“No bullshit, but I never leave the house without a mix for anything: Falling in love. Witnessing a death. Disappointment. Impatience. Traffic. I carry a mix for any human condition. Anything really good or bad happens to me, and my way not to overreact—like, to distance my emotions—is to locate the exact perfect soundtrack for that moment. Even the night Rant died, my automatic first thought was: Philip Glass’s Violin Concerto II, or Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G Major?”—Shot Dunyun. From Rant, by Chuck Palahniuk.
I’ve long been obsessed with survival kits. There is a very slim chance that I will ever need one, but there’s something about being able to cram all of life’s bare necessities into tiny little boxes and bags that’s strangely appealing.
If you’ve seen one of these kits, you’ve seen ‘em all. The…
“Wonder is not a disease. Wonder, and its expression in poetry and the arts, are among the most important things which seem to distinguish men from other animals, and intelligent and sensitive people from morons.”—Alan Watts (via rebeccawilde)
Yamaoka Tesshu, as a young student of Zen, visited one master after another. He called upon Dokuon of Shokoku.
Desiring to show his attainment, he said: “The mind, Buddha, and sentient beings, after all, do not exist. The true nature of phenomena is emptiness. There is no realization, no delusion, no sage, no mediocrity. There is no giving and nothing to be received.”
Dokuon, who was smoking quietly, said nothing. Suddenly he whacked Yamaoka with his bamboo pipe. This made the youth quite angry.
"If nothing exists," inquired Dokuon, "where did this anger come from?"
This time last year Stephen Molyneux (Gigantic Blonde Boy, Horsehair Everywhere, Poet Named Revolver) was living in Thailand. Riding around on motorbikes, running through the jungle, playing noise shows at Bangkok art spaces, going on visa-renewing border-crossing adventures, all while the…