Rage tagger -- Tijuana.
Chicano Park, San Diego.
Good luck eating this.
The Autobio of Malcolm X.
Their Eyes Were Watching God.
The Underground Railroad.
In January 1994 I dropped out of mainstream society.
Since then I have lived in thirteen different cities stretching from small-town New England, to Alabama, to El Paso, to Los Angeles, to Honolulu. In those cities I have held twenty-three different part-time jobs and met and worked with both parolees and students, both drifters and professionals, both working moms and immigrants, both unmistakable lunatics and borderline suicides. I've mopped floors with them and cleared out warehouses with them. I've fried onion rings beside them and watched them deal drugs. We've celebrated flush nights selling aluminum siding over the telephone, and cursed missing the last bus home. And we've watched out for each other on occasion; but we've also left each other standing in the rain. My neighborhoods have been rough and vibrant. And I've been saved from the street by my credit cards too many times.
I've lived this life for twenty-six years for two reasons: One, because I had a feeling the safe, well-worn grooves of society were not reality; and, two, because I wanted to write about reality.
For the same reason I dropped out of society, I have little interest in begging it to make me famous.
Those people are not my people.
I have come here looking for my people.
If you are interested in truths instead of illusions; if you value revolt instead of conformity; if you honor the chance-takers and the bold; if the big questions haunt you; if struggle and hardship inspire you; if you refuse to exploit or be exploited; if you aim to live truly; if you have the courage to face reality; if you sense something permanent beneath all this fluff that surrounds us; if all this fluff that surrounds us exasperates you, then you are my people.
This website is totally free. Further formulations of the values that motivate it can be read in Some Advice for the Rich from the Poor. There are broader treatments of the ideas in these two scenes from The Gods of our Fathers: February 22 and February 26. The most succinct distillation of my worldview can be found here: The Philosophy of John Dishwasher in 136 words. Having a hard time believing I'm for real? Check out my Honest-to-God resume of 23 part-time jobs in 26 years.