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"The very things that made me good at school — a talent for aligning with authority, or for knowing what it wanted; a capacity for self-­estranging self-discipline; an ability to use anxiety as a fuel; an ­overidentification with established codes — were precisely the things that might render me not a writer, not a poet."

-- maureen mclane, my poets (2012), or: how i begin to narcissistically over-identify with my dissertation adviser.

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a memoriam for No. 17, in the form of spike lee photos and tweets. i wonder how spike lee is dealing with the news over lin's departure from the knicks.

spike lee, seemingly the only person capable of intelligently articulating how race plays a crucial factor in the affective experience of sports:

I do not have nearly the Garden history that you do, but Linsanity was as crazy as I have seen the Garden. That was as loud as I have ever seen the Garden. D’Antoni as an act of desperation said, “You go in.” The Lakers game, that was bananas. What I love was that Sports Illustrated cover where Jeremy Lin is going down the lane and he is surrounded by five Lakers and he is the only Knick on the cover. There are five Lakers converging on him, and he made the layup, too.

I never thought that his being Asian was the primary reason for the love for him, just one of them. That was a factor. To say that is a factor does not make you a racist. What is the guy on the Rockets?

Yao Ming. When you are seven-seven, I do not care who you are, you are a basketball player. But Lin, he went to Harvard and got cut twice. He got cut from the ­Houston Rockets on Christmas Eve.

[anthropologie-blog]

Ah, summer days. When little kids set up shop to sell lemona… er, tattoos.

Via: Jesselll | HT: Selcouth

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ovaryload.

[lau-fi]

Tavi Gevinson was privileged to receive a Slave Labia t-shirt from Tya and Nikki at the Columbus stop of her Rookie road trip last week.

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if only there existed a reverse-angle shot of this that showed what must have been a look of sheer delight on tavi gevinson's face.

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a familial genealogy of the bowl cut

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ways to make my friday: ?uestlove jumps in on the kazoo (at 0:38) in a cover of "call me maybe."

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here's to new beginnings.

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In the morning, I do either a Vitamix homemade shake or I make the Shirley Manson Special, which is a toasted English muffin on top of a bed of spinach with a piece of prosciutto and two poached eggs with a sprinkling of Parmesan, chopped spring onion, and red pepper flakes. And it's fucking delicious. Fucking killer. We have it in our dining room, where there are French doors that open out to the garden.... It's the only civilized part of my life. The rest is chaos, but breakfast is always civilized.

shirley manson, you're a class act.

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barfclays.

[dowhattowhosedog-blog-blog]

“Everytime I let Buddy and Luke outside, Luke always jumps over Buddy. I barely get the door open enough before they are both out the door. I had Nathan hold them off while I went outside to wait outside to catch this moment.”

Boing!!! It’s time to go outside and play now!! by *Caity* on Flickr.

[ilivefortheapplause]

Saturday Night Live | Kristen Wiig’s Farewell Sketch

[rookiemag]

d’awwwww.

(Also, for those of you still in high school: this is exactly what graduation is like.  Complete with Mick Jagger, Amy Poehler, Arcade Fire and hugs from Jon Hamm.  Start getting your hopes up super super high.  Higher, even.)

-Anna

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aaannndd now i'm teary-eyed on a sunday afternoon.

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one of the most satisfying Google image searches i've done in a while

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so many feelings, kstew.

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Dandelions growing on headlands, showing Their unloved hearts to everyone.

Patrick Kavanagh, "Spraying the Potatoes" (1940)

[garconniere]

the other day i was listening to the virgin suicides soundtrack and my partner said something to the effect of how it was a beautiful film about how being a teenage girl can feel so much more tragic than it is, and how it was more a film for adults than for teenage girls. i was all “HELL TO THE NO, are you fucking kidding?” and quickly remembered how much this movie meant to me when i saw it. and then i thought out loud about how i wasn’t really sure why it was so important to me at the time… and also how awkward i’ve always felt about how much i love the story of teenage girl sisters told from the perspective of a bunch of teenage boys who hardly know them (written by an adult male). for some reason though i’ve got a lot of respect for jeffrey eugenides and feel like he can tackle the stories of girls without coming off as appropriating their stories.

when arguing with my partner about the film and which audience it was intended for, this was the image that came to mind. celia in that white lace late seventies dress, and the plastic bangles covering her self-inflicted wounds. i remember the teenage girls who cropped it and used it as their livejournal icons in the early 2000s, where they talked about their (non existent and/or unrequited) lovers in the most melodramatic of ways… i remember that line about how old men could never possibly know what it was to be a thirteen year old girl.

i was a bit older than thirteen when i saw the film, 14 or 15 maybe, but i’m pretty sure i used that line on more than one occasion when someone tried to make me feel as though my feelings weren’t valid, simply because i was a young girl.

(i miss writing about movies, maybe i should make more time for that again)

(been thinking lots about girlhood lately, does it show?)

[emphasis mine]

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i'm happy to see someone doing such a great job archiving early 2000s aesthetics. i may or may not have had one of these aforementioned live journals.

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it's all in the details: the subtle differences in aubrey plaza's freeze-framed faces

[andersoncooperfans]

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Anderson and Kristen Johnston meet Meow, the 37-lb Cat. Watch Meow on Anderson Monday, April 30.

my happiness quota for the day has been filled.