Peggy Noonan

This is LA. I want to see you bleed. I want to see that look in your eye—that glint, that glimmer. That moment when you knew you made it.

A running out of future that grapples for its past. Like the folds of a blackhole, I wanted something guttural and familiar and as structurally unsound as life.

a miscommunication between a journalist and two new age believers

mothership