Get Smarter Everyday
When I was eighteen, I joined MENSA, because that’s exactly the kind of thing an eighteen-year-old who joins MENSA would do. I lasted a year. Long enough to confirm what I already suspected: MENSA is less of a genius society and more of a self-congratulation echo chamber where people who peaked in standardized testing gather to be impressed with themselves. It was weird.
[Read more…] about Confessions of an Underachieving High IQ Individual
There was always something illicit about walking into Spencer’s Gifts. Not “illegal” illicit—nobody was slinging black tar heroin behind the lava lamps. But illicit in that very specific suburban way, like sneaking a sip of Smirnoff Ice from your friend’s older brother’s mini-fridge or watching South Park with the volume so low it was practically subliminal messaging.
[Read more…] about Spencer’s Gifts Was the Mall’s Fever Dream—And We Loved It
Every neighborhood in the 90s had that kid. The one whose existence subtly reshaped your understanding of social class. For most of us, wealth wasn’t an abstract concept; it was tangible, like a pool in the backyard or a second story on a house. But then there was the Neo-Geo kid, and their wealth felt different. It wasn’t about having more—it was about living in a completely different dimension of existence.
Whatever you’re doing, just stop. Not because you’re doing it wrong, but because none of it matters for the next few moments. Whether you’re knitting, doomscrolling, arguing with a stranger on Reddit about Blade Runner 2049, or, I don’t know, curing cancer, none of it is relevant. Why? Because there’s a faint, creeping itch at the back of your eye. And it’s about to derail your entire existence.
physical beauty
There’s a certain kind of resignation you feel when you walk into a trap that you know is a trap, but you still convince yourself it might not be a trap. That was me, standing in an MGM casino with my girlfriend, trying to parse how $75 in free play could possibly be worth the spiritual extraction process that was clearly about to happen. But she was adamant: “They give it to you just for showing up. My friends did this. It’s not a big deal.” This is how I agreed to an event that, I would later realize, could double as a psychological case study on manipulation tactics.
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There are certain moments in life that don’t just make an impression—they leave a scar. And for anyone who walked into an arcade in the early ’90s, seeing Mortal Kombat for the first time was less about playing a game and more about realizing the world had changed overnight. It was like when Bob Dylan went electric or when someone played Nevermind on repeat and said, “You have to listen to this.” There was a palpable shift, and it smelled like stale nachos and quarters that had been in circulation since 1972.
History rarely gives us a clean hero. Most of the time, it’s messy—full of contradictions, compromise, and fear. But every now and then, you stumble across someone whose actions cut through the chaos like a lightning strike. August Landmesser is one of those rare figures, and what makes his story so compelling is how quiet yet defiant his resistance was. No guns. No speeches. Just one man standing still while the world around him surged with madness.
“Footprint” feels like stepping into a lucid dream orchestrated by a composer who moonlights as a philosopher. It’s not just something you watch or listen to—it’s something you absorb.
Over ten minutes, Cory Cullinan’s hypnotic composition lures you into a trance of introspection, with his daughter Sidney Cullinan crafting visuals that feel like they’re speaking in metaphors only your subconscious fully understands.
It’s part nature, part meditation, and part existential brain massage—a sensory experience that leaves you both calmed and questioning the meaning of it all.
If you’re thinking about diving into the twisted, beautiful chaos of a David Lynch movie, let me start by saying this: you are not prepared. That’s not an insult; it’s just the truth. Watching a Lynch film is like trying to have a meaningful conversation in a dream where half the people are speaking Esperanto and the other half are made of fire. The experience is less about understanding and more about letting your brain marinate in a vat of inexplicable weirdness.
[Read more…] about 10 Things You Need To Know Before Watching Your First David Lynch Film
