★ Outside the window was near-blank fog, with only the vague outline of the apartment slab across the avenue showing.
If I don’t think about the implications too hard. Twitter Like twice a year I fantasize about buying a Roomba and then end up not going through with it.
Male Strippers and Norman Rockwell Photos by Brendan Lowe. “Anyone kill Trump today?” asked a customer as he stepped foot in Raw II, a local bar, during Friday’s ceremonies.
Who Among Us Could Possibly Say What’s Happening In The Sky? And should we be worried about it? Flickr I’m not sure what region you’re accessing this blog post from, but here in New York we’ve been having an unseasonably mild winter, with temperatures reaching the 60s as recently as a week and a half ago.
What to expect when you’re expecting to turn into Russia. Photo: Puno 3000 Want a sneak preview of what your country could be like after a few years of the new administration?
The Adventures of Liana Finck Liana Finck made it big in the art scene in the ’70s. She was demoralized after she realized that the art world was (gasp!
Choose your own adventure. Photo: bslax28 A couple of things happened this weekend. One was amazing and one was appalling.
★★★ The early sunbeams slipped briefly behind some cloud, then relented and shone full-on. The shattered glass of a door, still standing in the frame, glinted; so did the bulbs of an unlit strand of festive lights, and the coils of a hair tie lying curbside with the garbage.
We get requests. Photo: supershaggy What’s that? It’s rainy and dark and your soul feels low and you wish there were somewhere the anguish would go?
But feel so good. Photo: Amélien Bayle You may, for some reason, feel like swearing today. That makes you sincere.
And now he’s dead. Barrett in 2007. Image: David Shankbone Yesterday long-time New York City reporter Wayne Barrett died in Manhattan at the age of 71.
Friday reading roundup Flickr The incredible plot twist is that now these “capitalist investors” use feminism to sell us clothes!
Illustrations by Jason Novak Adam Bessie is a San Francisco-Bay Area based writer whose comics n’ cartoon collaborations have appeared in The Atlantic, The Boston Globe, The Nib (and more at adambessie.com).
Barack Obama and the stories he told. Image: Maria Morri If you’d written it up that a man, descended from slaves, the product of a single parent home and an heir of Chicago’s South Side, would not only graduate from that country’s preeminent institution of law, but become the first black editor of its preeminent publication; only to later harness the reigns of a senatorial seat, and ascend to its country’s highest elected position for dual terms, then that notion, your plot, would be deemed unlikely at best.
George Saunders, help me. Then a guy walks in with a megaphone. He’s not the smartest guy at the party, or the most experienced, or the most articulate.
You are not going to like the answer. Photo: Will Scullin A member of America’s youth has a plaintive, poignant query as one more Boomer president takes office.
From Everything Changes, the Awl’s newsletter. Subscribe here. My favorite human being is a tall, goofy man called James.
I don’t know what you thought was going to happen, but this is happening. Photo: verdienter Künstler I have no words that can console you at the moment.
Shhhh hhhhhh Flickr hhhhhh hhhhhh hhhhhh hhhhhh hhhhh hhhhh hhhhh hhhh hhhh hhhh hhh hhh hhh hh hh hh h h hhttps://medium.com/media/50b54c1ab1fff177f25453769a0eca3c/hrefhttps://medium.com/media/d7f435616dec957096406d24c03ed791/hrefhttps://medium.com/media/14dd880346ef78756e8af183941bae21/hrefhttps://medium.com/media/178a24ab8ec3a3cfee5eca07695ba155/hrefhttps://medium.com/media/42f98178f5e8f321266fe89a89847036/hrefhttps://medium.com/media/f1874d38dd24f289cc00f24b2fa353c0/hrefhttps://medium.com/media/14328a141c739cc6ca9463e93f5cfbeb/hrefhttps://medium.com/media/0fcc006bef10c09402b4ac7314210c0f/hrefhttps://medium.com/media/cab2b1596518e6db67e07d31dc1c02ce/hrefhttps://medium.com/media/6ef234f696ce0ecda1baf1e9cb06e97d/hrefhttps://medium.com/media/369944929c8681d1acdd0e02b85dec2c/href All of these are 8–11 hours long.
[No stars] Morning was still puddly, still gloomy, still blown with flying flecks of mist. After the mist stopped, things felt if anything worse, the dullness and dark and cold even lacking texture.