eOpicle

Nothing says late-stage capitalism with a side of melancholy quite like a liquidation banner sandwiched between a subscription pitch and a dividend king teaser. And yet here we are. After 54 years in business, Rocky’s Great Outdoors — a Burton, Michigan institution — is closing its doors. Not bankrupt. Not imploding in scandal. Just… done. A family business that started in 1971 selling motorcycle parts, evolved into a 50,000-square-foot temple of boots and bait, and now joins the ever-growing Hall of Retail Ghosts. Let’s talk about what this actually means — beyond the press release language and the “macro pressures” greatest hits playlist. The Retail Hunger Games Dick’s Sporting Goods didn’t just survive the retail apocalypse — it thrived. Academy Sports + Outdoors ? Also fine. Meanwhile, the list of fallen names reads like a mall directory from 2008: Modell’s Sporting Goods Bob’s Stores Moosejaw Orvis Eastern Mountain Sports The Sports Authority And now...

There was a time—gather ‘round, children—when winter required Structure. Denim. Buttons. Waistbands with ambition. That time is over. This winter, I have lived in loungewear. Not visited it. Not occasionally dabbled. I have relocated my personality into matching knit sets. If there were a census category labeled “Primary Residence: Soft,” I would check it confidently. And no, this isn’t one of those breathless “I discovered comfort!” lifestyle awakenings. I have always believed in comfort. I just used to believe it had to be earned. You know. Productivity first, softness later. Winter said: absolutely not. So here we are. Below are the loungewear sets I’ve been living in this season—the heroes, the enablers, the elastic-waisted confidants who have seen me through early mornings, late nights, and the existential spiral that happens when it’s dark at 4:37 p.m. 1. The Elevated Sweat Set That Pretends I Have Plans 4 You know the one. Structured enough to look intentional. Soft enough to f...

There are few things more human than throwing a tea party. You gather cups no one actually drinks from. You assign roles. You pour invisible liquids with deep sincerity. You nod solemnly at someone who isn’t there. And now, apparently, you can add this to the list of deeply human behaviors: An ape sitting down with scientists… and serving up imagination. Let’s set the scene. A research lab. A table. Toy cups. Props. Curious primate eyes. Scientists hoping—quietly, cautiously—that something interesting might happen. And then it does. An ape begins engaging in pretend play. Not just manipulation. Not just copying. Not just “press lever, get grape.” But imagination . Now, before we all grab monocles and gasp into porcelain teacups, let’s acknowledge something: humans have been guarding imagination like it’s a private club membership. “Symbolic thought? That’s us.” “Pretend play? Exclusive.” “Tea parties? Reserved for toddlers and literary heroines.” But then along ...

There are few things more unsettling than watching someone you know very well become… happy in a way you don’t approve of. Not “won the lottery” happy. Not “finally dumped the guy who kept forgetting her birthday” happy. No—this is the deeply unnerving kind of happiness. The kind that comes with community. Purpose. Inner peace. Possibly a potluck schedule. This is the happiness that makes you squint. This is the happiness that makes you say, Good for her , through clenched teeth while silently assembling a prosecution case in your head. Because your friend didn’t just change. She converted. She crossed over. She went from rolling her eyes at religion to rolling up her sleeves at church fundraisers. From “organized religion is a net negative for humanity” to “the women’s Bible study really spoke to me.” From atheist hot takes to suspiciously serene brunch energy. She found God. And worse—she seems better off for it . And now you, a reasonable, thoughtful, live-and-let-live atheis...

Every few years, the media discovers the same phenomenon, gasps dramatically, and acts like it just fell out of the sky wearing heels and confidence. Older women are dating younger men. Again. Cue the pearl-clutching. Cue the think pieces. Cue the faux concern about “power dynamics,” “biological clocks,” and whether society is “ready” for a woman who knows what she wants and doesn’t need a man who still uses the phrase “my ex ruined me.” According to the latest round of headlines, cougar relationships are hotter than ever, with older women “snatching up” eager young men half their age. Which is an interesting way to describe consenting adults meeting on dating apps, enjoying each other’s company, and not asking permission from the internet first. But let’s be clear: this isn’t a trend. It’s a correction. What’s new isn’t women dating younger men. What’s new is women doing it openly, unapologetically, and without pretending it’s a quirky phase they’ll eventually outgrow. And the ...