[…] It’s not fair. It’s cruel. To have us watch as Ted pissed around for nearly 10 years on his path to finding this woman just to lose her after 15 years together is cruel.
But life is cruel. People we love die and we are left with heartbreak and pain and confusion, but also stories. In stories, they live forever. And if the Mother now only exists as Ted’s story, the most important one he will ever tell, it hurts. It will destroy those of us who have dedicated almost a decade to this show.
But it also makes sense. This is not a gimmicky pulling-out-the-rug. It won’t cheapen its end; rather, it will make everything else, down to the tiniest points, matter. This has been painstakingly plotted, right down to us falling as in love with her as Ted does, seeing her as a mother with kids bouncing into her bed. It isn’t just a fairly brave way to end a mainstream network sitcom, but the show’s whole thematic purpose, the reason why this story mattered so much, why it was more than just a windbaggy man boring his kids.
Life is cruel. Death is cruel. But the stories. When they’re all that remain? You cling to those stories. You savor. Because the moments are fleeting. The stories are infinite.
La organización internacional Oxfam denuncia en un informe publicado hoy que las élites ricas se reparten el poder político para manipular las reglas del juego económico, socavando la democracia y creando un mundo en el que las 85 personas más acaudaladas acumulan tanta riqueza como la mitad de la población más pobre del planeta junta.
Time travel has captured the public imagination for much of the past century, but little has been done to actually search for time travelers. Here, three implementations of Internet searches for time travelers are described, all seeking a prescient mention of information not previously available. The first search covered prescient content placed on the Internet, highlighted by a comprehensive search for specific terms in tweets on Twitter. The second search examined prescient inquiries submitted to a search engine, highlighted by a comprehensive search for specific search terms submitted to a popular astronomy web site. The third search involved a request for a direct Internet communication, either by email or tweet, pre-dating to the time of the inquiry. Given practical verifiability concerns, only time travelers from the future were investigated. No time travelers were discovered. Although these negative results do not disprove time travel, given the great reach of the Internet, this search is perhaps the most comprehensive to date.
[…] Ms. Kwok described the term “caregiving” as “mainstream terminology.” For Asian-Americans, “it is what is expected of us,” she said. “We don’t see it as caregiving in the American definition of caregiving.”
Mr Solomon Northrop, a free coloured citizen of this State, born in Essex county, while residing at Saratoga in 1841, was hired on some pretext to go to the South. Having possessed himself of papers to show that he was a freeman, he went to Washington, and while there, as he avers, was fraudulently conveyed to a slave-pen. Demanding his liberty when he became conscious of his situation, he was beaten, and shipped to New Orleans, where he was twice sold, ultimately to a severe master, whom he served on a cotton plantation in Louisiana upwards of nine years. His friends in this State could not ascertain his whereabouts till September last, when they received a letter from him advising them that he was held in slavery, and asking their interposition to secure his release. The facts being submitted to Governor Hunt, his Excellency, pursuant to the laws of this State, appointed Henry B. Northrop, the State’s agent, to procure the liberation of its kidnapped citizen.
The agent repaired to Louisiana, armed with proof so conclusive of the freedom and citizenship of Solomon Northrop, that the counsel of the slaveholder advised his instant release; and on the 4th inst. the agent had the satisfaction of rescuing the victim from captivity of 11 years’ duration, and of bearing him on the way to rejoin a wife and children from whom he had been separated during that long period.
They stopped at Washington on the way home, and there procured the arrest of the slave-trader at whose instance Solomon had been confined in the slave-pen in 1841; but without the evidence of Solomon, which was excluded because of his colour, it was impossible to secure a conviction, and the trader was discharged.
I don’t want my love of movies and desire to discover them to metastasize into a compulsion that can never make a forest from the trees, nor that makes me think I can somehow, some day, finally see it all. I want to keep exploring genres and eras and nationalities because I love the promise of film, and I think the medium’s power as an art form for showing us who we are and who we wish we were is limitless. But I, myself, have limits. No matter how hard I try, masterpieces will slip by me. And rather than mourn the ones I missed — or tell myself I failed by missing them — I’d like to try and take comfort in those I found.
[…] He [Dalai Lama] explains that Buddhists categorize phenomena in three ways. The first category are “evident phenomena,” which can be observed and measured empirically and directly. The second category are “hidden phenomena,” such as gravity, phenomena that can’t be seen or touched but can be inferred to exist on the basis of the first category of phenomena. The third category, he says, are “extremely hidden phenomena,” which cannot be measured at all, directly or indirectly. The only access we can ever have to that third category of phenomena is through our own first-person experience, or through the first-person testimony of others.
"Now, for example," the Dalai Lama says, "his sort of experience."
He points at Alexander.
"For him, it’s something reality. Real. But those people who never sort of experienced that, still, his mind is a little bit sort of…" He taps his fingers against the side of his head. "Different!" he says, and laughs a belly laugh, his robes shaking. The audience laughs with him. Alexander smiles a tight smile.
"For that also, we must investigate," the Dalai Lama says. "Through investigation we must get sure that person is truly reliable." He wags a finger in Alexander’s direction. When a man makes extraordinary claims, a "thorough investigation" is required, to ensure "that person reliable, never telling lie," and has "no reason to lie."
[…] This is my lens: Moments, memory, story, beauty. Basically in that order. Humor is also in there, above beauty. Beauty has some intrinsic value, but, in my opinion, beauty shrouded in thin story is not worth as much as great story encased in the dregs of the world.7 Story, for me, gives purpose to the beauty.
The shift to a smartphone for photography scares me because I love the boxes. Love their purpose. Their simplicity. So dearly love knowing I’ve captured all that detail. Love their constraints and all the potential packed within them. But in the end, for me, photography has never been about a box. The box was always a means.
When the merits of Twitter are debated, one sentiment invariably is at the top of the con column: 140 characters are seldom enough to express the full weight of an idea. Or at least an idea that’s worth expressing.
People have found ways around this: conjoined tweets, live-tweeting, etc. … The novelist Teju Cole expanded on this theme on Wednesday, when he posted an entire short story via tweet. Yes, that has been done before. But Cole’s project was different, because the individual tweets were posted not by him, but by his followers, and then @TejuCole retweeted them in chronological order to form a sort of quilted story.
“My story, which had the (unannounced) title of ‘Hafiz,’ is a creative cousin to works like Shelley Jackson’s ‘Skin,’ a 2,095-word story that was told one tattooed word at a time on the bodies of 2,095 volunteers,” Cole wrote in an email, “and Janet Cardiff’s ’40 Part Motet,’ an audio installation of Thomas Tallis’s tremendous 1570 composition ‘Spem in Alium,’ for 40 standing audio speakers. But I went for this new device, the retweet.
“I was fascinated by how clean a retweet can be, how you can make someone else present on your timeline. This is usually a cause for anxiety (an anxiety people express with the plea “retweets are not endorsements”), but I thought it could also be an occasion for grace, for doing something unusual together. ‘Hafiz’ was a small attempt to put a number of people into a collaborative situation, to create a ‘we’ out of a story I might simply have published in the conventional way.”
Three of the authors are general practitioners who see many patients and couples who lead unnecessarily stressful lives by wanting to be right rather than happy. Mathieu encourages her psychotherapy clients “to try to live in the gray. There are a million shades of gray” (although a recent erotic novel suggests there are only 50) “on the spectrum of white to black, and each provides a much richer telling of a story that is hardly ever as clear as this or that. So, when we looked a bit more closely, we saw that ‘right versus happy’ was not so much about getting crowned the winner or loser, a genius or fool; it was more about flawed thinking and a desire to want to feel being in control.”1 This might be the first study to systematically assess whether it is better to be right than happy; a Medline search in May 2013 found no similar articles. Our null hypothesis was that it is better to be right than happy.
“Theory of Mind is the human capacity to comprehend that other people hold beliefs and desires and that these may differ from one’s own beliefs and desires. The currently predominant view is that literary fiction—often described as narratives that focus on in-depth portrayals of subjects’ inner feelings and thoughts—can be linked to theory of mind processes, especially those that are involved in the understanding or simulation of the affective characteristics of the subjects. [Scientists] provide experimental evidence that reading passages of literary fiction, in comparison to nonfiction or popular fiction, does indeed enhance the reader’s performance on theory of mind tasks.”—
More people now die of suicide than in car accidents, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, which published the findings in Friday’sissue of its Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report. In 2010 there were 33,687 deaths from motor vehicle crashes and 38,364 suicides.
“Hoje não é o primeiro dia do ano para os maias, os judeus, os árabes, os chineses e outros muitos habitantes deste mundo.
A data foi inventada por Roma, a Roma imperial, e abençoada pela Roma vaticana, e acaba sendo um exagero dizer que a humanidade inteira celebra esse cruzar da fronteira dos anos.
Mas uma coisa, sim, é preciso reconhecer: o tempo é bastante amável com a gente, seus passageiros fugazes, e nos dá permissão para crer que hoje pode ser o primeiro dos dias, e para querer que seja alegre como as cores de uma quitanda.”—Hoje, Os Filhos dos Dias Eduardo Galeano
“Esta sentença tem cinco palavras. Aqui estão mais cinco palavras. Sentenças com cinco palavras funcionam. Mas várias consecutivas trazem monotonia. Ouçam o que está acontecendo. A escrita está ficando entediante. Seu som vira um zumbido. É como um disco quebrado. Os ouvidos exigem alguma variação. Agora escute. Alterando a duração da sentença, eu crio música. Música. A escrita canta. Ela ganha um ritmo prazeroso, uma melodia, uma harmonia. Eu uso sentenças curtas. E então uso sentenças de extensão mediana. E às vezes, quando estou seguro de que o leitor está descansado, eu o envolvo em uma sentença de considerável extensão, uma sentença que queima de tanta energia e que ganha força com o ímpeto de um crescendo, como o rufar de tambores. A explosão dos pratos de uma bateria – um som que diz: ‘ouça isto, é importante’”.