I will give credit to this artist as soon as I locate the website I found it on. Ahem...it is profoundly offensive to watch/hear news about how great the economy/stock market is doing, in light of the depression this country is in (alas, no one will use this word). I feel as though I'm reading about the rich and famous in Vanity Fair when I see/hear news about how great everything is; it is in very bad taste. Reporter: straight- faced-Rupert-Murdock-spun-expression of someone who is in denial about selling their soul to the devil for a paycheck.
Edit: CBS just announced that American's are saving less than they have since the depression. How coincidental that I just used the word "depression" three hours ago?! And no one is even reading this.
According to a recent Gallup poll, over 40% of the US still thinks the Earth is less than 10k years old. What do I expect? Logic and reasoning? Truth? Truth has been commodified.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Sunday, July 16, 2006
The Isolation Generation
What a coincidence that Amy Hulbert should use the term "social isolation" in her NYTimes article. I started using this phrase about two years ago as my term for what I was seeing at college, and in the general public. There is a caustic, dismissive, and disrespectful energy out there stemming from the 14-30 set, who grew up, or, are growing up in the wired age.
-More on this after we go to the local Agricultural Fair for the day.
What a coincidence that Amy Hulbert should use the term "social isolation" in her NYTimes article. I started using this phrase about two years ago as my term for what I was seeing at college, and in the general public. There is a caustic, dismissive, and disrespectful energy out there stemming from the 14-30 set, who grew up, or, are growing up in the wired age.
-More on this after we go to the local Agricultural Fair for the day.
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My daughter climbs inside the car with her "been away" persona distant and matter-of-fact inflected. I play it cool, heart fibrill...
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Rain I stand under a leafless tree more still, in this mouse-pattering thrum of rain, than cattle shifting in the field. It is more d...
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I take hold the dog's leash but feel the tug at my own neck. I look up, and I am three: knee-high in Grandmother's Monroe parlor ...