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Proprietary technologies and planned obsolescence collide to make data harder to extract once a file format is no longer supported, leading to a growing concern about the impact of this current “digital dark age.”
Losing yourself in a good book is a timeless way to manage uncertainty, unease, and being cooped up in a house with the family and roommates that you love so, so, so much, but seriously can you just turn down the volume on your video games please?
Honestly, I have spent most of this week avoiding the internet, going online just enough to stay abreast of COVID-19 developments.
There was kinda a lot of art news on the internet this week.
In Flourish, Malech's poems rarely alight anywhere near where they begin—often introducing unexpected themes into the fray.
The internet was a lot this week. Good, but a lot.
The internet was very nice this week.
David Foster Wallace was a jerk, Macaulay Culkin is not who you think he is, Jeanne Calment might not have been the oldest living person, Joshua Yaffa’s Russia is worth paying attention to, the power of Parasite, and more.
Libraries as places of possibility regardless of social class enabled Daniel to experience a larger world outside the one she lived in and imagine a variety of prospects that life might hold for her. That capacity drives her vision for the Pratt.
Highlights: Having a hobby, academy jerks, Meghan McCain’s tears, the pain of Oprah, the first drag queen was a former slave, Tressie McMillan Cottom, J.Lo and Shakira’s Super Bowl, Christine Sun Kim’s patriotic act, how we make homes, and Erykah Badu’s pussy.
Brexit finally happened, coronavirus is a global epidemic, apparently you don’t need witnesses (or evidence) in an impeachment trial, and I am highkey VERY concerned about PETA.
Some crazy shit punctuated a mostly boring week on the internet—but there were also some quiet hidden gems.
If there are any men who want to understand the way a woman’s mind and body works, kindly add these three books to your list.
Baltimore author Jeannie Vanasco’s recently published memoir, Things We Didn’t Talk About When I Was a Girl, dwells in the desire for a lived-out apology and underscores the nonlinearity of healing.
The Clifton House will be a hub for creatives across Baltimore to hone their craft through low- to no-cost programming, including writing workshops, arts programs, and history workshops.