I'm thinking about how I use tumblr. I look at weird or wonderful words and art, on the occasions that I take a break from my more regular habit of looking at sexy pics of women.
I'd like to start blending or mashing up the artsy or wordy elements with incongruent unrelated libidinous photos of women being sexy.
It would be something to do. Anything, as long as I start to occupy and ground myself, because I'll finish withering and die otherwise.
The bleak obscenity of how isolated and horrible my life was, bore down relentlessly on me me even before the pandemic rose up to join with other forces of chaos and shut our angry polarized culture down when we all sorely needed to relearn to connect.
The pandemic whooshed in like a cyclone, and the last shreds of my life were torn away in an instant, with me practically sucking for air in the void. Now, isolation and idleness is an absolute state. Virtually all my interactions in recent years were with community resources, social type services, hospitals, and shelter workers.
They've all stayed closed or been modified and telewhatevered. So, my health is eroded by physical atrophy and my mind is not grounded at all because I so seldom speak to anyone. I've started to behave erratically on the internet, leaving ten page comments in reply to strangers, adopting this tumblr page of mine, or spewing vitriolic invective at people online, like a crazy man.
So there you have it, if anyone ends up on this page.
Ironically, social media is showing me that there are millions of lonely folk needing validation, who curate their digital lives with passion. So much yearning to be seen and heard.
Unfortunately, it seems everyone is selling, no one buying: a global chorus of need howls noon and night, wanting any attention at all.
We need a Namaste Army to comb this world for the humans behind the screens.
Bodach out.
Well that was incredible. The singer was just pouring out a heart rending, soulful rendition of Creep that would make your chest shudder. Her possessed driven voice was looking to smash right out of that room, like a gail force from massive unseen pipes. She could turn from whisper to soaring then back.
Meanwhile, the backing band played a giddily infectious and genial vamp, like it just went right over their heads that Creep is a devastatingly sorrowful song–not melancholy, but acute anguish, bereaved loss as a freely gushing wound that doesn’t heal.But no, they carried entire duration of the song–like it was jauntily amiable, laid back and with the purest kind of no-fucks-to-give, bounce in its gait. For me, it recalled the sensation and storied feel of Herbie Hancock’s Fat Albert Rotunda, or the lope along good natured Linus and Lucy theme from countless Peanuts animated specials–which only added to the thick warm mallow feeling it stirred in me.
Her voice railed with loneliness and loss. It’s sonorous dolor filled the air enveloping the rhythm section, but instead of leaching the vitality out of them, it was like they just absorbed her energy for juice. It cranked the mood coming off them from dopey laissez-faire to jubilation, the loping feel of the rhythm’s stride shifted subtly, rising in mood to a march. Then up from march to a joyous victory dance without changing any tempo, dynamic, or orchestration, just like they appropriated the agony energy of her song and transformed it into an aural ecstasy more suited to a dervish.
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More info on them, pasted from Youtube:
Subscribe: http://bit.ly/2IwGwQc
Official Website: https://scarypocketsfunk.com
Stories Channel: https://youtube.com/channel/UC-yUK_2H...
Facebook: https://facebook.com/scarypockets
Instagram: https://instagram.com/scarypockets
Twitter: https://twitter.com/scarypockets
Bandcamp: https://scarypockets.bandcamp.com
Musicians Vocals: India Carney Bass: Sam Wilkes Drums: Lemar Carter Guitar: Ryan Lerman Wurlitzer: Jack Conte (who you might recognise from Pomplamoose) Recording Engineer: Pete Min
It is easier to tell a story of how people wound one another than of what binds them together.
Anne Carson, from Plainwater: Essays and Poetry
Kurt Vonnegut:
“When I was 15, I spent a month working on an archeological dig. I was talking to one of the archeologists one day during our lunch break and he asked those kinds of “getting to know you” questions you ask young people: Do you play sports? What’s your favorite subject? And I told him, no I don’t play any sports. I do theater, I’m in choir, I play the violin and piano, I used to take art classes.
And he went WOW. That’s amazing! And I said, “Oh no, but I’m not any good at ANY of them.”
And he said something then that I will never forget and which absolutely blew my mind because no one had ever said anything like it to me before: “I don’t think being good at things is the point of doing them. I think you’ve got all these wonderful experiences with different skills, and that all teaches you things and makes you an interesting person, no matter how well you do them.”
And that honestly changed my life. Because I went from a failure, someone who hadn’t been talented enough at anything to excel, to someone who did things because I enjoyed them. I had been raised in such an achievement-oriented environment, so inundated with the myth of Talent, that I thought it was only worth doing things if you could “Win” at them.”
Monuments Chapter 1 In Paris, frozen on huge stone pedestals, cult characters from popular culture are raised to the rank of “Monuments”. Paris-based photographer Benoit Lapray says It is a way for him to underline that these heroes of fiction are today part of the world’s cultural heritage.
The force is with us.
Are you?
Here are some of the images I created for Topp’s new series of trading cards, Star Wars: Chrome Perspectives. It was a blast to make them, and I’m gratified that the folks who’ve seen them seem to dig them.
Always loudly demonstrate your beliefs in individual human rights, person-first ethos, anti-nationalism, anti-communism, anti-ideologism , anti-elitism, anti-classism, by shaming and castigating others for failing to conform to this enlightenment which only we possess, and has forced us to always protectively act solely in the vested interests of our group in the name of justice for all.
Think of it as being part of an eternal elite Hive granting you purpose, clarity and a badge of untouchable authority. It is essential, if we are to prevail in having our truth dominate, that you see, think and act solely through the lens of our unified group's needs, feelings, grievances and agenda. If you ever doubt, remember that is your internalized misogyny. There is only being with us, or being oppressors and we won't tolerate them. Don't worry if it sounds confusing, we have it very clearly defined for you in our discourse that no one is allowed to debate.
Be proud, aggressive and fierce about it: devalue, discredit and dismiss dissent it is the hate from out-group voices who don't want us to get our way, they are distracting noise. Opposition shouldn't be allowed to be heard, it could confuse people. If they oppose us then they are by our definition, oppressors. Whatever their needs, or any challenge or question, always be swift in calling out opposition and use anything you can to silence it. Make our voice loud and overpowering, denounce them as haters, anything it takes. That is how you will have freedom to carve out entitled space and privilege for our group. Then you just continue to self-promote us under the banner of inclusive justice and equality that no one can argue against.
I know it sounds deceitful, hypocritical and impossible to pull off, but trust us, we've been doing it for decades, no one has stopped us yet and most wouldn't dare try. Demands and shaming, always repeat what works.
I'm at the very functional end of the autism spectrum and I find randomness or change difficult and agitating. Sometimes, I do just have to say no.
What's tiring in the extreme is having to explain over and over to people who question every single time. It invalidates and devalues me. I find with cognitive, neurological, psychological and emotional disorders and conditions, people say they understand, that they are accepting and oppose stigma, but then do this "what's going on" confused, impatient, or disbelieving routine any time you show signs of a symptom or trait.
Worse, when you explain, they chime in again with their flaccid facile two cents on both the condition and my diagnosis. I've reached the point, I usually just want to reply with violence. Some ways I can flex, other ways not so much. And more stress = more rigid, less resilient. That's not complicated to remember.
Eve Meyer
No one does escape. It doesn't matter one bit. Humility is everything.
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