Uncomfortable conversations: How W. Kamau Bell, the Fag Bug, and Malcom X taught me how to balance my rage with Gandhi moves

It’s time to have uncomfortable conversations. It’s taken me a long time to come to this. I’ve been living in the rage for so long that when it finally started to chafe, I didn’t recognize myself. And it’s not just my own rage, either. I have reveled in the fiery rants of John Stewart and…

A letter to the people who found feminism since Nov. 9

For more than a month there’s been this sensation in my chest — like being crushed from the inside. Normally my head is so full of words, I literally can’t sleep until I get them out. They dance in there like prosaic ear-worms. Lately, though, it’s been eerily quiet. The dead calm of stupefaction. All…