Wednesday, 7 October 2026
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Mores

The text of a clay tablet: a letter to his mother from a son who complains that she does not buy him fine clothes, while the clothes of the other young gentlemen grow finer with every passing year

Archaeology · Archive · The East · Observations · Mores · Humour

The text of a clay tablet: a letter to his mother from a son who complains that she does not buy him fine clothes, while the clothes of the other young gentlemen grow finer with every passing year

The boy cites the son of his father's assistant, who has two new sets of clothes. "Even though you bore me, and his mother merely adopted him, his mother loves him, and you do not love me!" 3,500 years have passed, and so little has

By Alexandr Radayev
A post-Soviet person, raised in a standard-issue flat behind an iron door with three locks, itself set over a wooden door upholstered in leatherette, with a bolt, a latch and a little hook, cannot grasp the true horror of American films, in which the most

Cinema · Observations · Mores · Humour

A post-Soviet person, raised in a standard-issue flat behind an iron door with three locks, itself set over a wooden door upholstered in leatherette, with a bolt, a latch and a little hook, cannot grasp the true horror of American films, in which the most

A post-Soviet person, raised in a standard-issue flat behind an iron door with three locks, itself set over a wooden door upholstered in leatherette, with a bolt, a latch and a little hook, cannot grasp the true horror of American films, in which the most terrifying things (a

By Alexandr Radayev