volume two
Palestine will be free.
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death on the treadmill tv
Rereading Teju Cole's 'Death in the Browser Tab'
ASHLEY ALLARD
It is a couple days after the anniversary of October 7 that I go to the gym. I go alone today. I go to the treadmills. It is three o’clock in the afternoon and the gym is mostly empty.
On the treadmill screen, a body of a Palestinian woman is being carried by three men, her pink dress trails along the floor, a child clutches at the hem. Headlines blare across the screen in violent yellow and red and then there are missiles flying and crashing and buildings crumbling to ruin. I haven’t seen a fully-intact Gazan building since viral coverage began. It is difficult to imagine that there were any to begin with.
kwei shun-yu
桂順禹
The Beauty of the Language
of the Missile
Adam van Graan
If a gun is whose end.
If carrying a gun is carrying an end.
Whose hands hold the most ends, the most houses with the most ends
Probably are somewhere in America, we know this, everybody is talking about it.
I mean the news delivers it to us as if on a missile,
But sometimes the missile is the news,
Sometimes the news explodes and kills 100 people.
That is the beauty of the language of the missile: everybody can read a dead body.
And after, everybody starts to talk in dead bodies.
That is the beauty of the war: it is so, so easy to translate
review
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The Iron Claw: “I used to be a brother.”
I’ve spent a lot of time recently pondering the relationship between ways of being that are, on the surface, coexisting. But, if we were to delve a little deeper, we would see that they are in fact, codependent. One cannot exist without the other. In The Iron Claw, we follow the Von Erich brothers, who have cultivated this unbreakable bond with one another that is bourn of abuse, both physically and emotionally. One might think their bond exists despite the abuse, but I argue that it exists because of it. But it didn’t have to. That is the true tragedy of The Iron Claw...
Mukisa Mujulizi
sophie smith
Thoughts on Driving
Skye Simpson
I’m twenty-five, and I’ve been thinking about everything lately. I can’t believe it’s May and I can’t believe I can drive a car. Every morning, I wake up with a sick, aching feeling in my stomach as I realise I have to do things. I lie in bed until the last minute I can when my alarm has finished ringing for the sixth time. Then I get up. I walk into the kitchen and start making myself and my roommate coffee. I unscrew the Bialetti and empty out the old coffee grounds from the day before, wash it, boil the water, pour the water into the base, scoop the grounds into the basket, and twist on the top. Then I put it on the stove and wait for the hot liquid to bubble out and spit at me until I take it off the heat...
Interview
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Interview +
Disconnecting Failure from your Worth:
An Interview with Body Lovin’
Series Founder, Bianca Rasmussen
Troye Alexander
A Night at Nkoli:
The Vogue Opera
Steff Malherbe
I left the Baxter theatre, after watching Nkoli: The Vogue Opera, exhausted. It was the kind of tiredness that comes from the use of all your senses, your emotions jolting up and down and repeatedly clapping and stomping your feet along to music; the kind of fatigue that comes from both laughing and crying hysterically within the space of a few hours. I did not quite know what to expect when I walked into the Baxter theatre, but it certainly was not what I was met with. S’bo Gyre, co-lyricist of the Opera with Philip Miller, described it best when they said, “Think if Hamilton and RuPaul’s Drag Race had a baby in South Africa. That’s Nkoli: The Vogue-Opera!”. The show is somehow a perfect concoction of drag, ballroom, archival multimedia, unbelievable choreography, a live orchestra, astonishing (and intentional) wardrobe choices and of course, opera…
Joanne Roodt
Review
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Mr & Mrs Smith:
Would You Still Love Me if I Was an International Super Spy?
By now, we should have all seen the original Mr. and Mrs. Smith, starring Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. In that story, we follow a married couple that spends six years unaware that their partner is a spy. Hard to believe, I know, but the charm of Angelina Jolie and her co-star whisks away any form of logic and replaces it with romance. And a Spicy Romance at that. Their dynamic is undeniably attractive to their counterpart and the audience, spurred on by the real-life affair initiated while filming this very movie. At this point you would have to ask yourself, what more could this story need?