Brought to you this week by Gilmore Girls on Netflix. It’s fascinating; I missed it during its original run and I think my excuse for not watching women talking loud and fast for 45 minutes every week was something like it’s too fluffy and unrealistic, blah blah blah #smalltownlife. NOW, I’m nearing the end of season 4 and texting my friend every 10 minutes THIS IS TOO REAL PLEASE LORELEAI PLEASE WHY WON’T ANYONE LET YOU BE HAPPY. Did you know everyone hates Scott Patterson (Luke)? This hasn’t stopped me from shipping Luke/Lorelai like a house I’ve set on fire with my mind.
For The Rumpus this week, I wrote a roundup about the SCOTUS marriage equality decision last Friday. Worth checking out are the historians in the wake of this decision literally rewriting the history of same-sex relationships. Specifically, I came across a lot of essays right now that focus on why some cultures did or didn’t “okay” these unions into their laws and customs. (Short answer: they did! but we ignored it! because history!) I’ve included links to the most interesting essays at the Rumpus link.
IT’S EIGHT LINES. JUST READ IT.
Poetry is text, and we’re still very attached to the idea that language is supposed to communicate something clearly. But I do think all good poetry does communicate something clearly, it’s just that, for me—and there’s some narrative, very straightforward poetry that I really enjoy, but there’s a lot of poetry that I really enjoy because what it’s communicating to me very clearly is either an atmosphere, or a state of consciousness. A different degree of awake-ness to experience. And that can mean so many different things.
A long interview about poetry, the reading and writing and mechanics and teaching of it. It’s long, but if you know poetry well, it’s interesting to approach it from someone’s completely new point-of-view and think about this thing and how it looks in its broadest strokes.
All I want to know is if everyone else is really having a good time in our nation’s checkout lines. Because maybe that explains why none of you seem in any particular hurry to have your money or cards ready to go when your turn finally comes with the cashier.
I don’t get this, exactly, since it starts with an anecdote about David Foster Wallace despairing in a supermarket and how That Was a Sign He Was Unwell, but man, after the anecdote? The vitriol makes my heart sing. Bless The Awl.