“The man who finds his homeland sweet is still a tender beginner; he to whom every soil is as his native one is already strong; but he is perfect to whom the entire world is as a foreign land.” - 12th century monk Hugh of Saint Victor, as quoted by Edward Said in 'Culture and Imperialism'
Untitled #158 is the new architectural sculpture by Aeneas Wilder, where passers-by can observe the surrounding landscape and undergo a contemplative experience. The round construction offers a 360º view and is aligned with uniform vertical wooden slats. The installation is part of pit, the project of Z33 - house for contemporary art that brings artworks in public spaces of Limburg district (Belgium).
Photos by Kristof Vrancken - All rights reserved.
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From the New York Times:
The exile, Jampa Yeshi, who is believed to be 26 years old, set himself on fire at Jantar Mantar, the site of frequent protests, at 12:25 p.m., shortly after a Tibetan rally made its way back from Ramlila Maidan, another popular ground for political demonstrations in New Delhi. The protesters were agitating against the India visit of Hu Jintao, the Chinese president, for the BRICS Summit, an economic meeting of Brazil, Russia, India, China and South Africa, later this week.
Via Patrick Laforge
There’s something horribly, terribly wrong with this photograph here. Will we let this pass through too?
“ The most annoying thing about being a black man is constantly having to explain what reason you have for being wherever the fuck you are at a given moment. George Zimmerman tracked Trayvon down because he was unfamiliar. As self-appointment overlord of the neighborhood, he needed to know who this odd black person was. In fact, based on the 911 calls, he needed to know who every unfamiliar black man was. When you’re black and male, you’ve always got a purpose. No one wants you just hanging around. It’s called “loitering,” in case you weren’t aware. No matter what, it would behoove a black man to have a helluva explanation for why he is doing whatever he’s doing. Because, if you wait long enough, someone is going to ask. If you don’t answer quickly enough, the cops will probably be called. And, if you don’t answer quickly enough, you might wish someone had called the cops, cuz they may have been your only hope for walking away unscathed.
Where’s your ID? Why are you here? Who’d you come to see? Hurry up and get where you’re going. We always have to prove we belong or, in other instances, that we deserve to be where we are.
Where’s your ID? Why are you here? Who’d you come to see? Hurry up and get where you’re going. We always have to prove we belong or, in other instances, that we deserve to be where we are.
![theatlantic:
A Slow Books Manifesto: Read books. As often as you can. Mostly classics.
Why so much emphasis on what goes into our mouths, and so little on what goes into our minds? What about having fun while exerting greater control over what goes into your brain? Why hasn’t a hip alliance emerged that’s concerned about what happens to our intellectual health, our country, and, yes, our happiness when we consume empty-calorie entertainment? The Slow Food manifesto lauds “quieter pleasures” as a means of opposing “the universal folly of Fast Life”—yet there’s little that seems more foolish, loudly unpleasant, and universal than the screens that blare in every corner of America (at the airport, at the gym, in the elevator, in our hands). “Fast” entertainment, consumed mindlessly as we slump on the couch or do our morning commute, pickles our brains—and our souls.
That’s why I’m calling for a Slow Books Movement (one that’s a little more developed than this perfectly admirable attempt).
In our leisure moments, whenever we have down time, we should turn to literature—to works that took some time to write and will take some time to read, but will also stay with us longer than anything else. They’ll help us unwind better than any electronic device—and they’ll pleasurably sharpen our minds and identities, too.
To borrow a cadence from Michael Pollan: Read books. As often as you can. Mostly classics.
Aim for 30 minutes a day. You can squeeze in that half hour pretty easily if only, during your free moments—whenever you find yourself automatically switching on that boob tube, or firing up your laptop to check your favorite site, or scanning Twitter for something to pass the time—you pick up a meaningful work of literature. […]
If you’re not reading slowly, you’re doing yourself—and your community—a great wrong. As poet Joseph Brodsky said in his 1987 Nobel Prize acceptance speech, “Though we can condemn … the persecution of writers, acts of censorship, the burning of books, we are powerless when it comes to [the worst crime against literature]: that of not reading the books. For that … a person pays with his whole life; … a nation … pays with its history.”
Read more. [Image: Reuters]
One of the reasons why I can’t quite explain to anyone why It’s taken over three months for me to read George Elliot’s Middle March and subsequently come to loathe GoodRead’s read-50-books-this-year challenge. I find that I’ve grown in the process of reading this book over the past few month, and growing.. well it takes some time. Review to come.](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m1hyj77Ph51qcokc4o1_500.jpg)
A Slow Books Manifesto: Read books. As often as you can. Mostly classics.
Why so much emphasis on what goes into our mouths, and so little on what goes into our minds? What about having fun while exerting greater control over what goes into your brain? Why hasn’t a hip alliance emerged that’s concerned about what happens to our intellectual health, our country, and, yes, our happiness when we consume empty-calorie entertainment? The Slow Food manifesto lauds “quieter pleasures” as a means of opposing “the universal folly of Fast Life”—yet there’s little that seems more foolish, loudly unpleasant, and universal than the screens that blare in every corner of America (at the airport, at the gym, in the elevator, in our hands). “Fast” entertainment, consumed mindlessly as we slump on the couch or do our morning commute, pickles our brains—and our souls.
That’s why I’m calling for a Slow Books Movement (one that’s a little more developed than this perfectly admirable attempt).
In our leisure moments, whenever we have down time, we should turn to literature—to works that took some time to write and will take some time to read, but will also stay with us longer than anything else. They’ll help us unwind better than any electronic device—and they’ll pleasurably sharpen our minds and identities, too.
To borrow a cadence from Michael Pollan: Read books. As often as you can. Mostly classics.
Aim for 30 minutes a day. You can squeeze in that half hour pretty easily if only, during your free moments—whenever you find yourself automatically switching on that boob tube, or firing up your laptop to check your favorite site, or scanning Twitter for something to pass the time—you pick up a meaningful work of literature. […]
If you’re not reading slowly, you’re doing yourself—and your community—a great wrong. As poet Joseph Brodsky said in his 1987 Nobel Prize acceptance speech, “Though we can condemn … the persecution of writers, acts of censorship, the burning of books, we are powerless when it comes to [the worst crime against literature]: that of not reading the books. For that … a person pays with his whole life; … a nation … pays with its history.”
Read more. [Image: Reuters]
One of the reasons why I can’t quite explain to anyone why It’s taken over three months for me to read George Elliot’s Middle March and subsequently come to loathe GoodRead’s read-50-books-this-year challenge. I find that I’ve grown in the process of reading this book over the past few month, and growing.. well it takes some time. Review to come.
Tens of thousands of Quebec students descended on downtown Montreal Thursday for the latest — and so far the largest — in a series of protests against planned tuition fee increases. The total number of participants could not be determined, but one student representative claimed that 200,000…
