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Omnivore

The movement resisting Donald Trump

From Vox, Julia Azari on a citizen's guide to panicking: An evidence-based approach to political panic; and for democracy to survive, it requires civic engagement. Anger rises across the country at GOP congressional town halls (and more and more). Today in Obamacare: liberals are taking back the term "death panels". The movement resisting Donald Trump has a name: The (local) Democratic Party. Republicans accuse protesters of organizing for political change. The "pussyhats" (and other things) make


Paper Trail

PEN America has announced most of their 2017 Literary Award winners. Helen Oyeyemi’s What Is Not Yours Is Not Yours won the Open Book Award, and Matthew Desmond’s Evicted: Poverty and Profit in the American City won for nonfiction. Winners of the other prizes will be announced at the end of March. The Los Angeles

Syllabi

Shock Waves: A Syllabus for the End Times

Fuck TheoryI'D LIKE TO START WITH A SIMPLE BUT EXPANSIVE ASSERTION: The fundamental epistemological problem of recent intellectual history has been the privileging of contradiction over contrariety. To put it

Daily Review

Living a Feminist Life

When asked "What made you a feminist?," I have to search my memory to locate some story that might be easily shared, and this is the one that at times has sounded good enough: I found feminism between the first two documents I came across that seemed to take the word

Interviews

John Darnielle

John Darnielle is a master of sympathetically depicting his characters, both in his music (he's the front man of the indie-folk band the Mountain Goats) and his novels, In both mediums, Darnielle renders his subjects—whether they are weirdos, sinners or some combination of the two—with tender empathy, His new novel, Universal Harvester, details the lives of Jeremy, a video-store clerk, and Stephanie, the schoolteacher he has a crush on.

Excerpt

The Officers' Club

Ludmilla Petrushevskaya

The first time I ran away I must have been seven, soon after the victory,In early June I spent several days in the wild, I didn't sleep in Strukovsky Garden: around there, all the usable spots had been defiled; through the cracks in the band shell I could see feces and mold.

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