Le Pyromane by Ali Cherri spells out ‘I am not a pyromaniac’ using hundreds of matchsticks.


In Colbert’s vehicle, the  Mark-19 jammed again—as it has in the two previous engagements. Hasser, who’s manning the weapon, screams, “Shit! Shit! Shit!” and pounds the roof of the Humvee, trying to unjam it. He lets out a half-crazed scream. “Raaah!

Colbert shouts up to him, “Walt! You’re losing control of yourself. Shut the fuck up and take a deep breath.”

“This goddamn gun!” Hasser shouts. His voice cracks. “It’s a piece of shit!”

“Walt, you know I like you a lot,” Colbert says, trying to calm him. “But it’s not going to help if you lose control of your emotions. We just don’t have enough LSA to keep it lubed properly. There’s nothing we can do about it.” He adds, “I’m sorry I had to yell at you.”

Generation Kill p. 217

For the Men Who Still Don’t Get It


What if 
all women were bigger and stronger than you 
And thought they were smarter 
What if 
women were the ones who started wars 
What if 
too many of your friends had been raped by women wielding giant dildos 
and no K-Y Jelly 
What if 
the state trooper 
who pulled you over on the New Jersey Turnpike 
was a woman 
and carried a gun 
What if 
the ability to menstruate 
was the prerequisite for most high-paying jobs 
What if 
your attractiveness to women depended 
on the size of your penis 
What if 
every time women saw you 
they’d hoot and make jerking motions with their hands 
What if 
women were always making jokes 
about how ugly penises are 
and how bad sperm tastes 
What if 
you had to explain what’s wrong with your car 
to big sweaty women with greasy hands 
who stared at your crotch 
In a garage where you are surrounded 
by posters of naked men with hard-ons 
What if 
men’s magazines featured cover photos 
of 14-year-old boys 
with socks 
tucked into the front of their jeans 
and articles like: 
“How to tell if your wife is unfaithful” 
“What your doctor won’t tell you about your prostate” 
“The truth about impotence” 
What if 
the doctor who examined your prostate 
was a woman 
and called you “Honey” 
What if 
You had to inhale your boss’s stale cigar breath 
as she insisted that sleeping with her 
was part of the job 
What if 
You couldn’t get away because 
the company dress code required 
you wear shoes 
designed to keep you from running 
And what if 
after all that 
women still wanted you 
to love them.

- Carol Diehl