The book I most dreaded carrying around when I was a student (because of its heft), but which I now profess the most nostalgia for. It’s not so much a collection of plays and sonnets as it is a record of days past.
It is right that the murder of many people be mourned and lamented.
Even the best weapon is an unhappy tool.
What do they do, the singers, tale-writers, dancers, painters, shapers, makers?
Five principles for embracing uncertainty.
Where to give all your precious fucks.
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subscribeOn The Tombs of Atuan
On Two Cheers for Anarchism
Reading is the art of attention.
On Why We Fear AI
On Why We Fear AI
by China Miéville
by Ursula K. Le Guin
by James C. Scott
by Nina Allan
by Nina Allan