasn't the best idea.

For anyone cognizant of Vladimir Putin's backstory, his intrusion on the Syria matter has been one of those paradoxical demonstrations that "a stopped clock is right twice a day."

At the time of writing, Bill de Blasio has gleaned 40.2 percent of the vote in the New York Democratic mayoral primary. The other candidates fizzled out big time.

The $53 billion intelligence budget, with costs of "controlled intervention", and costs of the US military actions in Afghanistan, Pakistan, Iraq, etc could send underprivileged children in the US through 4 years of a fucking Ivy League university.

In Bucharest, the psychological damage inflicted on a society subjected to surveillance terror is apparent everywhere when you scratch the surface, even 24 years after the fall of Ceauşescu.

I am wholly in favor of anyone wishing to promote his or her genitals on Facebook or Instagram being able to do so.

I dream I've been placed in a situation where suicide is the only option—not because of imminent physical destruction or incurable medical problems, but because the prospect of extreme, permanent immiseration appears as a virtual certainty.

It's true that someone at dinner last night lives in the Chelsea Hotel, and for years, as it happens, I regularly visited a friend there who has an enviably spacious apartment on one of the upper floors.

In Cuba male prostitutes, 'pingueros,' have mixed in with gay people in Havana in growing numbers, numbers that correlate closely with the spread of private enterprise, income inequality, and foreign-made consumer goods.

Today the celebrated writer speaking at the 92 Street Y shakes his wiser head, recalling his youthful naiveté.