Monthly Archives: November 2020
The dedication of one’s entire life to a community left their memory in a dusty room, largely visited by bored students on field trips and the occasional curious passersby.
In Hallmark, my worst fears never wrote the ending.
Was this an encounter with some forest guardian, a mountain sprite who hikes miles through the misty mountains and sips water at hidden springs?
If arsenic is a woman’s weapon—whether to kill others or to beautify oneself—Lively’s character embraces the poison.
For those who shout down ignorance even past the point of no return, who know we are less than two minutes from midnight and continue anyway.
Like everything magical, though, the airship project was riddled with realities.
“According to Ptolemy, “Saturn will generally produce cold in the bowels, excessive phlegm, rheumatism, emaciation, sickliness, … [and/or] cough.” Seems about right.
Maybe it’s an overindulgence in fantasy that makes all jewelry feel slightly magic.
It is my hope that we remember to use the breath we have in our lungs to speak up, to show mercy, and to act with love.
Eve is a bit like radium—taken from the father, who was taken from the earth. A byproduct. Twice derivative.
The act of donning this ridiculous suit enabled me to let go of the remaining hesitations I harbored about the questionable hot-weather hot-spring endeavor we had gotten ourselves into.
Being a terrifying nitrogen nerd is one of my brother’s very few failings, and in this case it turned out to be a great help.
Silicon is, I think, a good standard-bearer for the present, because it reminds us that the abstract and the concrete are always intertwined.
Lithium might have been a symbol of comfort and release to these artists, but it’s not without its drawbacks.
It was probably Jungle Jam and Friends which started another time-honored tradition of the Koning household: incessant quoting.
When you cook, you play with fire, and (sooner or later) you’ll be playing with carbon too.
If we breathe disbelief and dismissal into the faces of marginalized people who are gasping for air, we are denying them so much more than simple affirmation.
To perfectly capture the moment, the photo of my mom crossing the finish line includes me in the background, having lost the battle with my stomach and undoubtedly scarring fellow turkey-trotters for life.
Neon, the element named for the concept of novelty itself, is now hanging onto its public relevance by a thread of nostalgia.
Perhaps what was most interesting to me about chemistry was the very fact that we could study something that was too small to see.
Along with portmanteaus like “Broseph” or “Broso” (for Spanish class), calling your friend “Bromine” in chemistry class was surely hilarious exactly one time but was still repeated many more times.
Still, naturally sourced iron barely meets the demands of even a one-step-above-casual player. Enter: iron farms.
How many times have Christians, distracted by their frantic, sixteenth-note lives, mistaken idolatry for piety?
If you haven’t read this masterpiece, please do yourself a favor and Amazon Prime that sucker in time for some weekend reading.
We live in a country where nearly 70 million people made that choice, and we need to talk about it.
Honestly, I have a plethora of metaphors to explore already: Satan can seem to bring light to the world but that isn’t the true light! Exposing things to the daylight makes them less dangerous! Capitalism makes people operate in a scarcity model which hinders progress!
And today, when I feel less than my full self in the midst of such urgency to be our best selves, I sway dangerously close to becoming firewood.
The rawness of this proximity to life makes me feel vulnerable, sort of like therapy but without the armchairs.
My brain shut off seeing “3-chloro-4-dichloromethyl5-hydroxy-2(5H)-furanone.”
I don’t want to think about the election right now.