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Author Archives: Robert Langellier

Regular Stuff / Uncategorized

An Apolitical Meditation on Trees

Posted on May 20, 2017 by Robert Langellier • Leave a comment

In this political climate, it’s good to get our heads out of certain subjects and back into nature, where the unseen world of trees provide succor for the mind. Trees are beautiful, and immensely powerful, with the ability to either hold back erosion or to poison the soil. That is why we need to be … Continue reading →

Journalism

One for All

Posted on February 4, 2017 by Robert Langellier • Leave a comment

When I was in western France in May, I caught a ride with an anarchist out of La Rochelle. Populism had split Europe, and Trump was now splitting America. Allison and I were headed south toward Spain, trying to find somewhere warm. The man in the junker was white and Rastafari, a product of the … Continue reading →

Regular Stuff / Uncategorized

Going to Europe for awhile

Posted on April 17, 2016 by Robert Langellier • Leave a comment

I still go back to my parents’ house in Springfield, Illinois every time I move. Each time I go home my childhood room is fuller with the scraps and detritus that have fallen behind me. This bed I’m lying in, for example. A violin, a banjo, a few lamps, boxes of CDs, boxes of books, … Continue reading →

It’s time to meet my coworkers.
Journalism / Regular Stuff

It’s time to meet my coworkers.

Posted on October 7, 2015 by Robert Langellier • 1 Comment

I’ve been trucking for a year now, and so far all of my blog posts have been terribly obnoxious exaltations of the working class. I titled two different posts as “Lost in America.” I profiled a drug runner, a gang banger, an old man with regret, a young woman with determination. I made us look like … Continue reading →

There Are Worse Places to Die
Journalism

There Are Worse Places to Die

Posted on September 9, 2015 by Robert Langellier • 1 Comment

Sucks to be stuck in the desert, out in the sand dunes. Sucks that you don’t even have any drugs. You haven’t had any narcotics in, like, a while. Reflect on how you got here. A car. You hitchhiked. That’s right, you’re here on purpose. It’s hard to remember, because walking for four days in … Continue reading →

Dead Turtles
Regular Stuff

Dead Turtles

Posted on July 9, 2015 by Robert Langellier • Leave a comment

I left the purple-white dame’s rockets fields of upstate New York and settled the night in Austinburg, Ohio near Cleveland. The morning came and for the first time in Ohio local history the sun appeared in a blank sky. I rose and took a walk. Behind the tree line lay a meadow with a new … Continue reading →

Journalism / Regular Stuff

When the Brakeman Turns Away

Posted on May 25, 2015 by Robert Langellier • Leave a comment

Carrizo Mountain looms unmagnificently in the sunrise. Nothing else looms but absence. It’s beautiful in the way sad things are. I peed in the dirt parking lot that marks the entrance to Carrizozo, New Mexico, and put a shirt on. The town — or what’s left — is lined with poplars, elms, and mysterious painted burro … Continue reading →

Journalism

Murray, KY to Paducah, KY

Posted on April 12, 2015 by Robert Langellier • Leave a comment

“There were green lights, that’s the last thing I remember. I got a big scar on my head from the baseball bat. What really screwed me up…what screwed me over in county court was after, when I said, ‘Imma go get my piece, and Imma come back and shoot every one of you fuckers.’” Paul … Continue reading →

Regular Stuff

Ode to the South

Posted on January 18, 2015 by Robert Langellier • Leave a comment

We’re done with the Mexican olives, the cabbage palms and the chachalacas of Weslaco on the Mexican border, and now we’re heading east. The earth in south Texas is stripped and raw, red as blood, deep as sunset, bare as a wound. It is like skin clawed through to the flesh, sore and screaming hot … Continue reading →

Journalism

Lost in America Pts 3 & 4: Outtakes from the Bel-Aire

Posted on October 22, 2014 by Robert Langellier • Leave a comment

“Henry James Branlett, Jr.” Says it slowly, loudly, holding out his ID. Branlett’s one of the only black people at the Bel-Aire. He lives on the far end, away from everyone. That’s where everyone wants him. He’s a troublemaker. 50 years old, alone. No job, no social life. A bible. He keeps his room busy … Continue reading →

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