#87 The Offcuts

Truth-shattering podcasts, teeth-shattering chocolate

A shorter, all the sweeter, later but who’s counting Offcuts this week. Any thoughts on the new format? I’m finding it much easier to drop in thought pieces and snippets to share, so I hope you’re finding the change a good one - but equally I won’t mind if you disagree. All feedback is welcome.

I am still one book ahead of schedule, and that is the most important thing. I did not manage to find the time to read a single page of my book for the duration of my holiday last week - the longest stretch of time in a while I will have gone without holding a book. I finished Tart by Slutty Cheff. Her bold and brazen approach to writing is something I greatly admire. I am learning to be more direct and opinionated in my own writing, and reading the work of others who do it seamlessly is of great use to me. Onto the next defiant, shameless, and witty female author. This morning, I picked up Madeline Cash’s short story collection, Earth Angel. Of the three stories I’ve read, I know this will be a book I continue to pick up in future as I work on my own short stories. Her writing is bizarre, wry, and dripping with satire.

The myth of whiteness in classical sculpture

Bad Bunny delivered a powerful halftime performance at the Super Bowl - it’s a disappointment that he chose to wear Zara

Jeff Bezos killed the Washington Post

The tyranny of rainbow cakes and corporate Pride as a queer baker

The Mormon influence on pop culture

Easter chocolate is my favourite kind of seasonal chocolate. I despise finding it in the supermarket until after Christmas is well and truly out of the way, but come January 1st, I have no complaints. All the limited editions and gimmicky versions of normal chocolate have me hooked like the good little consumer Mars, Nestle, and Cadbury want me to be. Though I have been mourning the loss of Galaxy Enchanted Eggs since they were discontinued two years ago. I, too, was a Brit left heartbroken. This week, I discovered Galaxy Minstrel Eggs, a new release from last year, which I was excited to try. My verdict would be a 7/10. I don’t think the shape of a minstrel translates well into a little egg; I feared I’d break a tooth from crunching through the outer shell. Minstrels should remain as they are, and my hunt continues for something to satisfy my Enchanted eggs loss.

I think I may have also found the perfect new song to obsess over. Together we can all be Substack girls.

Yesterday, I listened to the Blood Relatives series from the In The Dark podcast by the New Yorker, looking at The White House Murders and the case against Jeremy Bamber, and I did not come up for air. The new (or lesser-known) pieces of evidence revealed, and critique of the police’s handling of the case, solidified the strong potential miscarriage of justice which took place. As one of the most notorious murder cases in the UK, I had always thought the case to be relatively open-shut, but I was left reeling.

We were never supposed to see our own faces this much. It’s not good for us to hyper-fixate on our features and watch as our physical selves distort in front of our eyes. This is amplified by modern technology. Our face is our password, unlocking the gates to other times, we will be confronted with our own faces. On FaceTime, Zoom calls, and selfies distort self-perception. The beauty industry continues to thrive on our preoccupation with our own image.

In Sylvia Plath’s poem Mirror, she explored the complex versions of self through personification of a mirror. The mirror (the poem’s initial narrator) claims to be honest and unbiased, but as the poem continues, the battle between a woman’s idea of self, reflection, and beauty ideals collide.

I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful