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Monday, 20 February 2017

Boy with hand grenade ("My statement as to amusement parks where dinosaurs are real was a reference to a TV I heard playing in another room") / hello Florida / Brecht: In the Swamp

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As for unity....  Photo @nategowdy: image via Reading The Pictures @ReadingThePix, 19 February 2017



The Dark Arts #helloflorida #ginupthebase: image via Reading The Pictures @ReadingThePix, 19 February 2017
Ginning up the base


"Heh. What kind of weirdo has a cardboard cutout of Donald Tru—" [Eric Trump's eyes begin to dart around the room, laughing nervously]:
image via Parker Molloy @ParkerMolloy, 19 February 2017

  
Another Curious Orange Fact

Boy with hand grenade. (Apologies to Arbus.)
: image via Reading The Pictures @ReadingThePix, 19 February 2017


Frank Bruni @FrankBruni 
Ms. Trump's (his mom's) meatloaf is on the menu -- actually it's the house specialty -- at Mar-a-Lago. 
tweet via Jason Horowitz @jasondhorowitz, 16 February 2017

Eat this meat loaf hand grenade

Trump's use of "sick" is pure Union Turnpike. He is the guy pouring [sic!] over NY Post in the bagel place. Utterly familiar. Except, president.: tweet via Jason Horowitz @jasondhorowitz, 17 February 2017

This meatloaf is sick!

Child with a toy hand grenade in Central Park, N.Y.C.

Child with a toy hand grenade in Central Park, N.Y.C.: photo by Diane Arbus, 1962. An iconic image that embodies the awkward tension between childhood tomfoolery and primal violence, this has become one of the most celebrated photographs in the history of the medium. America's historic transition from the complacent isolationism of the 1950s to the sociopolitical turmoil that would emerge in the late 1960s and 1970s seems to seethe beneath the surface of this image, underscoring Arbus' prescience and intuitive understanding of her time.: image via Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History

Cut to: Union Turnpike, night


The file photo Maddow's blog posted after Trump "media enemies" tweet. From Mexico, no less. Even bright side is dark side.
: image via Reading The Pictures @ReadingThePix, 19 February 2017


In the Swamp

Warning | by PositiveAboutNegatives

Warning [Lakewood Park, Florida]
: photo by Steve, 30 March 2016


Warning | by PositiveAboutNegatives

Warning [Lakewood Park, Florida]: photo by Steve, 30 March 2016

Warning | by PositiveAboutNegatives

Warning [Lakewood Park, Florida]: photo by Steve, 30 March 2016

Apocalyptic Landscape | by PositiveAboutNegatives

Apocalyptic Landscape [Florida]. The invasive species killed off by prescribed burns.
: photo by Steve, 14 February 2017


Apocalyptic Landscape | by PositiveAboutNegatives

Apocalyptic Landscape [Florida]. The invasive species killed off by prescribed burns.
: photo by Steve, 14 February 2017


Apocalyptic Landscape | by PositiveAboutNegatives

Apocalyptic Landscape [Florida]. The invasive species killed off by prescribed burns.: photo by Steve, 14 February 2017

Posted | by PositiveAboutNegatives

Posted [Lake Okeechobee, Florida]
: photo by Steve, 27 July 2016


Posted | by PositiveAboutNegatives

Posted [Lake Okeechobee, Florida]
: photo by Steve, 27 July 2016


Lake Worth | by PositiveAboutNegatives

 [Lake Worth, Florida]: photo by Steve, 27 May 2016

Lake Worth | by PositiveAboutNegatives

 [Lake Worth, Florida]: photo by Steve, 27 May 2016

Lake Worth | by PositiveAboutNegatives

 [Lake Worth, Florida]: photo by Steve, 27 May 2016

Bertolt Brecht: In the Swamp ("The one that bled to death among the roots was conquered. The one that trampled the most young trees was the victor.")

10

ABANDONED RAILROAD WORKERS' TENT ALONG THE GRAVEL PITS OF LAKE MICHIGAN

 November 19, 1915, about two A.M.

SHLINK. GARGA.

SHLINK: The everlasting clamor of Chicago has stopped. Seven times three days the heavens have been pale, the air has turned blue-gray like grog. Now there is silence, which hides nothing.

GARGA (smoking): You fight light-heartedly. What metabolism! I still had my childhood before me. The oil fields with their little blue rape seeds. The polecat in the glens, the carefree rapids.

SHLINK: True. It was written all over your face! Now it is hard as amber with here and there a carcass embedded in it, a transparent carcass. 

GARGA: You went on being lonely?

SHLINK: Forty years.

GARGA: Now, at the end, you fall victim to the black mania of this planet -- the mania for contact.

SHLINK (smiling): Through enmity?

GARGA: Through enmity.

SHLINK: You have understood, then, that we are comrades, comrades in a metaphysical action. Our acquaintance was short. For a time, however, it was predominant. The time flew by. The stages of life are not those of memory. The end is not the goal, the last episode is not more important than any other. I have twice owned a lumber business. Two weeks ago it was again registered under your name.

GARGA: Have you a premonition of death? 

SHLINK: Here is the master ledger of your lumber business. It begins where ink was spilled over the figures.  

GARGA: You have kept it on you? Open it yourself. It must certainly be dirty. (He reads.A clean account. Nothing but withdrawals. On the seventeenth: Lumber business, twenty-five thousand dollars for Garga. Before that: another ten for clothes. After that, once: twenty-two dollars for Marie Garga, "our" sister. At the very end: the whole business burned to the ground. -- I can't sleep any more, I'll be glad when you have quicklime over you.

SHLINK: Don't deny what was, Garga! Don't look just at the accounts. Remember the question as we originally put it. Pull yourself together: I love you.

GARGA (observes him): But how revolting of you. You are horribly unappetizing, an old man like you!

SHLINK: Possibly I won't get an answer, but if you get the answer, think of me, even if by that time I have mud in my mouth. What are you listening for?

GARGA (lazily): You have a heart -- or traces of one. You are old.

SHLINK: Is it good to show one's teeth?

GARGA: When they are good teeth. 

SHLINK: The endless isolation of man makes even of enmity an unattainable goal. Even with animals it is impossible to come to an understanding.

GARGA: Nor does speech help all that much. 

SHLINK: I have watched animals. Love -- warmth from bodily proximity -- is our only grace in all the darkness. But the union of the organs if the only union, and it can never bridge the gap of speech. Still, they come together to beget new beings who can stand at their side in their inconsolable isolation. And the generations look coldly into each other's eyes. If you stuff a ship with bodies till it bursts, there will still be such loneliness in it that one and all will freeze. Are you listening, Garga? Yes, so terrible is the isolation that there isn't even a fight. That's where mankind comes from. Hairy, with the teeth of an ape, good beasts who knew how to live, everything was so easy, they simply tore each other to bits. I can see them now, clearly, how, their flanks trembling, they stared into the whites of each other's eyes, sunk their teeth into each other's throats, and rolled down the slopes. The one that bled to death among the roots was conquered. The one that trampled down most young trees was the victor. You have your ears cocked for something, Garga?     

from Bertolt Brecht: In the Swamp (Im Dickicht), 1920-1922, English version by Eric Bentley


Sawooei | by efo

Sawooei. El Cerrito. Mysterious Camera.: photo by efo, 18 February 2017

Sawooei | by efo

Sawooei. El Cerrito. Mysterious Camera.: photo by efo, 18 February 2017

Sawooei | by efo

Sawooei. El Cerrito. Mysterious Camera.: photo by efo, 18 February 2017