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Write what matters, as well as possible, risking triteness, risking being labeled political, risking being under or overfunded, risking being imprisoned. The only weapon anyone really has against you is death. And that weapon, too, the older poets used to say, can be turned against an enemy.
By Judy HoganApril 1977“Free Kill.” Just imagine. Part of every citizen’s inalienable birthright the freedom to off one other soul.
By William GaitherApril 1977Except for a few independent strands, her soft white hair is pulled back from one of the gentlest faces ever to smile through a window. Her dress is plain, as comfortable as her worn blue tennis shoes, yet feminine.
By Judy BrattenApril 1977I’m happy to say that the three natural foods restaurants in the Triangle area, Wildflower Kitchen in Chapel Hill, Somethyme in Durham and Irregardless Cafe in Raleigh serve nutritional foods that are a treat instead of a treatment.
By Ralph MacklinApril 1977I went to a side show at the county fair. It was housed in a small trailer with a South Sea Island scene painted on the side. “Paradise on Earth,” the sign proclaimed. So I paid my quarter and went into a bare room with a table in the middle.
By Charles M. FrancumApril 1977I only believe that Spring is here when I’m able to gather and eat the delicious and nutritious wild greens that abound in our area. I’ve just eaten a salad that included two of my favorite plants.
By Leaf DiamantApril 1977“But man must live in his environment. So our solution is simple. We alter the digestive system, replace it with a treatment plant. Then anybody can eat cars, cement, you name it.”
By Karl GrossmanApril 1977If only I can hang in there until again I can find that terrible solitude that keeps company with the crags of unknownness. How those spaces scare me, but it is the only thing which even approaches satisfaction of integrity.
By Gayle GarrisonApril 1977I was hoping she might tell us, “Wilmington’s OK, nothing’s going to happen.” But, instead, she made that startling prediction. It was on the 5th of January, 1975, and she said within a year there’s going to be a major earthquake in the Wilmington region.
By Julia HardyApril 1977“Where do I write?” a good friend asked me. And when? And how? What are all the externals? He thought it might be helpful to others to know that I sit in a chair, near a window; that I eat and drink without limits, impulsively; that I like to look out at something natural.
By Judy HoganMarch 1977Personal, political, provocative writing delivered to your doorstep every month—without a single ad.
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