DM Stith - Abraham’s Song (Bibio Remix)
When Books Could Change Your Life: Why What We Pore Over At 12 May Be The Most Important Reading We Ever Do
There’s something alarming about this. I don’t want to believe that our personalities ossify so much in adulthood that we’re no longer capable of being changed by art. But part of the reason art loses its power over us, of course, is, simply and sadly, that we get old; our personalities, as soft, impressionable, and tempting as freshly poured sidewalk cement when young, gradually set and harden over the years with whatever graffiti passers-by scrawled there still indelibly inscribed in it. But when a 14-year-old gushes that the Twilight series are the best books she’s ever read in her whole life, it’s easy for grownups to forget that this is not necessarily hyperbole. At that age, we haven’t heard any clichés, and even dumb ideas are new.
It’s such a strange moment that descends upon the room when two people who are quite alone realize that they have the ability to go to dizzyingly new places, that they have the freedom to act on whatever urge they wish to. If he wanted to, his arms could be around her. If she wanted to, her lips could be in between his. If they wanted to, they could drop into a sea of utter magnificence, gut-wrenchingly tremulous and life-sustainingly rich. And both know that it’s not entirely in the capitulation to these desires and whims, this freedom, that the heavy moment permeates the room. They both know that if they want to keep feeling as in love as they do at that moment in time, they’ve got to stay cusped on that precipice teetering between the sweaty heap—the kissing of eyelashes and toe-tops, terrorist sighs—and the door.
When that moment ends and you’ve walked away, your lips unbruised and your hair untousled; when you’re in the car. The silence of old upholstery is very similar to the color of darkness.
The philtrum (Greek φιλτρον philtron, from φιλειν philein ‘to love; to kiss’), also known as the infranasal depression, is the vertical groove in the upper lip, formed where the nasomedial and maxillary processes meet during embryonic development. It has no apparent function besides its visual prominence.Sometimes etymologies of words make me smile inside (via Wikipedia).
Ra Ra Riot - Winter ‘05
Like a bunch of other bands, I’m very late to the Ra Ra Riot party (I’m an awful, lazy hipster). But I’ve become really obsessed with them as of late. This song, had it existed during the winter of 2005, may have actually gotten me through that time a little better.
My friend’s cousin found this list on the floor of the third-grade classroom in a DC charter school. The title is “Types of Bitches.” It’s a taxonomy of 90 different “types of bitches,” in hilarious detail. She scanned it and sent it along. I’ve put it up on a Flickr set here.
(via Boing Boing)
(via ledger)
"We Went to a ChatRoulette Party Last Night"
“Am I on some big fucking screen right now?” asked one very red-eyed, mop-haired boy staring into his screen after a few minutes of quiet conversation. “Is this a show of some sort?” asked another. “This is definitely more creepy than all of the penises I’ve seen.”
Union Hall, where this Chatroulette party took place, was the same bar that I tried to get into when I was in Brooklyn over New Year’s. Their cover was $25, so we said fuck it and went to the High Dive instead. Maybe it would have been worth it if they’d been having a Chatroulette party then.
wearehumanafterall asked: you already dropped the ball on your photoblog! c'mon!
I’ve got one for March 1st (when I started it) and March 2nd (yesterday). I can post the photo any time during the day, can I not?
One photo per day takes some exercise in patience, I’ve noticed ;)
I’m glad that you were anticipating it, though!