And without warning… You’re suddenly that family of four.
Mark McCormack, The Demise of a Particular Type of Guy
GOD, IT MUST BE SO HARD FOR YOU. See: Zimbardo’s The Demise of Guys
(via maozedongisnotcool)
Why do manarchist tears taste so disgusting?
(via mohandasgandhi) My boyfriend seems happy with his masculinity. But he doesn’t have to live at home since he isn’t a lazy whiner. It makes perfect since that you feel looked down on if you neve do anything for yourself.n. the smallest measurable unit of human connection, typically exchanged between passing strangers—a flirtatious glance, a sympathetic nod, a shared laugh about some odd coincidence—moments that are fleeting and random but still contain powerful emotional nutrients that can alleviate the symptoms of feeling alone.
Advertising and the free market upends our moral constitution sigh.
By: Hugo Macdonald, Monocle issue 46 Sept 2011 (yes I typed this up, very ghetto)
Now everyone has ‘design’ in their job title, are we forgetting what it actually means?
I met someone the other day who, with a straight face, introduced himself as a hair designer. “What is it that you design…
When the blackberries hang
swollen in the woods, in the brambles
nobody owns, I spend
all day among the high
branches, reaching
my ripped arms, thinking
of nothing, cramming
the black honey of summer
into my mouth; all day my body
accepts what it is. In the dark
creeks that run by there is
this thick paw of my life darting among
the black bells, the leaves; there is
this happy tongue.mary oliver
Psychopaths use charm and manipulation to achieve success in the workplace, according to a US study
Geiger counters, used to detect radioactivity, registered more than 10 sieverts an hour, the highest reading the devices are able to record, Junichi Matsumoto, a general manager at the utility, said today. The measurements were taken at the base of the main ventilation stack for reactors No. 1 and No. 2.
The Fukushima plant, about 220 kilometers (137 miles) north of Tokyo, had three reactor meltdowns after the March 11 magnitude-9 earthquake and tsunami knocked out power and backup generators. Radiation leaks displaced 160,000 people and contaminated marine life and agricultural products.
The utility, known as Tepco, tried to vent steam and gas the day after the earthquake as pressure in reactor No. 1 exceeded designed limits. A buildup of hydrogen gas subsequently caused an explosion that blew out part of the reactor building.
“I suspect the high radiation quantity was an aftermath of venting done,” Matsumoto told reporters in Tokyo. “The plant is not running. I don’t think any gas with high radiation level is flowing in the stack.”
Tepco sent three workers around the ventilation stack today after a gamma camera detected high radioactivity levels in the area yesterday, Matsumoto said. The workers were exposed to as much as 4 millisieverts during the work, he said.
The utility will create a no-go zone around the stack and cover the area with protective material, he said.
I liked the commentary here:
The truth likely is much uglier: this is simply the highest reading the devices are able to record. In other words, there does not exist a device that can capture the true extent of the catastrophe at Fukushima!
At least with Chernobyl, 5 months after the explosion it was pretty much well-known what the damage really is. In Japan, however, the ongoing attempt to hide everything from the general population, many of whom will pay for their government’s lies with their lives, means that reality will only gradually be comprehended. By the time all is said and done, Japan’s demographics will be far, far worse than even today. But who cares: that will be some other administration’s (and unborn generation’s) problem.
Did I tell you that Honors had their own section for summer reading? They totally separated our books and identified us as more than just tenth graders, but the honorable ones. XD
Umm… if they didn’t, you would have read the wrong books.
I’m a little confused as to why the sarcasism was needed. Here was someone excited about learning and armed with a positive spin on their reading assignments….
“I’d rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not.” -Kurt Cobain
Compulsion is a treasured note of a friendly disease,
when accompanied with cold blue eyes and youth fueled and filtered perspective.
I never asked why I felt so close to you or fell so hard into you
in the years where you were always there, forward facing, marching steadily away.
I feared if you ceased to exist my soul would finally fall flat
on the pavement and I’d plainly plunge into the category of
drone: program install completed: plastic marriage ready.
Compulsion is a closet-case of a pleasant disease,
when accompanied with strong-willed dreams and youth past-tense and passive feelings.
I still never stop to ask why I please you or take pride in your smile
in these years where you stay on my mind, patiently positioned, not afraid of the recoil.
I panicked in the thought of your kiss causing pleasant painful peace
to my fate and I retain ferocious fear of the moment when
over resides: final words are spoken: failure settles in.
Compulsion is a simple and mislead fiery disease,
when accompanied with warm blue eyes and age fueled and filtered perspective.
We never ask why we feel so close to this or fall so hard into this
in these years: we are idle here and rage non-complacence there, forced fierce, in battle.
We forget momentarily of life’s waged war and finally fall flat
into pillow top mattresses and perfectly please a desire of
normalcy: picturesque humanity: photo-shopped love.
I lick my lips and then kiss you
(with a mildly murderous intent).
Simple, on the cheek:
Without flaw:
Without meaning, or so I’d have you think.
I steal your time and exhale;
I’m waiting to hear you breathing.
You don’t.
You just keep pushing towards freedom
of this future memory - -
We seem to have lived better in past tense.
Such a torturous game we play,
waiting for life to bloom from our idle intentions and yesterdays.
Escaping the cubical drones; armed with play-doh.
