"jesus was a cross maker," judee sill
Today In History
‘Lorraine Hansberry’s drama, A Raisin in the Sun, opened at the Barrymore Theater in New York on this date March 11, 1959. This was the first play written by a Black woman to be performed on Broadway.’
ACTION - PHOTOGRAPHER KAIJA STRAUMANIS
Photographer Kaija Straumanis (flickr / etsy / society6) - “A literary translator and editor whose life consists of languages, books - lots of lots of books - and photography. Throw in a bit of dark humor and some Latvian culture and you’ve pretty much figured me all out.”
"I Chaperoned a Middle-School Valentine’s Day Dance," by bun b’s coloring book creator shea serrano.
as my friend amelia said, “this is the most joyful piece I know about and I can’t be anything other than in love with humanity.”
when i was 15 years old, i applied to a prestigious summer writing program, and during the interview one of three adults asked me “what would you call your autobiography?” (this is a terrible question.) “dave barry does 40,” i said. crickets. even THEN i knew they were wrong and that the joke was solid. the writing program did not accept me, but tonight, 16 years later, dave barry laughed at that joke. Here’s to the long game.
rachael sent me this and the url alone made me scream with delight! i have thought a lot about scout dressing up as a ham!
“Many years ago, reading “Harriet the Spy” for what was probably the ninth or tenth time, I realized that both novels contain meaningful scenes in which the protagonist dresses up as a foodstuff. (This may sound silly, but bear with me.) About halfway through her story, Harriet is cast, much to her chagrin, as an onion in her school’s Christmas extravaganza. At the end of “To Kill a Mockingbird,” Scout is conscripted to play the part of a ham in a Maycomb Halloween celebration. The distaste that Harriet and Scout have for these roles can be read as evidence not only of their discomfort with the idea of the traditionally feminine—soft shapes without hard edges—but also with the idea that existing in the world often requires the assumption of costumes, the displaying an inauthentic self, and even lying.
her that was better than a guy who sold ribs in a coke place. She
didn’t understand the joke and I didn’t understand why she left me.
I watched TV for fifteen hours. During dusk and dawn, it was mostly
news, a gray time illuminated by a gray light. My eye didn’t operate at
capacity, the pupil never quite knowing whether to open or close. The
constant hideous flickering light made my head throb. I decided to be
on the news. I dressed in dark clothing and walked in drizzling rain to
the ribs restaurant. Cold water ran into my collar and down my back.
I should have worn a hat. The waiter was working late. I stood in the
employee parking lot beside a dumpster that smelled of rotting meat.
I breathed through my mouth. The kitchen crew played loud music
as they cleaned up, the kind of raucous music I hated. The waiter left.
He walked by without seeing me and I stabbed him twice in the ribs.
Maybe now she’d get the joke"
"LOVE TRIANGLE, I didn’t understand why she left me," A story by Chris Offutt