Because it has become so easy to write anything and have it seen by countless individuals on one of the microblogging sites, diagnoses of graphomania—the pathological impulse to write—have bubbled up from critics and social commentary. But during the pandemic, we have noticed another, more benign impulse: the eye-watering compulsion to use charts and graphs to understand reality.
Now, in addition to its creative nomenclature, white paint has another thing going for it: it might just slow climate change.
What role does the conspiracy theory play in the way we understand the world?
Ticket prices won’t be the only way that space tourism will be expensive.
Why do we feel the urge to jump from high places?
On some level, this fetish of authenticity is difficult to fathom.
Because the billionaire race to space has cheapened space—ironically, considering how much money has been spent. It has taken something few have experienced and made it gimmicky.
But I was swimming against the tide. For everyone else, working from home meant still wearing lipstick but in you-but-better lip shades (plus a Zoom filter). I stayed as bright as ever.
If healing lives in language, how do we parse curative words from this tangle of collective trauma—from any trauma? What is there to say in the face of so much sorrow?