No matter how far wrong you've gone, you can always turn around.
“and I thought when you have a swimming party always go alone
do not attend show up by yourself don’t show up unless no one is there
swim alone never with a buddy always go in the water by yourself no matter what
they tell you jump off banks even if you know it’s shallow below crack your head
open always swim at night jump in when it’s COLD and you gasp and can’t move
my advice to all is death by water if you have an appointment at dawn a duel
swim to the forest of honor with the moon over your shoulder”
— the battlefield where the moon says i love you, Frank Stanford (via glo-fi)
First they’ll criticize our slang. Make us seem uneducated for using it, when the reality is they’re mad we can code switch. Then they’ll use our slang mockingly. Like they really don’t want to use it, but it’s so absurd they can’t help themselves. Then they’ll make money off our slang, t-shirts, cups, bracelets, etc. Then they’ll convince us it was never really ours. It’s been public domain forever.
Feel free to replace the word “Slang” with neighborhoods, and music too.”
— (via jawnsbejawnin)
I’m not a racist. But I do have a race problem. I finally owned up to it as I was anticipating seeing 12 Years a Slave. In the weeks leading up to its opening in my state of North Carolina, I tried to think of with whom among my friends I could see this film. I have a number of racially and ethnically diverse friends and acquaintances who would love to see it, and yet, I knew I could only see this movie alone or with another dark-skinned person.
Though I was born in North America, I was raised in four other countries on three different continents. I speak English and French. I understand my Nigerian Igbo language. My family has married across ethnicities and cultures—I have in-laws of Arabic, Italian, and Indian descent. I always knew I was Nigerian-American, living between cultures and nuanced identities. But I never knew I was just black until I started spending my adult years living in America. Believe me, now I know.
This is hard to admit. I will hurt the feelings of people I love. But isn’t confession the first step to being reconciled?
Read more. [Image: Fox Searchlight]
Kill The Music, a true independent record store in Brisbane, is closing its doors for good on January 5th. This is a huge bummer, but now is the time to celebrate the existence of the store instead of mourning its demise.
Store owner, friend, and all-round good guy Paul Voge has this to say about the legacy of Kill The Music:
So, I’m not a big talker about my personal shit when it comes to the shop. But the crazy amount of “love” we have received over the past 12 hours is nuts.
I can’t thank you all enough for giving a shit about this store that has been a HUGE part of my life over the last 7 years. But working the 3 jobs to keep the shop going is just too much for me too handle financially and mentally…keep in mind I’m an old man now. I would love to keep going for another 70 years but we can not afford to make this a reality and this makes me sad and I am sorry.
But this shop made it for 7 years! 7 fucking years!! We had no help from anyone but the “punk rock” community. When we opened record labels in Australia wouldn’t deal with us, ticket companies wouldn’t deal with us, hell even QMusic sent emails to people saying not to support our store…for real!!. (I should post that email one day haha)
But we changed our whole plan and just dealt with people like us, people who gave a shit about the music they were dealing with and the people that they dealt with. Whether that be local Brisbane bands, venues or labels or places all around Australia. Even the distro’s we have been working with in Europe in America that help us get the records or shirts or whatever in your hands.
And “your hands” are pretty much the main part of any store surviving, whether it be for 7 days or 7 years. As cliche as it sounds, it’s true…”without customers who care you are fucked”. And we happened to have some of the best ever and I can not thank you enough. Some of you have spent hundreds or thousands of dollars here…I am forever thankful to you, a lot more than you know. Thank you.
So we all need to be happy that we made it this far. On paper a punk rock store in Brisbane city should last a year and then become a statistic, but with the help of a million awesome people we lasted for what feels a lifetime. So be stoked that we were around, I know I am. As much as the last 6 months have been very stressful for me and my family we are so thankful for the opportunity that Brisbane gave us to be a store. I know my daughter will miss Kill The Music the most, she thinks it a great place for “hide n seek”
So we are going to go out on a happy note, we have some new shirts coming in, some new records…we have New Found Glory doing a signing here tomorrow from 4pm (their 3rd one here). Come in, say hi, buy a sticker a poster, a record..whatever…it all helps us work at getting all the debts we owe closer to one day being gone.
Go show the store some love at their Facebook, or better yet in person (if you can).
RIP Kill The Music, 2006-2014
There will be more of a write up about the store soon, now isn’t the right time though. Come in, say hi, buy a record or shirt and celebrate the store. I know I’ll be making the most of my last shifts there.
paul is really the best dude in brisbane, and somehow remains my friend even though he knew me at 14
Violent Femmes - Kiss Off
I take one, one, one ‘cause you left me
And two, two, two for my family
And three, three, three for my heartache
And four, four, four for my headaches
And five, five, five for my lonely
And six, six, six for my sorrow
And seven, seven for no tomorrow
And eight, eight, I forget what eight was for
But nine, nine, nine for a lost God
Ten, ten, ten, ten for everything, everything, everything
Exterior and interiors of Ludwig Wittgenstein and Paul Engelmann’s Stonborough house in the suburbs of Vienna. It’s hard not to see the austere- even ferocious- elegance of Wittgenstein’s mind writ across every inch of this structure.
For Daruma's fascinating article on the influence Wittgenstein's foray into architecture had on Tadao Ando, here.
Portuguese designer Susana Soares has developed a device for detecting cancer and other serious diseases using trained bees. The bees are placed in a glass chamber into which the patient exhales; the bees fly into a smaller secondary chamber if they detect cancer.
Scientists have found that honey bees - Apis mellifera - have an extraordinary sense of smell that is more acute than that of a sniffer dog and can detect airborne molecules in the parts-per-trillion range.
Bees can be trained to detect specific chemical odours, including the biomarkers associated with diseases such as tuberculosis, lung, skin and pancreatic cancer.
Bonobo, io corro ad alitare sulla porticina delle tue pecchie
wtf! art meets science.