“Bird,” he cried, “I come on behalf of the emperor. Your voice is all anyone speaks of.”
On interrogating fear and what bats can teach about human connection.
The author discusses her new book, Stag Dance.
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“Bird,” he cried, “I come on behalf of the emperor. Your voice is all anyone speaks of.”
She stops to look into her mother's face. It is smooth and blank as a stone. Nothing emerges; nothing shifts.
The author discusses her new book, Stag Dance.
I worried I had broken the chatbot by trauma-dumping, and no one, human or machine, had the capacity to console me completely.
A perfect engine of meaningless data creation; an otherworldly space-place where people could depressurize and sometimes succumb to madness; good even when they were bad.
Beowulf Thorne's cooking column for people with AIDS claimed the right to pleasure, but in each recipe was embedded an urgent appeal.
Race-based data has been collected in North America as far back as 1790. But what happens if you don't fit the categories society is trying to nudge you into?
The author of Indelicacy on elitism, inspiration, and cleaning.
