WE NEVER WIN THE FREEDOMS WE THINK WE'RE GOING TO WIN

Saw Angela Davis today--there is nothing more inspiring than being in the presence of a huge badass, especially when that badass so eloquently ties together Haiti, Hegel, and the prison-industrial complex.


There is so much I want to read! There is so much I want to do!

LET'S GET WEIRD

me: hahaha

yeah

i saw it

and decided that the closest thing i had to it was chocolate chips straight out of the bag

so that's what i've been eating

Arvind: hahaha

right before you sent this

i got a spoonful of peanut butter

me: i think i'm the saddest looking human being on the planet right now

Arvind: and covered it in chocolate syrup

me: HAHAHAHA

YOU WIN

Oh God I am so tired.

This is my day in MousePath.

The telephone becomes an instrument of torture in the demonic hands of a beloved who doesn't call.

--Alain de Botton, On Love

SO WHAT IF THE INTERNET HAS TURNED EACH DAY INTO A PANIC-RIDDEN INFORMATIONAL HOT-DOG-EATING CONTEST?

And I do, I spend enormous, unjustifiable amounts of time simply gorging on information. The worst of it is that I seem to need more and more, but the equipment I am using is too slow, it’s positively lumbering. No way can my head handle the rate at which I am trying to shove stuff in; the evidence of that is conclusive. I can never remember how to spell Aung San Suu Kyi. A Canadian friend ribs me for knowing so little about the Harper government. I still haven’t read today’s newsletters from Salon, japantoday.com, or The New Yorker. The books in this house are evidently multiplying on their own. It takes me forever to read even a newspaper article in Spanish, let alone Roberto Bolaño like I’m supposed to be doing.

--Maria Bustillos, In Praise of High-Speed Overload

CHINKISSES

Before:

After:

The Night of the Chinkiss will live in infamy. I really enjoy being young and dumb.

Basically I was in that state in which a man realizes that everything he sees will outlast him. As a verbal construction I know that's a cliche. As a state in which to actually be, though, it's something else, believe me.

--David Foster Wallace, Good Old Neon

When I was a small child, acting snotty and picky (as small children are wont to do) and unwilling to eat the dishes my mommy placed in front of me, she would often let me indulge in just this: a bowl of buttered jasmine rice with lime pickle. I've eaten it a lot the past week. It's cheap and reminds me of East Lansing, Michigan--therefore it is the perfect meal.