“Yeah, pictures of desserts and the fact that you can’t sit still for five minutes without sending and receiving texts. I mean, it does not look like any form of engagement with art that I recognize from any field. It looks like a distraction and an addiction and a tool. A useful tool. I’m not a technophobe. I’m on the internet all day, every day, except when I’m actually trying to write, and even then I’m on a computer and using, often, material that I’ve taken from the internet. It’s not that I have technophobia. It’s the notion that somehow this is a transformative, liberating thing that I take issue with, when it seems to me more like a perfection of the free market’s infiltration of every aspect of a human being’s waking life.”
My daughter sent me this. Do with that what you will.
“Fuck to this day. I mean, fuck to this day. It’s all just gonna boil up and wash us away.”
At what point can we just admit that this’d be a better country without the FBI?
Why don’t Americans know what really happened in Vietnam?
Martin Sheen drunk in the opening of Apocalypse Now.
Not to oversell this, but it’s the album of the year. Might be the album of the decade, in fact. Or the album of my life.