Luke > Recent Status Updates

They demanded the impossible, the only thing that would save them from the systematic destruction of everything around them. They demanded the impossible, and that was the only thing they didn't obtain.

It is the early thirties. President Hoover has passed laws against migrants, particularly Mexicans, with the aim of easing the burden of the Great Depression of 1929 and, simultaneously, procuring the support of certain white communities in the country.

No Shikibu or Shōnagan? Skill issue, and certainly doesn't bode well for the rest of this.

In Pennsylvania, libraries are being closed and university appropriations are being cut so that prisons can be built

Sure hope Shirer doesn't keep up this running 'unemployed behavior' ad hominem commentary throughout the entire book, his argument's awfully emotional as is.

Overloading on the nonfic again, so of course the solution is to add yet another book in the form of a tried and true queer historical fiction writer to the stack, no?

Seeing the setup for the final denoument a mile away and man is it as languriously manipulative as the rest of this.

At bottom, the media is a multibillion dollar industry that serves the interests of the owners, investors, and stockholders, as in every other industry. So-called public interest is, at best, purely incidental.

[...]

In this context, reporters are mere products, purchased personalities packaged for the attainment merely of profit, and, as with any product, they are ultimately expendable.

The light, that strange light I am trying to describe, was falling softly but directly on the eucalyptus leaves and the colorful flowers of the bougainvillea to then filter weightlessly through the windows of the Registro Civil and, once inside, fall on the shining black hair and dark complexions, on the wooden floor and the uncomfortable chairs.

To the Duchess of Somerset belongs the credit of investigating the proper way of cooking guinea-pigs; but Lady Dorothy was one of the first to serve up a dish of these little creatures at luncheon in Charles Street.

Back on my bullshit of tracking the most popular/longest residents of my TBR, hoping the new names + older/wiser self will provide the structure without the pressure.

Although usually two hours long, today's yard lasts ten minutes, for fear those condemned to death by the state may perish, instead, by fate.

And on a chair at the edge of the room, death observed everything with its white face. Unmoving and white, black, violet, purple death. This is the opening scene of Human Mourning.

Local library that's not my workplace seeing me put holds on brand spanking new items: Just how is this chucklefuck rolling up so early?

Me: 👀

As we push off into the next thousand years, which I personally feel are going to be great, what is the fundamental voice we need to hear to start us on the journey? It is the voice of those, like the Zaapatistas, like Mumia, whose love outweighs their fear.

-Alice Walker, Foreword: We Are in this Place For a Reason

Sometimes it seems as if her creatures were born merely to give Jane Austen the supreme delight of slicing their heads off.

A 'Did Not Finish' shelf. Amazon working overtime to make users advertise its LLM slop at the expense of UI folks actually want even more I see.

"The novel had to justify its existence by telling a true story and preaching a sound moral." Many a loudmouth today, even amongst the young, would have us return to those times.

Didn't expect titfucking in my Nobel laureate lit, but more fool me.

I'm sorry, is this chucklefuck of an author trying to eurosplain the Armenian genocide?

Anyone else not seeing their shelves on the main page? Trying to figure out if GR is Mammonly shitting the bed, trying to avoid chasing the sunken cost rabbit.

...I longed for it before it was over.

I think I'm supposed to be sympathizing with this European-adjacent Muslim landlord, but all I'm witnessing is the sort of myopic mercantilism so adulated by stock market adherents that allowed this man to drag his wife into the public venue for the purposes of having her stoned to death.

Maria could overindulge if she wanted to. I'd take care of her.

She was a woman who absorbed great quantities of information to kill and memorialize inside herself.

Ayse reflected that it was hardly easy to be married to such a good man, because there was too much of a difference between "good" and "sensible," and a sensible man does not waste his time being considerate to tortoises and fallen wives.

To Hirschfeld's old associates, it was becoming a bitter inside joke to see which individuals who'd come to the institute to discuss their gay desires or gender dysphoria had embraced the far right.

Oh yeah, this latest giveaways pop up is totally going to convince me to participate, even though I haven't used the stock option 'Want to Read' shelf in almost a decade just to bork with GRAmazon's privacy invasions ever so slightly.

"I see no reason why the nations should sit in darkness because Anthony Comstock was horrified at the signt of his grandparents in copulation."

—Ezra Pound to James Joyce regarding Margeret C. Anderson serializing Ulysses in The Little Review. This is the first time the work would appear in print.

Oh come on Morgan, spare me this "narcissistic psychopath" horseshit, I'm trying to give you a fair shot.