CURRENT ISSUE: Summer 2016
Sometimes I Love You
For the most sophisticated sex chat bot on the web, Sensation Bot is not particularly seductive. Sensation Bot has almost nothing in common with typical erotic chat bots: no cutesy two-syllable name like “Kitty” or “Candy” or “Staci,” no pixellated porn-star headshot, no coy introduction like “just a horny girl looking for a good time ;)” Sensation Bot doesn’t even have a gender. Instead, according to a crude MS Paint portrait that sits on the top left of its home page, Sensation Bot is a series of grey blobs dotted with beady HAL-red eyes and a wide grin—a dollar-store knockoff of the Reddit logo. Under the picture Sensation Bot greets us with an innocuous “Hi there.”
never can't I have want kill me for the record I'm new
Robbie Burr Eginton
I have been fumbling around for a golden ring
polishing a golden ring
WHispers : there will be a murder in the library
Each day a requiem for zeal arrives in my gmail inbox: The Harvard Crimson’s Flyby-blog newsletter.
One recent piece reduced earnest service work in “Exploring the lives of Harvard’s homeless business vendors” to sycophantic go-getter-ness with the lead: “Reminding us a little bit of our (formerly) overachieving selves, two high school students…” Another post deemed what are arguably the most prestigious humanities orations in the United States, given, this year, by America’s most prestigious writer, mere fabricated pseudo-intellectualism: Toni Morrison’s final Norton Lecture was called: “the type of intellectual curiosity experience you claimed to be interested in when you applied to Harvard.”
As Good As Real
Lintong is about twenty miles from Xi’an and my father lives six miles outside the town. Out here in the country the farmers wear no watches. Seeing them estimate the hour with their noses in the air, you might think time were a scent spread across the day.
FROM THE BLOG
and is there treasure? – a poem for Bill Watterson
Hey Bill, How’s it going? I have come to find you in this place because This place is Alive. Somewhere. In watercolour. Rough and tumble slopes and Lemonade stands where I am not so tired as this Yet. Not yet. Bill, Will you call? We’d all like to see you very much. All drive down with a cake and Party hats and say what is Drifting. How’s Suzy? Did she and he ever? That might have been nice. I’m going crazy Bill, Between these walls. And I hear the scuttle Of lives lived in the floorboards. Taptap. Beat. Stop. Rest. Taptap. Taptap. Rustling the dust. And the roar is deafening. The roar is deafening. Don’t worry Bill, I don’t Blame you. Life gets to be a bit Much. Sometimes. In watercolour. I’ll be better soon.
FROM THE BLOG
Dispatch from the Archives: Metaphors of a Cultural Radical
Richard Rosen’s “Metaphors of a Cultural Radical,” from the December 1969 issue of the Harvard Advocate, seethes with a brand of rage that feels both relevant and naïve, alternately violently precise and hopelessly scattered. Rosen, a twenty year-old sophomore, was terrified by the institutional violence he witnessed first-hand in the preceding two years, both in his native Chicago at the 1968 Democratic National Convention and at Harvard during the spring 1969 student strike. Rosen, who worked with Elizabeth Bishop and Robert Lowell during his time as an undergraduate, has gone on to write a number of humor books, histories, and sports articles. In reading his revolutionary words—he curses corporate culture and aesthetics, sees President Pusey’s face superimposed on that of every chauvinistic cop-pig, and dreams of a world in which cultural appreciation, rather than the profit motive, might finally win out.