Creamed chicken specials, plates of fried vegetables, cheese sandwiches with soup. It was hard to think of all the ways you’d never come through for people, closed them out, never loved them, and still order lunch.
Lorrie Moore, Who Will Run the Frog Hospital?
Who Will Run the Frog Hospital is one of the few truly perfect novels I’ve read. Go read it now.
4:17 pm • 9 April 2013 • 45 notes
“Gentrified happiness is often available to us in return for collusion with injustice. We go along with it, usually, because of the privilege of dominance, which is the privilege not to notice how our way of living affects less powerful people. Sometimes we do know that certain happiness exists at the expense of other human beings, but because we’re not as smart as we think we are, we decide that this is the only way we can survive.”
— Schulman, Sarah (2012-01-07). The Gentrification of the Mind: Witness to a Lost Imagination (Kindle Locations 2266-2269). University of California Press. Kindle Edition.
2:36 pm • 9 April 2013 • 15 notes
“Gentrified thinking is like the bourgeois version of Christian fundamentalism, a huge, unconscious conspiracy of homogenous patterns with no awareness about its own freakishness.”
Schulman, Sarah (2012-01-07). The Gentrification of the Mind: Witness to a Lost Imagination (Kindle Locations 721-722). University of California Press. Kindle Edition.
THIS BOOK, guys. THIS BOOK.
1:32 am • 9 April 2013 • 2 notes
“In other words, some ideas have to be formally replicated, instead of being described. They have to be evoked. This is especially true when talking about urban experience. What music best evokes life in cities? Improvisational jazz, real rock and roll, and rap/hip-hop/sampling. It’s the clash of systems that produces the authentic representation of the complex whole.”
— Schulman, Sarah (2012-01-07). The Gentrification of the Mind: Witness to a Lost Imagination (Kindle Locations 287-289). University of California Press. Kindle Edition.
12:46 am • 9 April 2013 • 1 note
Sarah Schulman, NYC, 1988, photographed by Robert Giard for the “Particular Voices: Portraits of Gay and Lesbian Writers” series (via emilygould)
i am actually crying over these serious & gorgeous portraits of queer writers in the 1980s, many of whom have been super fucking inspiring to me!! stay tuned, more queued and coming soon
<3 <3 <3
6:49 pm • 7 April 2013 • 104 notes
this weird day is all about staying in bed and thinking about what a good drummer Janet Weiss is
9:16 pm • 31 March 2013 • 656 notes
“These are the days that must happen to you.”
— Song of the Open Road, Walt Whitman. (via janale)
10:29 pm • 26 March 2013 • 76 notes
“There is a reason why people pick up an instrument and put it between themselves and the rest of the world. Language is an inadequate form of communication. If you’ve picked up an instrument, it’s because you don’t feel you are communicating sufficiently.”
Stephen Stills, interviewed by Jessica Hopper for Rolling Stone
Thinking about this a lot today.
2:32 pm • 26 March 2013 • 1 note
All up on Your Thighs: I bought Why Does He Do That?: Inside the Minds of Angry and...
I bought Why Does He Do That?: Inside the Minds of Angry and Controlling Men from the Barnes & Noble on my way home Sunday. I finished it sometime yesterday, having only put it down to spend time with my girlfriend and to clean (we finally finished season eight of The X-Files).
this book was…
I want to echo how important this book was for me in order to really process my former abusive relationship. I also want to make it clear that this book is helpful even if you are not straight. It is definitely triggering, but I found it helped me to move through painful memories in a productive way.
6:43 pm • 20 March 2013 • 13 notes
I have three poems up on Two Serious Ladies.
I’m playing musical improv at Lindsey Kugler’s book release party this Saturday at the IPRC in Portland.
I feel like the universe is putting me through a course called: You have a body, by the way. I got in a bike accident and broke my hand and screwed up my shoulder and such. It was a very humbling experience. I will never forget the night I made chili and had to figure out how to use a can opener with one hand, and when I was finally done cooking I was so exhausted I didn’t have the energy to eat. Then a couple months ago I started having problems with acid reflux, which has required a complete change of my lifestyle. I’m grateful for the opportunity to make better habits, I just wish that I didn’t have to wait for the river to be on fire to figure out not to dump garbage in it all the time.
The other big thing that happened was that my grandfather died. He chose to go off dialysis, so it gave us all time to prepare. I was there for the last few days of his life. It made me very aware of the limits of language. I couldn’t say anything to him without it sounding completely inadequate. Then, he couldn’t really communicate at all. I began playing guitar for him and it seemed to soothe him. I sang Roger Miller’s “King of the Road,” and he smiled, almost. On the night of his death I took requests from my uncles and we all sang together. It made me think about what music is for, and why I’m doing what I’m doing in the first place.
3:12 pm • 18 March 2013 • 5 notes