everythingness

everythingness

182 bookmarks
Custom sorting
Portrait of a Lady on Fire | The New Yorker
Portrait of a Lady on Fire | The New Yorker
The best movies are about women and the best movies about love are made by women. This is an achingly beautiful and poignant movie about women loving women.
Portrait of a Lady on Fire
The best movies are about women and the best movies about love are made by women and with Portrait of a Lady on Fire, Director Céline Sciamma and the amazing players (Noémie Merlant, Adèle Haenel and Luàna Bajrami) have made an achingly beautiful and poignant movie about women loving women. On Netflix.
·newyorker.com·
Portrait of a Lady on Fire | The New Yorker
Leven in Limbo
Leven in Limbo
TV Serie van HUMAN over vluchtelingen in Nederland met geen identiteitspapieren. Ze kunnen dus niet bewijzen wie ze zijn en waar ze vandaan komen wat asiel aanvragen bijnder moeilijk maakt.
·human.nl·
Leven in Limbo
Nick Drake's Pink Moon
Nick Drake's Pink Moon
Pete Paphides digs through John Peel's records and speculates wildly about what Nick Drake may or may not have listened to. Interesting and annoying in equal measure. A few records you may not have heard of.
·johnpeelarchive.com·
Nick Drake's Pink Moon
The story of my madness | Emmanuel Carrère
The story of my madness | Emmanuel Carrère
Late in life a major depressive episode got Emmanuel Carrère hospitalised and diagnosed as bipolar. In some ways it made sense of his problems, but in the midst of it, everything was broken
You’re bipolar type 2: agitated without necessarily being euphoric, but sometimes also seductive, flirtatious, very sexual, outwardly very much alive, but inclined to make the type of decisions you regret the most, while being dead sure that they’re right and that you’ll never go back on them. Then after that you’re dead sure of the very opposite, you realise that you’ve done the worst thing possible, you try to fix it and do something even worse. You think one thing and then its opposite, you do one thing and then its opposite, in frightening succession. But the worst is that if you’re like me and are used to analysing yourself, once the diagnosis has been reached and the mood swings identified, you gain hindsight – only this hindsight is of little use. Or if it is, it’s just to see that no matter what you think, say or do, you can’t trust yourself because there are two of you in the same person, and those two are enemies.
in the definition of bipolar disorder, the pole opposite the dive into depression isn’t necessarily a state of spectacular euphoria and disinhibition that leads to social suicide and often to suicide itself, but just as frequently what psychiatrists call hypomania, which means in plain language that you act like a fool, but not to the same extent.
·theguardian.com·
The story of my madness | Emmanuel Carrère
Final Days
Final Days
Joyce Carol Oates - Diary, 2019: Berkeley/Summit Hospital, Oakland (The Paris Review)
“I may be entering my Final Days.” Gravely, matter-of-factly he begins to speak in this way. He begins to speak of “my final days.” Final Days. The words strike terror into my heart. In a way I cannot believe that I am hearing such words. Matter-of-fact words. No. Yet there is something dignified, noble about such words. “I may be entering my Final Days.”
·theparisreview.org·
Final Days
Living the #ConventLife
Living the #ConventLife
Sisters are joining TikTok to offer a window into their cloistered experiences. “We’re not all grim old ladies reading the Bible,” one nun said.
·nytimes.com·
Living the #ConventLife
The Faraway Nearby by Rebecca Solnit – review
The Faraway Nearby by Rebecca Solnit – review
The usual 'I' we are given has all the tidy containment of the kind of character the realist novel specialises in and none of the porousness of our every waking moment, the loose threads, the strange dreams, the forgetting and misrememberings, the portions of life lived through others' stories, the incoherence and inconsistency, the pantheon of dei ex machina and the companionability of ghosts. There are other ways of telling.
"the usual 'I' we are given has all the tidy containment of the kind of character the realist novel specialises in and none of the porousness of our every waking moment, the loose threads, the strange dreams, the forgetting and misrememberings, the portions of life lived through others' stories, the incoherence and inconsistency, the pantheon of dei ex machina and the companionability of ghosts. There are other ways of telling." The Faraway Nearby
·theguardian.com·
The Faraway Nearby by Rebecca Solnit – review
Een samenleving zonder angst is een samenleving vol psychopaten
Een samenleving zonder angst is een samenleving vol psychopaten
Angstexpert Bram Vervliet: “We geven onze proefpersonen, allemaal vrijwilligers, bijvoorbeeld een onaangename elektrische prikkel nadat ze op een computerscherm een driehoekje hebben gezien. Gaandeweg leren ze dat ze zich bij het zien van dat driehoekje schrap mogen zetten.
Angst bestaat uit drie fasen. Denk aan een antilope en een roofdier dat het op haar gemunt heeft. Op open plekken is de antilope behoedzaam, ook al is er niet meteen een roofdier te zien. Ze zet haar aandacht heel breed en speurt de omgeving af. Er bekruipt haar een onbehagelijk gevoel. Dat noemen we angst. Als het roofdier plots opduikt, dan gaat dat over in vrees. Dan is de antilope daar volledig op gefocust. Ze kan aan niets anders meer denken dan aan het acute gevaar. Valt het roofdier aan, dan komen we bij paniek. Dan is het alle hens aan dek. Een antilope zal met haar bekende bokkensprongen wegduiken in de hoop het roofdier te slim af te zijn.
·everythingness.github.io·
Een samenleving zonder angst is een samenleving vol psychopaten
The Radical Life of Kathy Boudin | The New Yorker
The Radical Life of Kathy Boudin | The New Yorker
She spoke of her involvement with the B.L.A. as an act of self-erasure in service of a better world. “The less I would know and the more I would give up total self, the better—the more committed and the more moral I was,” she said.
·archive.ph·
The Radical Life of Kathy Boudin | The New Yorker