and it felt like a winter machine you go through, and then
you catch your breath and winter starts again
and everyone else is spring-bound
"Radio may survive, it may not survive. For so many years, people have been saying it’s going to be dead. It’s still here. If radio dies, who cares? If it’s all podcasting, who cares? There will a place for us to make stuff. Things are going to be fine."
"The more we persist in misunderstanding the phenomena of life…the more we involve ourselves in sadness, absurdity, and despair. But it does not matter much, because no despair of ours can alter the reality of things, or stain the joy of the cosmic dance which is always there. Indeed, we are in the midst of it, and it is in the midst of us, for it beats in our very blood, whether we want it to or not. Yet the fact remains that we are invited to forget ourselves on purpose, cast our awful solemnity to the winds, and join in the general dance."
"One of the things I dislike most about human social orders is the concept of the “meeting,” in which a bunch of people sit together for a long period of time discussing a project to death and then form a task force to discuss it further so that the task force can produce a report which will then be considered at another series of meetings by a different group of people.
God, I hate meetings with such ferocity. I can’t even tell you. When I am forced to sit in a meeting, I usually rock back and forth in my chair for a while before eventually saying to the people I work with, “I’m sorry but if this meeting goes on any longer I am going to actually and literally die.”
Anyway, politics involves a lot of meetings. So no."
"Mainly I try to remind them that the road ahead is a long one and that it will have more unexpected turns than they think. There will be plenty of time to change jobs, change careers, change whole attitudes and approaches. They don’t want to hear such liberating news. They want a map — right now — that they can follow unswervingly to career security, financial security, social security and, presumably, a prepaid grave. What I wish for all students is some release from the clammy grip of the future. I wish them a chance to savor each segment of their education as an experience in itself and not as a grim preparation for the next step. I wish them the right to experiment, to trip and fall, to learn that defeat is as instructive as victory and is not the end of the world. My wish, of course, is naive. One of the few rights that America does not proclaim is the right to fail. Achievement is the national god, venerated in our media — the million dollar athlete, the wealthy executive — and the glorified in our praise of possessions. In the presence of such a potent state religion, the young are growing up old."
Puss In Boots was bummed that his bold fashion choices couldn’t be featured on Humans of New York, so he started his own spin-off Tumblr.
"I hope when people ask what you’re going to do with your English and/or creative writing degree you’ll say: Continue my bookish examination of the contradictions and complexities of human motivation and desire; or maybe just: Carry it with me, as I do everything that matters."