- Beyond Belief: Trump, Treason & the Failure of Imagination
- Verse Comes to Worst: 9 Very Short Poems About Trump/Russia Collaborators
- Baby-Boom Benedict Arnold: The Six Emerging Villains of the Russia Story
- Against Active Measures: Take the Fight to the Russians
- After Comey: Will Democracy Die in Darkness?
- Trump White House Succession Planning: A Loyalty Day Thought Experiment
- Postcards from the Resistance, Vol. 8: Mother of All
- The Rosneft Commission: What We Should Be Looking For
- An Outsider’s Guide to the 2017 French Election
- How Deep is Your Treason? The Three Tiers of Trump/Russia
- Trump/Russia Has Entered the Third and Final Act
- Meet the Collaborators: A Rogue’s Gallery of Trumpromat
Support The Weeklings
- The 50 Greatest Superhero (and Villain) Names of All Time
- The 50 Greatest Literary Character Names of All Time
- The 50 Most Drug-Addled Albums in Music History
- The 50 Greatest Band Names of All Time
- The 50 Greatest Civil War Names
- The 50 Greatest Unrequited Love Stories Ever
- From Axl to Zappa: The 50 Greatest Musician Names of All Time (Side A)
- How to Get Rid of Donald Trump: An Action Plan
- The 50 Greatest Pro Football Names of All Time
- Song Beneath the Song: Led Zeppelin’s “Stairway to Heaven” as Tarot Card Reading
- Song Beneath the Song: “Casimir Pulaski Day” by Sufjan Stevens
- The 50 Greatest Writer Names of All Time
Category Archives: Sex
I had only recently discovered the glories of a naked body entwined with mine and, like every sex neophyte since time began, I had figured nothing would ever compare. I was wrong. Continue reading
Prince and I did not get off, so to speak, on the good foot. While he would ultimately influence me – both personally and musically – as much as Bowie or the Beatles (my Trinity), his presence initially challenged the most important friendship of my life. Then, it cemented that friendship, and led to funk n’ roll adventures alongside a superstar-in-exile named RuPaul.
Robert Burke Warren on going from acclaimed children’s entertainer Uncle Rock to novelist wrestling with how best to render the erotic realities of adulthood.
Bathroom fixtures, magical thinking, and cultural complicity.
Robert Burke Warren’s Yuletide of death, porn, and a hippie angel.
What to do when you’re 12 and a mysterious, beautiful, troubled woman moves in next door with her four-year-old? You babysit, of course! RBW offers some more summertime musical memoir.
Maybe The Sleepytime Bear is actually some sort of REM sleep vampire who feeds on the delta brainwaves of insomniacs, keeping them asleep long enough to feed, while their life force slowly ebbs away. On the astral plane, he flies out in darkness on great bat-like wings, scouring the countryside, the valleys and thoroughfares of the night echoing with his bloodthirsty cries.
At its height, the “Disco Sucks” movement drew fifty-nine thousand people to a Chicago stadium to watch a shock jock explode LPs, inciting a full-on riot of mostly white dudes. WTF? Our Robert Burke Warren, who became enamored of disco in the lusty confines of a Catholic school broom closet, writes about the music that arrived at the same time as his teens, and how it inspired him.
Writing about sex is like engaging in sex: it’s hard. Except when it’s not hard enough.