…at least, for myself. I have no illusions about the narcissism-fueled ADD conglomo-giant that is Twitter going down in flames because I have gone horribly MIA.
But for me, Twitter had to go.
Archive for the ‘Craft’ Category
Ending the era of the tweet
By Emily HomrokThursday, July 16th, 2009
The Paris Review spring 2009
By Jordan SchillingMonday, July 13th, 2009
The Paris Review’s recent spring 2009 issue features an amazing fiction peice entitiled At the Zoo, by Caitlin Horrocks. At the Zoo is centered around a young mother who takes a day off of work to supervise her father’s interaction with her son during a visit through the zoo. The mother doesn’t trust her [...]
She’s my favorite Canadian recluse
By Emily HomrokThursday, July 2nd, 2009
Emily Dickinson. Robert Frost. Allen Ginsberg. These are famous poets (not an oxymoron, for better or worse — I’ll leave that to the experts). But no one seems to have heard of Anne Carson.
And why should they have? After all, she’s notoriously — okay, maybe that’s stretching a bit, but at the very least, she’s, [...]
Yeah dude, Gatsby 2: Gatsby In Jail
By Emily HomrokThursday, June 4th, 2009
So the other night–
(I swear, this isn’t the beginning of a bad joke. Bear with.)
So the other night, myself and a friend of mine are watching the remake of Halloween. I should hope, as a film major, that I know a little bit about film, and this friend certainly does. So we’re complaining, a bit [...]
Heavenly Library
By Lydia SmithThursday, May 28th, 2009
The small, private Catholic institution I attended for high school is set back in the countryside of Virginia. Since those years were so precious to me, I love returning to Middleburg; to the rolling hills and through the quaint little town. Since moving to Philadelphia, Middleburg has been a touchstone for me. The country town, [...]
Fun places to go be a cliché
By Emily HomrokThursday, May 7th, 2009
Okay, we’ve all seen them: there they sit, compressed into the very deepest and darkest corners of Starbucks, corners just barely deep and dark enough to contain the black abysses of their tortured souls, pounding away, sweating through that woolly black turtleneck, on the keys of a Mac laptop, transforming their latest ex into the [...]
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