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Anne Helen Petersen on Sunday’s episode of Mad Men, and fathers and daughters:

In real life, teenagers don’t have the emotional vocabulary to have intense and therapeutic heart-to-hearts with their parents. The acknowledgment thereof — the very refusal to make reconciliation into a dramatic set-piece — is part of what Mad Men gets so right about Sally.


Kate McKinnon talks about the origin of “Dyke and Fats”:

“We were both really tired one night,” McKinnon explains, “and I just said to Aidy, ‘Man, dyke is tired,’ and Aidy said, ‘Fats is tired, too.'”


Roxane Gay on the trouble with “women you should be reading now”:

There are, for example, no African-American women on the list. There are no Latinas or South-Asian writers. And at what point do we stop using Amy Tan and Louise Erdrich as the sole beacons of literary light for people who look like them? To be clear, these women (along with Zadie Smith, Chimamanda Adichie, Edwidge Danticat, and the rest of the women on the list) are writers you should be reading, but they are not the only ones and they shouldn’t be the only writers of color represented when these lists come out year after year.


On the protests over transgender admissions policies at Smith College:

“We no longer have a working relationship with admissions [officials], and they refuse to negotiate further, so we need to show them that a lot of people care about this and that we aren’t going away,” said Sarah Fraas, a member of Q&A who is organizing the demonstration. “I think if Smith sees that their image as a feminist institution and a welcoming place will be compromised by not changing the policy, that is something they will respond to.”

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The tragic tale of Mrs. Tea, Mr. Coffee’s companion who never really caught on:

“A lot of the people who drink tea are ladies. Tea to them is down time, soft time, relaxing time. This is an emotional product…that’s really how we’re pitching it.”


Lush, gorgeous photos of Parisian transwomen in the 1950s and 1960s:

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MST3K, the oral history!

Murphy: There was one submission called Demon Rugsuckers From Mars, or maybe just Rugsuckers From Mars. [Ed. note: It’s actually titled Over-Sexed Rugsuckers From Mars.] It’s about vacuum cleaners. And there was a scene with this dorky bearded fellow making graphic love to a vacuum cleaner. That was the one time I thought, what the hell am I doing with my life?


Questlove on how hip hop failed Black America:

There’s no folk-music food or New Wave fashion, once you get past food for thought and skinny ties. There’s no junkanoo architecture. The closest thing to a musical style that does double-duty as an overarching aesthetic is punk, and that doesn’t have the same strict racial coding. On the one hand, you can point to this as proof of hip-hop’s success. The concept travels. But where has it traveled? The danger is that it has drifted into oblivion. The music originally evolved to paint portraits of real people and handle real problems at close range — social contract, anyone? — but these days, hip-hop mainly rearranges symbolic freight on the black starliner. Containers on the container ship are taken from here to there — and never mind the fact that they may be empty containers. Keep on pushin’ and all that, but what are you pushing against?


Who wears what in your home? Claire Zulkey tells us about hers:

The pants: me

The shorts: husband

The disposable diaper: the baby

The cloth diaper: the dog


I decided to give you a little Middlemarch hiatus, but I would LOVE to get back to discussing My Life in Middlemarch on Monday, May 5th. Be there! Catch up here. We’re just going to discuss to the end of Ch. 3, because we mostly spaced on the first two chapters, but THAT WON’T HAPPEN THIS TIME.


David Brooks wants a man like Putin. Speaking of:

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