"when a woman dresses up for an occasion, the man should become the black velvet pillow for the jewel." /john weitz -- men always look identical at fancy occasions: very good, but uniform. these woman arrest my attention:
they'll never let you perform in the pageant naked--i already asked.
every passing minute is another chance to turn it all around.
you're famous for your mud? how's your chinese food? (and natalie portman on the right.) -- "art is not an end in itself, but a means of addressing humanity." /modest mussorgsky
"the more horrifying this world becomes, the more art becomes abstract." /paul klee
"writing and reading decrease our sense of isolation. they deepen and widen and expand our sense of life: they feed the soul. when writers make us shake our heads with the exactness of their prose and their truths, and even make us laugh about ourselves or life, our buoyancy is restored. we are given a shot at dancing with, or at least clapping along with, the absurdity of life, instead of being squashed by it over and over again. it’s like singing on a boat during a terrible storm at sea. you can’t stop the raging storm, but singing can change the hearts and spirits of the people who are together on that ship." /anne lamott, bird by bird --
i like the places where the night does not mean an end where smiles break free and surpirse is your friend and dancing goes on in the kitchen until dawn to my favorite song that has no end
"no one can do me any good by loving me; i have more love than i need or could do any good with; but people do me good by making me love them--which isn't easy." /john ruskin --
here is the original script for eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, written by charlie kaufman.
Most of Munch’s figures are not mad, but paralyzed by oceanic feelings of grief, jealousy, desire or despair that many people found shocking either for their eroticism, crude style or intimations of mental instability. We see his subjects alone, in couples or small groups in settings whose opulent colors and odd forms, whether indoors or out, are always removed from reality, located in some artificial, stripped down place where color, feeling and form resonate in visual echo chambers. -- for centuries, flowers have carried coded messages. a dark rose, for instance, symbolized bashful shame; a foxglove, deceit. but the rules of love have shifted, and our floriography needs modernizing as well. jason logan illustrates some updated meanings for the flowers you'll be sending (or receiving) on valentine's day.
stereogum prematurely reviewed junior boys' newest album, "begone dull care." i had it on repeat for a number of hours before i actually committed my full attention to it, and at that point the listening experience transformed from something like hearing the pleasant, background white noise of a busy city at night to listening for individual nuances of sound and lyrics that the junior boys are so good at layering and arranging. "begone dull care" certainly isn't a departure from any of their previous catalogue; rather, it's the latest effort from a couple guys who keep getting better at making the music they make, and from that, it follows that this album would be their best to date. i'm not a fan of "last exit," no matter how many times i listen to it. "so this is goodbye" is worlds better (and worlds away), in my opinion. it's just a different kind of music from one to the next, but "begone dull care" is more of an extension of their previous album. early favorites include "what it's for," a fluid, futuristic gondola ride kind of song complete with about a minute and a half of droning at the end; "parallel lines," in which a sardonic, unrequited lover bemoans, "it's alright to say it just as long as you don't really think so;" "bits & pieces," a fully danceable, synthy loop of cymbals and dub beats circling around the premise of banging at the end of the night ("i see you move / i see you better when the lights are out"); and "dull to pause," which reminds me a lot of elliott smith's "in the lost and found" in that the lyrics are actually quite morose and wistful, but juxtaposed with a jolly, jaunty melody suitable for biking around on a spring day. i love that a lot of the junior boys' catalogue is like that--bummer lyrics about last goodbyes and lost girls set against the finest electronic beats this side of diplo.
-- steve jobs introduces the first ipod ever:
sony releases new stupid piece of shit that doesn't fucking work:
-- music from various musikblags that i'm really digging lately, without any semblance of coherence in theme or thought to tie them together, except they all make muh body groove in one way or another: