There is something so desperately desirable about the unattainable and unreachable… something that draws you in with this seductive malice that grips you until every fiber of your being is about to explode in the direction of your lust… and what’s worse, or what’s better, is that it’s wrong but it feels so right, and when you’re alone in the dead of night you can feel the silent ache swell in your chest and your ego inflate after it gets stroked by the fact that even though you shouldn’t have it, you can get it — you can get it and in that heat and in that moment of passion the world will be your’s and everything barricaded by the red tape of society will be in the palm of your hand, just waiting for a taste and the touch of your mouth.
“Why are we reading, if not in hope of beauty laid bare, life heightened and its deepest mystery probed? Can the writer isolate and vivify all in experience that most deeply engages our intellects and our hearts? Can the writer renew our hope for literary forms? Why are we reading if not in hope that the writer will magnify and dramatize our days, will illuminate and inspire us with wisdom, courage, and the possibility of meaningfulness, and will press upon our minds the deepest mysteries, so that we may feel again their majesty and power? What do we ever know that is higher than that power which, from time to time, seizes our lives, and reveals us startlingly to ourselves as creatures set down here bewildered?”—Annie Dillard, The Writing Life (via larmoyante)
I dunno, the Iroh character is going to be hard to replicate. There’s all sorts of plot dynamics at work with Iroh that will be hard to create organically again. There’s the moral ambiguity of him trying to be a good guy by helping his troubled nephew, even though their overall mission is to kill the Avatar. Then there’s the intra-familial dyanmics at work with the tragedy of the loss of his son, and his sometimes healthy/unhealthy attachment to Zuko. Plus the fall from grace/redemption character arc from when he retreated in disgrace from Ba Sing Se, to eventually helping the Avatar overthrow the Fire Nation insurrection of the same city. Throw in the Jesus-esque crucifixion by Zuko’s betrayal, and his forgiveness of him, and the mystery of the White Lotus, and you have a pretty damn compelling character.
“Isn’t man an amazing animal? He kills wildlife - birds, kangaroos, deer, all kinds of cats, coyotes, beavers, groundhogs, mice, foxes, and dingoes - by the millions in order to protect his domestic animals and their feed. Then he kills domestic animals by the billions and eats them. This in turn kills man by the millions, because eating all those animals leads to degenerative - and fatal - health conditions like heart disease, kidney disease, and cancer. So then man tortures and kills millions more animals to look for cures for these diseases. Elsewhere, millions of other human beings are being killed by hunger and malnutrition because food they could eat is being used to fatten domestic animals. Meanwhile, some people are dying of sad laughter at the absurdity of man, who kills so easily and so violently, and once a year sends out a card praying for Peace on Earth.”— C. David Coats (via veegannn)
When civilizations start to die they go insane. Let the ice sheets in the Arctic melt. Let the temperatures rise. Let the air, soil and water be poisoned. Let the forests die. Let the seas be emptied of life. Let one useless war after another be waged. Let the masses be thrust into extreme poverty and left without jobs while the elites, drunk on hedonism, accumulate vast fortunes through exploitation, speculation, fraud and theft. Reality, at the end, gets unplugged. We live in an age when news consists of Snooki’s pregnancy, Hulk Hogan’s sex tape and Kim Kardashian’s denial that she is the naked woman cooking eggs in a photo circulating on the Internet. Politicians, including presidents, appear on late night comedy shows to do gags and they campaign on issues such as creating a moon colony. “[A]t times when the page is turning,” Louis-Ferdinand Celine wrote in “Castle to Castle,” “when History brings all the nuts together, opens its Epic Dance Halls! hats and heads in the whirlwind! Panties overboard!”
The quest by a bankrupt elite in the final days of empire to accumulate greater and greater wealth, as Karl Marx observed, is modern society’s version of primitive fetishism. This quest, as there is less and less to exploit, leads to mounting repression, increased human suffering, a collapse of infrastructure and, finally, collective death. It is the self-deluded, those on Wall Street or among the political elite, those who entertain and inform us, those who lack the capacity to question the lusts that will ensure our self-annihilation, who are held up as exemplars of intelligence, success and progress. The World Health Organization calculates that one in four people in the United States suffers from chronic anxiety, a mood disorder or depression—which seems to me to be a normal reaction to our march toward collective suicide. Welcome to the asylum.
- Chris Hedges
“No one rises above who he or she has been without first having fallen down. The best time - in fact, the only time - to make a real change in your life is in the moment of seeing the need for it. He who hesitates always gets lost in the hundred reasons why tomorrow is a better day to get started.”—Guy Finley (via larmoyante)
“Admit it. You aren’t like them. You’re not even close. You may occasionally dress yourself up as one of them, watch the same mindless television shows as they do, maybe even eat the same fast food sometimes. But it seems that the more you try to fit in, the more you feel like an outsider, watching the “normal people” as they go about their automatic existences. For every time you say club passwords like “Have a nice day” and “Weather’s awful today, eh?”, you yearn inside to say forbidden things like “Tell me something that makes you cry” or “What do you think deja vu is for?”. Face it, you even want to talk to that girl in the elevator. But what if that girl in the elevator (and the balding man who walks past your cubicle at work) are thinking the same thing? Who knows what you might learn from taking a chance on conversation with a stranger? Everyone carries a piece of the puzzle. Nobody comes into your life by mere coincidence. Trust your instincts. Do the unexpected. Find the others.”—
Start. I was driving on a dark road, when I pass some picnickers on the grass to the right. Their dog runs into the road and I have to swerve to avoid it. I yell out “Leash your fucking dog!” Fast forward instantly, I park at the side of the road near the back loading zone of MV. There’s tons of people around; I think it might’ve been a party. At this point I realize not only do I not know why I’m here, I have no fucking clue HOW I got here. The shock of discovering a black stretch of memory was painful. All I remembered was lying down on my bed to take a nap and here I was, in the middle of the night, outside a house, in a crowd of people I didn’t know. I got out of the car, and some asian kid was laughing and telling me how he saved my life. I didn’t quite know what he meant. I couldn’t remember a single thing besides the dog and my bed, so I’m assuming he meant my unfit state to drive. I left him and walked inside the house. I met a friend (I can’t remember who now) in this room with a TV over a pool. The TV was playing some movie no one was really listening to. It was at this point I realized I must be dreaming. And since I realized that, I must be lucid dreaming. So to wake up, I just have to shock myself again right? I carefully step to the edge of the pool, ready to wake up. I fall forward, noticing the pool actually isn’t that clean at all. There were weird bubbles like the ones you see on polluted beaches. I didn’t have much time to think about that before I hit the water. Cold. I break the surface, confused as fuck, and I recognized some Monta Vista people shouting at me, “Duuude, you’re totally wasted." I disregarded that, since I hadn’t had anything to drink, and reevaluated the situation. Was it possible I was actually here? Wherever "here" was? Did I hit my head or something? I walked out to the balcony with awe. The balcony overlooked that 180 degree turn in the road on McClellan heading to Foothill (The fact that I wasn’t near Monta Vista, wasn’t apparent then). The balcony extended to the left, leading to a restaurant like seating area under the stars. But besides the people in the house, I couldn’t see a single person, a light in a house, or one pair of headlights from this 30 foot high balcony. I went back inside, somehow convinced this was the real thing, and I had to figure out how to get home. My mind was conceiving the notion of calling my dad and asking him where I said I’d gone, when I started feeling a huge weight against the entire front of my body, but I wasn’t moving. Two seconds later, I was lying facedown…in my bed. End.
I can’t stress how real it felt. I also try not to add commentary that did not actually happen during the dream.
The evolution of cats is a fascinating one. Unlike most dogs, if humans were to vanish off the face of the earth tomorrow, the feline population would adapt to feral life relatively effortlessly. The fatsos would have a rough time at first, but they’d lean up and make it. Dogs, on the other hand, have lost a lot of the intelligence their lupine ancestors had because humans don’t particularly like the idea of having an animal that’s big and dangerous and smart. Big and dangerous is okay as long as it’s docile and friendly. Those hunter instincts had to go.