Internships are the air that some of us breathe in between every class and extracurricular appointment in our week, especially if we fancy ourselves “creative,” and want to work in “creative” industries, where money is tight
Petra dreams that chimneys topping buildings on her street are men who watch as she brings child home. Petra dreams she strangles child & that she can feel this as child feels it, warm hands on shoulder & then on neck.
From Columbia Law School graduate to CEO of Manhattan GMAT to founder of a nonprofit organization—none other than Venture for America—Andrew Yang ihsa made a profession out of exploring the ways we can impact a world of changes and opportunities.
A chain of gutted pigs moves along a conveyor belt supported from the ceiling, swaying from the sudden stops and starts of machinery. Watery blood from the gaping holes in the pigs’ stomachs drips down their back legs, forming a red stream running into a nearby floor drain.
First came the cryptic, diamond-shaped graffiti grids. Then there were the hand fans with the same printed image, distributed to fans at FYF music festival. The images were eventually traced back to the Canadian rock band Arcade Fire.
Tony Soprano. Walter White. Don Draper. And just for fun, let’s throw in Dr. Gregory House, Jack Bauer, and a young Hannibal Lecter.
Torchon gripped tightly, I struggled a little to carry my plate to the presentation room. The executive chef—my adjudicator—watched my wrist shake and smiled in an indulgent, somewhat disparaging way.
Quick: If Weezer, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, and Nine Inch Nails had a baby, what would it be?
The Pixies, of course.
We could have published a piece on the injustice of unpaid internships. I’ve had one; most of us have had one. This summer, unpaid Eye writers and artists built Ikea shelves in SoHo, took out the trash in Greenpoint, and burnt their arms delivering overheated pizzas in Williamsburg.