‘I began to question my assumptions about the nature of good and evil.’
The photograph on the facing page was taken on January 6, 1967 in the rotunda of Carabanchel prison in Madrid. I am on the left in the white Aran-knit jumper. With me are three Londoners, Jeff on my left and two others whose names have gone from my memory. The man crouching is Alfredo, an Argentinia…
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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.
‘Do they strike people as a strange couple? He does not know, does not care.’
Fiction by J.M. Coetzee.
‘My Czech family’s house stands on a geopolitical rift: it occupies a place the political storms sweep through, uprooting everything that is settled.’
An essay by Anna Parker.
‘There was very little I could do in life except get dressed, smoke the correct cigarettes.’
An extract from Nothing Special by Nicole Flattery.
‘Fus was twenty-five, he wasn’t a kid. What was he doing hanging out with fascists?’
An excerpt from What You Need From the Night. Translated from the French by Shaun Whiteside.
‘It’s terrible to be young, always randy; one needs material.’
An extract from Love, Leda by Mark Hyatt.
‘Each image contained a finely weighed contemplation of a given moment, in all its furious intensity.’
