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It wasn’t dangerous, this thing with Marty. I could choose not to do what he told me to do. I had my freedom. But I didn’t want it. I wanted no responsibility. It was a turn-on. All the research shows that libido is diminished by mental fatigue. The mental load. I could see it with Rachel. She was my younger sister, but she looked about ten years older than me, and we joked that she had no working memory. Dory, I called her. She and Greg never had sex.
I didn’t have children, and the mental load was still big. And in every relationship I’d ever been in, it had gotten bigger. I ended up taking their mental load too. Emails to answer, bills to pay, budgets, basic living. Christmas gifts and dinner arrangements. Everything had a password now. Every password had a one-time code. Choice was overwhelming. A woman in the suburb next to mine had been found in the foetal position, dead from an aneurysm, clutching internet service-provider plans
Björk in concert
The wind feels strange on his face. He hasn’t stepped outside in too long. He hesitates in the doorway. He really doesn’t have time for this. He needs to write that last chapter. He needs to finish what he has promised. What separates humans from everything else is our urge to create. He turns back towards his computer but then he is outside and locking the door and it feels like he has no agency over this. His body wants to go for a walk and so he must walk. He catches a glimpse of something bright poking up through the mulch at the base of a tree. A mushroom. Then suddenly they all come into focus. Mushrooms everywhere. Mushrooms on tree trunks like little shelves for fairy books, mushrooms in the mud and mushrooms in among the grass. There are even little net-like things around red stalks. Weird Cronenberg mushrooms, half fungus, half machine.
You will be seen now
I saw a fin- ger loosen the zipper,the bag’s tan exterior animated by teeth. Beneath knuckle-white shades, faces surfaced–witnesses in a waiting room. Pareidolia...
Trip Advisor review of a protest
Firstly, what’s with all the footwork? A downward slope would be an attribute. There’s enough gory fundamentalism without toe...
When the ships become water nymphs
Swans that are almost swans, sharp-tongued fruits, mocking sheep farmers whose faces grow woollen, dancers at the bush-doof manic to their...
Scrolling to the end
Our contemporary content malaise feels very recent, yet the twentieth-century media scholars Marshall McLuhan and Neil Postman predicted our technological capture decades before Mark Zuckerberg and his college roommates devised a neat way for their fellow Harvard students to connect online.
The years happen again and again
A work of autofiction, A Girl’s Story has two protagonists: Annie Duchesne, an innocent seventeen-year-old camp counsellor, and Annie Ernaux, an experienced woman in her seventies.
Social media’s swan song?
Social media is now so bad that when parents sue TikTok for the role they believe it played in their children’s deaths, it feels terrifyingly quotidian. These platforms are ruining our health, the planet and our diplomatic processes.
The fair-go fallacy
Running as an independent parliamentary candidate is like building a plane while flying it – there’s no party machine, no head office, no ready-made team. Everything rests on your shoulders, and more often than not, it comes down to one thing: money.
Working body
We are taught to fear visible improvement. We are taught, passively and explicitly, to be ashamed. It is bad to look strong and muscular: our figures should not have a noticeable presence; they should not occupy too much space.
wet flowers
names: zoloft. lyrica. cipramil. avanza. neulactil. quetiapine. cymbalta. because. because of it. depression. major depression. dysthymia. melancholia. intractable. medication-resistant. they’re called clamshells, those little plastic cavities. yet they never yield a pearl.
Certified flesh
To put it simply: the raw fascination with our own physicality – our bodily processes – is now a general cultural phenomenon. Reality is catching up to body horror, as human beings become uncanny to themselves.
