All posts in culture

pooh piglet burn patriarchy to the ground

Election Day 2016, summed up before lunch

6:17 am, pre dawn chat with my 10-year-old

Psst. Good morning. I’m going to go vote. Do you want to come with me?

…… 

Ok. Let me rephrase, it would mean a lot if you came with me to vote today. And someday, I think it will mean a lot to you too.

(mmmpht) ok.

Honey, I’m already feeling a little weepy. This is a big deal and I want to share it with you. I’m probably going to be sobbing tonight when she wins, too.

What if she doesn’t win?

“…. I’m probably going to be sobbing then, too. That’s why we vote.” More

people of color are a global majority, not a minority

Minority = global majority

If you ever get a chance to blow an 8th grader’s mind, seize it.

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Gordie is wondering why The Huffington Post doesn't pay bloggers

Writers die of “exposure”

The Huffington Post, combing the web for trending pieces, curates a lot of solid content. Good stuff. Stuff I am willing to miss.

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Easy A hug MaryAnn

Give rejection the awkward hug it deserves

Think about the time we spend engaged in debate: pleading, proving or otherwise bargaining for ourselves and our perspectives. At work. At home. In the classroom. In our own minds. On social media, especially. Sometimes we offer a point of view rooted in our most cherished beliefs, our deepest convictions. More often, though, we might find ourselves frothily insisting that, yes, we are sure we refilled the goddamn printer paper.

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your fear is boring

Elizabeth Gilbert on creativity and fear

After Elizabeth Gilbert’s Cleveland appearance this winter as part of the Cuyahoga County Library Writer’s Center Stage series, I had pages of notes demanding full-on essay treatment.

That was November.

In the little notebook I carry in my purse, there are four scrawled pages crammed between cabinet measurements for our kitchen renovation and notes from an early morning school levy campaign meeting. No essay. No grand reflections. A few stolen moments documented from a folding chair.

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Facebook is the id of our culture...nothing but fear and impulse and immediate gratification. The id is unresponsive to the demands of reality. Just like Facebook.

pondering Freud on social media

watts and her red gloves

What d’ya do with your hands?

I open with the best kissing scene in all of John Hughes history. Better than Sixteen Candles [snooze]. Better than the passionless pecks in The Breakfast Club. Better than any Brat Pack liplock involving Andrew McCarthy. Is it the soundtrack? The juxtaposition of sex and oil pans? Is it the badassery of Mary Stuart Masterson as Watts? No matter. It’s a cocktail of PG-sexy awesomeness.

Behold…the Kissing Lesson from Some Kind of Wonderful.

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