Cryin Like a Bitch

• 2012-05-31

  We have gained reality and lost dream.

  Most of us may not believe in the story of a Devil to whom one can sell one’s soul, but those who must know something about the soul (considering that as clergymen, historians, and artists they draw a good income from it) all testify that the soul has been destroyed by mathematics and that mathematics is the source of an evil intelligence that while making man the lord of the earth has also made him the slave of his machines. The inner drought, the dreadful blend of acuity in matters of detail and indifference toward the whole, man’s monstrous abandonment in a desert of details, his restlessness, malice, unsurpassed callousness, money-grubbing, coldness, and violence, all so characteristic of our times, are by these accounts solely the consequences of damage done to the soul be keen logical thinking!

  — Robert Musil - The Man Without Qualitites

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  americanroutes:

  Arthel Lane “Doc” Watson passed away on Tuesday May 29, 2012 at a hospital in Winston-Salem, NC. He was 89 years old. This simply breaks my Southern heart. There are few people in this world that were both as talented and genuinely humble as Doc.

  I remember working as a lighting tech at a show he was performing at the North Carolina Museum of Art in Raleigh, NC in the summer of 2008. At one point, Doc was in a picking circle backstage with Riley Vargus and a number of other friends and acquaintances. Every single person on that job site - the grips, the lighting techs, the caterers, everyone - stopped working and just stood in silent awe, struck by the graceful power of his words and chords. They broke the mold when they made this man.

  Read about Doc’s music and life here.

  Good article. Also check out Windy & Warm

  (via npr)

  Source: americanroutes

• 2012-05-12

  

  Ian Webb, Verona, Italy, 2006

  (via fuckinggermans)

  Source: yama-bato

• 2012-05-06

  

  glukauf:

  A view of trawlers in the basin at Lowestoft, ca 1908.

  Source: Flickr / nationalmaritimemuseum

• 2012-05-04

  Trial scene from M (1931)

  awesome

• 2012-05-02

  

  The War of the End of the World, by: Mario Vargas Llosa

• 2012-04-30

  Source: Spotify

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  politicalprof:

  Who controls what? Because some company pretty much owns some other company, all the way down …

  From the Huffington Post. ht: ALR

  Source: politicalprof

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  How to fight riot police

  Egyptian guide on how to fight riot police. Hopefully one day soon these tactics will come in handy in the USA. It’s high time for some active resistance to the burgeoning corporate police state. 

  Highlights are page 5,6, and 7.

  “Bring spray paint so that if authorities attack, we can spray paint the visors of their helmets and the windows of their armored trucks, blocking their vision and hindering their movement.”

  Also, the pamphlet recommends a scarf or kaffiyeh to protect from tear gas, but you can buy a working Israeli gas mask for about $25 on Amazon.

• 2012-04-28

  All of this was straight out of Chekhov - and also gave me a feeling of provinciality: that there are places in the world where real life is still happening, far away from here, in a pre-Hitler Europe, where hundreds of lights are lit every evening, ladies and gentlemen gather to drink coffee with cream in oak-paneled rooms, or sit comfortably in splendid coffeehouses under gilt chandeliers, stroll arm in arm to the opera or ballet, observe from close up the lives of great artists, passionate love affairs, broken hearts, the painter’s girlfriend falling in love with his best friend the composer, and going out at midnight bareheaded in the rain to stand alone on the ancient bridge whose reflection trembles in the river.

  Things like this only happened over the hills and far away… in Paris, Alexandria, Rotterdam, Lugano, Biarritz, St. Moritz, places where godlike men fell in love, fought each other politely, lost, gave up the struggle, wandered off, sat drinking alone late at night at dimly lit bars in hotels on boulevards in rain-swept cities. And lived recklessly.

  — Amos Oz, A Tale of Love and Darkness