little fictions

my blog is a mess of random things please give me time to organize it

[afroui]

I don’t wish I was in your arms, I just wish I was peddling a bicycle towards your arms.

Jeffrey McDaniel (via afroui)

[visitor-q]

[code82871819]

Visit Original Link

“Tonight You Belong to Me” - Steve Martin & Bernadette Peters

[martinslewis-deactivated2015092]

Visit Original Link

Manhattan - Blossom Dearie

[putyourredlipson]

Foxygen - San Francisco

[dailymarx]

In true democracy the political state disappears.

Marx - Critique of Hegel 1843 (via dailymarx)

[thisishangingrockcomics-deactiv]

There’s more to life than feeling sorry for yourself and that’s, really too bad

[xyprogramming]

Two streams of water colliding.

[Click for more interesting science facts and gifs] 

[years-of-indiscretion]

The Doctrine Of An Axe

Of all times, now is not the time, given the world’s old vague condition,

to hang in my mind the plumb-bob weight of original sin and watch it twist

around like a tire at the end of a rope looped over a tree branch. Once

my sister came within a hair of getting bit by a snake asleep

in the tire she’d hooped around herself. She was wearing a dress, my friend, just home

from church; her patent leather shoes kicked at the air just twice before

she shed the tire and screamed. I chopped the copperhead to pieces. What kind of

parents allow their child to play with an axe? Well mine, I suppose. I made

them proud that day. The sin was how I let myself be proud, a pride

that wore like whitewash from a fence. Now you might think I’m being stern

and unforgiving. After all, I was only six and could not have known

about sin. But I did; I knew it like a nursery rhyme, or the Now I Lay Me

bedtime prayer. I once got drunk on a Sunday morning; I don’t know

if that was sinful, but it proved that nothingness is absolute,

a naked shameful nothing left beneath the shade tree in my heart,

the rusted axehead long since stuck and buried in its trunk, a bone

caught in its living throat, a wound I made in its side and can’t undo.

We should both be doing something good; we should be kind to someone now.

Maurice Manning

[soycrates]

[prostheticknowledge]

Artificial ███████ Machine

Data installation by Polygon Future presents info on drone strikes with toy gunshots and details printed in receipt paper:

Artificial Killing Machine is an autonomous interactive mechanical installation.  This time based work accesses a public database on U.S. military drone strikes.  When a drone strike occurs, the machine activates, and fires a children’s toy cap gun for every death that results.  The raw information used by the installation is then printed.  The materialized data is allowed to accumulate in perpetuity or until the life cycle of either the database or machine ends.  A single chair is placed beneath the installation inviting the viewers to sit in the chair and experience the imagined existential risk.  

More Here

[vjeranski]

Mid-Ocean Mid-Winter, 1876

John Singer Sargent

[asmsalib]

Moon, Mercury, Jupiter, Mars  / Credit & Copyright: Mike Salway

Purgatory, the Sequel They put him in jail, why we don’t know. They stamped him “Postponed.” But he didn’t mind. The screws were almost kind. He had leisure to get his muscles toned, mental space to regret his crimes, and when he wasn’t fabricating license plates he was free to remember the beauty that not once but a thousand times escaped him forever, and escapes me, too: ghosts of a mist drifting across the face of the stars, Jupiter triangulating with the crescent moon and Mars, prismatic fracturings in a drop of dew… –Vijay Seshadri, 2014 Pulitzer Prize in Poetry winner from 3 Sections  (Graywolf Press)

[memorabilescriptu]

"Superman Agonistes"

by Vijay Seshadri

“When my X-ray eyes look through the humans to the need inside, glowing red and green, my blood cells collide,

my lungs collapse, my cortex rebels, and my heart wraps a bomb around itself

and threatens to kill us both. But I can’’t stay away. I have to fly down to watch them pray,

to watch them couple, to watch them fight, exposing myself to their kryptonite.”

[bostonpoetryslam]

if there is something in this world I love more than you I am terrified of its face

Caroline Crew, “the silver answer rang,” published in Alice Blue Review (via bostonpoetryslam)

[exitsmiling]

Victor Hussenot

[sarcolinedream-deactivated20181]

Half the fun of travel is the aesthetic of lostness.

Ray Bradbury (via sarcolinedream)