Paul Auckland Best | Guernica

An interpreter is not supposed to side with either party they interpret for. You cannot favor the deaf signer, or the hearing and speaking person, in any emotional way. You cannot be disgusted by the message you are interpreting. If the deaf person signs FUCK YOU, then you have to say FUCK YOU, and you can’t omit it because you feel uncomfortable. It also means that if the lawyer says “you’re getting twenty-five to life” and doesn’t add “I’m sorry” then you are not supposed to add “I’m sorry” even if you really are because you have just spent two years together in something like a relationship.

Wesley Morris | The New York Times Magazine

The yearning to transcend race keeps coming up against the bedrock cultural matter of separateness. But the tectonic plates of the culture keep pushing against one another with greater, earthquaking force.

Josh Gondelman | McSweeney's

Benjamin Hart | The Awl

That’s why I’m writing this letter on parchment paper, and that’s why I’m having it hand-delivered to every major media outlet in America. Because you can quit the city and you can quit the Internet, but you can never quit telling people how much better you are than them.

Gita Jackson | Polygon

For me, all I can think about is the dress Jay chooses when she goes out with Hugh, a pink sundress. Her pink bra and shorts. Her pink nail polish on her thumb as she clutches that flower.

All these kids look young, though judging by the scant context clues in the movie, they should be about 19 or 20.

That was around the age I started dating for real, started having sex and letting myself be vulnerable to men. I discovered when I lost my virginity that it isn't the sex that hurts.

Leigh Alexander | Medium

The other day I pretended to be in the midst of a “situation.” I had, I said, a flurry of important work emails. This was so that I could pull out my phone and be spared from a boring conversation. I lied through my teeth to a nice person so I could get away with zoning out in front of my phone instead of finding a way to clue him in to the fact that we had come to the natural end of our gentle conversational meadow. And as he stood there patiently, I did read my email, and check Facebook and Twitter, and answer a message, and idly scroll-pop Facebook and Twitter again — but it wasn’t because I thought something important might actually be there. There wasn’t even someone I’d rather be talking to, in particular. The phone gave me somewhere I “had to” go. It erected a rectangular wall of light to hide behind. Misting our attention across the numerous empty, tactile diversions available on a smartphone is socially isolating, but there’s a secret relief in that isolation.

Krystie Lee Yandoli | Buzzfeed

How do you keep coming up with ideas for hundreds of books?

I kind of work backwards from most authors, and my trick is to think of a title, not an idea. A year ago I was walking my dog in Riverside Park and these words flashed into my head: Little Shop of Hamsters. It’s a great title, right? So then I think, Well how do you make a hamster scary?

Meghan O’Gieblyn | Boston Review

His most interesting observation is that shamers are often convinced they are doing good. The people who took down Sacco believed they were punching up, he argues. “They were cutting down a member of the media elite, continuing the civil rights tradition that started with Rosa Parks, the hitherto silenced underdogs shaming into submission the powerful racist.”

So much good stuff in this review of Jon Ronson's new book on the rise of public shaming in the age of social media.

Gilbert Cruz, Dave Itzkoff, and Kathryn Shattuck | The New York Times

“Early in the show, I knew that part of what would need to go on was explaining both to the audience and to a character like Pete the difference between his job and the job of creative. The success of Bob Newhart, whose whole persona was based on being a Peter Campbell-like character, was such a great moment for those who dream of more than what they’re doing. It’s the whole idea that accounting is your day job, that maybe it's a way station before something else.”

Tanner Cole | Narratively

Cary Wolinsky | Cary Wolinsky Photographs

It seemed easy enough. To show how much wool a sheep grows in a season just shear off half the wool and have the sheep stand sideways.

Great image. Even better story.

Arielle Zibrak | Avidly

Alexandra Lange | The New Yorker

For some, Instagram has been an easy way to deal with personal collections. If you are the proud owner of thousands of vintage Valentines, embroidered tourist patches, or personalized book plates, digitizing them can feel overwhelming. The dailyness of Instagram—one photo, one day at a time—breaks the task down, and the endorphin boost of likes and followers keeps you rolling.

Nick Ripatrazone | The Millions

Kate Hakala | Mic

When the excuse of business doesn't seem to suffice, we turn to apologetic self-deprecation. Nowhere was this better demonstrated than in Kelly Stouts' "Let's Get Drinks," a satirical essay in the New Yorker:

"B: I am total garbage at scheduling and forgot we were supposed to meet up tonight. Could you do Mon? SO SORRY. I feel terrible.

A: OMG, do not feel terrible. You are not as bad as I am. If you're garbage, then I am, like, the Deepwater Horizon oil spill, because Monday doesn't work. What about tomorrow?"

The casual yet earnest apology, the self-deprecating "I'm the worst's," make us feel like we're absolving ourselves for our lateness sins. The problem is that it disconnects us from that other person's reactions and feelings, putting our own "issues" at the center of the conversation. In the worst case scenario, it can actually damage our friendships.

Kiera Butler | Mother Jones

If we really want to eat better, Wansink explains, we have to trick our brains into making the right choices. The Food and Brand Lab once counseled a man—random people sometimes call in with questions or problems—who wanted to quit drinking Slurpees every day. The team knew that just telling him to avoid 7-Eleven wouldn’t work. “So we told him that he had to drink it in the parking lot,” Wansink says. “He had to sit there and drink that stupid thing and get brain freeze.” Pretty soon, Slurpee Guy kicked the habit.