These days, we relegate all the fun to the future, promising ourselves that when we can finally retire, we will play more, see our friends more, take our time, travel. Yet many of us are fast realizing that we may die before we get to retire.
The feathers, casually discarded, are not what troubles my conscience. But the quick and easy exploitation, grabbing a pretty thing for my own use, feels like a single instance in a long pattern—and it is one I know will continue.
Title card for one episode on Netflix We have a one-and-done attitude in our house with Netflix. We tend not to binge; we just want something to relax with for half an hour or so after dinner before going on with the night. That can be a challenge,…
The most powerful variable here is fear. The woman in Mankato may have been high on a substance that can cause erratic and violent behavior, but she seemed happy and absorbed in her own pleasure, and one look told the officers they did not have to worry about a concealed weapon.
Lear is too big to be contained—but so are greed, power, and despair. This production is not a cheesy attempt to “make relevant” by dreaming up cool costumes and picking a fun place and time.
A recent meme made by @aborteddreams “Welcome to whatever this is,” comedian Bo Burnham says, a few minutes into his new Netflix special. “It’s not gonna be a normal special, because there’s no audience and there’s no crew. It’s just me and my camera, and you and your…
A new name or new spelling, new avatar, new sexual orientation, new status, filtered photo—the self is a work in process. The most we did was try on crazy outfits, sweating in tiny dressing rooms and tossing stuff over the walls to each other. These kids try on whole identities.
Robert Capa and John Steinbeck, 1948, via Wikimedia Commons I received a link last week to a 60-page PDF booklet called “Wear Good Shoes: Advice from Magnum Photographers.” It is worth a look. Magnum is the photographers cooperative founded in 1947 by Robert Capa, Henri Cartier-Bresson, George…
Are we at the mercy of our machines, then? This is the crux, the reason I could not swat away this buzzing frustration. It feels helpless in a way that is bigger than the issue at hand.
Photo by artistmac, Wikimedia Commons. I had a piece to write, about the Mississippi. Flat shining basins, filled with river water made to slow its roll, lay on the other shore. I chose to write it because that stretch of river made me uneasy. Facing it, you know.