people want you to do well, when you go on a date that person wants it to go well so they can stop dating. when you interview for a job they want it to go well so they can finally hire someone. people want to watch, read, hear and experience good things. we’re rooting for you
In our world, a “good man” is the one who doesn’t harm, harass, or abuse women. A “good woman” is the one who serves, gives, and forgives men. Do you see? Men are good when they let women live. Women are good when they live for men. -Farida D.
TODAY: Hundreds of thousands in Minnesota braved -10°F weather to march through downtown Minneapolis as part of the statewide general strike demanding ICE out of the Twin Cities.
The Minnesota General Strike. This is one place in Minneapolis, but it's happening statewide.
100s of thousands, maybe millions of people striking against fascism. This will be a building block. And it's -24 degrees out there.
In one hand: a clothespin from the 1960s. Solid hardwood, smooth from decades of use. It still works perfectly, some 60 years later.
In the other: a clothespin from 2025. Lighter, paler wood, brittle. The spring is thin and unstable. Marketed as “extra durable,” my dad just raised an eyebrow.
At first glance, it’s just two clothespins. But they tell a bigger story — the shift from durability to disposability, from craftsmanship to cost-cutting, from stewardship to constant consumption. This is planned obsolescence in action.
Products are designed to fail so we must keep buying. Slowly, subtly, they break. Frayed wires, cracked hinges, brittle springs. Not because we want more, but because the old was never built to last.
The costs are everywhere. Landfills overflow. Wallets empty. And maybe most quietly, our spirits grow accustomed to impermanence, to the idea that nothing is meant to endure.
What if this philosophy extends beyond objects? What if it shapes how we treat relationships, communities, homes, even the Earth — as temporary, replaceable, disposable?
It doesn’t have to be this way. That 1960s clothespin reminds us another path is possible. That we once made things to last, and we can again. That quality, care, and intention matter. That we can design for repair, for continuity, for meaning.
have a headache. still romanticizing relationships from years ago. filled with dread about humanity’s future. craving grocery store birthday cake. scared about my fiber intake. convinced i am evil. addicted to reading restaurant menus online. interested in reopening old wounds.