BY LISA MARIE BASILE
I'm Having A Friendship Affair - The Cut
"Our emotional orbits intersected in a thousand places every day but never exactly aligned. There was a space between us as we moved through life. Sometimes I think it is this space that allows us to stay married. Sometimes I think it is this space that makes me stay hungry for something else."
Sixteen Years In Academia Made Me An Asshole - Salon
"For hour after hour, I sat in front of strangers who made me feel either special, as though the job was mine, or alternatively, like an idiot. They asked me long and intricate questions meant to show off their own brilliance. Lots of peacocks in academia, lots. I applied year after year and never got a single offer."
A Room Of My Own: On Writing, Privilege, And The Assholery Of Artistry - The Establishment
"It is true that art is, to a certain extent, a privilege. I harness my life-long desire to write with the tools and materials gifted to me by paying for the two degrees that hang on my wall, receiving fellowships, private endowments, grants, work study, etc. (Though really, my student loan debt is such that basically the government owns those degrees)."
Our Incorruptible Dead Girls - The Awl
"The little girls pulled from the Seine were never identified, but that was never the point of publicly displaying them: They were a site for introspection, a jumbled mesh of mourning and vain superiority. They were a reminder of the dangers of city life; only in a city could two children be thrown into a river undetected and anonymous."
The Secret History of One Hundred Years of Solitude - Vanity Fair
"García Márquez struggled. He turned to screenwriting. He edited a glossy women’s magazine, La Familia, and another specializing in scandal and crime. He wrote copy for J. Walter Thompson. In the Zona Rosa—Mexico City’s Left Bank—he was known as surly and morose. And then his life changed. A literary agent in Barcelona had taken an interest in his work, and after a week of meetings in New York in 1965 she headed south to meet him."
Still Life With Body Dysmorphia - Femsplain
"I’d spend entire nights awake taking pictures of myself with a digital camera and then pick at every flaw: my nose, too pointy; my forehead, too high; my hair, too dry and frizzy; my face, lacking cheekbones, too pudgy at the jawline. But always, always, I’d come back to my hips and thighs. I hated nothing more than the flesh that curved over my hip bones and padded my thighs. There were days I’d skip class and lie under the covers, too afraid to look down at my body."
If You Hear Something Say Something, Or If You’re Not At The Table You’re On The Menu - Entropy
"Let me be clear: I believe it is my political and ethical responsibility to counter white supremacy explicitly and purposefully, in my creative work and in my teaching and in my cross-language practice and in my everyday conversations and movements through the world—and I don’t actually make much distinction among those realms, in practice or in poetics."
Repetitive Beats Prohibited - Cluster Mag
"But after years of political snafu, the law remained on the books, and while you’re less likely to hear talk of the Cabaret Law around town, the damage has been done. In the same Daily Note article, Andy Beta speculates that it wasn’t until the turn of the end of the 00s “that club culture slowly began to dig its way out from the rubble.” And with the recent spate of DIY venue closings that coincides with the proliferation of megaclubs like the 750-capacity Williamsburg techno temple Verboten, it appears that the city will continue to funnel dance music into large, consolidated spaces—where they can keep an eye on partygoers."