Provisions: New York Pizza

(Originally, this series was titled “Quarantine Provisions” — but of course, our government doesn’t do sensible things like Quarantining to kill off a pandemic, so…)

Alright. Take a look at that picture. If it makes your stomach growl, if you’re familiar with actual, honest-to-Brooklyn, no-nonsense, New York style pizza, you’re going to love this entry. I have, after spending half of my life, off and on, outside of the NY metropolitan area, finally cracked the formula for producing a NY-style pie at home. Read on.

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Another Year That Wasn’t

I haven’t posted here since February — 10 months ago. 2021 has been, like 2020 before it, another Year That Wasn’t, as I’m sure it has been for many of you. We occupy this bizarre, liminal space of being-yet-not-being, safe-yet-not-safe, healthy-yet-not-healthy.

I’ve said it before, and it bears repeating: The effects of this pandemic on the mental health of, well, the world, really, is impossible to reckon. We’re going to be dealing with a large segment of the population dealing with PTSD, and I don’t think we’ve collectively wrapped our brains around that, as we’re still in the midst of it.

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A Republic, If You Can Keep It.

A cardboard protest sign, which reads "Stop asking me to forgive fascism."
Image courtesy of Adobe Stock.

It should have been a landslide.

It shouldn’t have been a nail-biter.

It was, one hoped, the easiest question ever posed to the American people. After four years of a steady march towards fascism, four years of daily outrages — violations of the Constitution, literal textbook-definition Crimes Against Humanity, human rights violations, criminality and corruption — the American people should have buried Donald Trump and his enablers in the Republican Party in a massive tidal wave of repudiation. Something along the lines of the rejection of Barry Goldwater in 1964. We would stand up, together, and shout as loudly as we could, WE ARE BETTER THAN THIS.

But we’re not.

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