you told me so
so you told me so
so you told me
so i grew up


my family is a riot. sitcom material all over the place. i’ve expended 30% of my energy in laughing over the past two days. here are some bytes, but they don’t do it all justice.

as soon as i get home, cary and mom come to greet me and we are chatting it up in the dining room. mike comes out of the shower a few minutes later in super -tight high waist briefs. my mom and sister start simultaneously groaning and complaining: ahhh ewww Mike geeeez

carebear: (sarcastically) those boxers brand new christmas presents you got there, mike ?

mike: (tip toes daintily over to cary) there a christmas present for you (taps her nose with his index finger as he delivers this one-liner, giggles, prances backwards like a fairy).

later that day, me carebear and sean went to the mall to help cary find a dress that says, “i have a great figure AND i go to church” for a christmas eve service she was planning to attend, and also to say hey to our cousins that currently work at subway there. our cousins weren’t working then, apparently, and, after searching several stores, we decided there were no good looking dresses for a reasonable price that met carebear’s criteria. as we get back in the car, half-defeated:

carebear: man, that is so depressing. not one decent dress in that whole mall.

me: yeah. total waste of time. and marina and mena weren’t even working at subway. this really sucked.

(long silent pause)

sean:  sooo, y’guys wanna form a suicide pack or sumthin?!


home sweet home
sweet home less
weep hope less

“The main difference between science and religion, we were told in school, is that religion is founded on a dogma that is absolute and immutable because it stems from divine revelation, whereas science is tentative because it develops theories that are always open to refutation by new findings or novel experiments. Scientists, therefore, are supposed to be open-minded and to welcome the solution of stubborn problems, even if the new solutions entail a change of thinking and the demise of concepts that seemed well established in the past.


A look at the history of scientific ideas, quickly shows that scientists do not always live up to this ideal open-mindedness. The concepts and methods they grew up with frequently seem to be as unshakable as any matter of religious faith, and the perpetrators of innovation tend to be treated as heretics. This happened to Darwin and his theory of evolution, to Einstein when he first published the theory of relativity, and it happened to Alfred Wegener when he suggested the idea of continental drift. In these spectacular instances the break with tradition advocated by the new theory was unmistakable and, consequently, triggered violent indignation on the part of those who were anxious to maintain the familiar established dogma. The new theories won out eventually, because they enabled scientists to do things they had not been able to do before and to cover a larger area of experience with fewer assumptions.


In philosophy, the pattern has been different, especially with regard to the problems of epistemology, i.e. those concerning knowledge, its origin and its “truth”. These problems remain unchanged and unsolved, and they have troubled Western philosophy for more than 2500 years. It is an historical fact that some of the pre-Socratics, the philosophers who wrote before Plato’s reports of the Socratic dialogues, had already seen the basic epistemological cruz. It source can be found in two presuppositions that have always seemed natural and inevitable:

a) that a fully structured world exists independently of any experiencing or knowing human subject;

b) that the human subject has the task of finding out what the “real” world and its structure are like.


These assumptions inevitably lead to a paradox. Whatever a human subject perceives or conceives is necessarily the result of that human subject’s ways and means of perceiving and conceiving.”

-Ernst Von Glaserfeld, Aspects of Radical Constructivism: 1996.

Related Reading:



“Storytelling reveals meaning without committing the error of defining it.”

“Forgiveness is the key to action and freedom.”

“The point, as Marx saw it, is that dreams never come true. ”

“The new always happens against the overwhelming odds of statistical laws and their probability, which for all practical, everyday purposes amounts to certainty; the new therefore always appears in the guise of a miracle.”

“The ceaseless, senseless demand for original scholarship in a number of fields, where only erudition is now possible, has led either to sheer irrelevancy, the famous knowing of more and more about less and less, or to the development of a pseudo-scholarship which actually destroys its object. ”

“And the distinction between violent and non-violent action is that the former is exclusively bent upon the destruction of the old, and the latter is chiefly concerned with the establishment of something new.”

final ly
went to the greenway
and got a barred owl to notice me
and other birds and a rabbit
and an armadillo
sat in a field and roamed into woods
and stood by water
fool ish ly
believing what i saw
it was speech bubble less beautiful
held back tears at several points
like i always have to do
when everything surrounding
is so speech bubble less beautiful
that i temporarily forget
that i am most certainly not
and can instead
temporarily appreciate
that i know a foolish enough gal
that could insist on passing this all up
regard less ly


I'm lost in the sense we all get lost in here when 
we are practicing turning the light off for good. 
And go home. And I can't. Sometimes alone is
 the most wholesome promising feeling of solitude
 in this whole gaping charmless world.

Sean Borelli (to Nick)youre grossly overweight.

Mary Marcous i wasn’t going to say anything. y’know. be discrete until i saw u. but i guess ur peepaw is right: fb wall is as discrete a place as any to state the obvious: ur gluttonous predispositions r getting the best of u, champ. y do u insist on making it so hard for us to love u

Nick Bohl Would you guys put a lid on it? Please? It’s embarrassing

Mary Marcous your embarrassing

Nick Bohl My embarrassing what, Mary?

Mary Marcous you’re

Mary Marcous ass

Mary Marcous speaking of mistakes, guess who was one?

Nick Bohl Got her!

Nick Bohl Oh…

Mary Marcous p.s. call ur father, u waste of space


Sean Borelli look you guys, this whole thing has just been blown out of proportion (no pun intended…bohl). i mean, yeah, he’s very very fat. yes, it is gross to look at/think about/be around. yes, he wasn’t the most intentionally-had baby on the block and no, daddy doesn’t pick em for their grammatical know-how.

Nick Bohl God.

Nick Bohl What DO you pick em for? The same reasons you buy single packets of butter?

Nick Bohl‎…wait for it.

Nick Bohl Cuz it’s easy to spread em’. HEYOO! Gazinga!….ey?

Sean Borelli I, unlike most people on the receiving end of the ol’ Bohlder “wait for it”, am not disappointed.


you felt that, right?
for a moment there-
my hand was held tight.
for a moment there-
we silently shared
(amidst the nonsense)
the same sense:
that we make sense.

Today was fun. My friends Gabrielle, Tonya, and I decided to do some girl shopping. Both these ladies have an excellent sense of style and always look super cute and put together whenever I see them. So, naturally, I thought this would be an ideal opportunity to learn something from these two pros and really class-up my act a little. The ladies were finding all kinds of stylish clothing items. (In fact, Tonya found not one, not two..but five different pairs of shoes! More than I currently own in total.) There were a lot of Christmas shoppers in the store, and I started getting a little antsy after the first 30- 45 minutes of navigating these capitalistic (hedonistic) waters. Not to mention, I was getting pretty discouraged. I couldn’t find anything nearly as cute or stylish as those two had. Finally, I decided to give up and started loitering non-discretely in the little boy t-shirt section. Well, let’s just say fate must have had my number on this finest of evenings, world- because, deep in the darkest corner of the little boy’s t-shirt section (hidden from general view and in between two bright spiderman t’s) was the shirt I was born and bred my whole life to one day wear: all black, slim fit and, across the front in block white letters, it read:

E = MC Hammer (with a sketched pic of this 90’s beacon of hope dancing crazy in the background)

I laughed out loud. For like two minutes. Got some looks. Then,I  made my way over to the ladies to show off my sweet ass ‘find’. They weren’t as excited as me (from this I could only infer that the shirt, much like its namesake, was just too ahead of its time).

Anyways, we were all hungry after our bargain hunting and it was Jeff O’s turn to pick a place for dinner. (Jeff O struggles with the concept of ‘preferential selection’, so this duty of his is part of a public service effort of my own on behalf of the greater good. You’re welcome, world.) He did pretty well this time, narrowing it down to two places without too much prompting. The four of us ended up at a Mexican restaurant called Los Compadres- it was pretty bad ass. Me and Jeff O got the biggest margaritas I have ever been served at a fine dining establishment. My waiter had accidentally ordered me shrimp fajitas (instead of veggie) but Gabrielle was kind enough to eat up 1/2 the world’s shrimp population for me (seriously, it had a shit ton of shrimp in it).

Anyways, I guess we were just buzzed enough to think it would be a great idea to get more buzzed at Gabrielle’s house. So, that’s what we did next! On the way over, me and Jeff O must have been in the middle of some deep philosophical conversation b/c, one thing led to another, and I found myself trying to explain to this neophyte-of-pop-culture the ontological genesis of the catchphrase ‘apple bottoms jeans’. I explained to him it was a 90’s song inspired from the 90’s  movie ‘Apple Bottom Jeans’, starring none other than America’s sweetheart, Meg Ryan. Having no faith in me or my vast amount of cultural capital, he insisted on looking it up with his ‘smart’-phone technology (note: there will always be scare quotes on that part of the word, or my name isn’t Mary). While Jeff O danced with the devil (idiom I use to express humans and their adulterous love affair with the technology that will one day invariably lead to their apocalyptic demise) we played with the cats and drank wine. I tried to help him out by explaining ‘Apple Bottom Jeans’ came out in 96 (same year as ‘You’ve Got Mail’, which sort of overshadowed it). Much to everyone’s shock (except my own, as I had anticipated his Lucifer-ridden-tele-bot wasn’t as ‘smart’ as everyone so foolishly wanted to believe) Jeff O couldn’t find any information on the whole entire ‘world wide’ web about the movie ‘Apple Bottom Jeans’, not one related link.

Wow. No duh. Total shocker. Moral of that story: Man’s unwavering faith in technology, once again, lets him down…

Anyways, somewhere in between all this hooplaw Tonya had suggested we go see her GoGo Dancer friend perform at Rehab, a gay club I don’t think any of us had been to before (and, after a few glasses of wine, it seemed an altogether reasonable suggestion for a Monday night excursion). I never met her GoGo Dancer friend (got caught up on the dance floor). But I did have my first (two?) bourbon sprays (I think that’s what there called, anyways.) The theme was Winter Wonderland and, for a Monday night, the place had a great turn out. Good music. Real fun for the whole evangelical Christian family. I made a friend, Johnny, who was big and bald and liked to dance. Gabrielle and Tonya, who both actually know how to dance busted respectable moves and we even got Jeff O out there for a few moments of shared nonsense among friends! The music was super loud but, overall, the place had good vibes (surely b/c gay people are the best people) and it ended up being a super great night!

My friend Jeff H. is in India right now, hopefully having the time of his life. I’m house-sitting for him while he travels the world in chase of beautiful women and new experiences. I check his mail and make sure his plants and wild-n-varied assortment of household mold and mildew thrive despite his absence. In return, all I have asked for are some juicy tidbits from his travel abroad experiences, y’know, something to wet my appetite for a country as diverse and intriguing as India- that I may live vicariously through our email exchanges. Below is a sample excerpt from his latest email (don’t worry, Jeff H.  likes when I take his words out of context):

“Yesterday I saw the worst shit smear ever. LOL I see so many piles of shit every day from dogs and   cows that I don’t notice them anymore. But this one really stood out. I should have taken a picture, lol. It was like a cow had diarrhea in the street and then a car drove through it at top speed and slammed on its brakes. 😀:D

As you can see, there is very little to no appreciation for my efforts on the home front. Not only do my updates include shit smear references, Jeff H. had the balls to give me a hard time for not checking his mail box, warning me that it may “overflow” and “important mail” would be returned to sender. Feeling guilty, I finally went to check his mail box, only to swing his mailbox door open to find one tire kingdom coupon booklet and a spiderweb inside to greet me. Well, not only is Jeff H. obsessed with shit smear, he’s apparently got delusions of grandeur as well.

All joking aside, I miss him. I may get some people in on a photo campaign depicting all his nearest and dearest friends desecrating and defiling various items inside his home and post them for him, y’know, to alleviate any unwarranted traveler’s duress he may have incurred on the long travel overseas. Don’t worry, he actually loves when I do stuff like this to him. He acts like he doesn’t, but I know- deep deep deep down- that he does. That’s why we’re best friends (no matter what he tells you).



‘Go court another tender maiden,
And hope that she will be your wife,
For I’ve been warned, and I’ve decided-
To sleep alone all of my life.’

-Joan Baez, Lyrics: Silver Dagger

Our First Bird Watching Adventure

By: Mary M.

Based on a a few true stories and a really good Disney movie and dedicated to Jeff  o

Among his many gifts, my friend Jeff O. is a professional birdwatcher. He had been recruited by the OBF (Organization of Birdwatching freaks) at the tender age of 2 when he was spotted by a surveyor, entirely unprompted, nurturing a little baby bird by regurgitating his Gerber back up into his mouth and allowing the baby bird to suckle it out as a life support for its malnourished little birdy body. 10 years of professional training and 12 missions later, he was called in for what would amount to the most challenging mission ever assigned to him by the OBF: the confirmation of spotting of a Vermillion Flycatcher (a super pretty bright red birdy that can zoom in and peck out the eyeballs of little human babies from literally miles above the earth’s surface) in North East FL’s St. Mark’s National Wildlife Refuge. Jeff O. was no fool. He knew this mission was bigger than him, that he would have to recruit someone with the raw talent and wherewithal to spot this little red mistress of murder within the blink of an eye: enter me. With no formal training in birding or nature or woods or how to use binoculars or general navigation skills, I still managed to help Jeff O. document a probable spotting, (along with a world record setting documentation of over 60 other NE FL birdy spottings!). At first he was skeptical, “It definitely wasn’t a cardinal,” he surmised, “but maybe it was a Tanger. Although, its very rare they’d be here at this time of year.’  ‘You’re talking crazy!’, I shouted. ‘We both know what I saw out there. Now write it down so we get credit for it and I can brag about it to all my friends. Then, call the OBF and let them know mission 13 was a success for the illustrious Jeff O.’ My good deed for the day.

The weather and spirit of the day was glorious. We walked down a really pretty grass path alongside the Gulf of Mexico (where we saw a doggy that looked a little like a bear) Then, we walked out to the edge of a jetty of shells.  I turned to Jeff O.and said: ‘Look Jeff O. everything the light touches is our kingdom.’ and Jeff O. was like ‘Wow.’ and I was like, ‘You see, Jeff O., my time as superior birdwatching expert will rise and fall like the sun. And one day, the sun will set on my time here, and will rise with you as the new superior birdwatching expert.’ and Jeff O., pointing out beyond the horizon of the Gulf of Mexico turned to me and asked, astonishingly, ‘so this will all be mine?’

‘everything.’, I said. ‘everything the light touches.’

The end.


‘Well the heart opens wide

like its never seen love.

And addiction stays on

tight like a glove.’

-Lyrics: Emmylou Harris


drink the bounced checks off her check mates
and stick her in the swollen arm
and reel her in: polite and lifeless
pills and plans all on the floor
and reel her in: rude and reckless
and tell her boy she swam to shore

so the students in the intro to philosophy class I TA for had to do a reading on “psychological egoism”; it’s the view based on the idea that the only thing people are actually able to pursue (or hold as fundamentally valuable) is their own self-interest. Basically, everything someone does, including the promotion of others’ happiness or well-being, is always, really and truly, done out of their own bottom line self-interest. The fact that people often take themselves to be thinking otherwise is largely just a matter of self-deception, according to this view.

Here’s the awesome part: this view was not the most absurd part of the reading assignment. Instead, the absurdity award goes to the counterexample offered by one super-savvy philosopher as a challenge (objection) to this view:

And here, to report from his very own mouth, the horse:

“One might reply to the psychological egoist in some such manner as this: I know some behavior, at least, is unselfish, because I saw my aunt Emma yesterday give her last cent to a beggar. Now she will have to go a whole week with nothing to eat. Surely, that was not selfish of her (Feinberg & Shafer-Landau: Reason & Responsibility, 14th ed: 523).”

 (Annnd, back to me:)

Jesus and Holy mother of mercy: Does no one see what’s wrong with this picture?!?

First off, I don’t know who the hell Aunt Emma is sleeping with to where she only spends 4 CENTS/ MONTH on food(!!)– but give me his-or her- number! Okay, that’s red flag number one in this thought-experiment-from-hell (and it was really steaming my beans)- regardless, even bracketing that non-sense…. we still have Aunt Emma’s asshole philosopher-nephew who is not only (1) watching his (probably senile and cognitively deficient) poor auntie Emma give a way *literally* the *last penny she had left to put some nourishment into her decaying bones* before his very (vapid and emotionless) eyes, BUT (2) he apparently plans to let her starve to death over the course of a week to make his mind-bender of a philosophical point against a lame-ass, trivially true, fairly un-insightful perspective on human action.

Lesson of the day: sometimes, we philosophers have no sense of perspective.


‘But no more worries,

rest your head up- and go to sleep.

Maybe one day, we’ll wake up-

and this will all just be a dream.’


-Eminem, Mocking Bird (Lyrics)



This semester I took classes in: (1) the Philosophy of Science and Social Constructivism (super awesome!) (2) Metaphysical Issues in Composition and Personal Identity and (3) Philosophy of Free Will and (4) Philosophy of Moral Responsibility (Although, I took this last course under a non-standard designaton; so all I had to do for that class was read and learn, no paper-pumping involved.) It was a great semester. I learned a lot. And from every direction: the readings, fellow students, professors. Because it is very much the case that my neurons will race about in every which direction if I don’t quickly anticipate some overarching orientation to the subject material from the get-go- I always try and do just that. This semester, I became (through independent research) semi-obsessed with Radical Constructivism as a methodology worth promoting in the discursive circles of analytic philosophy. I believe all my term paper submissions this semester clearly have threads of that influence in common. I think I have a better grasp of what direction I tend to enjoy focusing my energy in improving my skills in; namely, social theory construction and social systems analysis. I really enjoy thinking with (and applying) the ‘radical’ constructivist lens and can anticipate that being a useful philosophical perspective to develop for the purpose of empowerment-based advocacy for non-privileged and minority subgroups of society (advancing identity politics in academic discourse AND the ‘real world’-it is, after all, everyone’s favorite world to play in, even philosophers’ ). There are a bunch of other interesting thoughts and ideas and arenas of research that have repeatedly percolated onto the old brain-dar; Here are a few listed simply in terms of dialectic distinctions: Subject/Object, Post Modern/ Modern, Ideal/Material, Determinism/Indeterminism (as it relates to Free Will and Evolutionary Theory; more specifically, as it relates to issues of causation, random chance, power dynamics, and intentional action in systems’ analysis). Finally, broad scope sweep: Social Construction Theory, Anarchism, Marxism, Phenomenology, Radical Constructivism, Nihilism, Feminist Philosophy (my  not-so-long distance love affair), and (ostensibly) pretty much every idea or school in philosophy that gets coded as  either Continental (which means its not analytic, so you know its juicy!), wishy-washy, relativistic, or fluffy-froo-froo-bullshit. That’s okay, sticks and stones, in my book! I dig it! Anyways, below are my three final term paper submissions. At some point, I should intend to add brief abstracts to each that are designed to spell out the context of debate , define technical vocabulary, and explain its contextual relevance to real world issues. (In really worthwhile philosophy papers, I think all that should clearly shine through on its own.) Alas, patience (mummsies, especially), its only my first semester. I have a LOT of improving to go, not the least of which is learning to develop imaginative and ‘compelling illustrations’ of more challenging or abstract points I am wanting to try and make AND learning how to gauge a ‘sensible scope’ for a thesis given page lengths and word count requirements. (For example, you don’t try and do an overhaul makeover to our modern understanding of the evolution of human theories of knowledge in 6,000 words or less. So, maybe my entire Science & Constructivism paper can serve as a ‘compelling illustration’ to motivate my last point). Anyways, here are the fruits of my first 5-months of graduate academic labor. (Its incomprehensible fun for my whole family!) ((You’re welcome, family!)). I like the first one the most (which should tell you what kind of grade I’m probably going to get on it)- largely, for political reasons (plus it’s the only with potty-mouth words).

P.S.  Disclaimer: Everything I write (and think or say, for that matter) is always a work in progress. As a general rule, no one should ever take anything I write (or say or think OR DO-especially ‘do’) seriously or literally (God knows, I don’t.)

P.S.S. This might turn your children into gays. No, I’m kidding.  Come on, people, I’m not that good of a writer. (yet.)


‘I’m a little doll, who has just been broken
falling off my mommy’s knees.
I’m a little doll, who has just been mended.
Now, won’t you tell me please:

Are my ears on straight? Is my nose in place?
Have I got a good expression on my face?
Are my blue eyes bright?

Do I look alright?

I’m getting scared.
I wish I could see in a mirror,
how I’ve been repaired

I’m worried so:
Will she love me?



Lullaby Lyrics


and  not writing and when so much is going on
get through this week and i got your
number ill call out
remedial speed dialing
FOOL scream POINT me down that ROAD side
Battery Intervention
possibly the worst feeling those damsicles dilapsilopsided brains
strewn all across the christmas pop corn stringing
me along
me alone
lights bright
blinder blinding beeswax
waning wobbling
a withering and a wasting away


parantely ap pertain
hoped you would have thought a lod
thot a lot how this was shar meeng
parentely ap pertain
Iowa miss grave in
eye was miss taking
miss taking lee dig miss grave in