We should rid our writing of this dreadful innocence.
“The Shapes of Grief”, Christina Sharpe for the Yale Review
Some other bangers from this essay:
There is something about the plane, its untethering space, between times and places, that allows me to meet so readily the many gifts of the book—among them language and memory.
They know what they want, but they do not know what they are incubating.
You might have wondered if we’d reached the End of Pants.
“Why Are Pants So Big (Again)?”, Jonah Weiner for the New York Times
Submitted by Wesley, with the comment “i'm not really sure if this is perfect or not, since i feel like it hits better in context, i mostly just enjoy that clowning on francis fukuyama is widespread enough now that it shows up in random NYT fashion articles as a sort of subtly snarky aside.”
The curious coupling of malaise and satisfaction operates at full effect.
“Space and the Mode of Production”, Henri Lefebrve (in State, Space, World: Selected Essays, translated by Gerald Moore, Neil Brenner, and Stuart Elden)
Reading this essay I thought a bit about how what Kyle Chayka was trying to get at with Airspace back in the day was basically an extension of Lefebvre’s whole deal with the sociology of space. Chayka just sort of avoided the overt Marxist angle.
bro they're playing your leitmotif pizzicato.
lillian melody boyd on Bluesky
Pyle, who appeared not only professionally but personally incensed by the fact of the lawsuit, wore cufflinks.
“How a Scientific Dispute Spiralled into a Defamation Lawsuit”, Gideon Lewis-Krauss for The New Yorker
in place of all this, stretching away in squalid and ferocious geometry, with neatly squared walls and terraces all at the same inclination, stands a carnation plantation
The Road to San Giovanni, Italo Calvino
Submitted by Dave, admittedly somewhat out of the standard practice of this newsletter as it is in fact an excerpt from a paragraph-long sentence (Calvino, baby). Comment from Dave: “Honestly the whole thing is perfect to me, but appreciate not terribly friendly to the format!”
The full sentence, for your consideration:
Our property ended at the piazza with the church of San Giovanni (where they hoisted the Cockaigne pole every twenty-fourth of June and the town band would play), then began again on the other side after a stretch of mule track, taking in a whole small valley which had a plantation of palms for funeral wreaths at the bottom, then fruit and greens further up, with a farmhouse known as Cason Bianco (where we kept sheep for a while), and a spring hidden amongst rocks green with maidenhair fern, and a limestone cavern, and a rock cave, and a fish pond, and other wonders, which were no longer wonders for me but have once again become so, now that in place of all this, stretching away in squalid and ferocious geometry, with neatly squared walls and terraces all at the same inclination, stands a carnation plantation—grey expanse of stalks in a grid of poles and wires, opaque glass of greenhouses, cylindrical cement tanks—and everything that once was is gone, everything that seemed to be there but was already only an illusion, an unaccountable stay of execution.
Think of this as the most luxurious Hamburger Helper you’ve ever had.
Recipe for Homemade Hamburger Helper by Priya Krishna for NYT Cooking
Via John Darnielle on Bluesky.
Notably, the AI did not reduce belief in true conspiracies.
“Durably reducing conspiracy beliefs through dialogues with AI”, Thomas H. Costello, Gordon Pennycook, and David G. Rand for Science
Submitted by Justin.