The Shape of Things to Come

The cabin I was born in. I grew up in the sticks, on a tiny island in the Puget Sound. My parents moved there in the '70s as back-to-the-land hippies and built the log cabin my mom still lives in (I wrote about my late father here ). I had it easy with power and running water by the time I was born; my siblings had ten years without. But there are some funny things about the country, as illustrated all too well by an article entirely too close to home: The True Story of the Antifa Invasion of Forks, Washington . It's a long read, but I highly recommend it; while I don't know any of the people referenced, I feel like I could have. It's a good portrait of a world far outside the urban bubble.  Now, my town was actually closer to Port Townsend, a tourist metropolis of about 8,000 people that served as my bright, shining lights. Port Townsend probably has more artists per capita than anywhere in the state and has attracted hippies like my parents for decades, so it's qu