Mercury, Venus, and Saturn align with the Pyramids of Giza for the first time in 2,737 years on December 3, 2012
The other day I saw Disclosure & Skrillex on molly & it was outrageously fun.
…I don’t even know who I am anymore…
A full-scale replica of Egypt’s Great Sphinx has been built in a Chinese theme park.
If tumblr—and tumblr as a metonymy for Internet-ness—has taught me anything, it would be that people don’t change very much their concepts of what gets compartmentalized into the glow of their fetish-boxes. Their faces, their pages, what they are willing to witness at once. Or, it would be that the information we encounter in one moment, like say in a photograph of your room right now with you in it at this point in time (the room that is yours because you are in it, responsible or irresponsible for its laws), can be worked over for the fetish, can be read into with lenses right down to the most contingent of collections, being those things that amass in the dark without our knowing and which speak the language of archeology when we know them, which is just to say we know them. The spectral being any touch of ‘personality’ that is an affront to the category, that speaks in 8 or 9 different volumes at once or is a deviation from the normal and regular way the accident is observed since you last could remember.
A slice of cake, once cut, can not recall its nation. Eight slices of cake on a cake stand have no idea that they are circled by other slices of cake. Eight slices of crumb cake are interrupted by a slice of carrot cake, making nine nice slices of cake. This makes the crumb cake realize something about who he or she is. But it can not change the fact that each fact stops at the border of limit, and yet there is what art has not swept over, that which is a lot like the moisture of cakes carrot and crumb—a kind of intelligence thriving on its own obscurity and unattainability. That which gives a great piece of sushi its gravitational pull.
Tom Millea - Yosemite swimmer, 1989
Gillian Carnegie (British, b. 1971), Elevator, 1999. Oil on masonite, 130.2 x 23.1 cm.
Sanity as the most horrible thing to expect from another, when you yourself have been implicated and infected.