holy shit, it’s Ready Player One for race scientists
He was giving knight errant, organ-meat eater, Byronic hero, Haplogroup Rlb. She was giving damsel in distress, pill-popper pixie dream girl, Haplogroup K. He was in his fall of Rome era. She was serving sixth and final mass extinction event realness. His face was a marble statue. Her face was an anime waifu. They scrolled into each other. If they could have, they would have blushed, pink pixels on a screen. Monkey covering eyes emoji. Anime nosebleed GIF. Henlo frend. hiii.
Here’s The Cut puff piece on Levy which just mentions in passing her podcast with Curtis Yarvin.
anyway, nice to know they’re still trying to make Dimes Square a thing
I kind of wish that she and I could meet. I’d stare deep into her eyes, take her hand in mine, drop my voice into the register that Grandpa Stacey used in his decades of hosting radio, and intone, “Your brain is where insight goes to die.”