Chimamanda Ngozi Abichie, Americanah (2013)
And later, unrelated to the above:
She had told Blaine about it later, and there was an impatience in her tone, almost an accusation, as she added that academics were not intellectuals; they were not curious, they built their stolid tents of specialized knowledge and stayed securely in them.
brevetcaptain said: Truth washed down with a locally sourced IPA.
endlesslyunamusing said: sounds like you’ve been drinking too much blood-orange haterade
I can live with that. Brooklyn is just down the drink. The children of the one percent can be very grating.
The modern hipster is just a suburban yuppie in disguise. All bourgeois taste is based on the idea that one is in touch with regular folks, say with Pabst and bacon, but also more knowledgeable and selective in terms of refinement and nutrition, so kimchi and kombucha. It is lower class cultural appropriation reinvented as a “serious” palate. Pickles can’t be pickles, they have to be artisinal and flavored in some way that feels sophisticated, like cayenne and habanero. Donuts can’t be donuts, they must reflect individual rarefied tastes, such as matcha green tea. The whole thing is designed to show off that you only consume the “best” and most “natural” foods, while still retaining the common touch. Suburban yuppies are ostentatious about their food pretensions, hipsters attempt to cover theirs with tattoos, spectacles “irony” and, above all “quirkiness.”
NYC in 2014 was the Coolest!
I keep seeing these photos of New York in the 70s and 80s and even the early 90s. Sure, that’s cool, but it is nothing like New York in the early 20-teens. I’m posting pictures of my favorite New York hotspots in those crazy days and wow, was New York really so cool all those years ago? Here is one of my favorites!
Here’s the TD Waterhouse where I first fell in love with the city! In those days you had to be in bank gang, whether it was Chase or Bank of America, that was your gang. It was rough in those days, like when you saw someone from your rival bank, you totally had to not breakdance or anything to show your pride in your bank. That was when New York was cool and banks were everywhere and you never knew how much money you were going to get out until you pressed the buttons! My friends and I used to not get dressed up and just spontaneously go out to a bank and not dance. We would listen to the coolest live bands not there. Sometimes the bank was closed and we used the ATM and felt like real New Yorkers! It was wild. Kids today would never understand.
It’s unnerving when a character on TV or in movies is named Clint. It’s a rare enough name to not have an involuntary reaction.
spokemnemosyne said: the cock and the fury, the great cocksby, a moveable cock, house of cocks, cock of darkness, the lord of the cocks, the lord of the cocks, all the pretty cocks, cock meridian, cock and punishment, bag of cocks, in cold cock, cock of a salesman
Pfft! Show off.
Some would say poetry is sound sex first and foremost, not dribbling deep thoughts about your feelings the night you fondled Betty’s tits, but my penis is irrefutable.