|Filed Under:||Society & Culture|
|Posts on Regator:||19222|
|Posts / Week:||51.5|
|Archived Since:||December 31, 2010|
???? Even through the blinds, to eyes without contact lenses, the world was newly brightened all around—not inherently bright, with dawn still under the pall of the gentle storm, but evenly bright, the gray-blue light of the sky shining back from the roofs and the balcony rails and the parked cars. The snow traced the […]
The Awl was born of the following thoughts: What if there were a website with a wealth of resonant, weird, important, frightening and amusing bits of news and ideas? What if it weren’t so invested in giving you the “counterintuitive take” that it actually stopped making sense? What if were run by people who actually […]
And someone ordered a shitload of Trefoils.
I remember the first time I held my daughter’s hand. She was just minutes old, and I knew nothing about babies, so I was impressed to find that even a newborn could hold on. “Look, she’s holding my hand!” I exclaimed to myself, to the air, to anyone in the room. That she could cling […]
As the end rapidly approaches it seems as good a time as any to unburden myself of some of the ideas that I’ve wanted to see on the site but that for one reason or another never came to fruition. Shortly before he bolted Choire Sicha delivered his own list of unwritten work and reading […]
While it has been nice to see the kind words said about this site since we announced its shuttering a couple of weeks ago I feel as though we have not gotten enough credit for some of the things we pioneered in this corner of the Internet over the years. I am specifically talking about […]
What, why, and how he got paid what he did.
Is it obnoxious to choose, as The Awl’s final morning selection, a song from a band for whom almost everyone under 40 has a depressing and inexplicable distaste? A song that is not even from that band’s widely acknowledged golden era? A song that begins with a minute-long saxophone solo? Is that obnoxious? Good morning. […]
?? A wide band of pale blue separated the sharp purple hills at the horizon from the frayed purple edge of the cloud sheet above. The hills stayed purple while the clouds became wrinkled and dimpled gray. Perfect clarity took over for a spell, but then the lid came down again, with murky tints of […]
Six months ago I quit Twitter. It happened in a moment that combined the deepest loathing (both self- and other-directed) and the brightest clarity, and I have not looked back since. Apart from the actual quitting of Twitter, the thing I am most proud of is not having written an essay about it, so I […]
Here’s music. Enjoy.
How does a young, successful actor become a relatively unknown director of most of the television you watch? And what's next?
The German version, obviously. (IT’S A METAPHOR).
Photo: Stefan Müller The indescribable Mark E. Smith, who was somehow 60, 60 and “only 60?” has died. Even the things that make sense don’t make sense anymore.
?? The broken toe was aching with the damp, like an old established wound. There was just enough rain to scatter individual rings over the surface of the puddles. Its departure time was pushed back in the forecast, from early to late afternoon. Cars rolled along balanced on the tires of their upside-down reflections. Things […]
???? The cold crept in and made it hard to leave the bedcovers. The first direct touch of sun, rounding the corner onto Broadway, was warm, though. Bare twigs made interference patterns against the louvers of the Claire Tow Theater. Floating slush textured the bright blue sky in a puddle.
??? The gaps between the clouds were soft and blurry overhead, but off to the east and west they were dramatic slashes of light. The openings became the main stuff of the heavens, a light blue now holding oval cumulus fused together in rows. Dry leaves, whole and curling, scraped and hopped along. A half-moon […]
?? Every trip outside, the rain was doing something different: pausing, pouring, leaking intermittently. There was no way to stay prepared for it. On the way back from the orthopedist’s stuffy office, the clouds were coming apart fast enough that the wet sidewalks gleamed blue. Even as open patches drifted up ahead over Broadway, though, […]
The once and future brilliance of food writing.