Those who take safety for granted disparage safety because it is, like so many other rights, one that has always been inalienable to them. They wrongly assume we all enjoy such luxury and are blindly seeking something even more extravagant. They assume that we should simply accept hate without wanting something better. They cannot see that what we seek is sanctuary. We want to breathe.
If you’ve been reading about the recent protests* at Yale University and found yourself thinking, “Why are these coddled Ivy League students getting their hyperliberal microaggression panties in a bunch over Halloween costumes?” I commend Connor Friedersdorf’s recent piece in the Atlantic, “The New Intolerance of Student Activism,” to you.
(Or maybe it does, in which case: fuck “strong community management.”)
SxSW canceled a panel on overcoming harassment in gaming because of harassment and threats of violence, because: of course they did. Then, they said this by way of explanation:
I am simultaneously so sad that my annual work meetup is over and I have to leave without getting to spend more time with my favorite people and without even having met some people who might have joined my Hall of Favorites*, and so excited to get back to my family, bed, and sea-level oxygen levels.
Goodness, tomorrow is Columbus Day? Usually I like to plan a really robust celebration, but unfortunately — or perhaps, appropriately — I’ll be traveling tomorrow. I was going to just fly from Newark to Chicago to Salt Lake City placidly, with my fellow knee-squishing, United Snack Box-eating Economy Class denizens, but in honor of the man and the holiday, I think I’ll just stay in Chicago, insist I am already in Salt Lake City, demand an unlimited supply of free cheesy popcorn from the Garrett’s stand in O’Hare, and cut off the ears of the staff there when they refuse. Just like Columbus! Huzzah, exploration.
Felix the Sheepdog — also known as Dumpledore, Noodlebutt, Gassy McPootsalot, or Felix P. Hoenikker, Attorney at Paw — recently celebrated his 12th birthday, for which he received and demolished a double cheeseburger (hold all the vegetable fixins’, please). It was the least we could do to acknowledge his continued ability to live, and also to stay on his good side.
I was browsing the archives of the inestimable Cheri Lucas Rowlands, and paused on this post of “found poetry” — poems made of unedited phrases from her unpublished draft posts. I’ve had poetry on the brain and thought I’d give it a whirl to see what could be learned, using her same rules.
Big Gulp Weevil
Which one of these seems like the better choice?
Option A: You have a great job, a great relationship, are happy and healthy, get to travel the world, and look adorable in hats. Also, you have really fantastic hair. You cherish all the wonderful things about your lucky, privileged existence. Oh, and you are fat. Like, fat fat.