No One Is Talking About This

by Patricia Lockwood

In contrast with her generation, which had spent most of its time online learning to code so that it could add crude butterfly animations to the backgrounds of its weblogs, the generation immediately following had spent most of its time online making incredibly bigoted jokes in order to laugh at the idiots who were stupid enough to think they meant it. Except after a while they did mean it, and then somehow at the end of it they were Nazis. Was this always how it happened?

The whole thing would make a spectacular gender-reveal party, come to think of it. The mom and dad could appear stripped and mud-smeared before their guests in lushest suburbia, and if the baby was a girl? Palm fronds. If it was a boy? The dad could shit himself and weep.

to live in a country where someone can say “the massacre” and you don’t have to ask which one.

No swifter way to bring down the supposed citizens of the free world than to transform them to a nation of ass-eaters!

the username henry higgins was an abuser.

“Men make these laws,” she told her mother, “and they also don’t know where a girl pees from.”