Author: Jace Paul

  • Is there a place for poetry centered on the morose in the 2026? The world it seems is in a state of decay. We’re rapidly approaching the climate reckoning that will usher in plagues and famines, economic collapse and mass…

    Graveyard Poets
  • In a cinematic universe of unlikeable leads, there’s a special spot for Vincent Gallo’s Billy Brown. Buffalo ’66 is a 1998 romance-drama, working poor fringe film, arthouse black comedy, starring Vincent Gallo (who also wrote and directed) and Christina Ricci.…

    Buffalo ’66
  • I have a proclivity for ten-dollar words (which you could say renders me either a sesquipedalian or prone to grandiloquence). Hear me out: I love language and want to have a wide range of sounds and forms in my arsenal…

    Linguistic Limits: On the Loss of Verbiage Over Time
  • POET / NATURALIST / PHOTOGRAPHER

    JACE PAUL
  • Six years ago, Paul Schrodt (writing for GQ) lamented the fact that one of his favorite guilty pleasure films, the 1999 sports-drama Game Day starring the late Richard Lewis, was impossible to watch on any streaming platform. (I’m pleased to…

    The Curious Case of Cocoon: No, You Can’t Stream It All
  • Oh, the bane of “end of year” lists – the predilection of streaming behemoths like Spotify and social media staples Youtube, Reddit, and bottom-of-barrel Tiktok. It’s 2025 and life is virtual; an artificial artifice. I am a holdout for physical…

    My Favorite films on physical media (2025)
  • A few photos from a recent hike.

    Rêves d’hiver
  • Del Griffith and Jean-Paul Sartre make their way home for Thanksgiving.

    Planes, Trains, and Nausea
  • Recently, my daughter asked me if I believed in heaven. “Well,” I said, carefully choosing my words, “there’s very little evidence to suggest that life or consciousness persists after death. To date, no one who’s died has come back to…

    Live for Reason & Compassion: A Letter to My Daughter
  • I hear their screams in the cover of the night,the cursed and the damned;they don’t know who they are, where they are. They have forgotten all their names and places,shuffling down the corridor gaunt and blank;I am at home with…

    Mainesthai