Readings

At 36, I was diagnosed with a brain tumour while overworked in the unstable world of academia—sometimes when systems fail, they fail all at once.

I might be, in many ways, a different person now than when I signed up for Ashley Madison more than a decade ago. And yet, I can't escape reminders of the ways in which I may be very much the same.

Borders don’t really exist. They’re imaginary spaces, semi-porous membranes whose only power is collectively imbued by the citizens and governments they separate. They can also be opportunities.

When it comes to erotic work by female authors, users on critical online forums can have trouble separating artists from their art.

Talking with the Destroyer songwriter about his new album, Poison Season, how his writing evolved past "ranting in a notebook," and the uncertain state of aging indie-rockers.

The artist and author on trying to draw every single person he sees, the Taco Bell Drawing Club, and how many Ikea hot dogs he can eat.

Butter tarts are strangely modest in their excess, a two-dollar decadence. But like that Canadian myth of innocent blandness, a butter tart’s surface hides something much more complex.

Fighting for diversity in a genre mostly known for angry white men.