Объявлено о разрушениях после одной из самых мощных атак ВСУ на Севастополь08:00
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一个人，如果不用扮演任何人，那会是什么姿态？陈思安写《木兰》时，细细地想，将军百战死，漫长的12年里，木兰害怕吗、后悔吗？第一次杀人时，她会盯住将死之人的眼睛吗？当终于能在军营和沙场从容应对时，她也被这一切改变了吗？一场战争结束后，还有另一场战争吗？世上最光彩耀眼的争夺游戏，木兰，你真的想参与吗？，详情可参考超级权重
It became relentless: that critical voice, and the burden of thousands of years of literary accomplishment. My relationship to the world was embroiled in this anxiety, too, and it struck me that the current century’s relentless presentism was a clear defense against the very same kind of anxiety. Overwhelmingly, contemporary literature and media seemed incapable of admitting to the power of the past. True, young people have always resented being told what to read, but the current fashion was to say they were right—right to bristle at the idea that there were works and histories they would have to live up to if they wanted to be great. It seemed obvious that this mass inability to square up to the inheritance and influence of the past was what really lay behind the sterility of contemporary arts and letters—a sterility many contemporary writers and artists would not even acknowledge.