You cannot give me a human behavior for which I can’t make up a story about why it’s adaptive.
— Jerry A. Coyne
You cannot give me a human behavior for which I can’t make up a story about why it’s adaptive.
— Jerry A. Coyne
I who know the smallness of my voice and the tiny stink of all our journalistic voices repeated wonder if any words of mine could matter much.
— Stark Young
The story was so intriguing
Told with such enthusiasm
I couldn’t believe
It was something only ordinary.
By John Keats
Small, busy flames play through the fresh-laid coals,
And their faint cracklings o’er our silence creep
Like whispers of the household gods that keep
A gentle empire o’er fraternal souls.
And while for rhymes I search around the poles,
Your eyes are fixed, as in poetic sleep,
Upon the lore so voluble and deep,
That aye at fall of night our care condoles.
This is your birthday, Tom, and I rejoice
That thus it passes smoothly, quietly:
Many such eves of gently whispering noise
May we together pass, and calmly try
What are this world’s true joys,—ere the great Voice
From its fair face shall bid our spirits fly.
(via papertissue)
Reblogged from papertissue
Shooting some street photography in Washington DC.
Nothing is harder
to say than
what am I today.
By William Strafford
Odd things, like a button drawer. Mean
Thing, fishhooks, barbs in your hand.
But marbles too. A genius for being agreeable.
Junkyard crucifixes, voluptuous
discards. Space for knickknacks, and for
Alaska. Evidence to hang me, or to beatify.
Clues that lead nowhere, that never connected
anyway. Deliberate obfuscation, the kind
that takes genius. Chasms in character.
Loud omissions. Mornings that yawn above
a new grave. Pages you know exist
but you can’t find them. Someone’s terribly
inevitable life story, maybe mine.
Why can’t the English teach their children how to speak?
This verbal class distinction by now should be antique.
If you spoke as she does, sir, Instead of the way you do,
Why, you might be selling flowers, too.
An Englishman’s way of speaking absolutely classifies him,
The moment he talks he makes some other
Englishman despise him.
One common language I’m afraid we’ll never get.
Oh, why can’t the English learn to set
A good example to people whose English is painful to your ears?
The Scotch and the Irish leave you close to tears.
There even are places where English completely disappears.
In America, they haven’t used it for years!
Nothing’s cooler than a tree house, especially one approximately 1,100 square feet with a deck, large dining room, and kitchen. This one from the royal castle of Ackergill Tower in the Scottish Highlands. (retrived from nytimes.com: http://www.nytimes.com/slideshow/2009/08/25/greathomesanddestinations/0830-scotland_index.html)
Crossword Puzzle: —It might turn into a different story.
Me: ????
Answer: —SPIRALSTAIRCASE
Me: Ohhhhhhhh.
Me, again: Happy Birthday Will Shortz!
The devil they know might be regarded as better than the devil they don’t.
— Above quote comes from an article by Chris Sands, a foreign correspondant writing for The National—a newspaper from the UAE, about the recent election in Afghanistan and the politics of that country. Widespread fraud and corruption is being discussed throughout the journalistic community, but overall you’ll see an optimistic viewpoint from the US, Britian, EU, and UN governments because there being little violent activity throughout the day (well, based on the low death/casualty numbers not the heightened violence in some cities and areas). Many Afghanies see the election not as a democratic success but merely Hamid Karzai’s corrupt political stronghold on the country. Overall turnout was recorded low throughout the provinces—noticeably in the southern and eastern provinces especially with women voters. No matter who wins the elections Afghanistan and its peoples will struggle with the violence and corruption without any noticeable change. More of the same problems will continue, which is why many decided not to vote at all. Yet I eagerly await for the results.