Presently reading: The Affairs of Others by Amy Grace Loyd, Leaving the Atocha Station by Ben Lerner
Sigur Ros, Radiohead, Smashing Pumpkins, mewithoutYou, Bright Eyes, Parenthetical Girls, the Dead Science, Fuck Buttons, the Wrens, Joanna Newsom, the Irrepressibles, the Hotelier
The Grand Budapest Hotel, The Cruise
Comedy: Dylan Moran, Reggie Watts, Russell Brand, Louis CK, Jenny Slate, Maria Bamford, Richard Ayoade, David Mitchell, Stephen Fry, John Mulaney, Romesh Ranganathan, The Thick of It, Arrested Development, Party Down, any British panel show, this: http://www.clickhole.com/quiz/which-one-my-garbage-sons-are-you-1458
Oh sorbets, sweetmeats, avocados... what does it matter?
You're kind of a foodie, you say? That's fascinating, fuck off and die.
(when I'm being bad or not being much of anything at all) centrifuged bits of media I've consumed, tasks, irritations, arithmetical patterns, self-glorifying fantasies (oops), what is wrong with me, what is wrong with me.
I rarely notice the bass part of the music I listen to. Times I fear that there is a stratum of collective awareness that falls outside my range of attention, that there is a basso continuo that I am deaf to. That there might be a bass tone keeping the world of men in rhythm with one another, and perhaps the pervasive sense of alienation from and misunderstanding with others derives from this, that I just never heard the bass tone.