agirlinlove

Month

April 2009

27 posts

“Yes, tyranny, a.k.a. our Democratically elected president. I think you might be confusing tyranny with losing, and I feel for you cause I’ve been there. A few times, in fact one of them was a bit of a nail biter. But you see, when the guy you disagree with gets elected, he’s probably going to do things you disagree with. He could cut taxes on the wealthy, remove government’s oversight capability, invade a country you thought shouldn’t be invaded but that’s not tyranny, that’s democracy. See now you’re in the minority - its supposed to taste like a shit taco. And by the way, if I remember correctly when disagreement was expressed about that president’s actions when y’all were in power, the response was “why do you hate America?”, “watch what you say,” “love it or leave it,” and “suck on my truck nuts.” … For God sakes, guys. You’ve been out of power for ten fucking weeks! That’s nothing. You’ve got a midterm election in twenty months! Pace your rage!” —

Jon Stewart (via tvquotes)

I was looking for this because seeing it twice now I still cheered a bit

Apr 9, 200982 notes
Apr 9, 2009
Apr 7, 2009
Apr 6, 2009
Apr 5, 2009
“Simplicity, patience, compassion.
These three are your greatest treasures.
Simple in actions and thoughts, you return to the source of being.
Patient with both friends and enemies,
you accord with the way things are.
Compassionate toward yourself,
you reconcile all beings in the world.”
— Laozi (Tao Te Ching) (via justbesplendid)
Apr 5, 20099 notes
Apr 3, 2009
Play
Apr 1, 2009

March 2009

26 posts

Mar 31, 2009
Mar 30, 2009686 notes
Mar 28, 2009
Amy Stein | Photography | Blog: Extreme Sheep Art → amysteinphoto.blogspot.com

it’s the dogs it’s just fing uncanny it makes my brain hum

Mar 25, 2009
Mar 25, 2009485 notes
Play
Mar 25, 200946 notes
Mar 25, 2009
Mar 25, 2009
Mar 25, 2009
Play
Mar 23, 2009
[If the Lena River courses north...]


If the Lena River courses north
farther than the Mississippi south,
draining Yablonovyy mountain snow
into the ice-laced Laptev Sea, then


somewhere her eyes’ hue must have a rival.
In the geothermal prehistory
of pressure under what became Brazil,
in the igneous light sharp-sifted by
its facet-concentrated chronicle.
In something luminous deep undersea.
In the kincob that confesses quetzal
careening through light-karsted canopy.
Or widow’s-mite-given onto insects:
a beetle’s back prism-tilled minutely;
dragonfly’s hexamitos-thrilled thorax;
crushed on my windshield as I drove away,
desire that kept glowing against the dusk,
star-sistered weeping that had been firefly.

H. L. Hix

Legible Heavens
Etruscan Press

Mar 19, 2009
Listen

Ares and I recording sensless banter for kicks

Mar 17, 2009
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