A poem compresses much in a small space and adds music, thus heightening its meaning. The city is like poetry: it compresses all life, all races and breeds, into a small island and adds music and the accompaniment of internal engines. The island of Manhattan is without any doubt the greatest human concentrate on earth, the poem whose magic is comprehensible to millions of permanent residents but whose full meaning will always remain elusive.
E. B. White in Here Is New York
Song: “Manhattan” by Cat Power
Guys, look at how disappointed Jayne is. His OTP was *so close* to becoming canon.
While Wash is just like #I am 5000% done with this ship
He was certainly done with the ship at the end.
I HATE YOU GO AWAY
It’s a fascinating word, right? It’s fluid and multi-directional, and nearly always ends up saying more about the person who says it then the person it’s said about. Only one thing about its usage remains constant, which is the (iron-clad and ironic) rule that the more you call other people…
Except now they tell me, “1998.” And I’m like, “And you’re potty trained? That’s wonderful.”
“There is no reason why good cannot triumph as often as evil. The triumph of anything is a matter of organization. If there are such things as angels, I hope that they are organized along the lines of the Mafia.”
-Kurt Vonnegut, Sirens of Titan
|—||Me, pretending to be one of those inspirational-quote people so I can tell myself what I need to hear (via becausegoodbye)|
A lot of talk about romance and relationships is infested with metaphors of power (“having hand”, “under thumb”, that kind of thing), which ends up having a lot of influence over what those relationships are actually like. If you think of a relationship in a particular way — say, through metaphors…
Grimes - Oblivion
My favourite thing about this (and there are a lot) is that Claire Boucher isn’t making fun of the dirtbikes and football. It would be so easy for a clip like this to feel aloof; to have the vibe of appropriating something crass for more artistic reasons. Grimes has none of this; she is there with these people. Separated by a tissue of purpose and a pair of headphones maybe, but there with them. She waves people permission to cross in front of the camera, lets herself be hugged. “Lol, nah, you don’t have to be polite. I’m just doing a little video thing. It’s all good.”
It’s a subtle formula. She’s there, but not; just present enough to feel solidarity, just removed enough to have no fear. The clips eschews High Fantasy (which remakes the world entirely) as well as Low Fantasy (which envisions specific punishments and rewards within the existing framework) in favour of this marvelous and fragile middle-ground: the diaphonous space between overlapping realities.
(— The kind, not incidentally, you get wearing headphones in crowded places.)
I’ve been trying to put my finger on why I’ve watched this so many times in the past week, and I keep coming back to how freeing it is. Not because Claire can go to a football game and make a music video (that’s easy), but because she doesn’t need to disappove of those outside of her artistic world in order for it to feel grounded. Watching this video, the world suddenly seems large enough for all of us to breathe.