Steven Pinker and Juan Manuel Santos in the New York Times: The peace treaty announced this week between the government of Colombia and the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia, or FARC, marks more than the end of one war.
Rachel Feltman in the Washington Post: Much of the universe is made of dark matter, the unknowable, as-yet-undetected stuff that barely interacts with the "normal" matter around it.
Frans de Waal in Euromind: Despite having lived and worked continuously in the USA for the past 35 years, I still feel very European.
Anna Katherina Schaffner at the Times Literary Supplement: “Klaus Mann was six times jinxed. A son of Thomas Mann.
Kate Clanchy at The Guardian: This is a short novel narrated by a foetus who is also Hamlet. “Bounded in the nutshell” of (Ger-) Trudy’s womb he listens, with a cervix for an arras, to her planning to murder his father, John Cairncross, in partnership with her lover, John’s brother Claude (-ius).
Hal Hlavinka at The Quarterly Conversation: We meet many people across Clébert’s wanderings, and his characters (for that’s what they become) parade past the reader, page by page, each pausing only for a brief second before plunging back into the seedy tableau.
Carrie Arnold in Nautilus: In their 2015 book The Truth About Exercise Addiction: Understanding the Dark Side of Thinspiration, author Katherine Schreiber and Jacksonville University professor of kinesiology Heather Hausenblas write, “Exercise addicts experience physical activity as both a coping mechanism and a compulsion without which they feel they cannot survive.” People generally feel better both physically and mentally after working out.
Steve Silberman in The New York Times: In the late 1930s, Charles Bradley, the director of a home for “troublesome” children in Rhode Island, had a problem.
Work my son, who's seventeen years old, rides his bicycle to work in the heat and rain, and his legs and arms are bony and muscled old men love to send them into the smoke and trenches, into the knowledge of how easily bodies and courtesies come apart -- we did it by jesus we
3QD's own Namit Arora in Shunya's Notes: Indian-Americans, a group that includes me, are one of the most visible and successful global diasporas.
Liz Stinson in Wired: You share more than a zip code with your neighbors. You also share bugs—microscopic organisms (think bacteria, fungi, and viruses).
Richard Marshall in 3:AM Magazine: Ralph Wedgwood is a philosopher who asks questions related to ethics and epistemology.
Jonathan Shaw in Harvard Magazine: Jerry Mitrovica is a solid-earth geophysicist, but the description is inapt.
Miguel Rosa at The Millions: Raul Brandão debuted in English a month ago without a murmur. We should welcome him with the joyful thrill of discovering a late, great Portuguese novelist heretofore unknown to the Anglo-American world.
Alex Dean in Prospect Magazine: At two points in history philosophy has made a great leap forwards: in the time of Socrates, Plato and Aristotle from the mid-5th century to the late-4th century BC, and between 1640 and the French Revolution.
Dana Goodyear at The New Yorker: “City” is a monumental architectonic work, with dimensions comparable to those of the National Mall, in Washington, D.C., and a layout informed by pre-Columbian ritual cities like Teotihuacan.
Lauren Elkin at The Paris Review: There’s something so attractive about wandering aimlessly through the city, taking it all in (especially if we’re wearing Hermès while we do it).
In Kashmir, it is the boys, [and everyone] —Dedicated to the killed, maimed, blinded, imprisoned, .... curfewed in Kashmir It is the boys, says the government man on the Indian TV who the parents should ask to stay away away from the streets and stones and sit, in front of lifeless computers in dark, Internet banned, phones shut, smeared with blood of their mates drinking milk-less tea, dry-eyed and stay calm [a must] pretend the chains they keel under are the gossamer-threads of democracy shamelessly woven over Casspirs, pellet guns, hiding the torn bodies of their dead, maimed tortured, disappeared and words they can’t speak or write on a butchered map a city full of peppered air, and bullets It is the boys, says the government man on the Indian TV who the parents should ask to stay away from the falcons perched in forests, that dream of flying higher than the walls freeing this open air prison, covered with razor wires, where Asiya and Neelofar drown, on that stretch of Rambaira nallah, shallower than shallow, where ducklings learn to swim It is the boys, says the government man on the Indian TV who the parents should ask to stay away placing the boys as if corner bricks in their edifice of tyranny, where the dying are made to dig their graves, and blamed, for dying and living, thinking It is the boys, says the government man on the Indian TV who the parents should ask to stay away as if the boys are naughty toddlers, enchanted by oddities as if their slogans are cuss-words that should not be used as if their longing for freedom is a deviance not a right as if Burhan is not our martyr like Bhagat Singh is yours, as if the forests of Tral are not our Sierra Meistra it is the boys, the government man should know – yes, the Kashmiri boys, and know well – those who are killed but their freedom lives those who lose sight but their vision lives those who stone the occupation without being occupied it is the boys that the government man on Indian TV should know – for, it is that, the boys in Kashmir grow every time your tyranny grows and know this: it is not only the boys … it is the girls, and everyone else II Don't bring any spice – for our last dinner together I will bring the only candle Some sundried tomato that a neighbor shared Warmed in borrowed mustard oil You bring chochwor, If at all, the baker in your alley opens today Don't bring any spice – My city, that bride-in-transit-and-eternal- siege [ravaged by a rabid army on the way to her beloved’s home] is laden with pepper tonight Don't bring any spice – for our last dinner together if you crave salt.