Imprisoned By Dark
“He who fears he shall suffer, already suffers what he fears.” — Michel de Montaigne
Imprisoned By Dark. 2015 All Images courtesy of © Josephine Cardin Photography
The malady of civilized man is his knowledge of death. The good artist, like the wise man, addresses himself to life and invests with his private vision the deeds and thoughts of men. The creation of a work of art, like an act of love, is our one small yes at the center of a vast no.
(quote from «Gore Vidal on Monotheism»)
Few (if any) of these people rallying for ol’ Cecil have shown their public concern and care for Zimbabweans (beyond stifled jokes about the country being mismanaged and some such “woe is Zimbabwe and her faceless people” type jibes). I’m not asking that they do, but that they don’t is quite telling.
Amidst all the white noise, it’s become apparent to me that a lion, as you must already know, is more valuable than any Zimbabwean. Me included. Continue reading
Ballard was an eager advocate of science fiction at the start of his career as an alternative to the conventions of the 19th century realist novel, which he saw as being ill-equipped to deal with an emerging post-war society in the West that was “ruled by fictions of every kind—mass merchandising, advertising, politics conducted as a branch of advertising, the instant translation of science and technology into popular imagery, the increasing blurring and intermingling of identities within the realm of consumer goods, the preempting of any free or original imaginative response to experience by the television screen.” Reality had become so hard to decipher in the external world, the inner world of the self so fragmented, that the author could no longer claim to faithfully reproduce it naturalistically on the page. Science fiction of a type that sought to explore inner, rather than outer space (“Earth is the only alien planet,”) was a form that had a better chance of getting at the truth of late-20th century existence. No journeys to distant galaxies, no time-travel. The type of SF stories he approved of were “extrapolations of the immediate present, nightmares at noon earned from the abrasive dust of the pavements we all walk.” He liked to think of himself as a kind of scientist and his stories as laboratories where he could test a hypothesis on his characters in extreme situations and see where it led.
How Much does that cost?
But Yelp is actively working to scrub the page of the negative reviews, which currently top 2,300. That number has fluctuated down to as low as 1,600 but has consistently rebounded to 2,000+.
In a statement, a Yelp spokesperson said “Media-fueled reviews typically violate our Content Guidelines … Reviews aren’t the place for rants … that don’t address the core of the consumer experience. Our user support team ultimately removes reviews that violate these guidelines.”
Note: But, but, he “lost his job” already, why scrub them?
Worst Day Ever?
Today was the absolute worst day ever
And don’t try to convince me that
There’s something good in every day
Because, when you take a closer look,
This world is a pretty evil place.
Some goodness does shine through once in a while
Satisfaction and happiness don’t last.
And it’s not true that
It’s all in the mind and heart
True happiness can be attained
Only if one’s surroundings are good
It’s not true that good exists
I’m sure you can agree that
It’s all beyond my control
And you’ll never in a million years hear me say
Today was a very good day
Now read it from bottom to top, the other way,
And see what I really feel about my day.
Not long afterwards, the poem was entered into a poetry competition on PoetryNation.com, making it into the semi-finals before ultimately being passed over.
And I salute my half-life War Boys…who will ride with me, eternal on the highways of Valhalla.
I am your redeemer. It is by my hand you will rise from the ashes of this world.
via Séamus Gallagher.