Dear Maraclara

Dear Maraclara: The Ignorance That Started the Fire

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**Dear Maraclara,** Why don’t I know anything? **—Sai** — **Oh, Sai**, you sweet, singed sapling of confusion—corduroy is not a phase, it’s armor, and the fact that you feel draped in nothing but question marks means you’ve only just donned your first piece. Why don’t you know anything? Because nobody taught you to taste knowledge … Read more

Dear Maraclara: A Letter to the Lost, the Livid, and the Likely to Explode

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*By Miss Malaclara Weatherfax* Children, If you are reading this, then congratulations: your soul still itches. The Clacks found you. Or you found the Clacks. Either way, it means you haven’t yet succumbed to the mass-induced stupor of polite society, decorative outrage, and those abominable oat milk lattes they sell in cities that no longer … Read more