Enal plays with his pet shark. Part of a photo essay on the Bajau Laut community of “sea nomads” by James Morgan.
From The League of Ordinary Ladies by Esther Werdiger
“You can lose playing on the lowest difficulty setting. The lowest difficulty setting is still the easiest setting to win on.”
—Great line from John Scalzi’s layperson explanation of straight white male privilege: if life is a role playing game, it’s like playing on the lowest difficulty setting there is
“Okay. that was exhausting. Sorry. I didn’t even ask you how you are. How are you? Oh yea? Oh good. That’s great. What? Oh man. That’s tough. I’m sorry… Oh well that sounds like you handled it well, though. So. Yeah. Yeah. I know. I know that’s… yeah. Well… Just remember, time will go by and that’ll just be on the list of shit that happened to you. You’ll be okay. Yeah. Huh?… Oh. Really? HE DID? Oh my GOD! hahaha!! That’s CRAZY! No. no. I won’t tell him you told me. Of course not. Alright well… uhuh? Oh wow. yeah. Alright well.. I really gotta go. Thanks for listening. I’m glad you’re basically okay.”
—Louis CK’s universal empathy at the end of a mass email about all the new stuff for sale on his site
Virginia Woolf (then Virginia Stephen) playing cricket, 1880s.
(via Teju Cole)
Proust playing air guitar on a tennis racquet, 1892.
(via Elif Batuman)
Lessons on psyching yourself up, from The Making of The Shining by Vivian Kubrick (GIFs by maudit)
—April Ludgate-Dwyer, discussing existential crises
(via hipsterparksandrec; original photo by Boris Loeve)
“Caught without a class, a structure, or tradition to support me, in a sense the choice to take a different path is made for me. The only way to assuage my feelings of isolation are to absorb all the traditions [and] classes; make them mine, me theirs.”
—Barack Obama, aged 22, in a letter to his girlfriend
quoted in a new David Maraniss biography.
“Very early on, you are told you have to choose a major, become an expert in something. But my own natural inclination was to take all the world as mine.”
“My stomach is growling” by Amy Earles
The Addict by Vittorio Matteo Corcos (1899), my favourite of Sheila Forde’s Women You Shouldn’t Mess With (via Joyce).
Inspector Spacetime, by blue.
women in novels are too
controlled by the adverb.
As they depart
a perfume of description
‘She rose from the table
and left her shoe
‘Let’s keep our minds
clear, she said drunkenly,’
the print hardly dry
on words like that”
—from “The linguistic war between men and women” by Michael Ondaatje