That was a year or so ago, and my first brush with what generative AI could do. Like many, I started using it for fun: planning trips, finding nineteenth century authors I could recommend to fantasy-loving students (a genre I don't read), and making a holiday card starring my dog, Harry. But as work piled up, I didn't have time for new toys, so now I use AI for work.
Timothy Morton is one of the authors leading the new wave of environmentalism. The British thinker, whose latest work is provocative and extremely personal, takes it as a point of fact that the destruction of the planet is in process. Admired by the singer Bjork and Hans Ulrich Obrist, the artistic director of the modernist London gallery Serpentine, Morton comes across as a punk creative, one who has kept up the fight against preconceived thinking.
His near-death experience followed a severe fall from a ladder: fractured ribs, internal bleeding, loss of consciousness before the ambulance arrived. "They told me afterwards it was close," he says, rubbing his palms together as though checking for dust that isn't there. "Very close." I ask him what he considers the most significant insight from the experience. He looks at his calloused hands for only a heartbeat before answering: "The essence of all is encounter and connection," he says. "Love means recognizing that the other should be exactly who they are-and wishing them well, genuinely and honestly."
Many of us take up running for bragging rights. Yes, it improves cardiovascular fitness and yes, it can help people reach health goals and lose weight, and contribute to better mental health and all of that good stuff. But it also allows you to be a little smug. Bonus smug points if you are fond of a run in the mornings.
Jay Electronica's exceptional skill as a rapper has afforded him a level of favor that no one else in the hip-hop sphere-with the exception of André 3000-would have received within the same span of time. Between 2007 and 2020, he generally remained in the public's good graces off the strength of one innovative introductory mixtape, impressive guest verses, and a handful of monumental loosies that featured existential musings, astronomical wonder, and clips from cult cinema.
Ojos del Salado rises more than twenty-two thousand feet above sea level, on Chile's northeastern border. It is the world's tallest volcano, towering over the world's highest desert: an ash-and-scree-covered behemoth that exceeds Elbrus, Kilimanjaro, and Denali in size, if not renown. Its name means "sources of the salty river," or, possibly, "eyes of salt," which is what the brackish lagoons on its lower reaches resemble when your brain is starved of oxygen.
I had been writing about wedding dresses for years when I bought my own. Because of my work, I thought I was prepared for shopping for my dream gown. A few aspects of my appointment surprised me, though, like the role of my consultant. When I bought my wedding dress, it felt like the culmination of years of anticipation, as I had spent a lot of time writing about other people's gowns. I bought my gown at my first and only appointment, surrounded by a few close family members as I said yes to the dress. The bridal appointment was largely seamless, but there were a few aspects of the experience I wish I had known about before walking into the boutique.
Griffiths's inquiry sparked widespread responses from women reflecting on relationships with professors, exposing the often unacknowledged power dynamics in such interactions.
As my father watched the news, his breath caught. A video of the inside of a prison cell was on the television. Tears streamed down his face. On one of the walls he could make out a poem, one he had written with his own hands.
