AMA with Kyle Coberly on Denver Devs

Some day you will grow up and learn to lie.
Just like your daddy did when he told you no one ever really dies.
I hope that I'm not there when you realize,
Those with their nose in the air will never look you in the eye.
And you will go toe to toe,
Like David and Goliath.
Who will be Goliath?
And will you throw the stone?
"I don't know, yeah, I don't know,"
Said the man with all of the answers.
If he don't have the answers, how will I ever know?
I knew an old man with nothing to do but wait.
He invited himself, and he still showed up late.
When it came to the end of the night he would always overstay.
But I never had a reason to complain 'til the
Day he stopped coming by and I missed his company.
And you will go toe to toe,
Like David and Goliath.
They will be Goliath,
And you will throw the stone.
"I don't know, yeah, I don't know,"
Said the man with all of the answers.
If he don't have the answers, how will I ever know?
And I don't care what you do with the little time everyone gets,
As long as you do the math,
Choose a path that will never hurt anyone else.
Although they'll hurt you, make them sure they've earned you.
They will not forget.
Some day I will find you and stop on by.
And you'll say, "How have you been?"
And I'll say, "I've been fine."
And we will both know that it's a lie.
Turns out what I figured out was I was wrong and you were right.
And you will go toe to toe,
Like David and Goliath.
They will be Goliath.
And you will throw the stone.
"I don't know, yeah, I don't know,"
Said the man with all of the answers.
If he don't have the answers, how will I ever know?
I hold out for consensus
Give the masses the benefit of the doubt
Insist the democratic process will bear this population out
I think my only fear of death is that it may not be the end
That we may be eternal beings and must do all of this again
Oh please Lord, let no such thing be true
Though I suspect that if I slink back to my enclosure
Safe and warm and adequately lit
Sufficiently plumbed and ventilated
Well, let's just say I would not shake a stick
And if pressed, I'll admit
I'm ecstatic about the enrichment programs
Implemented to extend our captive lifespans
I'm excited to see what our keepers have planned
Perhaps a bigger cage? Longer chains?
Some compelling, novel reasons to remain?
Dad are we gonna die?
Yes son, both you and I
But maybe not today
Boys, I've bowed to the keeper's whip for so damn long
I think the sad truth is this enclosure is where your old man belongs
But you, your hearts are pure
When the operant conditioners come to break you in
I'll sink my squandered teeth
You grab your little brother's hand, run like the wind
And if I'm not there, don't look back
Just go
I don't give a fuck about the enrichment programs
Implemented to extend our captive lifespans
Motherfucker gonna get a load of what I got planned

You’re organizing a literary dinner party. Which three writers, dead or alive, do you invite?

I have a lot of issues with this question. I realize the purpose of the hypothetical is to reflect some deeper insight into the subject’s aesthetic sensibility, but I can’t help but take it literally. First of all, I have several friends who have coincidentally written books, and some of these friends I haven’t seen in years. I would obviously prefer having dinner with three old friends as opposed to three famous strangers, regardless of how talented they were as writers. Over the past 20 years, I’ve often found myself in professional situations where I’ve had to have dinner with arbitrary collections of random authors, many of whom were nice and a few of whom are brilliant. Yet the experience itself is almost always uncomfortable. It seems like the first half of dinner involves everybody trying too hard to be overly complimentary to everyone else at the table, and then the second half of dinner is just people complaining about how they don’t sell enough books or make enough money. It never feels like a real conversation unless everyone at the table is drunk. Moreover, the fact that this proposed scenario involves the possibility of selecting guests who are “dead or alive” really forces my hand. It seems insane to pick any living person if dead people are eligible. There is no author alive who’s a fraction as compelling as any dead garbageman, and there’s no theoretical discussion about the craft of writing that would be half as interesting as asking “What was it like to die?” to someone who could respond authoritatively to that query. The only problem is that dead people might not understand what was going on, why they were suddenly alive, or why they were being forced to make conversation with some bozo at a weird dinner party. They might just sit there and scream for two hours. And even if they kept it together, I’m sure they’d be highly distracted. If I invite Edgar Allan Poe to dinner, it seems possible he’d spend the whole time expressing amazement over the restaurant’s air conditioning.

--

--

Educator, business dork, software developer. kylecoberly.com

Love podcasts or audiobooks? Learn on the go with our new app.

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store