I woke up in the apartment where our parents used to live

[sovay]

Rabbit, rabbit! Too late in the day to suggest it as a serious practice, it struck me that given the quantity of sheer alternative untruth flying around the public sphere these days, the most topsy-turvy thing one could do on April Fool's Day is tell the truth.

I like knowing about both Ghil'ad Zuckermann's work with language revival and the fossil beds of the last day of the Cretaceous.

I Married a Monster from Outer Space (1958) is the weirdest combination of feminist horror and stupider-than-ass '50's paranoia tropes. I'm glad Thomas Tryon went on to have a writing career.

Comments

[sovay]

Yeah.

I have not actually read the New Yorker article—I saw reportage in the Guardian and then the New York Times, of which I linked the latter because it seemed more extensive—and now I am not very inclined to do so, which is demoralizing. It feels especially obnoxious because the site may be rich in its own right: beautifully fossilized dead fish are not nothing. But its own right is not what's being claimed.

[selkie]

I was going to say, the New Yorker made me enthralled and skeptical in nearly equal parts. One can't fake microtektites, presumably, but the Hell Creek formation has been available for people to scour since my own dinosaur phase (My Visit to the Dinosaurs, Aliki, read circa 1983) and only one guy -- who rocks up to his field dig playing the Indiana Jones theme -- has mentioned this.

[sovay]

(My Visit to the Dinosaurs, Aliki, read circa 1983)

*fistbump*

[selkie]

Second only to Mummies!