I did a project a few years ago in which we re-designed Buckingham Palace in London. we concluded that the Queen could have a couple of rooms at the back of the building, in deference to her tenancy but that the rest should become a place to roam, since we own it anyway.

this story is hilarious. layer upon layer of art as commodity.

if only people who'd lost their cat could be so precise.

useful to be reminded of this particular kind of torture, when it's been recently announced that China is to shift to using lethal injections.

apparently there are only two weeks of the year in France where it is authorised to hunt for wild frogs. the rest are imported.

is there a moment when authors will stop self-actualizing or seeing opportunities for celebrity and start to see these sorts of ventures as yet another call for free labour and disposable volunteers?