delete the adjectives's Tumblelog

my friday night. i’ve never seen up and if it isn’t as wonderful as you led me to believe, tumblr, we’re gonna have a serious talk. at least i’ll have star crunch. love you, lil debbie.

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

thenotes:

Arcade Fire /// “Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)” /// Funeral

Reading the glut of best-of-decade pieces got me thinking about Arcade Fire, regenerative novelty and so-called sophomore slumps. Listmakers unanimously, through group consensus or otherwise, put Funeral near the top while pretending Neon Bible didn’t exist—though The Onion’s A.V. Club did provide one asterisky dissent. Indeed, whenever I found myself thinking the latter was an improvement on the former, I’d listen to “Rebellion (Lies)” and instantly disabuse myself of the notion. But it wasn’t as though I’d compared the two fairly: their single best song stacked against eleven pretty good ones? It’s like writing off the stylish wardrobe of the girl you adore because it doesn’t include the stunning dress she had on when you met her, that first image embedded forever in your sense memory. It isn’t to say you couldn’t fall in love once again at the sight of her wearing something new, it’s just that the familiarity of the person under the clothes cuts two ways—you are already enthralled; you already know what there is to love and even why you love it. Of course, the minute she puts that original dress on, at your behest, after keeping it stashed away for months—and here I’m thinking of the rain-streaked-window opening of “Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels),” which I’ve gone long periods without listening to—that mystical sense of discovery flares up again. This is remembered but new, its remembered newness somehow overwhelming the novelty of actually new stuff. You’ve managed, in a palpable way, to start over again. What cognitive transaction goes haywire here? How is it even remotely possible?

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

the temper trap - down river

currently getting me through paper writing. the combination of persistent drums and a refrain of “GO, DON’T STOP” equals necessary motivation to not give up just yet.

faulkner’s typewriter

8:35 pm

8:08 pm

thedailywhat:

TGIAF.

[via.]

my life at the moment

4:05 pm

maxistentialist:

I want your handwriting.

Have you ever considered how strange it is that handwriting fonts have come to convey a kind of folksy authenticity in the design lexicon of our age? It’s disingenuous. Handwriting fonts - especially the ones you see everywhere (Comic Sans, Papyrus, Lucida Handwriting) - are mechanically reproduced and manipulated into a kind of cloying, fake, plastic perfection.

Penmanship is mostly a lost art - it is (rightfully) taught less and less in school, and the opportunities for people to see your handwriting are few and far between. As a result, modern handwriting looks really cool. What’s authentic and charming and inviting about real handwriting are the little imperfections that prove it came from a real person.

SO - I have decided to become a collector of handwriting.

Here’s how it works:

You reblog this or email/Facebook me

I’ll arrange for you to pick up a template

You’ll fill it out

I will create a TrueType font from your handwriting and send it to you

As I collect handwriting, I will periodically post things rendered in the handwriting of the donor - things they have taught me, important aspects of our relationship, jokes they have told me… we’ll see.

Please donate today.

dude! i wanna do it! slip it under my door or i’ll just come down sometime or something

2:42 am

December 2, 2009

Elvis Perkins in Dearland - Doomsday (Gold Room Session)

i don’t let doomsday bother me / do you let it bother you?

7:43 pm

storygoes / m3dusamelissa

12:09 pm