Jenny Holzer 

"We have to be militants for kindness, subversive for sweetness and radicals for tenderness." - Cornel West

Try a little tenderness.



Jenny Holzer 

"We have to be militants for kindness, subversive for sweetness and radicals for tenderness." - Cornel West

Try a little tenderness.

(via duhdoydorothy)

She has the idea that there are a lot of things she has been waiting for weeks to do and now she will do them with the bright quickness of montage, like the middle section of a movie.

—Zadie Smith, NW


Ron Swanson is always right. Always.

Give me all the Swanson you have.

(Source: BuzzFeed)

: #GiveToWendy

"This isn’t to say that straight white men never speak up for our interests. But there is a level of comfort in knowing that the person speaking has lived your experience. And shared experience is also a galvanizing force. By the time Davis had stopped talking, hours later, this week was no…

Zadie, Zadie, Zadie, Zadie.


I locked eyes with her once. I was on my way out of the Urban Outfitters on 14th and 6th, after one of those futile shopping trips that drive you nuts precisely because you can feel your payday riches burning a hole in your wallet, itching to be free.

We crossed paths. I stared. She stared. I opened my mouth. I closed my mouth. She smiled and said, “Hi.” I smiled back meekly, a weird croak bubbling passed my lips. Then I left.

So, yeah. Nice work, D.

I’ve reread On Beauty six times in the last six years. Because her voice is amazing. Because I’m always expecting to figure out exactly what it is about the book that makes me so gleeful. Because reading OB always ends with me carrying it around for a week after I’ve finished, waiting to corner friends long enough to force it on them.

Because of gems like these:

"In fact, when she was not in company it didn’t seem to her that she had a face at all…And yet in college, she was famed for being opinionated, a ‘personality’ — the truth was she didn’t take these public passions home, or even out of the room, in any serious way. She didn’t feel that she had any real opinions, or at least not in the way other people seemed to have them. Once the class was finished she saw at once how she might have argued the thing just as viciously and successfully the other way round; defended Flaubert over Foucault; rescued Austen from insult instead of Adorno. Was anyone ever genuinely attached to anything? She had no idea. It was either only Zora who experienced this odd impersonality or it was everybody, and they were all play-acting as she was.”


"People talk about the happy quiet that can exist between two lovers, but this too was great; sitting between his sister and brother, saying nothing, eating. Before the world existed, before it was populated, and before there were wars and jobs and colleges and movies and clothes and opinions and foreign travel — before all of these things there had only been one person, Zora, and only one place: a tent in the living room made from chairs and bed-sheets. After a few years, Levi arrived; space was made for him; it was as if he had always been. Look at them both now, Jerome found himself in their finger joints and neat conch ears, in their long legs and wild curls. He heard himself in their partial lisps caused by puffy tongues vibrating against slightly noticeable buckteeth. He did not consider if or how or why he loved them. They were just love: they were the first evidence he ever had of love, and they would be the last confirmation of love when everything else fell away."


“‘Right, I look fine. Except I don’t,’ said Zora, tugging sadly at her man’s nightshirt. This was why Kiki had dreaded having girls: she knew she wouldn’t be able to protect them from self-disgust. To that end she had tried banning television in the early years, and never had a lipstick or a woman’s magazine crossed the threshold of the Belsey home to Kiki’s knowledge, but these and other precautionary measures had made no difference. It was in the air, or so it seemed to Kiki, this hatred of women and their bodies — it seeped in with every draught in the house; people brought it home on their shoes, they breathed it in off their newspapers. The was no way to control it.”

I would go on, but it’s after 9 a.m., and food.

Actually, what I want is to sample the goddamn dip without being hit on.

  • Me: Can I try the jalapeno hummus?
  • Guy working at the farmer's market: A pretty girl like you can have anything she wants.
  • Me: [silent eyeroll] [mouth full of hummus]
  • Guy: I'm off work at 7:30.
  • Me: So you're saying I have to make a decision about this hummus at some point in the next hour?

And to the extent that I am still a quasi-nationalist, this is the portion of the tradition that I cling strongest to: There’s nothing “white” about reading Rousseau or Tocqueville or visiting Paris. This isn’t getting above your raising. It’s burning down the Big House, the caveat being that you can bring some of this back and flip it to relate to the nature of your people. And you always can. Because your people are human.

When Dostoevsky met Dickens in 1862 — a meeting that is hard to imagine — Dickens explained that there were two people inside him, ‘one who feels as he ought to feel and one who feels the opposite.’ […] Out of these two people he constructed his universe of characters, good and evil. Dostoevsky’s comment is laconic and ambiguous. ‘Only two people?’ he asked.

Verlyn Klinkenborg, The Whirling Sound of Planet Dickens (via curbsidequo)

Haha, cha’mon, Dickens! Get real.

(via curbsidequo)





Louis CK as Abraham Lincoln in SNL Skit (by Thomas Woeller)

“i don’t have any black friends”

- abe lincoln

Favorite SNL sketch of the season, hands down.

Stevie Nicks, the Fairy Godmother of Rock

“People say, ‘But you’re alone.’ But I don’t feel alone. I feel very un-alone. I feel very sparkly and excited about everything. I know women who are going, like, ‘I don’t want to grow old alone.’ And I’m like, ‘See, that doesn’t scare me.’ Because I’ll never be alone. I’ll always be surrounded by people. I’m like the crystal ball and these are all the rings of Saturn around me.”

“My generation fought very hard for feminism, and we fought very hard to not be labeled as you had to have a husband or you had to be in a relationship, or you were somehow not a cool chick,” she says. “And now I’m seeing that start to come around again, where people say to you, ‘Well, what do you mean you don’t have a boyfriend? You don’t want to have one? You don’t want to be married?’ And you’re like, ‘Well, no, I don’t, actually. I’m fine.’ And they find a lot of reasons why you’re not fine. But it just seems to be coming back. Being able to take care of myself is something that my mom really instilled in me,” she says. “I can remember her always saying, ‘If nothing else, I will teach you to be independent.’ ”

I can’t with how much I love this woman. 

Being born a woman is an awful tragedy. Yes, my consuming desire to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, bar room regulars—to be a part of a scene, anonymous, listening, recording —all is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always in danger of assault and battery. My consuming interest in men and their lives is often misconstrued as a desire to seduce them, or as an invitation to intimacy. Yet, God, I want to talk to everybody I can as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night.

Sylvia Plath

That this is totally applicable over a half a century later speaks to both Plath’s razor-sharp insight, and to a lack of real change. Yes, we’ve made headway since the ’50s, but the fact that the points made here in this quote — the crux of the argument, really — sit openly unmoved is pretty disheartening. And gross. And sad.

(Source: raccoonwounds, via curbsidequo)