another banger from mrs leguin for those who insist on alleged depth. the trouble is that we have a bad habit, encouraged by pedants and sophisticates, of considering happiness as something rather stupid. only pain is intellectual, only evil interesting. this is the treason of the artist; a refusal to admit the banality of evil and the terrible boredom of pain.
the tswift bullshit may feel unbearable and unending but i need my fellow haters to remember the wise words of ursula ke le guin. the power of ms private jet pollution queen fandom seems inescapable, but so did the divine right of sherlock and the mcu. any human power can be resisted and changed by human beings. resistance and change often begin in art, and very often in our art, the art of words. commit to haterdom with all your heart and all your soul is what i'm saying.
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Tell Me I'm Worthless by Alison Rumfitt
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“women with their backs against a raging fire they escaped from” genre
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Babel by Rf Kuang will offend a very select crowd, and I will be here to watch them squirm.
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Laziness Does Not Exist by Devon Price
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The Regrets by Amy Bonnafffons
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Laziness Does Not Exist by Devon Price
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