Global Comment’s editors are reading about women in gaming and journalism, undercover investigations, music, and what happens when you accidentally kill someone.
The Super Bowl has become a capitalist extravaganza of advertising, peculiarly interrupted by some men running about on a field chasing a ball.
If the vuvuzelas are where the line is to be drawn, where, exactly, do the antics of British fans fall?
You’re laughing now, but you’ll be sorry later, as ashes fall from the sky, the locusts advance, and, somewhere, Christiano Ronaldo continues to grin maniacally.
The Patriots are 18-1; a man hides his face against my shoulder, because the world had suddenly become too much to bear. A few seconds ago, I was trying to eat two chicken drumsticks at the same time, so you can imagine how dignified I must look.