Workbook: September, 2020
- September 30, 2020: Here's a true story you may not believe.
- September 29, 2020: I realize I'm becoming pedantic.
- September 28, 2020: Box of voices. It started early.
- September 27, 2020: Our chemistry professor taught an explosives class. Really.
- September 26, 2020: "Kay–YOU–oh–arrr: left-handed radio."
- September 25, 2020: I had a very underage teenage girlfriend who'd introduced herself to my radio voice.
- September 24, 2020: I took the Greyhound, most of the time.
- September 23, 2020: We had to hunt for the books.
- September 22, 2020: We thought we were "Structuralists"...
- September 21, 2020: Conversion came suddenly, although there'd been signs.
- September 20, 2020: Guitars in the lounge.
- September 19, 2020: We're told the University of Redlands will close our college because the University's accreditation is threatened.
- September 18, 2020: "Do you want to be in school right now?"
- September 17, 2020: "The people... united... will never be defeated!"
- September 16, 2020: On the Revelle College quad competing sectarian groups have sited their literature tables.
- September 15, 2020: The organizer of the first Anarchism study group I attend is Jorj...
- September 14, 2020: Anarchism is inevitable.
- September 13, 2020: I followed the reading where it led.
- September 12, 2020: Clickety clack clack clack.
- September 11, 2020: The girls' hands are clammy.
- September 10, 2020: It's like a Terry Gilliam movie.
- September 9, 2020: Then there is Fire in the Lake, and it all blows apart in an instant.
- September 8, 2020: I met three girls at Windansea.
- September 7, 2020: Why am I in the Model U.N.?
- September 6, 2020: From the beginning I'm contrarian.
- September 5, 2020: The silliness of solipsism.
- September 4, 2020: I'm on the school's small grassy lunch court watching a no-neck with a varsity letter belittle one of the special-ed kids.
- September 3, 2020: It's so fucking stupid they teach literature chronologically.
- September 2, 2020: It's Christmas, I'm fourteen or fifteen, when for the first time I replace evasion with confrontation.
- September 1, 2020: Change began to percolate when Nasty Debbie raved about Dostoevsky.