Welcome to The Truth Barrier

Welcome to The Truth Barrier. We're glad to have you. I've been dreaming about this place for years, and I'd like to explain what we plan to do here.

The name is borrowed, lovingly, from the Swedish poet Tomas Tranströmer. It is the title of his eighth book of poems, published in 1978 — "Sannings Barriaren" in Swedish. There is a poem in that collection called "Homewards," that goes like this:

The word that always stuns me when I read that poem is "glittered." Whatever it was that was communicated in this late night telephone call cast a glitter over a landscape that had been sterile for a long time, or so we assume.

I wanted to create a space in the midst of the Alienation Age where stories about and between people could be shared in a way that makes us want to live, again. I've asked various writers to forget everything they learned during the dying era of "media," and write what they really think, what they really feel, what they really see, in a spirit of timelessness.

I believe that if we don't start to re-shape our own myths, values, symbols, and standards of beauty, we will forfeit our last chance to have lived on our own terms. Communism and Capitalism both conspired, in the last century, to crush hope and beauty. Both, in their ways, declared war on the sacred — on the individual, with all of his or her quirks, hopes, languages, songs, and dreams.

Truth, like a cat, jumps at a particular moment, on its own terms, when nobody is looking. They've conditioned us to look steadfastly, in a collective trance, only at the "reality" created by their bubble-makers — by their industries, ideologies, mass beliefs, mass trivias, and mass fears.

I am honored to be joined by writers and friends whose work moves me and teaches me something. We'll be publishing poetry, fiction, essays, love stories, photography, original art, videos, and more.
We are delighted to have, in our first "issue," an original drawing from our friend Robert Crumb, who drew a portrait for us of somebody he admired greatly who recently left us. He also wrote a letter describing what this drawing meant to him. It is written by hand, in pencil.

I owe a tremendous debt of thanks to several people for patiently tolerating my technical illiteracy, and for designing and coding the site, as it changed and evolved, as I changed my mind about every snowflake, reindeer, line, shade, color, font. The design has undergone radical revisions these past few weeks, only to be changed back to the original homespun version, at the 11th hour.

(I want to pay all the people who contribute their time and works, so if you can offer a donation, however small, please do.)

I will be writing stories every week, on my obsessive themes of human magnificence, memory, nostalgia, family, ceremony, and something I refer to as The Promise.

Most things worth talking about happened a long time ago, and modern media, like a giant broom, sweeps away everything in the moment it happens, focusing on the "news" rather than that which is worth remembering.

The Truth Barrier, according to Tranströmer, is the place where the truth about ourselves clashes with the truth about the outside world. "He who notices what is happening cries despairingly, 'stop!…' "

We know how ugly the "world" is right about now. Lies and distortions lead to despair. But you can have your faith restored just by a simple encounter with a human being on the street or in an elevator.  All these tiny sparks that nobody is collecting--what people said and how they said it.

The medium is the message. The medium here is simply fireflies in a jar, brought inside by excited children, who think they see their futures lighting there, and who believe each spark is speaking directly to them.

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