UNBORN WHISKEY

(the problem with music according to brad nelson)

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R.E.M.:

“FALLS TO CLIMB”

R.E.M. is my sick music. This has been true since high school—no matter how familiar with their catalog I grow, they still reflect the inner rain. Especially Up, which is still underestimated by people who gesture toward Kid A as the great artistic trump card. Like this doesn’t also explore the extreme depths through electronics.

permalink (via beatonna)

(via beatonna)

permalink From The Thin Blue Line. Which I watched today instead of progressing on anything substantial because the airplane has landed in my head again, though this time it resembles cold, not flu, because in trying to graduate you cease to take care of yourself in any reasonable way, which only hinders your attempts to graduate, because I probably would’ve watched it even had I not gotten sick, for I have hit that point where all diversionary tactics have grown more sweet and desirable than the tasks at hand, because of the way your eyes look when represented pointilist in a newspaper, the way all the dots seem so chaotic and desperate as they mimic your outlines.

From The Thin Blue Line. Which I watched today instead of progressing on anything substantial because the airplane has landed in my head again, though this time it resembles cold, not flu, because in trying to graduate you cease to take care of yourself in any reasonable way, which only hinders your attempts to graduate, because I probably would’ve watched it even had I not gotten sick, for I have hit that point where all diversionary tactics have grown more sweet and desirable than the tasks at hand, because of the way your eyes look when represented pointilist in a newspaper, the way all the dots seem so chaotic and desperate as they mimic your outlines.

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So you’re saying the decade began with a self-indulgent half-true memoir by a character with a victim complex put upon by a society that doesn’t understand him while he self-consciously manipulates a cult following and that it ended with a self-indulgent half-true memoir by a character with a victim complex put upon by a society that doesn’t understand her while she self-consciously manipulates a cult following?

Abe Sauer connects the Eggers-to-Palin dots.

This freaking decade, man.

(via maura)

permalink showerbeers:

Drank and just about smiled…

showerbeers:

Drank and just about smiled…