Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.
What do you think? Would full disclosure make us a better-informed society, or would it just end up indulging an unshakeable violence fetish in our culture? Reblog your thoughts.
So it’s either or? Really?
Reblogged from Conscientious Redux
No matter how careful you are, there’s going to be the sense you missed something, the collapsed feeling under your skin that you didn’t experience it all. There’s that fallen heart feeling that you rushed right through the moments where you should’ve been paying attention.
Well, get used to that feeling. That’s how your whole life will feel some day.
This is all practice.
None of this matters.
(from the book “Invisible Monsters” by Chuck Palahniuk)
It was done by Shane Munce @ Redrumtattoo, Media PA.Sent in by Charles R.
Reblogged from The Word Made Flesh
So when the president heaved that ragged sigh — a singular moment during in his public life since his election — or when he went silent for a few moments while talking about 9-year-old Christina Taylor-Green, you felt it in your bones. Chances are, even that “puddles in heaven” line knocked down your well-fortified wall of cynicism and kicked you right in the gut. Nationalism is idiotic and patriotism is hollow. But there are those rare, special moments when a leader hits it so far out of the park that even those who don’t usually care about the game are amazed and awed. And that, among many other reasons, is why a lot of us love this stupid, mouth-breathing, donut-chomping, oil-spilling, war-mongering, brave, loving, generous, reflective, beautifully fucked-up fever dream of a country.
Reblogged from the original joe fisher.
And while I am at it…
“I do need that time, though, for Naoko’s face to appear. And as the years have passed, the time has grown longer. The sad truth is that what I could recall in five seconds all too needed ten, then thirty, then a full minute-like shadows lengthening at dusk. Someday, I suppose, the shadows will be swallowed up in darkness. There is no way around it: my memory is growing ever more distant from the spot where Naoko used to stand-ever more distant from the spot where my old self used to stand. And nothing but scenery, that view of the meadow in October, returns again and again to me like a symbolic scene in a movie. Each time is appears, it delivers a kick to some part of my mind. “Wake up,” it says. “I’m still here. Wake up and think about it. Think about why I’m still here.” The kicking never hurts me. There’s no pain at all. Just a hollow sound that echoes with each kick. And even that is bound to fade one day. At the Hamburg airport, though, the kicks were longer and harder than usual. Which is why I am writing this book. To think. To understand. It just happens to be the way I’m made. I have to write things down to feel I fully comprehend them.”
Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everybody I’ve ever known.
“You can’t go around building a better world for people. Only people can build a better world for people. Otherwise it’s just a cage.”
My kids are starting to notice I’m a little different from the other dads. ‘Why don’t you have a straight job like everyone else?’ they asked me the other day. I told them this story: In the forest, there was a crooked tree and a straight tree. Every day, the straight tree would say to the crooked tree, ‘Look at me… I’m tall, and I’m straight, and I’m handsome. Look at you… you’re all crooked and bent over. No one wants to look at you.’ And they grew up in that forest together. And then one day the loggers came, and they saw the crooked tree and the straight tree, and they said, ‘Just cut the straight trees and leave the rest.’ So the loggers turned all the straight trees into lumber and toothpicks and paper. And the crooked tree is still there, growing stronger and stranger every day.
Reblogged from Essay 2.0
So when the president heaved that ragged sigh — a singular moment during in his public life since his election — or when he went silent for a few moments while talking about 9-year-old Christina Taylor-Green, you felt it in your bones. Chances are, even that “puddles in heaven” line knocked down your well-fortified wall of cynicism and kicked you right in the gut. Nationalism is idiotic and patriotism is hollow. But there are those rare, special moments when a leader hits it so far out of the park that even those who don’t usually care about the game are amazed and awed. And that, among many other reasons, is why a lot of us love this stupid, mouth-breathing, donut-chomping, oil-spilling, war-mongering, brave, loving, generous, reflective, beautifully fucked-up fever dream of a country.
Reblogged from the original joe fisher.
This will not be a story in which the death of the husband or wife becomes what amounts to the credit sequence for a new life, a catalyst for the discovery that (a point typically introduced in such account by the precocious child of the bereaved) “you can love more than one person.” Of course you can, but marriage is something different. Marriage is memory, marriage is time. “She didn’t know the songs,” I recall being told that a friend of a friend had said after an attempt to repeat the experience. Marriage is not only time: it is also, paradoxically, the denial of time. For forty years I saw myself through John’s eyes. I did not age. This year for the first time since I was twenty-nine I saw myself through the eyes of others.
Too many people spend money they haven’t earned, to buy things they don’t need or want, just to impress people they don’t like.
the original joe fisher.: Things that I'm able to do now that I'm vegan:
- Control animals with my mind.
- Blend in with any background to avoid predators.
- Make it through “Infinite Jest”.
- Sudoku.
- Broadcast on a sub-space frequency.
- Keep it real.
- Fuck the haters.
- Fix the heaters.
- Clean the beakers.
- Create parmesan cheese with my mind.
- Beg to differ.
- Hospital…
Makes you wonder if it’s worth it :D
Reblogged from the original joe fisher.
I’m sorry your feelings were hurt by my comments.
No, wait. I’m not. Gay kids are dying. So let’s try to keep things in perspective: Fuck your feelings.
Reblogged from the original joe fisher.
