This isn’t a book you finish so much as one that finishes with you and whatever’s left unresolved afterward is the point.
This isn’t a book you finish so much as one that finishes with you and whatever’s left unresolved afterward is the point.
I don’t listen to You Are Safe From God Here to feel better, I listen to it because it understands why I don’t.
Vermis doesn’t insist on meaning. It creates the conditions for it, then steps aside.
Die My Love exists in that awkward half-space between looking good and actually being good.
I dare you to find anything in your life that you love with even half the obsessive, granular devotion Warren Zanes brings to Nebraska.
It’s fun. It’s exhausting. And if that contradiction bothers you, congratulations: you’ve finally understood tech death.
The popularity of Taylor Swift, stratospheric, omnipresent, and somehow still expanding, rests on a principle she no longer seems to understand or care about: what she doesn’t say matters infinitely more than what she does.
Where I tell you whether your parents were right to tell you not to watch it (because they obviously never did).
You don’t just read Pynchon. You enter a hall of mirrors built by a man who refuses to show his face even when it’s "supposed" to be easy.
