What brings me to this place, this pass? It’s four-fifteen in the afternoon on Charlotte...
What brings me to this place, this pass? It’s four-fifteen in the afternoon on Charlotte Street and I’m thinking of ordering a third bottle of white wine. On the table in front of me I have copies of two books: War Like a Wasp by Andrew Sinclair and Under Siege by Robert Hewison, both studies of…
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‘The anglophone world, we have to infer, has run out of words for its own feelings.’
Daisy Hildyard on the wisdom of scarecrows.
‘What is the read receipt for?’
Lillian Fishman on texting, power and the ethics of leaving a friend on read.
‘Like pretty much everyone who uses the internet, I have seen many terrible things that I did not search for and that I cannot unsee.’
Rosanna McLaughlin on what the internet thinks she wants.
‘I have a pathological addiction to the internet, which I indulge with the excuse of making art. It rarely translates to anything good and mostly leaves me overstimulated and afraid.’
Paul Dalla Rosa on excess and the internet.
‘rumors of bees on speedwell, / no oxidative stress just / effortless pollination’
Two poems by Sylvia Legris.
‘English football’s most precocious and precious talent is evaporating into the skies over Italy like the fading flares of a half-spent Roman candle.’
‘Did you know that a hundred-gram jar of Nescafe filled with 1p coins buys two packets of Benson and Hedges?’
‘My first sighting of Paul Gascoigne was in 1987, when he was playing for Newcastle.’
‘The antitheses had been there all along but in July 1990, after Gascoigne’s World Cup triumph, they were given a new formulation.’
