Hey college students, what are you doing next semester? Bridge Nine Records is looking to hire three interns for the spring 2014 semester. Candidates should be self-motivated and hard-working and eager to learn about the inner workings of a modern independent record label.
We’re looking to fill…
The good news is, people seem to really like you. You’re kind and generous and warm company, and you’re never short of the right thing to say in a difficult moment.
However, you’ve been through some fairly tough times, and it can sometimes feel like all of this affection is just raining down and the bouncing back off your defences.
You put on a brave face, but sometimes that feeling of isolation can be hard to bear.
It’s just as well you have some amazing friends to help you deal with it.
Are you serious with this? Get home Netflix, you are drunk.
THE KILLING CANNOT BE KILLED!!!!
Much of the work we do for our kids, whether as parents or as siblings or as detached aficionados of the adorable, involves fiction. We tell children stories, about dragons and princes and mischievous monsters. We inform them of the doings of Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy. We create worlds meant to inspire them and soothe them and delight them and protect them.
Usually, we do this work on our own, individually: at bedtime, at storytime, with toys and dolls and movies. We don’t normally get residents of the real world to help us create our story worlds. The fictionalization of childhood is something that plays out, in general, at the level of the family. The parent. The teacher.
Except when it doesn’t. Except when the fiction involves a massive, verging-on-city-wide effort—to inspire a kid, and soothe him, and delight him, and protect him. Sometimes, the fiction plays out along the lines of a network.
I mention this because of Batkid. In everyday life—the life that can be all too nonfictional—the Batkid is named Miles. He is 5 years old. He lives, with his family, near San Francisco. He has been battling leukemia since he was nearly 2. He is, and hopefully will remain, in remission.
Another thing about Miles: He loves Batman. Which led his parents to write to the Make-A-Wish foundation, asking it to help them perpetrate, for and on behalf of their son, the ultimate fiction. They wanted Patricia Wilson, head of the foundation in the Bay Area, to make Miles a Batkid. They wanted him to spend a day saving San Francisco.
The best rant you’re guaranteed to see this week thanks to the new “sex and pizza” analogy alone.