But you probably missed the sale on Maine coon cat calendars from at Down East Magazine.
This cat is basically the feline equivalent of one of those women who can have orgasms without even being touched. He has rub-face but there isn’t a hand in sight.
“Morgenlied”
I saw a white dove in a tree.
The tree was white, the leaves were three.
These leaves, I noticed as I passed,
were shaped as bells of crimson glass
And azure glass and emerald glass:
I felt them tremble as I passed.
The dove stood in the tree alone
and in her beak she clutched a bone.
This was my love, I heard her cry,
I drank his blood and watched him die.
I drank his blood, the dove confessed,
because I loved him to excess.
Then as I passed my body thinned,
it lifted on a gust of wind,
And I was high above the hill,
the universe was white and still
And there was neither tree nor bird
and no bell struck and no leaf stirred.
Please check one: Yes Δ
No Δ
(Okay so that’s a Delta, not a box, but you can make it work.)
You know your life has taken a turn for the fucking weird when you spend your morning trying to contact Jenna Jameson…
So I’ve been in a low-grade shitty mood since Saturday night because of thought plagiarism, as a general concept (not going to elaborate), and then I went to go purchase tickets to a Hanukkah concert and found my spirits lightened by the sheer number of title options available to your average British consumer. (Some of these are certainly included only because it’s a Jewish event, but still.)
Baron
Baroness
Captain
Chazan
Chief Rabbi
Cllr
Colonel
Commander
Dame
Dayan
Dr
Dr & Mrs
General
His Honour
Judge
Lady
Lord
Lt. Cdr
Major
It just occurred to me that there may have been more options, but I didn’t scroll down. Curses! *waves fists at sky*
Hello everyone! It’s time for everyone’s favorite game: when ID solves in one word the problems think-piece writers have labored over for hours for probably $100 a pop. I know what you’re thinking: “ID, things are complicated! Life is full of gray areas! Sometimes issues require 1200 words eked from the pen of a beleaguered aspiring journalist!” But now listen to me: no. No, they don’t. Understand?
Let’s begin!
New York Times Magazine: What Is It About Adele?
Answer: She has a good voice
The Memo: Quitting Facebook Boosts Happiness and Stops Loneliness: Should We Cut Free From Social Media?
Answer: Yes.
Slate: Should We Trust Mark Zuckerberg and Priscilla Chan to Donate Their Money Wisely?
Answer: Yes.
The Guardian: Is Ironing a Thing of the Past?
Answer: No.
Vogue.com: Are We Addicted to Stories About Internet Addiction?
Answer: “Addicted?” No.
Refinery29: Can Paper Magazine’s New Paris Hilton Cover Break the Internet?
Answer: No.
The Atlantic: Why Are There So Many Data Centers in Iowa?
Subtitle: “Networks, land, power, and taxes.”
Answer: So, uh, yeah, you answered your own question. Thanks for saving me some time.
Electromagnetic hypersensitivity is the new Morgellon’s Disease. Go!
Some of you know that I am obsessed with handwriting. I am the acting President of the Graphophiles’ Association of Her Majesty’s Kingdom and Current and Former Colonies (my friend and erstwhile editor HS-D is the VP; we’re currently accepting applications for membership) and also the first writer to be represented by Handwriting for Hire, an agency service that provides distinctive handwriting for use in films, for cards, etc. In addition to liking my own handwriting, I very much enjoy deciphering the writing of others. Remember this book I have? Well, the woman who edited it had to figure out how to read each letter writer’s strange scrawl. I don’t remember where I learned that, but after I did, I immediately her and asked her how she got such a plum gig. Sadly, no response.
Well, two weeks ago or so, my friend LH and I decided to visit the Foundling Museum, which is housed in the old Foundling Hospital in Bloomsbury. We were interested in seeing the museum itself (did you know that on Sundays, average London residents could observe the orphans eating their lunch in silence?!) but mostly in checking out an exhibit called “The Fallen Woman,” on unwed Victorian mothers who applied to have their babies sent to the Hospital. The exhibition included, along with a number of fantastic prints of women throwing themselves off bridges, a few of the original applications made by said women, and it occurred to me that someone probably would have had to do that same job for this project. Why am I never around when these little jobs are being offered?! If you need your great-great-grandmother’s love letters to her lesbian mistress transcribed, by all means, reach out.
I was looking around Etsy (fucking sue me) for a gift the other day, and on the page that details the art categories, I noticed…
That’s a bowl, right? For weed? Is Etsy based in Portland, or is this the world we live in now? To be clear, I’m not upset about that, I just want to know so I am aware of what’s acceptable.
Last year, Eleanor Catton announced that she would set up a grant that would pay to let writers read. Unfortunately, you’re only eligible for this grant if you live in New Zealand. Not to lean on a colonialist crutch, but I live in Great Britain now, and we have the same queen, so am I eligible? I actually am going to go so far as to say nobody in the entire world would make better use of this time and money than I would. According to the website, applicants don’t need to fill out a form, but rather just “contact the grant administrators via email and explain who they are, what they would like to read, and why.” So here’s my application: I’m working on a book about religious conversion, right? So I started to read some Tolstoy. I thought, “I should read A Confession, and then move on my merry little way.” Three months later, and I’ve set up shop at the British Library with a stack of Tolstoy-related tomes next to me, including but not limited to J. C. Kenworthy’s A Pilgrimage to Tolstoy and a history of the Tolstoyan movement in Britain by Charlotte Allston. And this is only for one chapter of the project––imagine all the books I’ll need to write about, among other things, Karaite Judaism, Mirabehn, Jerusalem Syndrome, the digital caliphate, “inter-generational religious perpetuity,” the philo-Semitic yearnings of confessional poets, hipsid-ism, scientific studies based on the theories of William James, and so on. I JUST DON’T HAVE THESE KINDS OF FUNDS, ELEANOR!
I normally don’t get in a tizzy about things like this, but what the fuck is a MANSIZE tissue?
My sneezes are just as important and deserve just as money as a man’s, thankyouverymuch.
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