
An ongoing digital archive of 1,263 items (and counting) proving that I read, I saw, and I actually paid attention.




“If you do start crying at a bad time, say on a first date at the movies, you might be left with no choice but to go all in: Burst into tears, pretending it’s laughter, and pray it’s your lucky night—and that your date catches a hit of the leucine-enkephalin–induced high as the tears trickle down your face.”














“Once we see that authenticity is a positional good with its own self-radicalising dynamic, it becomes easier to understand a lot of what is going on in the culture. Most importantly, it helps us understand the motivation behind the distinction between authenticity and ‘authenticity,’ or between the genuine form and the fake version. And to repeat, it has nothing to do with co-optation or selling out: it is nothing more than the difference between a form of conspicuous behaviour where the uselessness of the activity remains implicit, and one where its function as a locus of status-seeking becomes cringe-inducingly explicit.”







“At some of the best dinner parties that I’ve gone to, the host has—after the initial sharing of cocktails—asked one question of everyone in the room that is answered over the course of dinner. The question can be something like, ‘Can you remember an art event that created an emotional, transformative reaction?’ Sharing a personal question opens up the group in a very beautiful way. You come away feeling like you’ve had your world view expanded.”









“But it is perhaps Andrew Berman’s understated contribution that is the highlight: a mysterious prism clad in white polycarbonate, the interior painted black, with only a small opening letting through a little light, but otherwise leaving the visitor in the dark. It creates a kind of confrontation with the self, an idea with a long religious tradition, and Monsignor Tighe explains that the chapels aim to induce transcendence as a way to create a shared experience for the faithful and non-believers alike. ‘Beauty and art, at their best, have the capacity to invite people to go in a little deeper, to break with what Cardinal Ravasi calls the scourge of superficiality,’ he says. ‘It creates a space for reflection, for silence, to get in touch with what’s happening in their own heart and we would believe that allows the person to be in contact with God, whether he or she believes in God.’”