Imagine a man who, for some inconsequential reason, has spent his entire life on a sofa. He watches TV. All he knows comes from that one source. He knows about science and history and love and news and sport. But he has never caught a speeding ball beneath a summer sun and ran because his friends depended on it. He knows the rules but not the game.
One day, someone hears about the man and, aghast, decides to rescue him. She bursts into his room and says “Thank goodness I’ve reached you! You’ve got so much to learn, so much depth and engagement! The wind on your face and the touch of your fellow human and peripheral vision and the third dimension and OH! you’ve missed so much! You’re in for such a glorious suprise! You’re going to love it!”
He turns his creaking neck towards the first non-recorded voice he has heard; sees his first real face, dimmly illuminated by the light of the set.
“It is a commonplace that the history of civilisation is largely the history of weapons. In particular, the connection between the discovery of gunpowder and the overthrow of feudalism by the bourgeoisie has been pointed out over and over again. And though I have no doubt exceptions can be brought forward, I think the following rule would be found generally true: that ages in which the dominant weapon is expensive or difficult to make will tend to be ages of despotism, whereas when the dominant weapon is cheap and simple, the common people have a chance. Thus, for example, tanks, battleships and bombing planes are inherently tyrannical weapons, while rifles, muskets, long-bows and hand-grenades are inherently democratic weapons. A complex weapon makes the strong stronger, while a simple weapon — so long as there is no answer to it — gives claws to the weak.”—George Orwell (via Daily Meh)
“You could get lost in a Walmart. You could lose yourself in a Walmart. Or, you could find yourself in a Walmart. On some shelf loaded with lotion. A body cream that smells like cupcakes. You smell it. It smells right. You buy it. You take it home. You smell yourself. You smell like cupcakes. You smell like Walmart. You reek of the obese American dream.”—Susannah Breslin
“Some fans call lo-bit music “ghostwave”, because, as Hall Of Mirrors act Cursor Daly puts it, “you start listening to stuff that isn’t there, phantom sound— your ears are filling in the gaps. Below 128 kbps you’re essentially hallucinating sound, no two people hear the same thing.”—Tom Ewing