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Being human is about: what’s unobtainable today?
To recover from the grand wizard of empathy’s commencement speech, I have since camped at grocery stores, when I can afford them, awaiting the flotation device of my college degree’s supposed intellectual extenuation of the human gridlock.
Hopefully, I’ve ingested enough synthetic flavor to stop my heart real early. Or to maintain tinnitus for the length of a harassing phone call. If not, the only responsibility of the adult is to be their own Kevorkian.
Gosling has an understanding beyond the Franco. There’s a certain silence to his pose. I dig his tone, even if he’s sexy.
Not belonging feels more and more like banging a rough cookie on the counter these days. I would take pride in my crumbs, if I knew how. It’s good to be alive like a delinquent spaz.
and it is always okay to be cruel in the arts, whether people like him are in on it or not, because who cares, internet (hey internet, how do I take a selfie of my fucking concern for others?)
PS. I was part of an email the studio campaign in the early 2000s to openly mock the idea of a Dawn of the Dead remake, before remakes were a condition.
“Transgressive and immediate: you feel these stories shoot through and wrap around you.”
- Kyle F. Williams, Full Stop Magazine
“Lutz’s work is a marvel of the possibilities of language. Each of her sentences is an intricately crafted thing, deeply complex yet crystalline in its clarity . . . her command of each and every word remains supreme.” --Mira Braneck, The Paris Review Daily
"Worsted sees the undeniable unicorn of the American sentence sprout pearlescent, fractally chiseled wings and take flight like Pegasus over the letters landscape." --Big Bruiser Dope Boy