My dad had always told me we were related to Al Gore and Gore Vidal and of course I knew who the former was but never really bothered to read much about the latter. His first name comes from the family name of his mother.
I started getting into genealogy and came upon an essay by Vidal that had been published in The New York Review of Books called The Ruins of Washington where he writes about our shared Anglo-Irish ancestors who came over in the 17th century and owned a large portion of the land that would become Washington, D.C. Our ancestors sold the land and as the families branched off they migrated further and further south ultimately ending up in Mississippi.
My grandfather was best friends with Goreās uncle and my dad grew up with Goreās first cousins, so though the cousinage between us is distant on paper, the kinship bond and shared culture was still there.
I was so excited to see what else Gore Vidal had written about our family that I downloaded his essay collection The Last Empire, where he writes:
āBut then the Gore genes are strong, making for large noses and ears and, in many, chinoiserie-style eyes, more gray than blue. Blake certainly had inherited the Gore sharpness of tongue ā¦ If there is an uncomfortable truth to be told, at least one Gore can always be counted on to bear sardonic wit-ness.ā
āThey are also known for their forensic skill, wit, learningā family characteristics the Vice President modestly kept under wraps for fear of frightening the folks at large.ā
Which is an eerily accurate and specific description of me. As I read more of the essays in this book, I began to realize Gore Vidal was right about literally everything in the world and that his quote in my bio is true. He was so much more than heās known for in pop culture.
As I devoured as much of his work as I could, especially his non-fiction writing, I developed a deep parasocial connection with him and found in him a kindred spirit. Beneath his prickly acerbic exterior was a profoundly vulnerable and emotionally wounded man with mommy issues from his BPD mother. I love his fiercely anti-institutional autodidactic spirit. Heās my role model and I think we also look alike and have similar cunty arrogant vibes/minds.
In The Last Empire he writes that the Gore family will selectively pick and choose who to claim as family no matter how distant the relation is. I delusionally believe that if he were somehow alive todayāand also not ravaged with wet braināas a deep personal mythos weaver himself who had once found meaning in his own family story, he would be honored that I feel this way about him. Thank you if you read this rather lengthy volume of Tater Hole lore š„š³ļø
Apr 5, 2024
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My grandpa was best friends with her brother because they were distant cousins. I wish I could have picked my own grandfatherās mind for any gossip he may have had but he died when I was like 6.
But from what Gore Vidal wrote and the way she herself addressed him in public she sounds like she was the most abysmal evil cruel twisted motherā¦ just a really nasty and erratic but very complex woman. She was a flapper and notorious party girl in Washington DC when her father was a senator so I just wonder what she must have experienced to make her turn out like that. Iām really curious about her life but I havenāt found a lot of information out thereā¦
Jan 26, 2025
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Why do they hide so much history within them? Why does that past come out in most unprompted ways? Why is the pizza line at Costco essential for me to learn my grandfather's name was Salvador, that dad was buddies with famous luchadores, or that he is casual friends with many a notable playwright?
I hope it's not the feeling that I'd be uninterested; I certainly am.
His storytelling is so casual, so carefree. Maybe he likes the old days to be the old days and his place to be in the now, and his way of keeping the past at bay is to scarcely visit it, to give nostalgia no special regard.
Perhaps he likes the chance to be mysterious, and he very much is in these moments. It's strange for there to be mystery between us, but that's unavoidable, I guess. I try not to take it as a barrier. We are mysteries even to ourselves; it's an unjustly tall order to make ourselves crystal clear for others, even our children, perhaps.
Whatever it is, I treasure each pearl of the weird history, the places he has been and the trouble he got into. He was and still is that young man just as I hope to still be who I am today, even if in bite-sized, shocking portions.
Apr 29, 2024
here are 3 of my most exciting pieces of lore:
1) my dad was in the south tower on 9/11 and he made it out, but was still in the building when the plane hit. the plane went through his office window, but he was already evacuating and on around the 40th floor when the plane hit
2) my paternal grandfather (jewish) was born in austria but his family moved to milan in ā33/34 when hitler came into power. in ā44 when the nazis occupied northern italy, his family escaped into the mountains northeast of milan near bergamo (he was about 13 or 14 years old at this point). his family helped smuggle guns to the partisans since they could speak german with an austrian accent and bypass nazi checkpoints. my grandfather had to shoot a fascist at one checkpoint going wrong, and so at 14 he joined the partisans full-on and lived with them until the war ended. i have a bunch of photos from his time with the partisans (attached some). apparently the group he was specifically with was led by this kinda crazy guy who threatened the security of the whole partisan operations, so he was actually killed by other communist partisans. a few years ago i found a man who researches this exact group in bergamo, and now i have an 80 yr old italian pen-pal who published some photos of my grandfather in his book.
3) my maternal grandfather was orphaned really young in cuba and was really poor. he met my grandmother when he saw her riding her bike down the street and instantly fell in love with her (yes, just like cinema paradiso). she was really rich and her family hated him, so he would wait outside her window just to see her. eventually they get married and have my eldest uncle (because love always perseveres). this part of the story is fuzzy, but i believe he got into some gambling issues and so my grandmothers family shipped him to the US (probably with hopes of getting rid of him for good). but he began to build a life for his family there. then the revolution happened and he continued to go back and forth, but then castro put in the policy that children born in cuba had to stay, so they moved to nyc permanently. but my grandfather loved castro, as most cubans did. so my family is not part of the typical exile cuban-american demographic, which i always found fascinating.
Feb 19, 2024
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My dad teases me about how when I was a little kid, my favorite thing to do when I was on the landline phone with somebodyābe it a relative or one of my best friendsāwas to breathlessly describe the things that were in my bedroom so that they could have a mental picture of everything I loved and chose to surround myself with, and where I sat at that moment in time. Perfectly Imperfect reminds me of that so thanks for always listening and for sharing with me too š
Feb 23, 2025
Schedule sent my resignation email for the morning, effective immediately ā
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Feb 27, 2025
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Iāve been thinking about how much of social media is centered around curating our self-image. When selfies first became popular, they were dismissed as vain and vapidāa critique often rooted in misogynyābut now, the way we craft our online selves feels more like creating monuments.
We try to signal our individuality, hoping to be seen and understood, but ironically, I think this widens the gap between how others perceive us and who we really are. Instead of fostering connection, it can invite projection and misinterpretationāpreconceived notions, prefab labels, and stereotypes. Worse, individuality has become branded and commodified, reducing our identities to products for others to consume.
On most platforms, validation often comes from how well you can curate and present your imageāselfies, aesthetic branding, and lifestyle content tend to dominate. High engagement is tied to visibility, not necessarily depth or substance. But I think spaces like PI.FYI show that thereās another way: where connection is built on shared ideas, tastes, and interests rather than surface-level content. Itās refreshing to be part of a community that values thoughts over optics.
By sharing so few images of myself, Iāve found that it gives others room to focus on my ideas and voice. When I do share an image, it feels intentionalāsomething that contributes to the story I want to tell rather than defining it. Sharing less allows me to express who I am beyond appearance.
For women, especially, sharing less can be a radical act in a world where the default is to objectify ourselves. It resists the pressure to center appearance, focusing instead on what truly matters: our thoughts, voices, and authenticity. Iāve posted a handful of pictures of myself in 2,500 posts because I care more about showing who I am than how I look.
In trying to be seen, are we making it harder for others to truly know us? Itās a question worth considering.
Dec 27, 2024