What sense can I make, of
What you’ve been doing, guys?
Trolling, yes trolling. But what are all those trolls about?
What have you been trolling for? Boys and girls
What are you fucking fighting for, fighters?
Every week, every day, you pick one thing out of nothing, someone in the most invisible corners, you would pick for something you find infuriating, a
Him, or her, just thing, just anything, to give you some meaning to live, which more often than not means nothing to you.
She means nothing to you man! You don’t fucking care one iota of what’s saying from her, or him, or any name you give.
Now, she becomes your gift, to your god. You say to yourselves, to the one next to you,
“It’s her turn now. It’s time."
You pick up your torch of burning flames, follow your herd, in the darkest dark, to
Fetch her, or him, or anything whose turn it is for your game, your fucking name shaming game.
Torch her, burn her, cremate her to ash, for the sake of her blame.
But what did she done man?
What’s her blame?
What you fucking fighting for?
For science, fuck that I haven’t known you of caring science so much! You don’t even tell prime numbers from others!
For children? For fuck sake I have known you for hating them! So much that you want them die in your front you hypocrite!
For mankind? Oh fuck me you do care your kind, your world you selfish mental. Being all but your generation is your mantle!
You fucking mental, picking anyone who make you mental.
One of a time, a sly, a slime, to suck it out your kind. She’s your kind. This time.
And feeling like in a group of self righteous caring group torching the unscientific,
But yesterday you hate someone scientific systematic. What are you? What have you? What are you possessed today.
To feel yourselves together to do something you feel meaningful. To give you s tiny tints of belonging well being
Being anything, rather than nothing,
Rather than accepting
What happens means nothing.
We are nothing
I’m hanging loose,
You said i seek compilation
Gave me no choice so i had to choose,
I said no more dark, tension
Always in seek of light,
Unlike one beneath the Atlantic
My candle won’t go off my sight,
Taught me what is unique
Never pointing fingers on my faults,
Deep inside never to shy
Or even hide in fancy clothes,
You got pushed away for years,
Abandoned in that old farm
But still, I’ll keep calling your name
No more sad songs.
Someone wrote to ask why I bother writing about John Grisham’s weaknesses as a writer and implied in it is a second question: why read bestsellers at all? The first is a fair question and so is the implication in it: Grisham’s readers don’t read me and don’t care what I think; they don’t care that he’s a bad writer; and people who read me probably aren’t going to read him. Still, I read him because I was curious and I wrote about him to report what I found.
The answer to the second one is easy: Some are great! Not all, probably not even most, but enough to try. Lonesome Dove, the best novel I’ve read recently, was a bestseller. Its sequel, Streets of Laredo, is not quite as good but I’m glad to have read it. Elmore Leonard was often a bestseller and he is excellent…
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I was reading “Escape to Another World” (highly recommended) and this part made me realize something:
How could society ever value time spent at games as it does time spent on “real” pursuits, on holidays with families or working in the back garden, to say nothing of time on the job? Yet it is possible that just as past generations did not simply normalise the ideal of time off but imbued it with virtue – barbecuing in the garden on weekends or piling the family into the car for a holiday – future generations might make hours spent each day on games something of an institution.
I think part of the challenge is that, historically, many of us pursue hobbies and other activities that are also related to craftsmanship. The world of full of people who, in their spare time, rebuild bikes or cars, or sew quilts, or…
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“How to build an autocracy" appears in this month’s Atlantic and may turn out to be the most important article of 2017. It’s so important that I’m putting it in a standalone post rather than including it as an item amid others in a link list. One hopes that the future David Frum imagines in it doesn’t come to pass.
But if it doesn’t, it won’t because individual people choose not to let it come to pass. Knowledge is one step in that process. Action is another.
We seem to have collectively forgotten history. We’ve seen authoritarianism before. What’s odd is seeing it again—although Richard Rorty may have predicted it twenty years ago; until the last election I complacently thought, “It can’t happen here." I was wrong.