These last six months feel like some kind of breathless void in the discourse. Most of the sharpest thinkers I know of appear to be on some kind of hiatus, or are depressed, or took a job somewhere, or are doing some kind of religious hermetic thing. Many are "going through the motions" and privately admit they are losing their direction. If you look at each person's life trajectory and whatever appears to have diminished their output as writers, artists, thinkers and so on, it all seems just personal on the surface: but I suspect it may actually be a broader kind of 'exhaustion'. Their personal difficulties in their work seem only to be manifestations of a much wider cultural exhaustion. We appear to be in a transitional era that goes on forever. Many have attempted to keep track of or to influence the general direction that culture is going in, and appeared to be doing so fairly well for a while. But by now, everyone who has attempted that task has been humbled deeply by a series of vague and inscrutable cultural shifts that have snuck in with quiet haste. The result has been total discombobulation and a wearying sense of empty instability. Nobody knows what is next, and nobody appears to be in a strong position to shape what comes next either. Our compasses are failing us. Meanwhile the publishing industry continues its spectacular death, reading itself is collapsing, and even the anthropological realities of what it means to be human are now in question. We've felt the "something's gotta give" feeling for so long that we are now numb, and any attempt at saying what will or could or might "give" now feels pointless. Building niche sideline underground IRL projects feels extraordinarily distant. Deep traditional religion appeals, but its logical endpoint is for each of us to shut up, withdraw, and embrace a life of silent devotion. And above all -- spectacle is now boring, redundant; the wider culture is tired of LOOKING and clicking and subscribing and so on. Writers are tired of marching to the 24/7 tempo of that environment as well. Burnout is the chief export of this system -- for author and reader alike. Whatever this is, it's clear to me that an era has very quietly ended and that whatever's "next" may not come at all, at least not for a long time yet.

Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre has been banned in four Texas school districts. This is outrageous. This is an affront to both literature and literacy.