slaughterhouse90210:

“Like so many other nerdy, disaffected young people of that time, I dreamed of becoming an ‘artist’, i.e., somebody whose adult job was original and creative instead of tedious and dronelike.”― David Foster Wallace, The Pale King

slaughterhouse90210:

“Like so many other nerdy, disaffected young people of that time, I dreamed of becoming an ‘artist’, i.e., somebody whose adult job was original and creative instead of tedious and dronelike.”
― David Foster Wallace,
The Pale King

"When I am really feeling life and being truthful, the resulting prose is comic. The world is comic. It’s not always funny but it is always comic. Comic, for me, means that there is always a shortfall between what we think of ourselves and what we are. Life is too hard and complicated for a person to live above it, and the moments when this is underscored are comic. But, of course, they are also deep. Maybe the most clearly we ever see reality is when it boots us in the ass."

-George Saunders

http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/books/2014/06/george-saunders-humor.html

The Voice of Rock and Roll

newyorker:

image

Sarah Larson remembers Casey Kasem: http://nyr.kr/1q2qldc

“Unconcerned by cool, and possibly unaware of what cool was, he was a clean-cut, sweater-wearing authority, somewhere between disc jockey and anchorman.”

Photograph: The LIFE Picture Collection/Getty.

(Source: newyorker.com)

Tuesday, February 28, 1950. My new plans for March: soon as I get my money, I’ll join the morning club at the Y and work out almost every weekday. Also, black coffee (no cream and sugar); chinning from the door (which has no real grip, so I can only do ten or eleven or twelve); and less sleep. I’ve been getting fat and lazy. Time for action, time for a new life, my real life. I’ll be twenty-eight in two weeks. Two meals a day instead of three. Much travelling. No stagnation. No more sorrows! No more metaphysical awe! Action … speed … grace … Go! Writing from true thoughts instead of stale rehashes. I’m going to express more and record less in “On the Road.”

From Kerouac’s old journals, via the New Yorker.

http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/backissues/2014/05/letter-from-the-archive-jack-kerouacs-journals.html#entry-more

theparisreview:

“When the language lends itself to me, when it comes and submits, when it surrenders and says, I am yours, darling—that’s the best part.” 
RIP Maya Angelou

theparisreview:

“When the language lends itself to me, when it comes and submits, when it surrenders and says, I am yours, darling—that’s the best part.” 

RIP Maya Angelou

"Man’s curiosity, his relentlessness, his inventiveness, his ingenuity have led him into deep trouble. We can only hope that these same traits will enable him to claw his way out."

— E.B. White

Call for Submissions

thecoincidenceblog:

 
Announcing the first call for submissions from The Coincidence Blog! Do you have an interesting story of coincidence to share? We want to hear it! There is no theme; funny, creepy, heart-warming, sad. We are open to all, as long as there is an element of chance involved. The weirder the better. Photos, videos, and other media are also welcome.
 
Submit through the blog’s Submit page, at thecoincidenceblog.tumblr.com/submit, or send an email to thecoincidenceblog@gmail.com.
strandbooks:

Notes on literature and writing from The Book of Disquiet by Fernando Pessoa, page 30.

strandbooks:

Notes on literature and writing from The Book of Disquiet by Fernando Pessoa, page 30.

"“The future is dark, which is the best thing the future can be, I think,” Virginia Woolf, journal entry, January 18, 1915."

Rebecca Solnit on Virginia Woolf’s interest in the unknown: http://nyr.kr/1iS38rK (via newyorker)

(Source: newyorker.com, via newyorker)

«53-word story»

Vacation

The first time I ate coconut was in New Hampshire. Stores had packets and packets of it, shredded for baking pies. Every day the temperature barely stretched above ten. “Eat this; think of palm trees,” you said and passed me the bag of sweet white flakes. Frost-bitten, cavity-ridden, I never went back again.