Jonathan Simcoe
@jdsimcoe
Jonathan Simcoe
@jdsimcoe
This should tell us something about the pace of a story versus the pace of real life: the story is way faster, compressed, and exaggerated—a place where something new always has to be happening, something relevant to that which has already happened.
Many of the greatest Medieval and Renaissance paintings can also be seen as a form of imaginative soul-craft. Raphael’s School of Athens, for example, is imprinted on my soul (through endless gawping at the poster of it on my wall). It’s a portal between the sensory and the spiritual world, connecting us to Raphael’s ideal city, where the
... See moreOur design system isn’t our UI kit or our style guide. It’s the shared language we have when we talk about our work.
Adrift on a hostile planet, the captain knew he would die. Collapsed on the deck, doomed, he looked up. He did not see the churning ice-sea of nature’s riot, lit by perpetual lightning and ecstatic aurora. Instead, he saw a girl with a owl on her shoulder. She pointed past him to a corner in the ship’s research lab. The owl rotated its head to look
... See moreTaking a census every 10 years is better than never taking it, but in the future, say in 100 years, a census should be taken every day. We are perfectly capable of counting all people all the time. Everyone born should have an immovable ID from birth. One based on all the things we base our identity on: from our DNA, to our family ties, to what we
... See moreThe outcome has the potential to permanently split an already divided evangelical America. Like the Trump movement within the Republican Party, a populist groundswell within the already conservative evangelical denomination is trying to install an anti-establishment leader who could wrench the church even further to the right, while opponents
... See moreBeing in Mumford & Sons was exhilarating.
Harry watched Dumbledore striding up and down in front of him, and thought. He thought of his mother, his father, and Sirius. He thought of Cedric Diggory. He thought of all the terrible deeds he knew Lord Voldemort had done. A flame seemed to leap inside his chest, searing his throat.