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Phoebe Kolbert

Articles

  • 1 week ago | thebollard.com | Al Diamon |Samuel James |Elizabeth Peavey |Phoebe Kolbert

    The Coming FirestormOn the bus to Philadelphia at dusk, I am listening to Norman Greenbaum’s “Spirit in the Sky,” thinking, as I always do when listening to that song, about how a man who grew up Orthodox Jewish might have come to write such a banger Christian anthem.

  • Feb 2, 2025 | thebollard.com | Phoebe Kolbert |Samuel James |Al Diamon |Leo Hylton

    Me and Kiki shortly before we were almost eaten by a bear in Brownfield a few falls ago. photo/Kiki GarfieldYear 20The Bollard was born 20 winters ago as an underground publication, by which I mean literally beneath the surface of Earth. There were advantages to starting underground. It’s relatively warm down there this time of year (especially around the furnace), the beers were cheap and the landlord let us smoke.

  • Jan 5, 2025 | thebollard.com | Phoebe Kolbert

    Go back to MarsI don’t know if you all remember this — I know I’ve written about it several times — but about five years ago, when we published that article about Maine Facebook Nazis [“Hatebook,” Dec. 2019], some mofos mailed disinformation packets smearing this magazine to all of its advertisers. I was labeled a man-hating lesbian, and not for the first time. Clearly it’s stuck in my mind. But I think it is worth revisiting after the election. I’m ready to admit something: I do dislike most men.

  • Nov 11, 2024 | thebollard.com | Phoebe Kolbert |Samuel James |Al Diamon |Edgar Allen Beem

    Scent MemoriesThere are lots of interesting, exciting, and incredibly scary things going on in the world, and I have benign opinions on them all. At one point I would’ve shared those opinions with you, but — and I’m choosing to view this as progress rather than laziness — I now know I have nothing to add.

  • Jun 2, 2024 | thebollard.com | Phoebe Kolbert |Todd Russell |Leo Hylton |Al Diamon

    My Almost Old SchoolI’m finally graduating from college on the 19th of this month, and my grandparents already got me a watch, counting their chickens before they’ve hatched. I am going to be, perhaps oddly, very relieved to not have to write a paper ever again. I can, begrudgingly, admit I will miss school, and at points I’m sure I’ll feel its absence deeply.

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