The Re-Con
Hail to the Thief
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I can’t stomach it — the butchered syntax, the prepubescent vocabulary, the oblique threats, the incessant self-congratulation, the bare-assed ignorance, the bald-faced lies.
The Re-Con
The Inheritance
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Dad died last September. We weren’t close. Never had been. States and ages and resentments separated us. In the last twenty years we spoke twice.