(The best of this post and its reblogs, but with links that work)
Here is a website where you can scroll down to all the different levels of the ocean
Here is a website where you can see the future of the universe
Here is a website where you can press a ‘make everything okay’ button, over and over, until things really are okay
Here is a website that you can read if you feel like a burden
Here is a website where you can look at strobe illusions (TW strobe/flashing)
Here is a website where you can cut stuff up (TW blood/sh)
Here and here are websites where you can play with sand
Here is a website where you can draw with macaroni and other fun foods
Here is a website where you can paint someone’s nails
Here is a website where you can grow a garden with emojis
Here is a website with hundreds of videos of people hugging you (rightfully dubbed ‘the nicest place on the internet’ because it really is, y’all, it made me cry)
Here is a website that will take you to other useless websites
Here is a website where you can make a tiny cat play bongo drums (and other instruments!)
Here is a website to help give you gentle reminders <3
Here is a website where you can grow a tiny farm
Here is a website where you can take a bunch of scientific personality tests
Some thoughts on aging and being a fan of Novak Djokovic
So--No. 25 was not to be; not this time. To be honest, I wasn't surprised by this result, especially not after what he'd said on court after Friday's heroic semifinal: "It feels like winning [the tournament] already tonight." He had beaten one of his fiercest rivals, someone who'd had the better of him five times in a row and whom many thought he would never, ever beat again. Perhaps a part of him felt he had already proven what he needed to prove. I am sure he did his very best in the final against Carlos. But sometimes one just does not have enough left in the tank for another surprise.
And so: here we are; and I'm not surprised. Still, I'm sad all the same, sadder than I thought I would be, in part because I doubt he will get such a good chance again at a 25th. He needed a lot of luck getting to the final; which is not to say he did not deserve to be in it. Being thirty-eight in a professional sport--an individual professional sport--is no joke. I'm not sure how many of you guys who joke about "grandpa" or "unc" needing to be put in a retirement home understand how remarkable, how staggering it is what he is doing, voodoo luck and Etsy witches aside. It took Lorenzo Musetti, who is twenty-three, two brutal sets to almost knock him out; Jannik Sinner, twenty-four years old, the defending champion, playing excellent tennis, could not do it in five sets. The whole tournament Novak had tape on his right shoulder, and a blister on his foot a mile large. At one of his practices before the tournament, his neck seized up and he had to stop training after ten minutes. Some of us thought he would not be able to compete. That he stood holding a finalist's plate at the end of two weeks is as much a testament to his staggering resilience as it is to his luck and, of course, his brilliance.
It would be interesting to do a census of tennisblr and see what the age distribution is. My impression is that it skews young; I don't know of lot of users who are over thirty. I'm thirty-six, to be exact: two and a half years younger than Novak. In just the last few years, I've become personally aware of the realities of aging in a way I never have before. I'll wake up with pains that won't go away over the course of next few days; I'll get tired more easily, find jet lag more difficult to overcome, get worried about strange bumps or my gums receding or my stomachaches foreboding some more serious ailment. The worst part of it isn't anything physical per se, but the sense one is running out of time. One feels, as never before, that paths are closing off and doors are being shut in one's face because of one's age. Would that I were in my twenties again, with all that time on my side, and the opportunities younger folks get--well, I am sure Novak wishes that, too. But here he is, making the best of his situation even as his body slowly wears down, continuing to put in all the work even as hope diminishes for another major title.
I was rooting for Novak this tournament because he is my guy, the guy who got me into tennis. But over the course of the three weeks I spent in Melbourne, I'd encountered many people, longtime fans and casuals, who told me they were pulling for Novak, some for the first time and some to their own surprise, because what he was doing was simply extraordinary. He was showing there is no age at which you must stop doing what you love; he was showing that in the end, it is not about collecting more trophies, continuing to beat others, but to beat your own expectations of what you can achieve at your age. Many, probably, are surprised that he would continue to compete with Sincaraz effectively barring his path to a slam title. But I had a realization while watching him in the semifinal against Jannik. It was the second set, and he had just gone up a break after dropping the first set, to the roaring elation of the crowd. This is what he trains for, I realized. Not winning, necessarily--although winning would be nice--but being in the fight; feeling that you can go mano a mano with the best in the business, and tilt that match balanced on a razor's edge in your favor with one exquisitely timed shot.
Great athletes, like great books, reveal new facets of significance to you over the years with each re-experiencing. When I first encountered Novak's tennis, seven years ago, I was in a difficult place in my life. It was seeing him save two championships points against Roger Federer in front of a hostile crowd that gave me the motivation to finish a PhD I was in serious danger of quitting. I learned about Novak's background and upbringing, his dream at an early age of becoming the best in the world in tennis; I realized that one does not achieve one's dreams by avoiding them, and resolved--after finishing my degree of course--to pursue what I'd always wanted to do from a young age: writing. Later, when I started going to tournaments, and had the privilege of watching him compete in person, I discovered a passion for photography, which in turn led to me trying art, which I never thought I could do. That I am a writer, artist, and photographer today, I owe completely to Novak, without whom I would not have had the courage to pursue my passions.
And now, in the twilight of his career, Novak is showing me what it means to do what one loves without expectation of the highest rewards, or indeed any reward. Four years after having walked away from a career I'd spent half my life training for, I have yet to become professionally successful in any of my creative pursuits. If you were to tell me I would never publish, never sell one photo or piece of art—I would still continue to write, photograph, and draw and paint. Because these are the things I love to do. Novak would do no less.
Well. I don't speak for him; I don't know how long he intends to continue playing for; but I sure hope he plays for some time yet. Indeed I expect him to. Maybe he's nicked his last victory off Jannik; maybe he will never beat Carlos again. No matter. I am betting that as soon as he has gotten back home, and has had enough rest, he will pick up that racquet again and be thinking about how to tweak that serve, how to hone his attacking forehand; because this is what he loves to do.
May we all have the strength, the courage and the passion, to be a little more like him.
Photos by me from the AO men's singles finals trophy ceremony and Novak's R4 match against Musetti. Canon R3 + EF 70-200mm f/2.8.
One thing that has made me a much more well-adjusted person is a clip I once saw of Hank Green saying that anyone can be in amazing shape as long as being in amazing shape is one of their top three priorities.
(This is obviously a generalization that isn't true for everyone. But it is true for most people and I'm proceeding from there.)
This "top three priorities" framing has genuinely reduced my tendency toward jealousy and self-comparison a lot. Now when I feel envious of someone’s spotless, aesthetic home, I think to myself, “Having a spotless, aesthetic home is probably one of their top three priorities. It’s definitely not one of mine, so I shouldn’t expect my home to look like that.”
Or when I see an influencer with a body that takes a ton of work to maintain: “Maintaining that body is obviously one of her top three priorities, because it’s her livelihood. My livelihood is my brain, so I’m never going to prioritize my body like that.”
It also helps me to identify areas that I actually DO want to prioritize more. I realized in recent years that my envy for my friends who prioritized writing more than I did was NOT going away, so I started to prioritize writing more. (Not top three, but higher priority than it has been in the past.)
Pete once said that "I had to accept that no matter how pointed, poignant and reflective I wrote, I would eventually have to hand my work over to this fuckin' war machine of a band... who would churn everything out like fuckin' Wall's sausages...!"
The absolute lack of empathy for Yoko Ono is something I will never be able to forgive people for. This woman has been villainised for 50 years for breaking up a band that was already broken up and she has her work constantly mocked and degraded. her husband was murdered in front of her, and her daughter was kidnapped with her having no way of knowing where she was or how to contact her for 30 years. She’s been treated as a cultural punching bag for half a century and has never been given any sort of grace or been treated with dignity and it makes me sick.
Band(s): Pink Floyd // Nick Mason’s Saucerful of Secrets
Propaganda:
He doesn't act the way you'd expect drummers to act- he's the most stable and the only sane man of the band, and the only one who's been there the whole time. Plus, he's a sweetheart, and coming from someone who's not a big fan of facial hair in general, he rocks a mustache like no one else can.
Keith Moon
Band(s): The Who
Propaganda:
He’s famous for his explosive antics, he inspired animal from the muppets
annaxmalina
izzy806
areudirty
kaledo-art
baratheonpilled
prguitarman
