Five Star Blog Roundup 438: Five Great Posts and a Lydia Millet Quote

This week's roundup of great posts is brought to you by a growing kid, exhaustion, the reality of midlife, our cultural relationship with death, the height of vulgarity, and a Lydia Millet quote:

 photo credit: Larry D. Moore [ CC BY-SA 4.0 ],  via Wikimedia Commons

photo credit: Larry D. Moore [CC BY-SA 4.0], via Wikimedia Commons

I worry about the very pernicious way we elevate and separate ourselves from other beasts, the way we rationalize our comfort and ease, our worship of the self, as healthy. It's enticing, but with a terrible taint of evil.

— Lydia Millet —

Happy reading!

"Running Into Life" by Vikki Reich at Up Popped a Fox:

…I noticed that his pants were too short, even though he'd only had them for a couple of months. And I teared up. It was the pants that put me over the edge.

There is a vulnerability to a kid—especially a teenager—in pants that are too short and not fashionably so. Those pants reminded me that he's still growing, a late bloomer by most standards. He's still a kid and blissfully unaware of so many things but he's also beginning to do adult things like apply for jobs and go to interviews and make plans for a life after high school. 

"So Tired of Waiting" by Robyn McNeil at The Whole Family Happiness Project:

…I struggled with the feelings that followed and a dense knot that formed in my belly. I’m not certain I‘m the intended audience for Hughes poem, but I felt it viscerally nonetheless.

I’m tired. I really, really am. And if I were the betting kind I’d wager that you’re tired too.

"The Midlife Unraveling" by Brené Brown at Brené Brown:

A crisis is an intense, short-lived, acute, easily identifiable, and defining event that can be controlled and managed.

Midlife is not a crisis. Midlife is an unraveling.

"Raising the Dead" by Sister Wolf at Godammit I'm Mad:

Everyone seems to like celebrating Dia de los Muertos, with it’s Goth costumes and other hipster friendly activities. But the Toraja take it to another level. Maybe somewhere between their culture and ours there’s a way to accept and embrace death as part of a natural cycle if not a voyage to the other side.

"'A Nasty Name for a Nasty Thing': A History of Cunt" by Dr. Kate Lister at Whores of Yore:

We can understand why racial slurs are hideously offensive, but cunt? Does it not strike anyone else as odd that the most offensive word in English is a word for vulva?

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