“if you and I love then we love, that’s all there is to it. we keep a clear head and don’t cloud our minds nor restrain our feelings nor quench the fire and the light—but say simply, thank God—I love.”—
“I wouldn’t exactly have chosen madness if there had been a choice, but once one has something like that one can’t catch it any more.”—Vincent van Gogh being amusing, despite himself, in a letter to his brother (21 April 1889, from Arles).
you can play around as much as you like. but it’s foolish to settle-down, begin drafting or typesetting, until you have found a partner who you get along with, and who meets both your functional requirements and your physical preferences.
I’m into serif fonts, which might be why I haven’t found ‘the one’. sans serif are far more fun and sexy and hipster, but there is something in the clarity and legibility of a serif that just does it for me. I only wish there was bar of some sort where I could meet nice serifs. you know, guys with normal italics and regular spacing and who don’t leave the toilet seat up. no luck so far.
the most terrible thing about being a student again is that I am no-longer able to justify the extravagance of bed accoutrement.
I have the worst pillows. seriously. the worst. ask anyone who has experienced them. they’re all squelchy and pathetic and insubstantial. they’re like paper cut-outs of pillows. they’re so wholly unlike pillows that it’s uncanny they should have been packaged and sold as pillows, and ridiculous that I couldn’t sense their inferiority while selecting them. by the light of day—adorned with my indulgently-hipster, generally-floral, printed Ralph Lauren pillowcases—they make fetching, pillow-shaped bed-decorations. but in darkness it is a challenge to distinguish them from the mattress.
how am I supposed to wake up feeling sexy and refreshed and studious and ready to face the world and accomplish things when—all night—my head has been cradled by these deficient, lamentable, inconsequential fabrications?
I think I’m finally going to concede that the library is *not* the ideal venue for picking up men or finding love. the library of my fantasies is populated by sensitive, intellectual and sort of badass hot library boys who wear glasses and skinny jeans and have mad as hair and soft-spoken opinions about politics and who are idealistic (but not in a gross way) and who like animals and ride sweet bikes and think it’s cute I pretty much salivate when new issues of Asian Geographic and New Scientist arrive on the shelf, even though I spend most of my time reading obscure novels like the Honey Badger and updating tumblr and writing selection criteria and fixing my hair.
a television series about a difficult, brooding personality—who knows things and is remarkably good at ‘noticing stuff’ and ‘deducing’ (or whatever), who is in possession of the statuesque Adonis of all trench coats, and an invigoratingly chiselled set of cheekbones—and the things that piss him off.
his ensemble was—in every detail—utterly inspired: hugely bad-ass, sexy-as, faux-military, hipster lady-chic. and—hey—there is nothing wrong with being hipster. a study of alienation as fashion (or whatever). I suppose that he might have been attractive? but didn’t get past admiring him as-the-artwork. I live to see this guy again.
I have spent the last hour trying to get the region-4 copy of Mulholland Drive that I borrowed from the library to work on my laptop’s region-two drive.
it’s ridiculous that regions even exist. it’s 2011, fools! why on earth is DVD access stratified by location? maintaining regional access restriction denies the very phenomenon that allows films to retail in a global marketplace. what do ‘regions’ mean anyway? what sense links the audiovisual access requirements of the locations comprising each? and don’t anyone mention that different-release-dates rubbish, because there is no good reason for localising them, either. globali-what?
“perhaps children murder each other all the time and are simply keeping quiet about it … since they do not work, it is not clear what they are for … they have the uncanniness of things which resemble us in some ways but not in others.”—Terry Eagleton, talking about how society can more easily perceive children as inherently evil or inherently good, than as morally rational. from an interesting (albeit, fairly ideological) article about the existence of ‘evil’ outside of ideology: 'Of Men and Monsters', in New Statesman (1 April 2010).