Game Changer & Make Some Noise
gracie abrams
if i look back, i am lost
Sade Olutola
$LAYYYTER
noise dept.
Jar Jar Binks Fan Club
Interview Vampire Daily
Product Placement
ellievsbear
taylor price
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Discoholic 🪩
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Origami Around
KIROKAZE
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pixel skylines
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official daine visual archive
seen from South Korea
seen from Kazakhstan
seen from Denmark
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seen from Belgium
seen from Türkiye
seen from Ecuador
seen from T1
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@the-immortal-bawd
There was nothing particularly striking about them except that they were artists of the kind that talk. Everyone knows of the talking artists. Throughout all of the known history of the world they have gathered in rooms and talked. They talk of art and are passionately, almost feverishly, in earnest about it. They think it matters much more than it does.
Winesburg, Ohio -- Sherwood Anderson
Time out of mind strength and courage have been the theme of bards and romances; and from the story of Troy down to today, poetry has always chosen a soldier for a hero. I wonder is it because men are cowards in heart that they admire bravery so much, and place military valor so far beyond every other quality for reward and worship?
Vanity Fair -- William Makepeace Thackeray
So, it’s been quite a long time since I posted a lit update. I finished the Bandini Quartet by Fante, read Don Quixote, read Pale Fire by Nabokov, read the VALIS trilogy by Philip K. Dick, and now I’m about to start Barabbas by Par Lagerkvist. Also I read Understanding Power by Noam Chomsky and I’m about to start Of Grammatology by Derrida.
That is high art: 'The world is awful.' That says it all. This is what we pay composers and painters and the great writers to do: tell us this, from figuring this out, they earn a living. What a masterful, incisive insight. What penetrating intelligence. A rat in a drain ditch could tell you the same thing, were it able to talk. If rats could talk, I'd do anything they said.
The Transmigration of Timothy Archer -- Philip K. Dick
If there is vicarious pain in knowing, there is actual peril in not knowing. In aversion lies a colossal risk.
The Transmigration of Timothy Archer -- Philip K. Dick
God is a symptom of power, nothing else.
The Divine Invasion -- Philip K. Dick
The distinction between sanity and insanity is narrower than the razor's edge, sharper than a hound's tooth, more agile than a mule deer. It is more elusive than the merest phantom. Perhaps it does not even exist; perhaps it is a phantom.
VALIS -- Philip K. Dick
Destroy my desires, eradicate my ideals, show me something better, and I will follow you.
Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Notes from the Underground (via fyp-philosophy)
I finished Moby-Dick, and I’m now going to start John Fante’s Bandini Quartet.
Thus each of us had to be content to live only for the day, alone under the vast indifference of the sky.
Albert Camus (tr. Stuart Gilbert), The Plague (via fleetling)
30 October. Feeling of complete helplessness. The impenetrable outline of human bodies is horrible. The wonder, the riddle of my not having perished already, of the silent power guiding me. It forces one to this absurdity: left to my own resources, I should have long ago been lost.
Franz Kafka, Diaries (via kafkas-diaries)
“All things become less real, man passes From unreality to unreality. This man is obstinate, blind, intent On self-destruction. Passing from deception to deception, From grandeur to grandeur to final illusion, Lost in the wonder of his own greatness, The enemy of society, enemy of himself.”
-- T.S. Eliot -- Murder in the Cathedral
You cannot hide the soul.
Moby-Dick -- Herman Melville
Yes, there is death in this business of whaling-- a speechlessly quick chaotic bundling of a man into Eternity. But what then? Methinks we have hugely mistaken this matter of Life and Death. Methinks that what they call my shadow here on earth is my true substance. Methinks that in looking at things spiritual, we are too much like oysters observing the sun through the water, and thinking that thick water the thinnest of air. Methinks my body is but the lees of my better being. In fact, take my body who will, take it I say, it is not me.
Moby-Dick -- Herman Melville
In what census of living creatures, the dead of mankind are included; why it is that a universal proverb says of them, that they tell no tales, though containing more secrets than the Goodwin Sands; how it is that to his name who yesterday departed for the other world, we prefix so significant and infidel a word, and yet do not thus entitle him, if he but embarks for the remotest Indies of this living earth; why the Life Insurance Companies pay death-forfeitures upon immortals; in what eternal, unstirring paralysis, and deadly, hopeless trance, yet lies antique Adam who died sixty round centuries ago; how it is that we still refuse to be comforted for those who we nevertheless maintain are dwelling in unspeakable bliss; why all the living so strive to hush all the dead; wherefore but the rumor of a knocking in a tomb will terrify a whole city. All these things are not without their meanings.
Moby-Dick -- Herman Melville
Yes, these eyes are windows, and this body of mine is the house. What a pity they didn't stop up the chinks and the crannies though, and thrust in a little lint here and there. But it's too late to make any improvements now. The universe is finished; the copestone is on, and the chips were carted off a million years ago.
Moby-Dick -- Herman Melville
Finished Boccaccio’s Decameron today and I’ll probably start Moby-Dick next since it’s just been lingering on my shelf forever
