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James Victore is a designer, author, and artist whose work is included in the permanent collection of the Museum of Modern Art. He is learning to be a writer. He can be found on Instagram: @jamesvictore and Twitter: @jamesvictore.
Outside my window: a gray day in Ann Arbor. Two cops—in shorts, on bicycles—glide by. A roiling sea of blue and gold middle-aged. . .
Vegetable fuchsia but faded, gilt
gone bad from its season in Hell. Plucked up
with dirt on its cheek, petrified
as a rose shut. . .
November’s first snow fell overnight. Outside the city, the mountains gleamed powdery in the morning sunlight, but the snow. . .
Imagine that you are David Brooks, the Bobo King of the New York Times op-ed page.
To say that none of our new, digitally-enabled witchery “works” is missing the point—and misunderstanding the theater of magic.
The late-career arc of Steve Bannon, Washington insider, was by any measure a supreme anticlimax. Bannon, you may recall, was. . .