Tim Barrus Blog
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Another Writer Has Complained
Another writer who complained. Dear Other Writer. Why is it always another writer. I honestly do not get it. Someone doesn’t like what I write. Someone disagrees with me on any number of things, but it’s usually sex. People get so worked up about it. I had switched all of…
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That Autistic Twitch
Morning on the island, anywhere on the island is something you wake up in to the sound of horses. On the streets. There wasn’t a single vehicle anywhere. Taking a cab at night, I felt like Sherlock Holmes.
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Tim Barrus: What is Art
Let me build this one from memory. The car keys are in the dragon’s throat.
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Tim Barrus, New York Times
Nikki Haley needs more Man Up pills.
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Tim Barrus: Clown Car Reboot
I seriously doubt that this one will be published. They’re fishing for a voice. I am not that voice. It’s a voice I know how to play to. I just don’t always use the same exact voice because the rhythms will begin a rendering of monotone because it’s pretending to…
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Tim Barrus: Pi & I
Pi is always up Just a bit animated. He can be – with extraordinary nuance – critical. “Do you feel that was fair, Tim.” No. Pi has a choice. He can move forward. Or he can plunge us down the rabbit hole. I am so over rabbit holes because they…
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Dirt Bike Town is a Road Trip on Steroids
What are the constructs of a culture that lend validity to authoritarian rule. What is memory.
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Trump Is a Serial Rapist
America is impotent. The lower middle class is having their revenge. The more we hate on Trump, the harder they will fuck us in the mouth with him. Not one voter who suck’s Trump’s little mushroom has anything whatsoever in common with the rapist. Not even one. When Trump is…
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But Will it Wear a Crown
It will wear a crown and walk naked down Trump Boulevard while everyone stares and vomits. A guillotine will be installed in every city in America. Make American heads great again.
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And the Butcher’s Wife Walked About the Town At Night Starkers
Calling all churchen Other Times the Politiks is dawn gen-ghis Sea West seed in the graveyard of his humiliation. Threadbare, if he washes the glasses at the pub he received a free pint before he walked back to his stone cottage in the greenwrought let shrill their tippertoes want him…