Hard thinks

photo from The British Library's Flickr account
Unless you stick to an iOS version from 2016, you won't be able to download the Blogger app for iOS. It's outdated, and Google has given up on it. Probably their team of developers had to be reshuffled and sent to new departments. Maybe it's just a waste of time updating an app for bloggers - maybe because - according to their analytics - mobile phones aren't the best medium for blogging. (So. I feel old. I'm 27.) This has given me a hard 'think' (as my boss puts it) about migrating to a new blogging platform, although I don't think it would make a difference? I'm sure the gods at Google would shut this down - but again, I'll need an entire week to figure out a Plan B.

That's all. I will end this blog post with a nihilist quote - this says a lot about the fact that our very democracy have given us a lot of freedom - including the freedom to eliminate life on earth.
...The world’s population must globally move to zero emissions across agriculture, air travel, shipping, heating homes – every aspect of our economy – and reduce our human population too. Can it be done without a collapse of civilisation? “I don’t think so,” says Hillman. “Can you see everyone in a democracy volunteering to give up flying? Can you see the majority of the population becoming vegan? Can you see the majority agreeing to restrict the size of their families?” 
The entire article, an interview with social scientist Mayer Hillman, also speaks about the futility of individual and national action on combating climate change. We've gone past the point of no return, it said, and I think it's true. I can only wish for my son's future.

The terrors

Beware the terror of not producing. Beware the urge to justify your decision. Watch out for the kitchen sink and the plumbing and the painting that always needed being done. But remember the body needs to create too. Beware feeling you're not good enough to deserve it. Beware feeling you're too good to need it. Beware all the hatred you've stored up inside you, and the locks on your tender places.
- Andre Lorde to Pat Parker, from Sister Love - The Letters of Andre Lorde and Pat Parker (1974-1989), by way of 192 Books' Instagram account.

Embodiments


I've listened to Justice back in college - and found this track, Stress, the embodiment of stress itself. I imagine it as the soundtrack of a cardiac arrest: it just builds up over and over again. 

It could also be a background music for a video of an anaconda slowly wrapping itself around its victim, say, it consumes a capybara.

The video, which I've just seen now - eight years after my first listen - is a beautiful accompaniment. 

Queens



Aside from being read by a couple of friends at my funeral, I'm not sure what this still is all about.

A great day for mimosas


Bois 1920's Oltremare smells like dried flowers and tea leaves that's been steeped for a long time. It would taste too sour, like a concentrate. The fragrance crams you in a van with seven other kids en route to a swanky resort for a summer outing. It's the one with white hammocks and villas with wood sidings. Perhaps an occasional wireless speaker, but otherwise a very quiet place. There's a pitcher of orange juice in there, lemons, lots of citrus, ice cubes bobbing, clinking as it's stirred by harried moms wearing plain blouses and floral dresses. Some dads set-up the charcoal grill from a distance. Or the tent. Some kids apply mosquito repellent to ward off pesky insects. Sometimes its smell reminds you of this car freshener from the '90s: the yellow pine tree made of felt that I've seen in most cars, stuck on the windshield, only less potent, more fleeting and appealing. But it's not just car freshener: it's the humidity, that warmth from faux-leather seats sat on for hours in long trips, really long trips that make butts numb.

Contexts



Sometimes a song draws a curtain the first time you hear it - is that the right term: obfuscate? Only when you fry sausage and eggs and rice for breakfast and the great morning had you singing that song for no reason - that same song you've known for years - will you realize something about it. You'll be surprised at the lyrics. You'll be surprised about what it means. Something about mortality, about about breakfasts with the five-year old, about greeting mornings, good or bad, with a hug. Today, the song wants to figure out what life means. Tomorrow, it could be different.