Virtual Flaneurism

"It was a real whale, a photograph of a real whale. I looked into its tiny wise eye and wondered where that eye was now. Was it alive and swimming, or had it died long ago, or was it dying now, right this second? When a whale dies, it falls down through the ocean slowly, over the course of a day. All the other fish see it fall, like a giant statue, like a building, but slowly, slowly."

A friend and I photoshopped a series of these back when I lived in Manhattan. Sadly, we printed them out (on the university's dime, of course), but never hung them up. I still have the copies in a container under my bed. I'd be compelled to post the others if there was an interest whatsoever, but I'm not uploading shit to imageshack just to have it go tumbling unnoticed into the inter-void.

Sadly, this really doesn't make sense unless you've lived in New York. Or been to an Indian Deli. Either or.

"When his life was ruined, his family killed, his farm destroyed, Job knelt down on the ground and yelled up to the heavens, “Why god? Why me?” and the thundering voice of God answered, There’s just something about you that pisses me off."

Nathan Love's "NBC Peacock Thanksgiving" from Nathan Love on Vimeo.

First off, just hit 2000 posts. I hope I'm learning something, because god knows this isn't making me any money or friends.

Second, apologies for the quotation dump going on. Sometimes I stumble upon a wonderful tumblr and you folks get a 20-something post-o-rrhea. The particular blog I meandered across today was quotation heavy, hence the particular posts you're getting.

While on the subject...expect a few more quotes. And no more apologies, damn it. You're not my mother; you only get one.

"We all have the potential to fall in love a thousand times in our lifetime. It’s easy. The first girl I ever loved was someone I knew in sixth grade. Her name was Missy; we talked about horses. The last girl I love will be someone I haven’t even met yet, probably. They all count. But there are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are the most important people in your life, and you’ll meet maybe four or five of these people over the span of 80 years. But there’s still one more tier to all this; there is always one person you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of these loveable qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable. The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they’re often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really, want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else."

"What should I do about the wild and the tame? The wild heart that wants to be free, and the tame heart that wants to come home. I want to be held. I don’t want you to come too close. I want you to scoop me up and bring me home at nights. I don’t want to tell you where I am. I want to keep a place among the rocks where no one can find me. I want to be with you."

- Jeanette Winterson

"Who has never killed an hour? Not casually or without thought, but carefully: a premeditated murder of minutes. The violence comes from a combination of giving up, not caring, and a resignation that getting past it is all you can hope to accomplish. So you kill the hour. You do not work, you do not read, you do not daydream. If you sleep it is not because you need to sleep. And when at last it is over, there is no evidence: no weapon, no blood, and no body. The only clue might be the shadows beneath your eyes or a terribly thin line near the corner of your mouth indicating something has been suffered, that in the privacy of your life you have lost something and the loss is too empty to share."

- House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski

From the Onion:

New Evidence Proves First Flag Made By Betsy Ross Actually Shirt For Gay Friend

"All that is gold does not glitter,

From Eliza: