Saturday, December 24, 2011
Friday, December 9, 2011
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Friday, November 18, 2011
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Friday, October 21, 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
Friday, October 7, 2011
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Monday, August 22, 2011
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Monday, July 25, 2011
Here are six of my top pics that, for me, epitomize what I love about this ridiculous sub-culture. Close your eyes, give em a listen, and enjoy.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Saturday, June 25, 2011
The hoop-la behind ideas of the Apocalypse are mentally trying for me. The thought of those giving up their jobs to sit on street corners boasting the end times as if it were a party not to be missed. The man who, leading up to May 21st, 2011, invested $140,000 of his own money in signage warning of the imminent dooms day this past month. And every other poor soul obsessed (at what seems to be a cyclic 7 to 8 year period) with the end of the world as we know it. I'm beginning to believe that this fear is some innate sense passed down from generation to generation: a more tangible answer to the unfeeling/uncaring cosmos that we are spiraling within straight towards our death. Yes, death is meaningless. But all those years building up to our personal introduction to nothingness are ripe for human substance: To love. To experience. To share.
To confront these overwhelming thoughts, the poem below has offered years of solace.
On the day the world ends
A bee circles a clover,
A fisherman mends a glimmering net.
Happy porpoises jump in the sea,
By the rainspout young sparrows are playing
And the snake is gold-skinned as it should always be.
On the day the world ends
Women walk through the fields under their umbrellas,
A drunkard grows sleepy at the edge of a lawn,
Vegetable peddlers shout in the street
And a yellow-sailed boat comes nearer the island,
The voice of a violin lasts in the air
And leads into a starry night.
And those who expected lightning and thunder
And those who expected signs and archangels' trumps
Do not believe it is happening now.
As long as the sun and the moon are above,
As long as the bumblebee visits a rose,
As long as rosy infants are born
No one believes it is happening now.
Only a white-haired old man, who would be a prophet
Yet is not a prophet, for he's much too busy,
Repeats while he binds his tomatoes:
No other end of the world will there be,
No other end of the world will there be.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Saturday, June 11, 2011
There are tricks to living on a char, Khalilullah says. He builds his house in sections that can be dismantled, moved, and reassembled in a matter of hours…He uses sheets of corrugated metal for the outside walls and panels of thatch for his roof. He keeps the family suitcases stacked neatly next to the bed in case they're needed on short notice. And he has documents, passed down from his father, that establish his right to settle on new islands when they emerge…His real secret, he says, is not to think too much. "We're all under pressure, but there's really no point to worry. This is our only option, to move from place to place. We farm this land for as long as we can, and then the river washes it away. No matter how much we worry, the outcome is always the same."
Don Belt: Excerpt from an article on Char's (small tidal islands) within Bangladesh.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Monday, May 9, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Monday, April 4, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
The Finnish people now have a chance
to withdraw from their hateful partnership,
after the privations of life in Nazi
and the terrors of a “hell train” on which they left the Reich
while a record by the RAF which hit Stuttgart, Munich
and other targets with more than 1,000 four engine
bombers carrying 3600 tons of bombs,
hinder sappers struggling to clear the debris
when two star players on Bloomfield high school's
1934 state champion football team
are together again in a war prison camp in
unbeknownst to them a Detroit obstetrician is convicted
of conspiracy to violate the war time espionage act,
None of the foe found in the "Ghost City"
all the while the county game warden has been setting traps
during the last few weeks to catch the rabbits
that threaten to be pesty later on,
Forces listed “one elephant”
among the supplies and equipment taken from the enemy.
A Mopping up party was clearing
the last hold outs
from the last dug outs
on one of the marshall islands:
As a fuse was set to discharge the demolitions
a man came running out with his hands held high
"don’t shoot, Ive got a brother in brooklyn.”
Today, variable cloudiness
Tonight and friday, variable cloudiness
occasional rain, somewhat colder.
Excerpts spliced and pasted from , NJ's " ."
March 16th, 1944