millenials

  • FUNNY WOMEN #138: Male Millennial Needs a Job

    FUNNY WOMEN #138: Male Millennial Needs a Job

    I like to think I’m a unicorn. Your unicorn.

  • The Slow Fall of the Hot Heroine

    The Slow Fall of the Hot Heroine

    If nothing else, it’s the opinion of other women that encroaches on mine. Resemblances spark my joy; differences become character flaws.

  • The Last Book I Loved: Sheila Levine Is Dead and Living In New York

    The Last Book I Loved: Sheila Levine Is Dead and Living In New York

    But when my loneliness feels as vast—and capable of drowning me—as the sea, this book about self-destruction comforts me more than any self-help.

  • Music Magazines Are For Men Only?

    At the Atlantic, Spencer Kornhaber responds to the recent controversial quote by Condé Nast Chief Digital Editor that acquiring Pitchfork brings “a very passionate audience of Millennial males into our roster.” He discusses Ann Power’s argument that the notion that…

  • Too Much For Leopold Bloom to Keep Track Of

    Over at Guernica, Paul Stephens looks at the current state of “information overload,” and how it’s been explored in art from the avant-garde poetry of Lyn Hejinian to the conceptual writing of Kenneth Goldsmith, with additional commentary from Ezra Pound and…

  • Weekly Geekery

    A real nerd’s nerd. Nerd. Ceding moral decisions to driverless cars. (Warning: A video immediately plays when you click the link.) Your dead dog is a robot. How do you feel? There is no such thing as a millennial. There…

  • Angelheaded Hipsters Burning

    And we are, aren’t we, us fiftysomethings? We’re the pierced and tattooed, shorts-wearing, skunk-smoking, OxyContin-popping, neurotic dickheads who’ve presided over the commoditisation of the counterculture; we’re the ones who took the avant-garde and turned it into a successful rearguard action…

  • The Rumpus Review of Obvious Child

    The Rumpus Review of Obvious Child

    Obvious Child is sweetness, swaddled in a dirty joke. It’s the delicate pastel world of Wes Anderson, where characters are imperfect but want to get better. Where every asshole, in the end, has a really big heart.

  • Me-Focused Pop Music

    Psychologists, nonfiction writers, journalists, concerned parents, and probably Jonathan Franzen, are increasingly focused on critiquing this “me”-focused generation, or the “cult of self-esteem” that shelters and coddles kids and invites a dangerous amount of first-person-based thinking. And this inward focus…