Wargr — essays by Michael Wargr
The strange mercy of death
I was fifteen when death moved out of the distance and into the bed beside me, and it took years before I stopped seeing it as an enemy.
The whore of Babylon was always us
I thought religion was a trick for gullible people. Then the old stories started looking less like superstition and more like a report on the crowd, and on me.
The side effect of knowing yourself
The most confident people I have known never seem particularly interested in the question of how they look. That, it turns out, is the trick.
How we choose the slaughterhouse
You think you think for yourself. You don't. You follow, repeat, defend, and call the fence your own judgement.
How fear turns the good in us into corruption
Corruption rarely starts with a bad person. It starts with a good one who learns to use goodness as an alibi.