Hazlitt

“In Kashechewan, the effects of the residential schools are hard to avoid. You see them in the eight-year-olds who scan the dirt roads looking for cigarette butts to smoke. You see them in Kristal, asking me if I want to accompany her to an empty house to watch porn.”

It’s hard to imagine how truly full of dentists Los Algodones is. It’s like trying to imagine a city full of piano movers. They are, quite literally, everywhere. Memories of inconveniently scheduled cleanings quake in the face of the omnipresent availability, the frantic, logicless convenience.

“Why, a decade ago, did my father give me the heavy gift of a controversial 100-year-old Oswald Spengler tome? It took a pandemic for me to find out.”

“Transforming craft into an act of protest against indifference, against the lack of willpower to reverse or address a societal ill, is something that Mexican women, and women around the world, are familiar with.”

What’s it like to be pregnant or a new mother right now? Hazlitt publishes three dispatches on pregnancy during the pandemic.

For many magazine editors recently, work has meant a brief span of highly satisfying work and eventually losing their job to make room for videos that people may not even want to watch online.

“I’ve Narcan’d the same guy twice in a shift. Some days everyone is just dying and coming back left and right like junkie whack-a-mole…It’s a strange feeling, knowing that there’s an oops button on an overdose. We don’t always get there in time. If you’re by yourself, or if you took a particularly strong blend, or if your friends suck at calling 911, sometimes you die all the way. But a lot of the time, you die most of the way, and then we pop you full of magic eraser juice, and you come stumbling back from the edge.”

The lair of witches and ghouls before they became an Instagrammer’s delight, mountains are where we go to find a little distance, a little fear, a little magic.

Through personal history, the history of a company, and the history of games writ large, Chris Randle explores the enduring appeal of Magic: The Gathering, the trading card game which has persisted in comic shops, convention centers, and basement rumpus rooms for twenty-five years.