
cross-platform story
September 29, 2017 at 02:04PM
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cross-platform story
September 29, 2017 at 02:04PM
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With a fast enough lens, you can fool the shadow people into thinking your camera is pointed elsewhere.
September 28, 2017 at 07:05PM
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cherry, mon cheri / photo: @lwestreich
September 17, 2017 at 03:06PM
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dreamer: 34000 ft / @catmthomas
September 15, 2017 at 05:17PM
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I DEMAND Bassel Khartabil's DATE OF DEATH and REMAINS returned to his family for mourning to begin #freebassel https://t.co/srejWEzcVE
— ../westy (@westyreflector) September 15, 2017
September 15, 2017 at 04:30PM
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This zone where waves give up their energy… is the surf. It is the most exciting part of the ocean. / Willard Bascom, Oceanographer
September 11, 2017 at 04:40PM
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The greatest weapon against free thought isn't fear, but isolation. My track on this avows that Bassel was never alone. Thx @rupertlally https://t.co/BJiN3Hm0ZG
— ../westy (@westyreflector) September 5, 2017
September 05, 2017 at 05:49PM
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With the passing of Walter Becker, let’s resurrect a piece of mine on Steely Dan, for whom I had conflicting feelings but also heavy sentimental attachment, their inescapable songs stamped on many pivotal moments through my halcyon teenage daydream years. I didn’t choose to write about them – the piece was an assignment.
Back in 2013, I jumped into in a meme game, on a whim, against character and habit. That it was a Facebook meme made it even rarer for me, since I spend maybe 5 minutes a month in eff-space (another post for the future, perhaps). Courtesy of Scott Faulkner (http://www.vinylsaurus.com), the game was if you “liked” Scott’s Facebook post, he assigned you a band/act and you would write on them in the same format. The assignments would then cascade through every generation of likes. Marc Weidenbaum (https://disquiet.com) liked Scott’s post and was assigned The Residents. I, in turn, liked Marc’s post about The Residents, so he assigned me… drum roll… Steely Dan.
see through ads, and you find they all use the same mirror
September 01, 2017 at 03:56PM
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It’s 2061. Shunted off in the corner of the rec room at Elysian City: A Home For The Aged, I spend my days staring out a 2nd-story window at a leafy City neighborhood in a vain attempt to cancel out my immediate surroundings. I am 90 years old. My money is gone, my companionship is long over, I have no savings. The government will not approve me for a phone or any sort of connection to the Internet (by that time, access to the virtual world is age restricted for over-85s the same as drivers licenses). I don’t have a guitar. All my instruments and vinyl collection were sold to pay for a hybrid pig heart I needed when I was 83. Elysian also forbids personal music playback devices and headphones, so I can’t seek comfort in the albums I released decades ago in my highwire days.
The other patients create an absurd, inescapable, Cuckoo’s Nest din. I am there because I lost my money, but most are there because they lost their minds. Phillip, a former tenured NYU Comparative Literature professor, screams all day, every day in the same seat, about Donald Trump’s “Kalashnikov eyes” the “god damned Pension Police in the walls!” Every time he tries to eat, he hallucinates himself into the same Thanksgiving dinner simulation where he’s arguing with his brother Mitch about the 2016 election. By the end of every exchange (of which we only get his side), Phillip will slam his plate up and down, sending most of his meal in all directions.…
continue...
city sunset study 083117.1912
August 31, 2017 at 11:23PM
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