Anonymous telling Westboro to chill out.
Laura's cool Field Guide to one of my favorite prose writers, Blake Butler.
OMG. I missed the Word on Wayne White. But I'M HERE NOW. This dude is a stellar artist.
This is from the next book on my To-Buy List: Methland by Nick Reding.
On a cold winter night, Roland Jarvis looked out the window of his mother’s house and saw that the Oelwein police had hung live human heads in the trees of the yard. Jarvis knew the police did this when they meant to spy on people suspected of being meth cooks. The heads were informants, placed like demonic ornaments to look in the windows and through the walls. As Jarvis studied them, they mumbled and squinted hard to see what was inside the house. Then the heads—satisfied that Jarvis was in fact cooking meth in the basement—conveyed the message to a black helicopter hovering over the house. The whoosh of the blades was hushed and all but inaudible, so Jarvis didn’t notice the helicopter until he saw the heads tilt back on their limbs and stare at the cold night sky. By then, Jarvis knew he had to hurry: once the helicopter sent coordinates to the cop shop, it would be only moments before they raided the house.Sam Harris with a Real Ideas piece on gun violence/laws.