1. 14:44 20th Feb 2014

    Notes: 159

    Reblogged from theartofgooglebooks


    Neon moiré.

    Throughout Ranch Life and the Hunting-trail by Theodore Roosevelt (1888). Original from the New York Public Library. Digitized May 15, 2007.

  2. 08:58 19th Feb 2014

    Notes: 29

    Reblogged from ayjay

    If a poet meets an illiterate peasant, they may not be able to say much to each other, but if they both meet a public official, they share the same feeling of suspicion; neither will trust one further than he can throw a grand piano. If they enter a government building, both share the same feeling of apprehension; perhaps they will never get out again. Whatever the cultural differences between them, they both sniff in any official world the smell of an unreality in which persons are treated as statistics. The peasant may play cards in the evening while the poet writes verses, but there is one political principle to which they both subscribe, namely, that among the half dozen or so things for which a man of honor should be prepared, if necessary, to die, the right to play, the right to frivolity, is not the least.
    — W. H. Auden, The Dyer’s Hand (via ayjay)—this reminds me of something John Berger says in Pig Earth, his fabular ethnography of rural life in the French Alps. The peasant, he says there, never expects the sum total of mystery in the universe to diminish (I paraphrase)… perhaps another way in which the horizons of peasant and poet fuse.
  3. 08:19 14th Feb 2014

    Notes: 2

    I didn’t notice it at first: the origami fairies stealing into the study each night and replacing my books with tiny, perfectly-folded surrogates. I caught them in a stewpot and made them reveal the secrets of their trade. But the next morning they were gone, the front door thrown open, all my books turned into paper toads tumbling in the wind across the yard.

  4. 08:14

    Notes: 6494

    Reblogged from theatlantic


    Cross-medium artist Shelley Jackson is mixing Instagram and interminable snowfall to tell a long, beautiful story, end to beginning. You can read (and remix) her work here

  5. 12:38 6th Feb 2014

    Notes: 1

    The good earth, the planet on which we are embarked and making our annual voyage in the unharboured Deep, carries in her bosom every good thing her children need on the way, for refreshment, fuel, science, or action. She has coal in the hold, and all meats in the larder, and overhung with showiest awning.

    The progress of art is to equalize all places. Reindeer, caoutchouc, glass windows, anthracite coal, Nott stoves, coffee, and books will give Greenland the air and ease of London. Ice, fruits, baths, refrigerators, linen, will fan the hot forehead of Cuba to the 56th degree.

    — Ralph Waldo Emerson, Journal, December 1, 1832 (when Emerson was 29 years of age). The young transcendentalist offers a striking prefiguration of the “Good Earth” invoked by astronaut Frank Borman in his Christmas Eve, 1968, broadcast from lunar orbit, as well as Hannah Arendt’s cold-war imprecation that “the earth is the very quintessence of the human condition.” And yet now we begin to suspect this view—recognizing that in Emerson’s remarkable litany of substances and things lies another constituency, with its own catalog of claims to make on the planet. Fuel, animals, building materials, refrigerants, are not mere stores for humankind to consume on our existential wanderings, but travelers on journeys of their own, whose indentured servitude to our narrow interests carries ineluctable costs.
  6. Video accompanying the Lost Bird Project’s Fold the Flock initiative, which proposes to produce flocks of origami passenger pigeons in memory of the extinct species that once darkened North American skies. As a visualization, the video is remarkably subtle and effective. You don’t realize what’s happening until it’s happened—which of course is precisely the point. —via Orion.

  7. 05:55 28th Jan 2014

    Notes: 2

  8. 17:13 27th Jan 2014

    Notes: 2

    Reblogged from poeticise


    Passer-by, these are words. But instead of reading
    I want you to listen: to this frail
    Voice like that of letters eaten by grass.

    Lend an ear, hear first of all the happy bee
    Foraging in our almost rubbed-out names.
    It flits between two sprays of leaves,
    Carrying the sound of branches that…

  9. 08:45

    Notes: 3

    [E]very work of science great enough to be well remembered for a few generations affords some exemplification of the defective state of the art of reasoning of the time when it was written; and each chief step in science has been a lesson in logic. It was so when Lavoisier and his contemporaries took up the study of Chemistry. The old chemist’s maxim had been, “Lege, lege, lege, labora, ora, et relege.” Lavoisier’s method was not to read and pray, but to dream that some long and complicated chemical process would have a certain effect, to put it into practice with dull patience, after its inevitable failure, to dream that with some modification it would have another result, and to end by publishing the last dream as a fact: his way was to carry his mind into his laboratory, and literally to make of his alembics and cucurbits instruments of thought, giving a new conception of reasoning as something which was to be done with one’s eyes open, in manipulating real things instead of words and fancies.
    — Charles Sanders Peirce, Collected Papers V:363 (paywalled).
  10. 08:37

    Notes: 2

    Philosophers of very diverse stripes propose that philosophy shall take its start from one or another state of mind in which no man, least of all a beginner in philosophy, actually is. One proposes that you shall begin by doubting everything, and says that there is only one thing that you cannot doubt, as if doubting were “as easy as lying.” Another proposes that we should begin by observing “the first impressions of sense,” forgetting that our very percepts are the results of cognitive elaboration. But in truth, there is but one state of mind from which you can “set out,” namely, the very state of mind in which you actually find yourself at the time you do “set out” — a state in which you are laden with an immense mass of cognition already formed, of which you cannot divest yourself if you would; and who knows whether, if you could, you would not have made all knowledge impossible to yourself? Do you call it doubting to write down on a piece of paper that you doubt? If so, doubt has nothing to do with any serious business. But do not make believe; if pedantry has not eaten all the reality out of you, recognize, as you must, that there is much that you do not doubt, in the least. Now that which you do not at all doubt, you must and do regard as infallible, absolute truth. Here breaks in Mr. Make Believe: “What! Do you mean to say that one is to believe what is not true, or that what a man does not doubt is ipso facto true?” No, but unless he can make a thing white and black at once, he has to regard what he does not doubt as absolutely true. Now you, per hypothesiu, are that man. “But you tell me there are scores of things I do not doubt. I really cannot persuade myself that there is not some one of them about which I am mistaken.” You are adducing one of your make-believe facts, which, even if it were established, would only go to show that doubt has a limen, that is, is only called into being by a certain finite stimulus. You only puzzle yourself by talking of this metaphysical “truth” and metaphysical “falsity,” that you know nothing about. All you have any dealings with are your doubts and beliefs, with the course of life that forces new beliefs upon you and gives you power to doubt old beliefs. If your terms “truth” and “falsity” are taken in such senses as to be definable in terms of doubt and belief and the course of experience (as for example they would be, if you were to define the “truth” as that to a belief in which belief would tend if it were to tend indefinitely toward absolute fixity), well and good: in that case, you are only talking about doubt and belief. But if by truth and falsity you mean something not definable in terms of doubt and belief in any way, then you are talking of entities of whose existence you can know nothing, and which Ockham’s razor would clean shave off. Your problems would be greatly simplified, if, instead of saying that you want to know the “Truth,” you were simply to say that you want to attain a state of belief unassailable by doubt.
    — Charles Sanders Peirce, Collected Papers V:416 (behind paywall).