What Remains (At the End of the World)

When I lived in Germantown, Ohio, as a child, my bedroom was on the second floor tucked into the eaves over the front of the house. During my early childhood on Walnut Street, my best friend lived across the meadow and would often come over to play. Although I was much more solitary the older I got, I was a sociable child in kindergarten and enjoyed playing with others. As an on...

Last night I published four articles in a short series here on my blog. (If you didn't see them in your inbox, it's because they're not regular articles. They're part of a small—often surreal—feature that I will update from time to time). They're a vast departure from my regular subject matter here on my blog, where I usually write about death, divorce, depression, and the liv...

Jason Arday, fellow autist and former Cambridge University professor, died on Friday. The cause of death has not yet been released, but in the wake of the controversy surrounding his alleged plagiarism and subsequent resignation from his position at Cambridge, many are speculating that he took his own life. I do not want to add to the pain of his family by commenting on any co...

I first heard of Yukiko Okada, like many Westerners, in the context of the so-called "Yukiko Syndrome," the rise in deaths by self-infliction in Japan immediately following her death. I've been reading about—and pondering—strange and morbid stories most of my life. Hers, though, was different from most others: she was only eighteen when she chose to jump from the roof of the Sun...

When I was young there was an old Damia song which was recorded in 1929 called "Les Goëlands" (it was actually written by Lucien Boyer in 1909 and first sung by Damia in 1911). It tells the story of seagulls who gather the souls of dead sailors. It actually sparked my lifelong fascination with seagulls...but tinged with a slight horror.

Why do I mention this a centu...