“The Martist” is my coinage for the duality of the spirit of the martial and the aesthetic, a split, if you will, in interests within one human being. The artist preceded the pugilist, and the...
If a Levittown, New York cement stoop formed upon pre-fungicide infested potato fields could ever emit a sound, it most probably would be a “South of the border” purchased; “American Indian” rubber covered birch bark...
Introduction: As of the onset of this writing, I have experienced fifty-six winters in many a country, with many incomplete companions (some finally deceased). I have been lucky to have truly hunted game all my...
The Origin of a Species and The Mixed Martial Arts was a seven-year grapple, “Although one can never prove sincerity unto another, this is a work of non-fiction.” And, “All that is told here has...
My current coherency to tell of totally, sometimes tubular, true stories about a past that never existed within a realm as still so rightly remembered as a raw reality. Beneath me burrows were beheld and...
