Edie is just trying to survive. She’s messing up in her dead-end admin job in her all-white office, is sleeping with all the wrong men, and has failed at the only thing that meant anything to her, painting. No one seems to care that she doesn’t really know what she’s doing with her life beyond looking for her next hook-up. And then she meets Eric, a white middle-aged archivist with a suburban family, including a wife who has sort-of-agreed to an open marriage and an adopted black daughter who doesn’t have a single person in her life who can show her how to do her hair. As if navigating the constantly shifting landscape of sexual and racial politics as a young black woman wasn’t already hard enough, with nowhere else left to go, Edie finds herself falling head-first into Eric’s home and family. Razor-sharp, provocatively page-turning and surprisingly tender, Luster by Raven Leilani is a painfully funny debut about what it means to be young now.

Having a crush can bring that butterfly feeling. But having a crush on your roommate is just asking for trouble. Fallon is supposed to be on her road to self-discovery, focusing on herself and doing yoga. She swore off love, relationships, and even took a vow of celibacy after her last break-up. Her roommate, Whitney, a sexy former basketball player, makes her reconsider. Not like it matters. Fallon definitely isn't her type. She doesn't think Whitney would want to pursue a relationship with another masculine woman. Instead, she turns to Fallon as her trusted confidante, knocking on her door looking for advice. Whitney is oblivious that her friend is crushing on her and Fallon has convinced herself she's okay with that.

A smart, incisive look at the technologies sold as artificial intelligence, the drawbacks and pitfalls of technology sold under this banner, and why it’s crucial to recognize the many ways in which AI hype covers for a small set of power-hungry actors at work and in the world. Is artificial intelligence going to take over the world? Have big tech scientists created an artificial lifeform that can think on its own? Is it going to put authors, artists, and others out of business? Are we about to enter an age where computers are better than humans at everything? The answer to these questions, linguist Emily M. Bender and sociologist Alex Hanna make clear, is “no,” “they wish,” “LOL,” and “definitely not.” This kind of thinking is a symptom of a phenomenon known as “AI hype.” Hype looks and smells It twists words and helps the rich get richer by justifying data theft, motivating surveillance capitalism, and devaluing human creativity in order to replace meaningful work with jobs that treat people like machines. In The AI Con, Bender and Hanna offer a sharp, witty, and wide-ranging take-down of AI hype across its many forms. Bender and Hanna show you how to spot AI hype, how to deconstruct it, and how to expose the power grabs it aims to hide. Armed with these tools, you will be prepared to push back against AI hype at work, as a consumer in the marketplace, as a skeptical newsreader, and as a citizen holding policymakers to account. Together, Bender and Hanna expose AI hype for what it a mask for Big Tech’s drive for profit, with little concern for who it affects.

Before the nightmare, Yeong-hye and her husband lived an ordinary life. But when splintering, blood-soaked images start haunting her thoughts, Yeong-hye decides to purge her mind and renounce eating meat. In a country where societal mores are strictly obeyed, Yeong-hye's decision to embrace a more “plant-like” existence is a shocking act of subversion. And as her passive rebellion manifests in ever more extreme and frightening forms, scandal, abuse, and estrangement begin to send Yeong-hye spiraling deep into the spaces of her fantasy. In a complete metamorphosis of both mind and body, her now dangerous endeavor will take Yeong-hye—impossibly, ecstatically, tragically—far from her once-known self altogether.

While it is common practice in contemporary theatre to re-contextualise a piece of work, the riskier - and Slavoj Zizek would argue more faithful - approach might be to change the actual story itself. Zizek's Antigone not only re-positions Antigone as a revolutionary political figure, it alters the narrative of the play itself. As Zizek puts it himself in the introduction to the play, 'Only one thing is sure: sticking to the traditional letter is the safest way to betray the spirit of the classic'. Philosophers have long been preoccupied with Antigone - Kierkegaard, Hegel, Plato and Judith Butler to name but a few - but never before has a philosopher had the audacity to throw fidelity to the wind and re-write one of the most classic plays in the history of theatre. This lack of fidelity is, of course, precisely the point: not only is this a fascinating new play in its own right, it is a a political work calling into question our ideas of reverence to the canon, fidelity to the text and the notion of what 'faithfulness' might really mean. A brilliantly funny, moving and political play for those who are interested in reading and watching Antigone in a new way.