kate carraway
Twitter Selves
Twitter is uncomfortably easy. Like Sunday afternoons, like an unencumbered ego, anything at all can surge forward to fill the empty space, and everything will.
Riffing
Riffing is like mutual masturbation. It is essentially the small talk of anyone who, at some point in their adolescence, learned how to throw dice about their thing, whatever that may be, music or movies or whatever, instead of having regular...
TV Party!
Here are some select selections from the lineup of brand-new shows where the rubric for inclusion is about as sophisticated as “what I feel like” and, you know, what might turn out to be good.
The End of High-Low
By now, to say that highbrow and lowbrow—or high culture and low culture—form a false dichotomy is pretty, you know, obvs. Maybe we’ve felt it to be true for a while, that the idea of high and low as discrete and opposed units of whatever—of product or...
Friends
Friendship is a constantly self-renewing frontier of human relationships, a Wild West of emotional and temporal adventure times. The stuff of great friendships applies to kindergarteners sharing a snack as much as it does to Carl Reiner and Mel Brooks...
Bummer Obseshes
Obseshes aren’t always the happier, excitinger, positive-bright-sided things of life, you guys. Obseshes are also the bleakest, most-worst preoccupations, which are just as likely to dominate a subconscious/conscious/conscience as whatever it is you’re...
A Million Little Ones
Maybe more like a half-million medium-sized ones, in the spirit of springtime, or of pink-yellow-blue flower buds, or of the jillions of ice crystals and snowflakes that have us/me locked into this forever-April torment. Let’s do a million little ones...
Everyone's All About It
VICE very presciently did up a whole issue loosely themed around spring break (I wrote about “limited chaos,” which is going to solve your life if it needs solving) (probably), and my girls are all about it and are scrapping whatever nascent fashion...
Enough with the Psychodramas Already
My feelings are SOMETIMES a crystal unicorn locked in a curio cabinet that gets dusted monthly. I mean, in one most-of-the-time sense, I’m high-functioning; in another sense, in the sense we will now discuss, I’m made of glass. (SOMETIMES!) It’s fine.
Feminist Fatigue
Feminist fatigue, the kind of philosophical sleepiness that sweeps through me/you/everyone when there is too much to say no to and is something I have felt for years and years, in waves. Not nice warm ocean waves like in Florida but, like, 'The French...
The Relative Transgressions of 'Girls'
The discussion around Lena Dunham’s body (her body!) last week after an episode of 'Girls' where she spends a couple of days having sex with Patrick Wilson—who I find creepy and unappealing but who the Man Internet decided was waaaay too hot for Dunham...
Obseshes ≠ Endorsements
So when I say I’m obseshed with the just announced mini Black Flag re-re-reunion, I mean that I am interested in the way that an academic is interested when a Google Alert pops up about something tangentially related to his research but isn’t like...