A Polysyndetonic Life

"Nine to five is how to survive, I ain’t trying to survive
I’m tryna live it to the limit and love it a lot"

Sean Carter

thexxsoundboard:

James Blake - Overgrown 

yen-yaw:

good-universe:

needlesslycrunk:

Day made.

If I need a smile… I consult this pony.

I want this.  So bad.

nevver:

Half full, half empty

(Source: zenpencils.com, via yen-yaw)

"At times, Chomsky can be maddening. He is not a particularly good listener, and he aims to win every argument, preferably by taking the most contrarian stance possible, like arguing that language evolved not for communication but for internal thought. The odder the arguments are, the more he seems to enjoy himself. A friend of mine was a student of Chomsky’s in the mid-seventies, and he recalls his strategy for meeting with Chomsky. Instead of the usual one-on-one meetings that most students have with their advisors, my friend would bring a classmate along. The two students would take turns debating Chomsky, one stepping in when the other ran out of things to say. Chomsky would win every argument (or at least never admit defeat), and the two would go home exhausted, but also elated. Each debate with Noam brought them a step closer to understanding the true nature of language and mind."

“Happy Birthday, Noam Chomsky” by Gary Marcus

Why aren’t all academic experiences like this?

stu-pidface:

i could care less about the royal family.

follow this blog!

yen-yaw:

Finished Reading:The Crying of Lot 49.

Conclusion: a book worth reading twice.

Not for information’s sake, mind you. This is a book that plays off its fastidiousness. Pynchon is great at making a point through his characters and through scenes, to create something that comes off the page. His take on the postmodern actually works because of the absurdity and the references to that absurdity. You see where DFW gets his ideas. Because the conclusion of this book almost made me saw, “Aw.” In awe. You see how the human mind is bent sometimes on organizing as a chaotic manifest which otherwise doesn’t become anything, anything at all. Or maybe it becomes something seriously personal, perilously and endlessly dimensional for the mind.

But TCoL 49 is a book I have little qualms with. Pynchon is an endearingly intelligent individual. And it’s an honor to read such a succinct and round text. When I got to the ending, I smirked at the final sentence. Because it wasn’t clever. It was true to the story. And that’s all I can ask for.

nevver:

“She wrote to him fairly regularly, from a paradise of triple exclamation points and inaccurate observations.” — J.D. Salinger, Nine Stories