“There will be no pictures of you and Willie May
pushing that shopping cart down the block on the dead run,
or trying to slide that color television into a stolen ambulance.
NBC will not be able predict the winner at 8:32
or report from 29 districts.
The revolution will not be televised.”—“The Revolution Will Not Be Televised” by Gil Scott Heron (via wellmkay)
Just discovered that there are hundreds of undergraduate courses, recorded in their entirety, offered for free as podcasts on iTunes. Welp, just discovered what I’ll be doing for the next two weeks. You go now too.
“Around her the trees and wild flowers, with that oddly courteous air of natural things suddenly interrupted in their pressing occupations of growing and dying, turned toward her with attention, as though, dull and imperceptive as she was, it was still necessary for them to be gentle to a creation so unfortunate as not to be rooted in the ground, forced to go from one place to another, heartbreakingly mobile.”—Shirley Jackson, The Haunting of Hill House
“He’s a fucking genius. I’d never seen nor heard of him in my life, and I looked up, and I was in a fucking 5-by-5 room with a white guy, smoking weed … and his voice is like something I’ve never heard, and he’s using words that are far from common. Within 20 minutes, I realized why Kanye had him there.”—Rick Ross, on working with Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon on My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy.
“She is sixteen and her skin is the darkness before the black, the plum of the day’s last light, her breasts like sunsets trapped beneath her skin, but for all her youth and beauty she has a sour distrusting expression that only dissolves under the weight of immense pleasure. Her dreams are spare, lack the propulsion of a mission, her ambition is without traction.”—Junot Diaz, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao