Hey What’s that Rattling Sound?
More of a list than a post, more of a post than a list
Has social media rewired my brain, or is there something innate in me that must write things to understand them and then must have those things be seen to be real? Our brains were not designed for this level of instant, constant feedback, but our writing has always been both for ourselves and for others. Is this for you or for me? If I have something genuine and thoughtful I want to share but I craft it for the likes, is it still genuine and thoughtful?
How can I possibly leave New York? The lights and the art and the shows and the feeling of the subway moving under your feet when you’ve had two glasses of wine and a decent salad and earnest human connection and you’re on your way home to your books and your pillows and your friends across the river.
When the only place to find peace and quiet, to be outside amongst the violets and the dandelions, to smell spring and be alone is the cemetery, how can I possibly stay?
There is a collection of federal judges out here overturning FDA drug approvals, the science of which they cannot possibly understand, because what is science in the face of the opportunity to force our bodies to obey their whims. There are elected officials, people whom a majority of some other collection of people chose to put in power, fighting for their right to force children to undergo genital examinations before they are allowed to play sports with their friends. The highest court in the land is staffed by men who think that laws are for other people who reserve the right of patronage from Nazi artifact collecting billionaires while they argue that corporations are people, but those of us with uteruses are not.
We never should have let men think they can talk to god.
It was almost 90 degrees in Brooklyn this week, almost as concerning in the middle of April as our complete lack of winter was in January. And yet, of course, that concern was eclipsed entirely by a taste of my favorite season, slick salty sweet. In my head I’m already at the beach, on a blanket on the sand with my friends, wine and sunburns and the shiver sharp contrast of cold showers and hot skin. Summer and I are just a collection of sensations.
I just finished reading all of Jane Austen’s works in a row for the first time1. And what surprised me most is that most of them aren’t actually love stories. I knew this going in. I knew that though lines like “if I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more” singe you with their romance, they are byproducts of a different project, and yet I was still surprised. Henry really only thought about Catherine as a marriage partner when he realized she was interested in him. Fanny Price spends all of Mansfield Park gripped with unrequited love for her cousin Edmond, but when they finally do get together, it happens essentially off screen. Edward Ferrars isn’t even in most of Sense & Sensibility. I have no conclusions about this beyond my own surprise.
The Republican majority in the Missouri House of Representatives passed a budget this week to completely defund libraries. One of the greatest things humanity has ever created, a near universal acknowledgement that the importance of stories, the power of knowledge is so great it should be free. They want to defund libraries.
I have felt for one hundred years that the best way to relieve the enormous pressure I put on myself was to figure out how to meet the expectations that produced it, and I’m only just now starting to realize the best way to relieve that pressure is to step out from under it.
There is so much to be mad about, so much pain and fear and heartbreak in the world, and I couldn’t get my head around any of it this week. Every time I thought about this post I couldn’t get past the single word - mifepristone. It was like I was too tired for rage. Rageful things kept happening and I could look at them and know that they were infuriating, and even do something about them, but I couldn’t rise up and meet them. Sometimes you just can’t. So I made you this list and took some pictures of flowers instead.
I’ve read Persuasion, Pride & Prejudice, and Northanger Abbey before, the first two many, many times. But I hadn’t read the others, and I hadn’t read all 6 in a row before.