Tariq's Tumble

May 09

[video]

Apr 02

To Body Mod Away From Brownness and Back -

Feb 11

“I still love the people I’ve loved, even if I cross the street to avoid them.” — Uma Thurman  (via stellablu)

(Source: jarrodis, via tortillaknife)

Jan 22

Snapchat, Huxley and Orwell -

Dec 19

“I would like to see a qualified Negro as President of the United States. But I suspect that even if this were today possible, the necessities of the office would shape his actions far more than his racial identity.” — Ralph Ellison  (via homonoire)

(via theblackamericanprincess)

Dec 05

The Spirit and the Soul | Jack Gilbert

Oct 23

“Had I the crude and scrannel rhymes to suit
the melancholy hole upon which all
the other circling crags converge and rest,
the juice of my conception would be pressed
more fully; but because I feel their lack,
I bring myself to speak, yet speak in fear;
for it is not a task to take in jest,
to show the base of all the universe-
nor for a tongue that cries out, “mama,” “papa.”” — Dante Alighieri, Inferno

God offers to every mind its choice between truth and repose. Take which you please, — you can never have both. Between these, as a pendulum, man oscillates.
He in whom the love of repose predominates will accept the first creed, the first philosophy, the first political party he meets, — most likely his father’s. He gets rest, commodity, and reputation; but he shuts the door of truth.

He in whom the love of truth predominates will keep himself aloof from all moorings, and afloat. He will abstain from dogmatism, and recognize all the opposite negations, between which, as walls, his being is swung.
He submits to the inconvenience of suspense and imperfect opinion, but he is a candidate for truth, as the other is not, and respects the highest law of his being.

” — Emerson

Oct 21

Sometimes, often while drunk, I leave myself notes, only to find them months or years later. Here’s one I stumbled across from June 2013. I was somewhere in Colombia.

Every song seems an ode to my inadequacy. I need salsa like I need air. I’ll never breathe free until my feet know what my hips have known from the first instant I stood erect. What’s wrong with me? Why don’t I just know? Salsa is all that matters; the rest is just waiting to die.

Oct 01

Google will soon require that commenters on youtube have a Google+ account, removing anonymous commenting and making cheap pseudonyms more expensive. Any thoughtful person should have mixed feelings about this, especially those who want to keep the internet a safe place for dissent. That said, every time I read comments on the web I want to put together a brigade of hackers exposing the faces, the real names of those who are suddenly brazenly backwards when they don the pseudonymic digital mask.

“And if all that is meaningless, I want to be cured
Of a craving for something I cannot find
And of the shame of never finding it.” — T.S. Eliot, The Cocktail Party (via bbook)

(Source: larmoyante, via thepiquant)

Sep 30

[video]

Note to self: Don’t let the ache of all the books you haven’t read, may never read, cripple you - keeping you from reading any books at all.

On changing the world and not

Dear technology startup: It sends a chill down my spine when you say you’ll change the world. Hitler changed the world. The Koch brothers are having a “scalable impact”. I need you to be more specific. What is the magnitude of the change? Is it tectonic or incremental? What are its moral dimensions? Will the world be more or less just as a result? Build cool stuff, by all means, but don’t delude yourself. Lies of effusion are some of the most insidious.

Frank Chimero puts it brilliantly:

Revolutionary, disruptive, magical, wizards, and on and on—contemporary digital culture has co-opted the language of revolution and magic without the muscle, ethics, conviction, or imagination of either. And it’s not that those things aren’t possible, we just aren’t living up to their meaning and instead saturating ourselves with hyperbole. These are words you have to earn, and slinging them around strips the words of their powerful meaning. Can you take a real revolution seriously if you are bombarded with messaging that says your phone is revolutionary?

Sep 27

“Weep not now, my love.
For as all die, so shall we.
But it is not dying that should pain us.
It is the waiting, the intermission when we cannot act, when our will is shackled by tyranny.
That hurts.
Yet somehow, I know the miracle of the world will be wrought again.
The space will be filled in spite of the hurt, by the immensity of love that will defy dying, and death.
Good night, my love.” —

Poem by Ghanaian poet and statesman Kofi Awoonor, who was killed in the Westgate Mall attack on September 21, 2013.

(via valinkenya)

(Source: valgtravels, via thepiquant)