Recently I purchased a twelve-dollar gray wig online and had it shipped to myself at Nicole's house, where I've been staying for the last three and a half weeks, because I was suddenly and inexplicably seized with the thought, "I should have a gray wig and film the ongoing adventures of best friends Joan Didion and Anna Wintour."
Whether you’re filling out your Tinder profile, making a listicle of books that everyone in their twenties should read, or inviting your favorite authors to a hypothetical dinner in The New York Times Book Review, you’re bound to find your token lady writer soulmate on this list.
As Director of The Society, it warms my heart to know that so many are dedicated to upholding the tradition of honest analog espionage. No computer program or data breach could possibly compete with the authentic satisfaction that accompanies a lovingly planted bug or the elegant jab of an umbrella-tip full of ricin.
Given that pundits like to go on about character, and how we used to have it and now we don’t, I thought it might be interesting to go back and look at some of the Sunday-school songs Americans were using to help children grow in “character” when we were -- supposedly -- better at it. What, exactly, can we learn from these songs?
If Tom Hiddleston were your boyfriend, the first time the two of you got high together, you’d get uncontrollable giggles and finally blurt, “We’re Hiddlestoned.” Then you’d have a terrible moment in which he stared blankly at you and you thought you’d ruined everything before he burst out laughing and said, “I adore you.”
Her impudence will only encourage the others!
Majesty, her continued existence is an affront to the high and noble bloodline of the Bloodriddle family, and to the high office with which your grandfrere entrusted me!