Feminist snark, 1915 style
i really wanna kiss you and be cute with you and fall asleep in your arms and go on stupid dates but i also sort of want to light you on fire and throw myself into traffic so idk
yess das right
In the 1990s the philosopher and Arts & Letters Daily editor Dennis Dutton ran an annual Bad Writing contest in order to highlight turgid academic prose. If the contest were still around, this passage from The American Political Science Review might be a winner:
For a body of n members, in which there exists a group large enough and willing to pass a motion, let the members vote randomly and declare the motion passed when the mth member has voted for it, where m “yes” votes are required for passage. Define as the pivot the member in the mth position and note that there are n! (read “n factorial,” that is 1 · 2 · … · n) such random orderings of n voters (that is, the permutations of a, b, · · · , n). Then define the power, p, of a member, i, thus: pi = ti/n!, where ti is the number of times i is pivot.
As New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof recently pointed out, this is the kind of writing that has estranged the reading public from academia. A generation ago, political scientists were public intellectuals. We wrote lucid prose. We spoke to the issues of the day. We advised President John F. Kennedy. But now all we care about is math, jargon and one another.
(Photo: (c) Steve Dunwell)
"Wa Dada Dang—WaDa dada Dang AY"
"Fuk tha Clergymen"
by Vincent Van Gogh
“And in the end, we were all just humans… drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness.”
— F. Scott Fitzgerald (via ceruleanlabyrinth)
you end up the worst artist in the past thousand years btw. You shouldn’t even know words like drunk.
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, circa 1900. “A mill street at night.”