In which I recount the compelling story of the fly and my own failed attempt to unravel my thoughts on retirement.
An interlude in Cincinnati in which I write poetry, make art, pray to trees and finally sleep with an out lesbian.
2
In which Macron strong-arms the strong-armers in France, and we wait for the fall-out.
"I’d heard of laughable bra-burning, man-hating feminists, but I’d never heard someone name their enemy. That’s really the whole key to the racket. How…
Why the strike in Paris stinks. Plus lesbians make a comeback, gardening pays off, and women in Iran dance for freedom.
Sometimes, when I scurry past, I lift my head and look at them, the men. I see the melancholy beauty of their eyes. The false bravado of the slouching…
How in France, "politicians really are expected to do nothing. And if they get above themselves, and try to, the street will bring them to their knees…
What will it take? Dare I seize them?—The means of production from the tits to the tongue? Marx knew nothing of real machines, the dreaming ones which…
See all
Slow Boring
Slow Boring
Matthew Yglesias
The Free Press
The Free Press
Bari Weiss
Invisible Women
Invisible Women
Caroline Criado Perez
Freddie deBoer
Freddie deBoer
Freddie deBoer
Phillips’s Newsletter
Phillips P. OBrien

Kelly At Large