Hey friends. It’s been a while. My apologies for my absence. It’s just that I was trapped in a spiral of self-loathing and couldn’t get up. It’s difficult to approach anything with a sense of curiosity and joy when you’re too busy hating yourself. And then, right as I was feeling like dipping my toe back into contentment, I done snapped a bone from walking in heeled boots, at which I was seemingly out of practice! Yes friends, just as I began to emerge from a seemingly two month long cascade of personal and familial mini-dramas, I done broke my ankle, which is one of the more boring and tasteless injuries. But judging from what’s going on in my friends’ and loved ones’ lives, I’m not the only one who seems to be caught in a loop of minor inconveniences, home repairs, family health scares, and disappointments. Not to mention the backdrop of the crumbling state of Amerikkka! With life only partly screwed on still, the bad stuff is just that much more pronounced.
(Also, when I hate everything, I find myself unable to consume anything except multiple consecutive hours of videos titled things like Gordon Ramsey is SHOCKED by PEPPERONI CALZONE and Fran Lebowitz on David Letterman compilation and Drag Race Reading Challenges deleted scenes. And lol, the note on my desktop reads: taste vis a vis worthlessness, trauma, resenting rich people, pain, agitation. For my newsletter called Delighter.)
Consider this the reset on the Delighter button: with some renewed energy, new batches of inspiration, and maybe some experimenting with new forms. There are always good things that glint with promise amidst the constant slog of circumstance, the meaning of which we should all know by now, but nevertheless still comes as a shock, that everything happens all at once.
P.S. I need fiction recommendations. Or any recommendations! The less zeitgeist-y the better. You know what I like. Love ya.
: :: : :: : : : : :: : :: : : : : :: : :: : : : : :: : :: : : : : :: : :: : : : : :: : :: : : : : :: : :: : : : : :: : :: : : : : :: : :: : : : : :: : ::
Studies on Twilight Phenomena, after Krakatoa (1888)
Public Domain Review is my new favorite thing — get into it! Let’s never go back to the bad part of the Internet!!!
On the 27th August 1883, on a small island in Indonesia, the eruption of the Krakatoa volcano peaked — the violent culmination of one of the deadliest and most destructive volcanic events in recorded history, the explosion of which was heard as far as 3000 miles away. In addition to the terrible devastation (36,000 deaths were attributed to the eruption) strange optical effects the world-over were reported, a result of the massive plume of ash and debris sent into the upper atmosphere.
[…]
Given the nature of the mystery — a scientific phenomenon expressing itself in such dramatic visuals — attempts to document and explain it often took the form of an interdisciplinary effort, both art and science working in tandem.
Queen ft. David Bowie, “Cool Cat”
This song just reminds me of the kind of thing I would play on my college radio show as a perfect transition between something old and something new.
Patricia Lockwood, No One Is Talking About This
That’s a description of the Internet, from one of the only writers I would trust with encapsulating it — as the portal this time, lower case. Patricia Lockwood wrote a book that reflects the ways that our thinking and comprehension and language have changed as a result of that pesky technology. The second half of the book contrasts the aimlessness that comes from spending all of your time reading other people’s thoughts, en masse, in a space that doesn’t tangibly exist, with something that requires acute focus: a child born with a terminal and difficult illness, the narrator’s niece. The narrator, who is Internet famous for a tweet that goes “can dogs be twins,” rises to the occasion to help her sister, finding purpose in helping care for the baby. The baby requires the narrator to be present in a world just as immersive and isolated as the virtual one: the endless wonder of decoding the coos and glances of a brand new being, in a highly specific situation that requires a whole new vocabulary, a complete reframing of life as she knows it. None of this is rendered in a fashion that resembles a traditional novel: it’s one mind skidding across slipstreams, the infinite and chaotic and pointless melting into the precious and singular; achingly finite. In the end there are no conclusions about what it all means. Rather, that this brand new mode of knowing is just another futile way, in a long, long line of feverish attempts, to understand that trying is the only pursuit. (And, like life itself, it’s really fucking funny.)
Getting together for a midday drink with your two bitchiest friends and going absolutely in on the Internet presence of the most peculiar mutual acquaintance you could think of — this is this podcast version of that. Hosts Lily Marotta and Steven Philips-Horst say they are attracted to the unintentional vulnerability expressed in C list celebrity memoirs — like the one that inspired it all by Teri Hatcher. In my favorite segment, they riff on what the subject of the week wears, eats, and lives with startling accuracy. I love them, I fear them, I would never let them see my apartment, or what I eat for dinner. Please listen to the Chasten Buttigieg one to start.
Just replace my intro this week with this essay by Haley Mlotek. Gorgeous, understated, longing, searching …
A delectable timeless time capsule of ennui that, in keeping with its own themes, was elided over the years — even to me, the person who knows everything about anything, ya dig. Toni Collette is Iris, a temp among fellow temps played by Parker Posey, Lisa Kudrow, and Alanna Eubach. The four form an early friendship, the bright spots in a dull place. Each woman has her own personal style that evokes a complex life beyond the office as opposed to an archetype: they repeat clothes, they have favored silhouettes, they take pride in what they wear because sometimes that’s the best part of the day. Eventually, though, the centrifugal force of the corporate workplace wears each of them down; someone is stealing in the office and everyone is suspicious of the stylish young women that have more hope than the rest of them. Paranoia sets in, and the group friendship all but dissolves; Iris becomes suspicious of the affable and idiosyncratic Margaret, Paula’s peculiar lies become apparent, and Jane visibly unravels. The audience is forced to endure the endless days of a boring desk job. Iris’ realization that inertia can be permanent gives her a spark of energy, though her innocence is gone. Iris wears red lipstick and sunglasses to mimic Margaret, the girl that taught her a certain way to be, for strength. The temps float out and away, and Iris is left to reshuffle again, make new sense of herself.
(but I see you),
Delighter