Harry Thorne

A charm a single charm is doubtful. If the red is rose and there is a gate surrounding it, if inside is let in and there places change then certainly something is upright. It is earnest.

At the beach I felt my parents’ shinbones. The bones were flat and curved, like the slats in a venetian blind. The long edges were sharp as swords.

Lent David Lynch a lighter once

with leg-of-mutton sleeves, hotel-front-desk phones, and so on: trash cans are as good as pale skin, in that room in the central police headquarters as well as in the gloomy retinas of today's gum-chewing teenagers. Here, colors win out over humans.

brown, black, dusty pink, gray, dark turquoise, bil-berry, rust, yellow, cream, honey, bottle green, in which everything is tinged: trash cans, the beautiful salesgirls' skin (made up in those tones), stockings, hats, wallpaper, satin cushions, satin shirts, crepe dresses

Looking back now, I see that, from start to finish, this case was only ever a matter of train and plane timetables.

Agelaus had dropped his sword when he was killed. With his strong arm Odysseus swung, slashed down and sliced right through the priest's neck, and his head, still framing words, rolled in the dust.

but you do what you know because what else is there?

Pausanias paused—for the wise men teach me to speak in equal measures like this—and Aristodemus said that Aristophanes was supposed to speak, but he came down with hiccups from being full or something else and wasn’t able to speak.

and drifting, other than in the imagination, is expensive

A fool, at any rate, if they are disappointed by not finding it.

Anyway throwback to the iconic Jet review from 2006 aka the video of a monkey pissing in its own mouth aka a good metaphor: pitchfork.com/reviews/albums…

the indie and the mainstream require one another to grow. And as mainstream outlets go, mainstream outlets owned by large corporations that will forever prioritise profit over substance, Pitchfork was (which is to say its editors were) reliable, dedicated, and outward looking.

The sorry demise of Pitchfork is a sorry reflection of the sorry state of what was formerly the most influential and expressive form of cultural criticism. Since the 90s, music writing has suffered for reasons beyond its control (file sharing, dig publishing, streaming, media

Signing off for the year from my temporary job @ArtReview_ Text from newsletter @alexleissle and I finished today all these gorgeous end of year essays (from @cnqmdi, @BetaRish, @HRFThorne, @jameskhansen and many others) are here artreview.com/category/the-y… Here's to better times!

to return and escape and return and escape again: I wrote about pop punk, nostalgia, and the best music of 2023, for @ArtReview_

[Philip] Glass also worked as a plumber, and one day installed a dishwasher in the apartment of the art critic Robert Hughes.