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Wrecked Update 11.12.08

Great new issue for you to check out this week at
Wrecked.  From music reviews to post-election thoughts to a look at
life in the big city, we hope this week’s issue excites and challenges
you as you read.
Hope Is A Dangerous Thing by Karen Swank
I lost my candidate before the primaries were done, before I even got a
chance to vote for him. I had picked him out with great care and felt
deep certainty about my choice. By the time it was my turn to vote,
Huckabee was nothing close to a realistic possibility. His candidacy
was over almost before it started, and it made me sad.
I take myths in the sense of large-scale public stories that a culture,
institution or wider society tells about itself. They give its members
a sense of meaning and identity, making them feel good about

It seems ironic that Atlanta, GA based singer/songwriter Paul Reeves’
fourth album, Winter’s Over, is being released just before winter
starts (at least for this reviewer, who calls Canada, the great white
north, “home”). But it actually makes sense, in that this collection of
warm, comforting, and uplifting songs will be available for the most
depressing and dreary of seasons.

The ballots have all been counted. Confetti has rained down. Nearly 700
million has been spent by two candidates to persuade us. Promises
galore have been strewn about like garbage in the park. Hours of
commentary has ceased from being televised. All we are left with is an
election hangover.
I have a problem that seems to be accelerating yet again. My clothes
don’t fit, or at least my old ones wear poorly on my body. It isn’t a
fitting problem with my body getting larger or thinner but it is a
“fitting” problem where they don’t look correct on me.

Read more in Adventure…

Unlikely Orphans by Jamie Finch
For me, New York City had always had this unexplainable draw, as if it
held within it all of the answers to the questions that I didn’t even
know how to ask yet. And what I found upon making my spur of the moment move to come here
and begin to call this place my “home”, was that the draw my soul felt
so heavy upon it only intensified after I arrived.

Read more in Poverty…