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1 year ago
nprmusic:

We’re getting many reports that Beastie Boys member Adam Yauch has died of cancer. He was only 47 years old. 
We’re currently working on a proper obituary, but, for now, we’re spinning Paul’s Boutique on repeat, and listening a Beastie Boys interview with Fresh Air’s Terry Gross. 
Photo: Kristian Dowling/Getty Images


Heaven is Brooklyn today.

nprmusic:

We’re getting many reports that Beastie Boys member Adam Yauch has died of cancer. He was only 47 years old.

We’re currently working on a proper obituary, but, for now, we’re spinning Paul’s Boutique on repeat, and listening a Beastie Boys interview with Fresh Air’s Terry Gross.

Photo: Kristian Dowling/Getty Images

Heaven is Brooklyn today.

Cite Arrow via eddyizm-deactivated20131128
2 years ago

hitrecordjoe:

nerdistnews:

The trailer for Looper has finally arrived! We recently had the chance to sit down for a drink and a chat with the director himself, Rian Johnson. Watch the trailer, and then read our exclusive interview here: http://bit.ly/IjXY3d. What do you guys think?

The trailer for LOOPER is up!  I think you guys are really, REALLY gonna like this one. :oD

And, as an added bonus - check out this interview Rian did with Nerdist!

Yes yes a thousand times yes.

Cite Arrow via hitrecordjoe
2 years ago 2 years ago
If money is speech, poverty is silence. Cite Arrow OWS (via d-roth)

(Source: fauxlosophyblog)

Cite Arrow via eddyizm-deactivated20131128
2 years ago
I’m starring in a rock opera staging of David Bowie’s 1971 masterpiece album Hunky Dory, next Tuesday and Wednesday night at 9 PM. It’s very rad. 

For tix: www.kingkinghollywood.com

I’m starring in a rock opera staging of David Bowie’s 1971 masterpiece album Hunky Dory, next Tuesday and Wednesday night at 9 PM. It’s very rad.

For tix: www.kingkinghollywood.com

2 years ago
There is always something ridiculous about the emotion of people whom one has ceased to love. Cite Arrow Oscar Wilde, the New Shelton wet/dry (via nevver)
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nevver:

Win
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2 years ago
Miles Behind

At long last, after a five day stretch of girlfriend-less, jobless, distraction-free, glued-to-the-increasingly-uncomfortable-chair writing, a year of mental grind has finally crystallized into a finished…something. I’d call it a first draft, but that would mean that somewhere in there would be 1-59/60th drafts.

Such a feverish flurry of writing following a lengthy period of gestating/procrastinating seems to be my m.o., the same thing having happened with my previous two features. Now I have a completed screenplay to show for it, although it’s a total mess — which is what I was probably afraid of from the beginning.

That’s the process, I suppose: dig the diamond out, grimace at how ugly it is, start to brush some dirt off of it, see if it’s worth cleaning up, and then start cutting and polishing. I’m learning that gunning for perfection at any stage is untenable, simply one of many stalling tactics to avoid the heavy lifting of being a closer.

This screenplay also represents the culmination of bringing a project to life that I’ve been brewing and imagining and fighting with for the better part of a decade. While its path to the screen is still tremendously steep, there’s at least a certain amount of vindication that my collected ravings can be organized into some kind of coherent narrative.

Next steps: critiques and impressions from trusted readers, then perhaps some minor revisions before a table read. Then, back into the kitchen for some chopping of fat and gristle before giving the Miles Away Entertainment production engine its first joyride.

I’ll be so ecstatic to shift from writing convoluted science fiction noir alone in my room to writing blog posts about the unrivaled joy of being on set.

2 years ago
righttoleft

hitrecord:

righttoleft - a tiny story

If I read our story backwards, it’s about how I un-broke your heart, and then we were happy until one day you forgot about me forever. 

I love happy endings.

Tiny Story by Blodnasir

===

Not an easy one to illustrate here, but somebody must have a good idea, hey?

Well writ, Blodnasir. And Welcome! glad to see our Tiny Book bringing great new writers around…

<3

J

Contribute to the Tiny Stories Collaboration here!

Cite Arrow via hitrecordjoe
2 years ago
Saying Something

I should be writing.

It’s the constant nagging buzz in my head, far louder than other alarms like “I should be outside,” or “I shouldn’t eat that and that,” or “I should have that backseat shampooed in order to remove the stink of au jus.”

Yet I’ve been mostly reading, which I hope can be defended. After all, what is reading but shoveling coal into the boiler? Particularly when it’s of powerfully catalytic works like William Gibson’s Zero History or Naomi Klein’s The Shock Doctrine.

Oh but it’s daunting.

My entire life, every time I’ve taken in something brilliant (or awful, for that matter)—a film, a play, a concert, a book, an athletic achievement—I’ve experienced a surging desire to take it on and try to best it. It’s not exactly competitiveness, but more like a perceived existential gauntlet being thrown by the universe. Like my life isn’t being adequately lived if I don’t shove into that spotlight and show ‘em how it’s done.

I can’t say as to whether my talents emerged as a result of this, or vice versa. I suspect it’s probably the latter: cultivating my raw natural gifts was sort of an adolescent accident; the instinct to fuel a lifelong mission of ascension with those gifts developed probably about the time I realized my sneakers weren’t brand name and my hair wasn’t blond.

In a high school of 1400, in a city of 80,000, you don’t have to hit the stratosphere to rise above. Same for a university of 2000 in a city of 100,000. Even a metro of roughly 2 million offers a fairly wide open sky to write your name in. It all quickly shrinks beneath you, if you aim for orbit and beyond.

But then you see just how high orbit is. It’s way the hell up there, and requires more burning fire than you’ve expended in your entire life. It’s impossible to fake without crashing back to earth, and it gets harder the higher you go.

I stagger at the consuming passion, unabiding impatience, staggering sacrifice, and exhaustive energetic bumrush it certainly must take to create something transcendent. To elevate an idea or a conviction to critical mass and reality.

I read Ms. Klein, watch Jon Stewart and George Clooney, and I self-delude with a ferocious grandeur bordering on megalomania: I will bleed in the streets of the Arab Spring with Gigi Ibrahim. I will infiltrate Newscorp to allow Anonymous to hack Roger Ailes’ bank accounts. I will construct elaborate strategies for spending time touring my home state of Iowa, prior to the caucus of ‘20, maybe ‘24, not to mention previous home (swing) states of Virginia and Florida, laying the groundwork for a sweep into the White House and a chance to undo the damage this country has done to the world and to itself.

Thank god it all seems so safely out of reach, and so better suited for the talents of others.

Yet in this one idea, this one conviction, so tantalizingly close to realization, I know I am the one meant to carry it up and out into the wild reaches. I’m the one who’s supposed to say it, regardless of its impact. To not say it is to deny it existence.

And by my own peculiar laws, myself with it.


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