A few months ago I dreamt there was a 3-by-3 grid of dog-sized insects walking slowly across one of the walls of my apartment – except where the central insect should have been, was a turtle. The same size, moving in the same direction, and looking right at me.
'Skull of St. Thomas Aquinas being transported to Fossanova Abbey.' Photograph by Daniel Ibanez
Academics rendering aesthetic judgement — is this really what we want for our future?
I’ll put myself out there a bit and say I thought Oppenheimer was fantastic. A car commercial selling the enchantments of evil & a cautionary tale against not being evil enough in the USA.
I will be spending my PTO as the RPG-town NPC pacing back and forth looking for their fountain pen cap.
“Stephen Dedalus apprises us that silence may /be/ a role. A student of silence, exile and cunning, he sometimes talks nonsense, sometimes has nothing to say, is sometimes grossly offensive, and throughout the book is preparing to disappear.“
So she writes about beautiful, clever young women and her name is ‘Helen’… De… ‘Witt’… ?
I am a born lurker, just don’t have much to say. In a Wittgensteinian way.
“His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor.”
I am by no means a Wendell Berry guy, but one of his ideas I admire is that it is the duty of adults to model a life of richness and fulfillment aside from entertainment and indulgence. Not for the adult’s own sake, or to force children to live this way, but so that children know it is possible.
“It seems the sky left us // hanging, long ago, and now wants us undetermined, // untried sheep nosing out of mist.”
I love it when an unexpected ally appears allowing me to survive a crucial moment, who then is forced to retreat, shouting “I’ll leave the rest to you!”
I have more ball knowledge than all of Bsky combined so I have muted every single word plausibly related to the WC.
That thing about the Greek statues being painted originally was just made up by Sherwin-Williams.
Everything sounds fake to me since I heard ‘amor de encava,’ just how it is.
Sometimes I dream about Sherman's March to the Sea. How that holy fire could have grown bigger and bigger.
I miss pre-COVID cafe hours maybe more than anything else from the world before.
