These art objects let me feel my own living form through the many shapes they had been pressed into.
It’s weird how hitting the ground doesn’t really hurt.
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Is it okay that he’s over here so often, hooking up my mum’s speakers and swirling his single malt Scotch? We all wonder, we never ask.
Whatever angle you look at it, one detail is incontrovertible: in the end, a man is going to be killed.
I see now that I’m synecdochic for every institution she’s felt pinched by, every older person she’s felt used by. She wants to summon what little power she has left and ruin.
The author of The Longing for Less on minimalism as an inherent judgment, the aesthetics of community, and why he’s hesitant to identify as a minimalist himself.
There was, I thought, a type of man who’d frequent a bathhouse. This turned out to be ignorance.
The author of Uncanny Valley on becoming the perfect consumer, digital surveillance, and why Mark Zuckerberg doesn't matter.
Talking to the author of Consider This about "dangerous writing," testing your story-telling instincts for emotional responses, and finding laughs in transcendent tragedy.
There’s only ever so much you can control at any job. You make the things you make as good as you can, at which point they are not really yours anymore, or anyway not yours to control.