PEREGRINE PULP

I’ve only taken the train in Canada and the US a few times. Each time I’ve been struck by how — on what are considered some of the worst transportation systems in the developed world with terribly slow, outdated, and limited service with no luxuries available — taking the train is so preferable to flying. If there wasn’t such a stark contrast in the travel times, speed, and routes I don’t know why anyone would fly. One mode is relaxed and civilized and the other just abounds

Pietro: There's this lovely, self-identified coven of dykes who run a cafe near me. It's the closest cafe to where I live and I go there all the time. Quinn: Nice. How's the espresso? Pietro: Serviceable. Their microfoam could use some work. Quinn: Okay. Pietro: And they need better snacks. But you can't be that picky in this town. They have outlets for folks, so what more can you ask for? Quinn: That's funny. Places really don't do power, do they. It's weird. Pietro:

We all know plastic pollution is ubiquitous, present in the soil, water, and air. At minimum it’s gross and all this plastic seems to be disgustingly persistent in the environment, too. But all over the place and for many years now we’ve been hearing that the situation is far worse than we imagined. Microplastics! Those petroleum-based fragments, and their infinitesimal nano off-spring, appeared to be far more problematic than a wayward Ziploc bag or pop bottle cap. And yet,

I’m declaring 2026 the year of the moral panic. We’re really going all-in, here. Aren’t we? To me, the following is quickly becoming Canada’s Epstein files: replete with the wildest allegations accompanied by a shocking paucity of evidence and a growing international furor all due to reporters, journalists, and editors showing no willingness to ask the most obvious questions or offer readily available data while, of course, delivering outlandish headlines. — Now, what follows