We see the worst of people up in their palace
I'm where it's commonplace to remain unbalanced
I've seen you wandering consumed by revenge
There you go, there you go
We see the void expand and multiply malice
When will we recognize that nothing can kill us
I've seen you mumbling something you once heard
There we were, there we were
Recommendations
11/25/2020
08/07/2020
Purchasing music from Bandcamp, especially on the first Friday of the month when they waive fees: https://isitbandcampfriday.com/
08/06/2020
Learn to say “Fuck you” to the world. You have every right to stop thinking, worrying, looking over your shoulder, wondering, doubting, fearing, hurting, hoping for some easy way out, struggling, grasping, confusing … And stop worrying about big, deep things such as “to decide on a purpose and way of life, a consistent approach to even some impossible end…” You must practice being stupid, dumb, unthinking, empty. Then you will be able to DO.
From: https://www.the-tls.co.uk/articles/a-manifestation-of-an-idea/
08/05/2020
The words have been stuck in my head more frequently as of late:
This is not
the life
that I
was promised.08/02/2020
Yeah, I should've known
How hopeless this life could really be
Yeah, I should've known
26 dogs all barking at me
26 dogs all barking at me
26 dogs all barking at me
26 dogs all barking at me
At me07/26/2020
Knowing’s led to what I know
It comes and then it goes
Unknowing’s what I’ve grownArguments aside
It’s just a life
Dusk gives way to night
Then holds the lightFelt a pain and let it last
Let it grow with goodness andFuture present,
Future passed07/04/2018
07/03/2018
http://www.joshuaprager.com/articles/inside-baseball/
Mr. Branca hurt his back during spring training of 1952 and won just 12 games the rest of his career. He retired at 30 and lives in Westchester County, N.Y. He has long been a partner at an insurance and financial-planning company and today is chairman of the Baseball Assistance Team, which supports indigent former Major Leaguers.
“What’s it like to have to live with one awful moment?” wonders Mr. DeLillo in his novel. “Forever plodding across the outfield grass on your way to the clubhouse.”
A few years after surrendering baseball’s most famous home run, Mr. Branca heard talk that the Giants were stealing signs in 1951. “When I heard those rumors and innuendoes,” says Mr. Branca, now 75, “I made a decision not to speak about it.” He adds, “I didn’t want to look like I was crying over spilled milk.”
In 1962, an Associated Press article reported that a spy in the clubhouse helped the Giants win the pennant in 1951, but the story relied on an anonymous source and was vague. Soon after the story appeared, sportscaster Howard Cosell asked Mr. Branca to comment on it, but the pitcher demurred.
Over the years, as Messrs. Branca and Thomson rubbed elbows at countless functions, posed together with President Nixon and co-signed the sweet spots of baseball after baseball, the pitcher said nothing of sign stealing. “Bobby and I are really, really good friends,” Mr. Branca says. “He still hit the pitch.”06/30/2018
06/26/2018
https://www.nytimes.com/2018/06/26/magazine/jonathan-franzen-is-fine-with-all-of-it.html
Here is another thing about birds: They don’t care about people. They don’t interact with them, and yet they are totally accurate seismographs for people’s behavior. They reflect us without coming anywhere near us.
In March, a year after we first met, as the world grappled with the ravages and betrayals of social media and a friend and I began keeping track of people who constantly updated Twitter with news from their Twitter sabbaticals, Franzen published a story about birds in National Geographic to kick off the magazine’s Year of the Bird. “CBS This Morning” went to Santa Cruz to look at birds with him for the occasion. He told the reporter how to spot the birds using the binoculars, to keep the eyes on the bird and bring the binoculars to her face so she could quickly refocus. She yelped with joy at the sight of two sleeping owls, and Franzen’s face became the smiley, delightful thing it occasionally does when someone seems to understand. He told her that the first time he was taken bird-watching, he had a similar reaction. “The scales had fallen from my eyes,” he said. “It was like being introduced to sex.” An hour later, The Cut ran a short piece titled “We Regret to Inform You That Jonathan Franzen Has Compared Birdwatching to Sex.”
But Franzen never saw it. He was in Santa Cruz, his own Brigadoon. He was preparing the nonfiction book of essays, which will be called “The End of the End of the Earth,” coming to bookstores in November. He was talking to Showtime again about doing “Purity” as a shorter capsule series.06/24/2018
06/23/2018
06/22/2018
06/20/2018
06/07/2018
06/07/2018
04/29/2018
04/24/2018
04/23/2018
04/13/2018
04/08/2018
http://www.nybooks.com/daily/2018/03/07/the-death-and-life-of-a-great-american-building/
Koehler sees patients who might not otherwise find a clinician in private practice. Some are homeless. One of them slept on Broadway, right outside the building, and was always welcomed in by the security guard. “This was the kind of place where I could see people like that,” Koehler says. “I’ve been able to see poor people in my practice because my rent wasn’t high.” “I love the people in the building,” she says. “It’s not corporate. It feels human.” Like other tenants, she describes the St. Denis as an exception, a staunch holdout against the rising tide of hyper-capitalism in the city. “What we’re all doing here is taking care of other people,” Garde says. “We’re all trying to make a better world. People come here with their stories and open up to tell those stories. It’s big. This building has so much energy inside its walls. And that energy is shaking.”
04/05/2018
03/29/2018
03/27/2018
03/24/2018
03/10/2018
02/01/2018
01/17/2018
12/22/2017
12/16/2017
12/10/2017
11/17/2017
04/30/2017
04/23/2017
04/05/2017
03/14/2017
08/07/2016