Author Archives: ManninoAcid

Friendly Foreign Shores

We took a trip across the inland seaTo an island beyond this placeWhere the music played and beckoned meAnd the natives were warm with grace There we found equanimityA place just this side of perfect.Absent was any hostilityThat we have grown to expect Instead, we found the kindest folkOffering the bounty of their spiritWhere wordsContinue reading “Friendly Foreign Shores”

A Father’s Day Lament: In Gradients of Grateful Grief

Father’s Day lately has been a bittersweet occasion—a time of inevitable melancholy. Join me as I explore the complex array of emotions this annual commemoration of Dad can elicit. As it turns out, generational inertia tugs in both directions

Baseball: Harmony in Time and Statistics

Baseball isn’t just a pastime — it’s the passing of time. A ritual played in discrete innings decoupled from time. A game with no clock, but endless permutations. Its baked-in mathematics has long made it the sport of philosophers, statisticians, and anyone enchanted by patterns hiding in plain sight. At its core, baseball resonates withContinue reading “Baseball: Harmony in Time and Statistics”

The Surreality of “Subreality”

Last week, I was reminiscing with some high school pals over the terrible songs my short-lived high school band produced, most notably “Subreality,” where my pathetic attempt at singing has turned the song into the stuff of legends. The guys regularly throw old lyrics back at me, and we’ll laugh at the absurdity. There, inContinue reading “The Surreality of “Subreality””

Climbing the Digital Beanstalk: The Perils and Promise of Modern Connectivity

This post explores the paradox of the digital age, where technology empowers us with limitless knowledge and instant connectivity but also burdens us with dependency and a loss of deeper contemplation. It delves into the trade-offs between convenience and critical thinking, questioning whether we have sacrificed genuine understanding and connection for the fleeting rewards of modern digital tools.

The Ghosts of Piggies Past

Huddled in the strange new darknessThe very first night in his new homeA baby piggy is counting the momentsFacing a long cold night all alone Strange noises crowd his tiny spaceSleep but the dreams that evadeWith his heart running a frantic raceHis sense of comfort continues to fade Just when he fears he can bearContinue reading “The Ghosts of Piggies Past”