i know this book very well, but i had forgotten this part of the exchange.
we shall not live by bread alone. public works are for the public.
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i know this book very well, but i had forgotten this part of the exchange.
it rained this afternoon, and so i sat down to read, and i have to say this moment has always been one my favorite sudden shifts in narrative point of view.
i still have mine even though the soles of both boots have fallen off, but i can’t bear to throw them away.
❤️
y’all like merleau-ponty, huh?
give me niche posts or give me death.
Phenomenology Friday “But since, on the contrary, we are in and toward the world, and since even our reflections take place in the temporal flow that they are attempting to capture … there is no thought that encompasses all of our thought.”
agree!
good morning to every person of character trying to live out their principles in a corrupt and wicked world.
yes.
in these times, “the princess and the pea” becomes a dark parable. very sensitive, very powerful people are maybe not what you want.
*sigh*
Señor, señor, Let’s disconnect these cables, Overturn these tables. This place don’t make sense to me no more. Can you tell me what we’re waiting for, señor?
more Wolverine!
Helen Mirren still a powerhouse.
everybody is welcome at the sandlot. but you gotta act right.
i was combing through my shelves looking for something else, but then i found this. i remembered how he came to our campus to read, how he had performed this character he had created for this series, and how grateful i am for our minor poets who capture our small moments just so.
heraclitus was right.
could the answer to male loneliness be strolling down to the Piraeus with the buds to check out a new festival?
booooo
The man always knew how to wear his hat.
it’s great!
❤️
Legend.
lol. lmao, even.
Heresy is a fraught term. And the long history of how power and authority have abused what is or is not named heretical is straightforwardly sordid and shameful. But I am increasingly convinced the notion of heresy strongly describes what is happening in Trumpism.
cc @sharonk.bsky.social
“It is strange to live in a time when philosophy has found so many ways to damage if not to destroy itself.” — Gillian Rose, Mourning Becomes the Law
me: we shall not live by bread alone.
me, animated, taking a breath as i describe how Wordsworth shows how the imagination grounds us in the body so that we can feel spiritually connected to the wider world: student: do you really feel that way about poems? me, pausing, smiling: yes. student: man, i wish i could.
this episode of pete and pete is called cleaning out the garage.
with all due respect to professor bright, both of these schools are inadequate to humankind’s sense of ultimate concern. instead, it seems to me, the secret third thing is to become a good gardener. that is to say, the great hero of our time may be Samwise Gamgee.
sorry, cat. i think i’ve finally gotten the green light to build the back corner shed i’ve been hankering for.
the cat heard me finally turn off the mower, and he came around the corner to inspect my work. he stopped short and gave me a look of such withering disdain as he realized i had cut a portion of the tall grass we leave for pollinators and where he loves to hide and hunt for crickets and cicadas.
shhhhhhhhhhh
kierkegaard could not have been dweebier (laudatory)
whoa!!! i’m only one track in, and this is amazing. why have none of you told me about this before?!?
there it is again, that funny feeling.
I haven’t listened yet, but he is an amazing player.
my goodness, their guitarist, Kyser George, is a marvel.
out here in downtown huntsville with the truckers and the kickers and the cowboy angels for a little banjo and mandolin from Shadowgrass.
dare we hope that this campaign can teach the professional managerial class they do not have to respect the delusions of plutocratic wealth?
thank you! the ibuprofen is already starting to take the edge off. it's just amazing how so often our mind lets us forget the pains of the body, but sometimes the body says "not today, buddy!"
everyone: say the thing, everett. me, sighing, rubbing my left temple, squinting like an ugly dog: ugh. phenomenology, for the win.
shout out to everyone who struggles with this kind of thing regularly. this is for the birds.
it’s been a minute, but as my papa might have said, this headache of mine is like to beat the band.
i still don’t know how to process that he had that man’s book in his library and that he had read enough of it to write “disgusting” in the margin.
AMEN.
Now I’m going to mow my grass even though it probably doesn’t need it because Ms. Melba loved to look out on our tidy little street.
A somber day. Our neighbor, Ms. Melba, died last week. Her funeral was today. A beautiful celebration of a deeply kind and fiercely independent soul. Even to her last week at 85, she walked herself to her little church house every time the doors were open, rain or shine.
tell them one your friends online says we can never be cynical enough about such an institution.
Preguntaréis: Y dónde están las lilas? Y la metafísica cubierta de amapolas? Y la lluvia que a menudo golpeaba sus palabras llenándolas de agujeros y pájaros? Os voy a contar todo lo que me pasa.
Heresy is a fraught term. And the long history of how power and authority have abused what is or is not named heretical is straightforwardly sordid and shameful. But I am increasingly convinced the notion of heresy strongly describes what is happening in Trumpism.
oh, come on, Narnes and Boble. what are you doing not opening until ten?
we drove fifty miles for the 13 yr old’s swim meet, but it’s been delayed until noon bc of lightning. oh darn, we’ll just have to hang out at the bookstore for a while.
my process ontology means i will never argue with anyone’s strategy. i merely receive and affirm the dynamic and creative process of the actual occasion: the dishes are being washed.
Happy Birthday! 🎈
i triple dog dare you to post “the map is not the territory.”
🤯
if you had told me at twelve that i would become a very extremely modestly ok shot at forty two, i just flat out wouldn’t have believed you.
11 yr old and i out here on the driveway trading basket after basket after basket until we finally start slapstick fouling each other until we both fall in a heap belly laughing. keeps ya living.
lolsob
Dear Mr. Patel, I sincerely think it very good and healthy you are taking time away. But I will acknowledge I am a little bit sad we are not getting This Old House audio postcards while you are in dad mode. Best wishes in your journey of wrestling with multiple generations of building practices.
and some of the borrowers were angry, and they murmured against the librarian, for they always returned their books on time. but the librarian came out and pleaded with them: you are always with me, and all the library has is for you to borrow. but these books were found, and so we must make merry.
all my favorite librarians are like the parent in the parable of the prodigal son: for these, my children, were dead, but now have come back to life! they were lost, but now they are found!
❤️
lordy. what a voice.
Noooooooooo
look. i understand some people talk about this platform as some kind of great big choir preaching to itself, but i’m just glad to hang around with some citizens who refuse to shut up about how this shit is crazy.
Let no one say the art of the book review is dead.
i'm grillin' in the rain, just grillin' in the rain . . .
back at home. reading back over what i already read so i can underline everything i wanted to mark in the first place.
wilding out on this long weekend away: i’m reading my book on the back porch. without a pencil.
i need to go lie down. but there is no time. now it’s time to go and talk about Candide.
But this is what broke my heart today: None of my students disputed me. Instead, they nodded with sober recognition.
Today, in class, I read Creon’s decree. Then I read the infamous dictum from the odious Carl Schmitt. Then I read from Agamben’s State of Exception. Then I looked up and I was more plain and more straightforward than I have ever been before: This is where we are now. And this is very dangerous.
cc @whetmoser.com @joshweathersby.bsky.social @jeguth.bsky.social
i had accidentally let Willie Watson slip out of my regular rotation, but i have had the opening track of his new album on repeat since we saw him on tuesday night. i think i listened to it at least a dozen times today.
*slow clap*
excuse me. i suppose this platform is getting to me today. what I meant to say was this: at last! we disagree!
nope. they are an affront to human dignity.
debate is sophistry.
*chortle*
two nights of live music in a row and i woke up feeling loose.
Amanda Shires and Brittney Spencer sang Crowded Table, and that was worth the drive right there.
out here in downtown nashville with the truckers and the kickers and the cowboy angels for a little fiddle from Amanda Shires.
The god's-eye-view free from all prejudice and presumption envisioned by the early Enlightenment sciences is actually a dangerous illusion. That is, there is no neutral point of view available to human understanding. We are always already interpreting. It really is hermeneutics all the way down.
Precisely because we are finite creatures, we cannot escape our historicity, which means our consciousness of the world comes about in and through history, which means we are always already bound up in a given horizon of understanding, which is always partial, never total.
"Thus, hermeneutics is, as we have seen, a universal aspect of philosophy, and not just the methodological basis of the so-called human sciences." — Hans-Georg Gadamer. Truth and Method.
lordy. i do love that high lonesome sound.
if there were no music, i would not get through. i don't know why i know these things, but i do, i do. i don't know why i know these things, but i do.
Stuart Duncan and Russell Moore were powerhouse additions. Amazing.
Absolutely magisterial show by Alison Krauss & Union Station here in Chattanooga.
Willie Watson played us a bunch of story songs, and then, as he was telling us about shooting Buster Scruggs and singing “When a Cowboy Trades His Spurs For Wings,” David Rawlings came out of the shadows to help him sing it!
out here in downtown chattanooga with the truckers and the kickers and the cowboy angels for a little fiddle and banjo and dobro.
tuning into the Wrexham match and delighted to hear CBS Sports has given the call to the longtime stalwart Mark Griffiths.