Jenni Berrett

There has been a lot of discussion about the who of this ten dollar bill. We have until 2020, but there are already some popular suggestions: Harriet Tubman. Rosa Parks. Eleanor Roosevelt.

I don’t think the bar is low enough. We obviously need a way to work up to the Bechdel Test. Baby steps. And we all know women love babies.

At some point intellect has to make room for something bigger, for something scarier than just about anything. In order to truly learn something, you have to be vulnerable. You have to walk in and set your broken parts on the table and say, “Here, fix it. Or at least be broken with me.”

"...Mental illness isn’t that exclusive. It doesn’t care how your day is going."

Here we are, your fearless Internet explorers (pun totally intended), back with another melange of web flotsam for you to scavenge.

Boy, do we have some great finds this week. Olympic farting and synth-soaked summer jams — what more could you want? If your answer was "a longform piece of investigative journalism detailing Nicki Minaj's appearance at a bar mitzvah," you've come to the right place.

[CN: vomit] Having been an unfeeling, sluggish husk of a person with the nap-taking skills of an elderly sloth for the past five months or so, I have reemerged too tender for this world.

Culturally speaking, though, it’s pretty much set in stone. Even if I left the church entirely, there’s no getting out of my heritage. Cut me open; I’ll bleed funeral potatoes. I’m what you call a “legacy Mormon” — my ancestors migrated across the frontier and settled in Utah (then Mexico) after facing unspeakable persecution from countless communities in the United States. You probably know my ancestors best as the people with the wives.

If you find yourself feeling hurt, mad, sad, etc. about the election this year, go ahead and feel it. Cry in front of your dad. Eat some queso. When it’s all said and done, feel how you need to feel. The only way to foster a healthy relationship between emotion and politics is to acknowledge that there is one in the first place, and that it probably needs fixing.

"I had always pictured myself spending afternoons studying there. I instead found myself curled up on one of those benches at five in the morning, promising the crises hotline operator that no, I did not want to kill myself. I just didn’t know who else to call."