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I work in an office where the men’s bathroom has two stalls. Which means not only are there people who have more money than me and get to tell me what to do, but I also have to know what their shit smells like. That’s my only joke about work.

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The City That You're Living In by Drew Salisbury from the album: Drew Salisbury's Album

Here’s a song I wrote when I lived in Saint Paul and recorded the other night. I don’t know how to mix or anything so it’s just the rough cut.

Greenpoint

All over the city at night there’s a humming I hear I can feel it sometimes
it’s beneath all the noise or maybe it’s just all of it together
I get up from the chair in our bright white kitchen
where we take turns with the stove while we’re making our dinners
And the TV is on
but it’s not like we don’t know things aren’t getting any better
And your family is calling from back home
They’re saying it’s about your brother

Back at the beginning of summer you were living in Greenpoint bars
staying up till the morning every night
Your old friends aren’t calling you anymore, but it’s all right
You aren’t calling them either
And fall is coming soon
God this year’s gone by so much faster than any other
And your new friends are almost always around
Sometimes it makes forgetting easier

But you don’t know where they are tonight
And you’re dressed for a good time
But your boyfriend won’t be by
Because you guys got in a fight
There’s been too many to keep straight
He says he’s worried about all the weight you’re losing
As if that’s all you were losing…

Our past is in a different time zone
The hours here just come sooner
And there’s only one way we can ever go
So I try not to worry about it
Start back at the beginning
you’ll catch yourself thinking
things were easier then
but they probably never were really
over miles of plains
we can hear it humming
and it just keeps coming
it just keeps coming
You had something then
And it felt all right
You still got your friends
sometimes but you don’t know

Where they are tonight
and you can’t stand staying inside
And you’re dying to get high
but you ran out Friday night
And you got ten more days to wait
until you’re getting paid again

Can’t get a ride tonight
and I didn’t wanna drive
Our friends got left behind
I am ready for a good time
I am ready for a good time 

It’s hard to really, like, look at somebody and go, hey, maybe something nice will happen. You just don’t—I know too much about life to have any optimism because I know even if it’s nice, it’s going to lead to shit. I know that if you smile at somebody, and they smile back, you’ve just decided that something shitty is going to happen.You might have a nice couple of dates, but then she’ll stop calling you back. Or you’ll date for a long time, and then she’ll have sex with one of your friends, or you will with one of hers. Or you’ll get married, and it won’t work out, and you’ll get divorced and split your friends and money, and that’s horrible. Or you’ll meet the perfect person, who you love infinitely, and you even argue well, and you grow together, and you have children, and then you get old together, and then she’s going to die. That’s best case scenario, is that you’re going to lose your best friend, and then just walk home from D’Agostinos with heavy bags everyday and wait for your turn to be nothing also.

It’s hard to really, like, look at somebody and go, hey, maybe something nice will happen. You just don’t—I know too much about life to have any optimism because I know even if it’s nice, it’s going to lead to shit. I know that if you smile at somebody, and they smile back, you’ve just decided that something shitty is going to happen.You might have a nice couple of dates, but then she’ll stop calling you back. Or you’ll date for a long time, and then she’ll have sex with one of your friends, or you will with one of hers. Or you’ll get married, and it won’t work out, and you’ll get divorced and split your friends and money, and that’s horrible. Or you’ll meet the perfect person, who you love infinitely, and you even argue well, and you grow together, and you have children, and then you get old together, and then she’s going to die. That’s best case scenario, is that you’re going to lose your best friend, and then just walk home from D’Agostinos with heavy bags everyday and wait for your turn to be nothing also.

MUSIC TWEETS

robdelaney:

I realized I’ve written a lot of tweets about music. I have compiled some for you here:

I just took a HUGE “Eagles Greatest Hits.”

I love the album Abbey Road so much I think I’m going to name my first daughter “Road.”

Rap-rock is the soundtrack to date-rape.

Read More

This guy.

A Tragic Honesty

“And where are the windows? Where does the light come in?”—as ever, in the implication that we’re human, we fail, but in our common humanity we belong to one another for better or worse, whether as families or in some ineffable way suggested by the “sounds of the city” that Billy’s sister describes in “Joseph”: “Because you see there are millions and millions of people in New York—more people than you can possibly imagine, ever… and because there are so many of them, all those little sounds add up and come together in a kind of hum. But it’s so faint—so very, very faint—that you can’t hear it unless you listen very carefully for a long time.”

In the face of so many millions struggling against anonymity, or just to retain dignity, Helen’s “brave, difficult, one-woman journey” is bound for obscurity.

But then a kind of mystical kinship is evoked, as well as forgiveness, and doom, in the story’s final line: “Our mother was ours; we were hers; and we lived with that knowledge as we lay listening for the faint, faint sound of millions.”

-A Tragic Honesty

The Life and Work of Richard Yates

by Blake Bailey

yourbangsarecute:

So, this just happened. The BMW cast getting twitters is the best thing that has happened in a long time. These are the opening credits they’re talking about.

yourbangsarecute:

So, this just happened. The BMW cast getting twitters is the best thing that has happened in a long time. These are the opening credits they’re talking about.

2007 | wow that was four years ago

http://broodsphilosophy.wordpress.com/

The following is something I apparently handed in for my Philosophy of Mind class my senior year at Madison. I found it looking through an old external hard drive. I don’t remember writing any of this. I was really a wise-ass. If I remember right, I got a solid C+ in this class.

The file was saved as: “Pizza Pizza Yummy Yummy.”

            In Dretske’s “A Recipe for Thought,” the philosopher attempts to show how having a formula for a thought can give us an understanding of what thoughts are, or rather, that knowledge of these instructions is at least necessary for us to have a total comprehension of the product of these instructions. Whether what Dretske produces at the end of the paper, what he refers to as the makings of a thought, or something which is beginning to behave like one, really resembles what is going on in my mind when I say, for example, “There’s a snake in my boots!” or “Someone’s poisoned the water hole!” is up for debate (I don’t think it does even remotely), but since this is a philosophy paper, apparently that is a moot point. What matters, assuming the product of Dretske’s recipe is indeed a “thought,” is does the recipe have what it takes to create it? I will follow along Dretske’s claims, from his proposal for the inclusion of original intentionality in his recipe for an intentional creation (which I see no problem with) to his explanation of the mind’s ability to misrepresent (where I believe he makes two major errors, mainly dealing with the idea that meanings of representations are detached from their causes, and further, his appeal to “natural functions,” apparently in order to explain said detachment).

            A problem that arose for the naturalist when trying to describe all things mental, rich with intentionality, that ever-intriguing characteristic of “aboutness,” was how in fact to do this without using language that was itself intentional. For at first glance, as Dretske notes, one could not, for example, tell someone to build a cake by mashing many tiny cakes together, or if they could, the receiver of the information would be no better off than they were when they started in terms of grasping what cake “is.” Perhaps even a more straightforward example would be to say one cannot explain what a utopia is by saying, “something that has utopian characteristics.” How can I describe the mental characteristic of happiness? I could physically describe it as a release of a certain chemical C in the area of the brain D, but that doesn’t relate what it is like for me upon hearing that Bob Stinson has risen from the grave and will be touring and recording with a newly reunited The Replacements. I would have to say something like “I rejoice! I am elated!” But indeed, these words all point to a certain something. They are all “about” the news that happiness is about. They are, unfortunately, intentional.

            But Dretske says fret not oh ye desperate naturalists, for I have the solution to all of your troubles and worries! Why should we, he asks, be so quick to assume that we cannot use intentional speech to describe the intentional? Using his own example, an amplifier is something that conducts electricity, so does that mean that we cannot include copper wiring, which gasp! also conducts electricity, in a schematic for an amplifier? Of course it does not. I’m with Dretske one hundred percent here. Take the delicious Dr. Pepper I am drinking. Am I to believe I cannot list water, a main ingredient, because it quenches my thirst, which Dr. Pepper also does? The important thing to note is that we must use intentionality of a sort that is not mental.

            What’s even more bananas and awesome for Dretske is that intentionality is also natural. There are things that occur naturally that “point to” things in (kind of) the same manner that our thoughts do. Finding a literal “pointer,” Dretske has us consider a compass. While the creation of the object itself is dependent on us (there are no compass trees or compass wells, etc.) the mechanism that causes the compass to point at the artic pole does occur naturally, and has nothing at all to do with us. It is not derived. Next: “describing what this naturally occurring indicator indicates is to describe it in intensional terms. What one is describing with these intensional terms is, in this sense, and intentional state of the indicator”(492). Basically, while the arctic connotes the location of polar bears, the compass is not an indicator of polar bears. It is an indicator of a geographical location, the arctic, where a lot of polar bears live (but even that isn’t quite correct, as it’s not the geography that allows a compass to work, it’s magnetic fields).

The Magnetic Fields

Et cetera, et cetera.

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It’s like this: I’m in your kiss.