Rachel Gerry

1 month ago | hazlitt.net | Nour Abi-Nakhoul |Richard Warnica |Rachel Gerry |Rollie Pemberton

Depending on where you live in the world and what your principles are, the past year and a half has either been business as usual or one of the most devastating periods of your life. Israel’s relentless massacre in Gaza, which began in October 2023, was initially explained as a necessity in order to defend the settler state from the militant political group Hamas—but has continued long past the point when that excuse could hold water.

Dec 9, 2024 | hazlitt.net | Max Ufberg |Allison LaSorda |Kristen Arnett |Rachel Gerry

The old shopkeeper’s bell above the door clinked and Bill turned to see two men, one of them carrying a moderately sized cardboard box dotted with crudely carved perforations, walk into the tavern. “A car that lacks four-wheel drive has no business out here,” said the man holding the box. “A drink to wait it out doesn’t sound like the worst deal in the world,” said his companion. The first man grunted in response.

Jun 19, 2024 | hazlitt.net | Carleigh Baker |Nour Abi-Nakhoul |Rachel Gerry

Welcome to Bizarre Celebrations, a column about storytellers, craft, and everyday encounters with technology. When it was still standing, the most haunted house in Vancouver did not look the part. Its design came straight out of the city’s 1986 aesthetic of faux marble, window block turrets, and beige optimism. The driveway was always empty, the gate always closed.

Jun 12, 2024 | hazlitt.net | Rachel Gerry |Jason Kirk |Shereen Lee

“John has a theory that everyone is either a squid or an eel,” writes Elisa Gabbert in the final essay of Any Person Is the Only Self (FSG Originals). Baby squids are born entirely formed, “teeny versions of their later selves,” while eels, on the other hand, go through radical changes, and are hardly recognizable from their beginnings. “In part to test my squidness,” Gabbert takes up rereading the novels of her youth—Updike, Salinger, the works. Satisfyingly, most of them hold up—more or less.

Jun 5, 2024 | hazlitt.net | Krista Diamond |Kelly Boutsalis |Richa Kaul Padte |Rachel Gerry

I saw the tin foil on the windows of the trailer as I climbed the rusty, metal steps to the door. It was unlocked. Inside, it was dark and dusty. The smell of propane hung in the air. There was an ominous quality to the stained corduroy couch, a sense that something poisonous lay dormant in its cushions. A hulking, nonfunctional CRT television rested in the corner. In one bedroom, there was a pile of used mattresses. In the other, an empty box spring, wood panelling, a garbage bag of clothing.