We are a public forum committed to collective reasoning and the imagination of a more just world. Join today to help us keep the discussion of ideas free and open to everyone, and enjoy member benefits like our quarterly books.
All of the tourists are driving strange small cars,
almost like bumper cars.
There’s this incredible space between you
and them, so hard you could only
crack it with a symphony
yet softer than mist.
Through the mist you can just make
out the inevitable chair and nothing
else which is inevitable.
Someone says Norman,
it’s just a fucking artifact.
Please, Norman, go around!
But Norman, who pretty
much lives in the gears,
like a paste, and prefers
them unclean, mossy,
can’t make up his mind.
Vital reading on politics, literature, and more in your inbox. Sign up for our Weekly Newsletter, Monthly Roundup, and event notifications.
Our well-being depends on a better understanding of how the logic of labor has twisted our relationship with pleasure.
“I was my father’s son. My father was Nai Nai’s least favorite.” A Taiwanese American man, driven from home by a secret, reevaluates his childhood memories of his grandmother.
MacArthur Genius Kelly Lytle Hernández makes the case for why U.S. history only makes sense when told as a binational story.