trying on a metaphor
One Nice Bug Per Day
Xuebing Du
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

Product Placement
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

shark vs the universe

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Kaledo Art
wallacepolsom

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noise dept.

#extradirty

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
AnasAbdin

titsay
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

seen from Japan

seen from Malaysia
seen from Belarus

seen from South Africa
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Türkiye

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Bangladesh
@booksandeverything-in-between
hey everyone "I" have something to show "you"
no offense but reading is literally the cure to brain rot and there’s no work around to reading books
dead serious normalize having an average boring ass life where you have enough to meet your needs we do not need to be remarkable we just need to be alive
the pitt incorrect quotes - 3 / ?
From last August in Victor, CO♡
In Orwell’s essay “A Hanging,” the writer watches the condemned man, walking toward the gallows, swerve to avoid a puddle. For Orwell, this represents precisely what he calls the “mystery” of the life that is about to be taken: when there is no good reason for it, the condemned man is still thinking about keeping his shoes clean. It is an “irrelevant” act (and a marvelous bit of noticing on Orwell’s part). Now suppose this were not an essay but a piece of fiction. And indeed there has been a fair amount of speculation about the proportion of fact to fiction in such essays of Orwell’s.
The avoidance of the puddle would be precisely the kind of superb detail that, say, Tolstoy might flourish; War and Peace has an execution scene very close in spirit to Orwell’s essay, and it may well be that Orwell basically cribbed the detail from Tolstoy. In War and Peace, Pierre witnesses a man being executed by the French, and notices that, just before death, the man adjusts the blindfold at the back of his head, because it is uncomfortably tight. The avoidance of the puddle, the fiddling with the blindfold—these are what might be called irrelevant or superfluous details. They are not explicable; in fiction, they exist to denote precisely the inexplicable. This is one of the “effects” of realism, of “realistic” style.
But Orwell’s essay, assuming it records an actual occurrence, shows us that such fictional effects are not merely conventionally irrelevant, or formally arbitrary, but have something to tell us about the irrelevance of reality itself (…) There was no logical reason for the condemned man to avoid the puddle. It was pure remembered habit. Life, then, will always contain an inevitable surplus, a margin of the gratuitous, a realm in which there is always more than we need: more things, more impressions, more memories, more habits, more words, more happiness, more unhappiness.
— JAMES WOOD, from How Fiction Works.
What exactly do these irrational standards mean? They mean the supremacy of the detail over the general, of the part that is more alive than the whole, of the little thing which a man observes and greets with a friendly nod of the spirit while the crowd around him is being driven by some common impulse to some common goal. I take my hat off to the hero who dashes into a burning house and saves his neighbor’s child; but I shake his hand if he has risked squandering a precious five seconds to find and save, together with the child, its favorite toy. I remember a cartoon depicting a chimney sweep falling from the roof of a tall building and noticing on the way that a sign-board had one word spelled wrong, and wondering in his headlong flight why nobody had thought of correcting it. In a sense, we all are crashing to our death from the top story of our birth to the flat stones of the churchyard and wondering with an immortal Alice in Wonderland at the patterns of the passing wall. This capacity to wonder at trifles — no matter the imminent peril — these asides of the spirit, these footnotes in the volume of life are the highest forms of consciousness, and it is in this childishly speculative state of mind, so different from commonsense and its logic, that we know the world to be good.
— VLADIMIR NABOKOV, from Lectures on Literature.
"you cannot have a category of person that stops being a person or everyone that someone wants to get rid of is going to end up being put in that category" and other really fucking obvious and basic observations that everyone ignores in favor of putting people they want to get rid of into a category they think makes them stop being a person
If you start reading books again, you’ll feel at least a little better. I promise.
the way the gay hockey and the dramatic hospital fandoms are speed running a fandom implosion should be studied in a lab
why not have the reader re-read a sentence now and then? it won't hurt him....
Grietje Postma, 1992-I, woodcut
Sa Pa, Lào Cai Province, Northwest Vietnam
emilie.hofferber