December 2010
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adomania
dictionaryofobscuresorrows:
n. the crushing sense that the future is arriving ahead of schedule, that all those years with fanciful names like “2011” are bursting from their hypothetical cages into the arena of the present, furiously bucking the grip of your expectations while you lean and slip in your saddle, one hand reaching for reins, the other waving up high like a schoolkid who finally...
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tulletulle:
today a kid in my english class was like “hey tavi, why isn’t there riot MAN?” and i was like “uh because practically everything else in rock is riot man?”
and it reminded me of the time in history when this kid was like “why isn’t there a course for MEN’s history?” and i was like “uh you’re taking it”
Last sentence.
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Off the record →
bobulate:
Chuck Klosterman interviews Jonathan Franzen on an Acela between Philadelphia and Washington, D.C.:
… I allow him to give his answer off the record. During the three minutes my recorder is off, he provides one of the most straightforward, irrefutable, and downright depressing answers I’ve ever experienced in an interview. His posture relaxes. His language simplifies. Nothing is...
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“Like, I’m a grown man, with a refined palate and no great love for sweets,...”
– I love Max Silvestri’s Top Chef recaps so very much. I can’t stop laughing at “You needn’t have bothered”.
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Public Syarvice Announcement: The 'Y' in my name...
I’m sorry I never told you before.
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“This is another thing about Strong Women: We like them considerably more when...”
– Ellen Ripley Saved My Life by Sady Doyle for The Awl.
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Descent of Species
an excerpt from David Eagleman’s Sum: Forty Tales from the Afterlives
In the afterlife, you are treated to a generous opportunity: you can choose whatever you would like to be in the next life. Would you like to be a member of the opposite sex? Born into royalty? A philosopher with bottomless profundity? A soldier facing triumphant battles? But perhaps you’ve just returned here from a...
On the joy of jumping
spaceships:
bobulate:
In David Eagleman’s Sum, 40 tales about afterlife, he reshuffles and organizes all life’s experiences into a new order, grouping all like-moments together:
You spend two months driving the street in front of your house, seven months having sex. You sleep for thirty years without opening your eyes. For five months straight you flip through magazines while sitting on a...
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Distant Star by Sharanya Manivannan
You slid a pin into my body and brooched me at a distance, a dwarf star snared against a night on the other side of the universe, imagining yourself a lapidary, setting diamond upon obsidian, holding your tongue so that the hooks in your mouth would not fall. You believe you sleep the sleep of the guiltless, but it is only the sleep of the damned, and on the day when you wake to the...
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Keeping The Change by Sharanya Manivannan
In the French Quarter I wrote you love poems in yellow ochre, unscrolled them like a trellis of bougainvillea, paper petals too intense to abandon, too fragile to keep. How many shots of thirty rupee citrus vodka could we get for a ten dollar bill? Everywhere we went you told them to keep the change, placing it palm-down back on the table, so when I picked up your hand to...
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“In New York, I find I am less watchful, less greedy, less restless. Besides, I...”
– Speaking in Tongues by Mary HK Choi at The Opinionator
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