The Pest As Form

by Maru Pabón. As the maintenance of any given state of affairs depends largely on the ability to keep pests under control, animals are pulled into the category in relation to the processes of labor they disturb; the leaves they munch on, the shit they spread. If locusts troubled agrarian societies, it was because they devastated the production of goods around which the economy was centered.

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Scenes From a Failed State

by Caleb Brennan. “Tough guy, huh?” asks the officer. “You having fun?” goads his partner.  As his knee crushes the windpipe of his victim, his body language is stern and unfeeling, as if taking the position is some sort of burden. “He’s not responsive right now, bro!” one pedestrian says. “Check for a pulse,” says another. A cop with nothing to say turns away, expressing his indifference with his posture.

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“Murder Most Foul:” A Boomer Laureate’s Conspiracy Anthem

by A.M. Gittlitz. One Friday this March, you might have noticed a weird trending item about Bob Dylan releasing a nearly 20-minute new song about the JFK assassination. You might have listened to it for a few seconds and turned it off, or left it running and walked away to make coffee, returning to find one of his classics autoplaying.

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Who Dies?

by Nicolás Vargas. As little as a month ago, it was easier to feel a sense of revolutionary optimism than it is now. Multiple wildcat strikes paved the way to union victories, a presidential candidate who championed working class values was gaining momentum and winning delegates. Then, a pandemic struck.

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The Symbolic Narcotic: How Dystopias Hide From Themselves

by Tyler Wells Lynch. Good science-fiction doesn’t predict the future; it tweaks a feature of the present and extrapolates, obsessively. Ursula K. Le Guin likened extrapolative works of science fiction to the methods of a scientist feeding large doses of a food additive to lab mice “in order to predict what may happen to people who eat it in small quantities.”

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No Time for Malarkey

by Steven Monacelli. Whatever the reason for Biden’s “middle-ground” policies, one thing is clear: it’s no time to bide our time. Thousands die every year due to lack of health insurance, and we are only seconds from the midnight hour on the Doomsday Clock. It’s no time for Biden or his malarkey.

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