btw, the molotov cocktail got named that by Finns who used them when fighting back against the Soviet Union’s imperialist invasion of their country, as a mocking reference to Vyacheslav Molotov’s propaganda about said invasion (“we’re not bombing them, we’re just flying in food deliveries because they’re starving!”)
so i’m not gonna stop y'all from making molotov cocktail jokes, but you’d better not turn around and post soviet apologia afterwards. respect the cocktail’s history
I am not going to do the whole Jesus and animals thing. It’s just not my style.
Sarah Burgoyne, Christian Canadian Poet
KAWAI Gyokudō(川合玉堂 Japanese, 1873-1957)
via more
Ella M. Singer Somewhere in the Forest
Glengarry Glen Ross is on Netflix, you should watch it a lot. The easy "critique of capitalism" is that "second prize is a set of steak knives" because that's how little it costs to motivate you to work harder for them, and if that doesn't work there's always "third prize is you're fired." But the real wisdom which is not about capitalism but which is about narcissism comes from understanding that first prize isn't a Cadillac Eldorado, you think Alec Baldwin needs a car? There is no first prize. Real closers don't want the prize, they want to be the best, that's why they will practice practice practice and don't play the lottery. The car is a temptation only for people who do not know their own value, the value of their own work, who won't lift a finger to advance themselves, who are motivated only by threats or by rewards, who would rather have the appearance of success than actual success. "I got an article in the Times!" celebrates the person whose brain is broken. "Alec Baldwin's character is a raging narcissist!" Jesus are you stupid, Alec's name is MacGuffin, that's why he's in Act I and never again yet propels the story forward. It is irrelevant whether Alec Baldwin has metal testicles or pathological grandiosity, what matters is that after years of C minus work, what finally gets those dummies fired up is First Prize or Third Prize, left to themselves they meander in mediocrity while deluding themselves that they are more than what they do. "I was number one in '87!" So was Alf.
The Last Psychiatrist
Joanna Karpowicz „7 AM, Poland”, 42 x 29,7 cm, acrylic on paper, 2024 (from artist's fb page)
When we live constantly in the abstract - whether it be abstractness of thought or of feelings one has thought - it soon comes about that contrary to our own feelings and our own will the things in real life, which, according to us, we should feel most deeply turn into phantasms. Living so much on one's imagination actually erodes one's ability to imagine, especially one's ability to imagine the real. Living mentally on what is not and cannot be, we are, in the end, unable even to ponder what might really be.
Fernando Pessoa Book of Disquiet