June 11, 2023, 11:32 a.m.

Perfect Sentences, 24

Perfect Sentences

What the machine has is the exotic, uncanny allure of its authorship.

“AI Writing Proves the Author is Very Much Alive”, Connor Wroe Southard for Blood Knife

Submitted last week by Kelsey but I have been very bad at email the last few weeks and I missed it.


I’m sure you’ve all heard the big news: Baby Gronk rizzed up Livvy, and they started dating.

“Is Baby Gronk the New Drip King”, Today in Tabs

The entire Baby Gronk New Drip King meme feels like a sentence that someone would say in a dream and that’s how you’d realize you were in a dream and then you’d wake up, sweaty and horrified. Rusty did a perfect job with the “I’m sure you’ve all heard” preface.


It’s a serious office with expectations he doesn’t meet.

Titaniun Noir, Nick Harkaway

I listened to the audiobook so there are more sentences that I didn’t remember to write down, but recommend if you want a fun cyberpunk noir.


Everybody speculates about her strange proceedings, but those who spoke to her say she is not insane.

Lillian Alling: The Journey Home, Susan Smith-Josephy

Submitted by Wesley, who notes that the sentence appears in the book as a quote from anthropologist (and apparently, not especially great dude) Aleš Hrdlička. I will say if you Google Aleš Hrdlička to see a picture of him, this sentence becomes a lot more perfect insofar as you can picture Hrdlička saying it with a very serious expression.


All that math, glittering and shimmering back at us.

The Candy House, Jennifer Egan


Under heavy rains the lakes have turned to phosphorescent steel.

Vesper Flights, Helen Macdonald

This book of essays made an appearance last week; I read some more of it last night after doing a big post-smoke cleaning of my apartment. Some other bangers:

Further up the slope are leggy shrubs with flowers resembling bright plastic hair curlers: banksias, I think.

A few hours ago, I looked over a valley at sunset and knew nothing at all.

Everyone had lives and pasts of such luminous eccentricity that my notion of what was, and wasn’t, normal took a battering from which it’s never recovered.

The magic of the flocks is this simple switch between geometry and family.

During this sixth extinction we who may not have time to do anything else must write what we now can, to take stock.

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