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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
art blog(derogatory)
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Game of Thrones Daily
DEAR READER

Janaina Medeiros
$LAYYYTER

roma★
Today's Document
Peter Solarz

Kiana Khansmith
One Nice Bug Per Day
Sade Olutola
sheepfilms

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@highmasc
carrie underwood, #1 witch #telekinesis #dusters #witchesweardusters
i love carrie underwood bc she gets the pathos of being america’s sweetheart and she’s always singing about jesus magic
There’s six guys who live in this flat and all they do all day is play WoW and watch movies. Waking up at 2pm every day and there’s always just someone asleep on the bed near all the multimonitor computer setups. There’s always music playing and it feels like a recovery day every day, padding around blearily in pyjamas or underwear. Old hoodies from defunct school teams. They’ve got this system where they’re selling their excess computing power to companies and hosting all this warez, and they’re stealing the internet from the business next door anyway and getting welfare on top of all that. They’re self sufficient and never go outdoors except to buy more fast food, and even then only in the dark. But then one of them wakes up dead some heavy afternoon. He’s just dead and they don’t know why but maybe the floor covered in fast food wrappings is a clue. They don’t want to tell the cops because of the purgatory den they live in and the illegality that supports it, and as far as they know he never had any actual parents. So it’s trouble. It’s taking a long trip out to the forest and thinking about how stars are so far away for the first time in a long time. It’s sweating in the cold air and digging a hole all night with your brand new shovels to leave him alone in. And it’s a long few days cracking all his passwords to keep his identity and associated payments persisting. Until the rhythm of waking up every day at 2pm to play WoW for nine hours and half watch a movie on your other monitor takes over again. It’s the same as it ever was except now there’s a room no one ever goes in.
Memes, analogously to genes, vary in their aptitude to replicate; successful memes remain and spread, whereas unfit ones stall and are forgotten.
Google fails me again
Big boy pants
I love kyle abraham’s work. his movement vocabulary is really cool. combining hip hop, modern movement and also a queer aesthetic. he’s also just an incredible mover. i saw something else he made at the movement research gala last week that was just incredible.
JT BRUNS
(2008) Cast glass.
attn: dearhussy
Junot Diaz in conversation with Hilton Als…“When I think about the political unconsciousness of masculinity, it’s queerness.”…"I’m waiting for someone to ask Jonathan Franzen, ‘How does your whiteness affect your art? How does it affect your writing?’" and other gems, worth hearing in its entirety.
<3 thanx for making trans men a brief stop on your way to total misandry <3
(via Dale Cooper, Cocks, Starlets, Old Guys, Young Ones & BOUNCY BOUNCY BUM BUMS!!!)
YOUR NOSTALGIA IS KILLING ME
Vincent Chevalier with Ian Bradley-Perrin
“Strictly speaking, nostalgia does not entail the exercise of memory at all, since the past it idealizes stands outside time, frozen in unchanging perfection. Memory too may idealize the past, but not in order to condemn the present. It draws hope and comfort from the past in order to enrich the present and to face what comes…”
In the slight of hand that weaves the short and long memories of our community with the artifacts that remain and the work we do to alter our near future into our present sense of the blurred lines of our “community,” let us not drop the adaptability that we have always used to keep up with the virus that adapts so well to us. It is not the remembering and it is neither the history, nor the material culture nor the valorization of the battles won and lost that impedes our movement forward, but rather the unpinning of our past from the circumstances from which the fights were born. It is this that makes light of the impetus to resist; the gentrification of our memories and our worshipping of idols whose miracles are forgotten.
Silence=Death but the white noise humming from your latest post is keeping me up at night. Flying in two dimensions, scrolling through virtual space, virtual time, random access memories referencing deep memory held in those you find inaccessible; beneath the porch light we’ve all been circling. Do not let the dregs of our history be your horse blinders as you move through today’s world because things are different now as they were different then. Allow the history to be real and tethered to a time and place and reason such that the output is responding to today and is ready for tomorrow. Let the past sleep some such that it can be more present the choices you make on reality, not the reality itself. “Nothing’s lost forever. In this world, there is a kind of painful progress. Longing for what we’ve left behind and dreaming ahead. At least I think that’s so.”
it would probably be better if i was always wearing mascs