The price of a taxi from the airport dwindles with each stride taken past the exit doors of the baggage hall and the stale, harried officers who guard them; those nabbed by touts at the outset pay top dollar for a limousine service that features no limousines, while the real bargains are to be found out beyond the terminal building where the air is coarse and mucky and the night slams up hot against your skin. You need a bit of guile to get there, though. My usual tactic is to chatter animatedly to no one on my mobile; I try and put on a real ensemble performance, all phatic fakery and apologetic grimaces to anyone who endeavours to catch my attention along the way. ‘Yabrince! ’ I yell into the void. ‘I’ve just arrived, bring the car round!’ Sometimes I pile on so much comradely slang in an effort to sound authentic that I get tangled up and trip over my words, momentarily confused by the silence at the other end of the phone.
Coming Home to the Counter-Revolution
State of Mind
Nothing to be afraid of | State of Mind
Anil K. Seth on the ties between our brains, bodies and consciousness.
Brother | State of Mind
Max Porter on an extraordinary therapy session with his brother.
A Mingling | State of Mind
Siri Hustvedt on contagious emotions.
Mistaken | State of Mind
Maru Ruefle on the complexity of names.
Threshold | State of Mind
Berry Lopez on the interplay between love and fear.
We are living through a period of pop-up populism, where each political movement redefines ‘the Many’ and ‘the People’, where we are always reconsidering who counts as an ‘insider’ or an ‘outsider’, where what it means to belong is never certain.
Notes on a Suicide
‘The problem was that, for the most part, it did not matter how widely broadcast your discontent was: no one cared.’
One Picture, A Thousand Words
‘I think they are not on the right path. It’s wrong. What they are doing is wrong.’