Reading

Chris Christie running for president! (Again!)
My spouse Robin and I start our morning by enjoying a well-balanced breakfast of cereal, a glass of milk, and a backup glass of milk. While we eat, I glance at our framed “LOVE WAITS!” purity pledges on the dining room wall, which we enforced until we’d been married for a year, just to be on the safe side. I still admire Robin’s impeccable cursive, which comes in handy every day.
I grab a russet potato out of our pantry and jam it into the engine compartment of my Ford Escape. Thank goodness I haven’t misplaced my alligator clips again, or else my battery wouldn’t start, and I’d be late for work. Today is already shaping up to be stressful, as the diorama my team has been working on for all of Q3 is finally due.
In college, I double-majored in my passions: Reading Interesting Books and Doodling. This landed me my dream job, a vague corporate thing where I was offered a $150K salary as soon as I whispered the words “bachelor’s degree” at a recruiter. My friend who went to trade school is super jealous.
A historic drought, floods, and a widening war with al-Shabab have displaced more than a million people this year.
The post Climate Change and Conflict Are Wreaking Havoc in Somalia appeared first on The Intercept.
“Why,” asks Katie Farris in the title poem of her new book’s opening poem, “write love poetry in a burning world?” Except that in her title there’s no question mark. And the poem that follows is not so much a revelation but a proposal, to the self, that the difficult work—the work of writing, reading, surviving, living in these times—is both self-evident and in regular need of restatement.
In a 1980 interview, C. L. R. James stated that he wanted to be remembered above all for his serious contributions to Marxism. In Making the Black Jacobins: C, L. R. James and the Drama of History, Rachel Douglas explores the many facets of the Trinidadian author and offers a fresh interpretation of his unique brand […]
WHITMAN: Are you the new person drawn toward me?
SWIFT: Saw you there and I thought, “Oh, my God, look at that face. You look like my next mistake.”
WHITMAN: To begin with, take warning, I am surely far different than what you suppose.
SWIFT: You’re the “kind of reckless that should send me running,” but I kinda know that I won’t get far.
WHITMAN: Do you suppose you will find in me your ideal?
SWIFT: I knew you were trouble when you walked in.
WHITMAN: Do you think it is so easy to have me become your lover?