MANHATTAN

Six months! Are you kidding? Six months you're gonna go for?
We've gone this long. I mean, what's six months if we still love each other?
Hey, don't be so mature, OK?
I mean, six months is a long time. Six months!
You're gonna be in the theatre... working in the theatre with actors and directors.
You know, you go to rehearsal and you hang out with those people.
You have lunch a lot and before you know it attachments form and... you know...
I mean, you don't wanna get into that...
You'll change.
In six months you'll be a completely different person.
Well, don't you want me to have that experience? I mean,
a while ago you made such a convincing case.
Yeah, of course I do, but, you know...
I mean, I just don't want that thing about you that I like to change.
I've gotta make a plane.
Come on, you don't... Come on.
You don't... You don't have to go.
Why couldn't you have brought this up last week?
Six months isn't so long.
Not everybody gets corrupted.
You have to have a little faith in people.

ANITA LOOS

Pleasure that isn't paid for is as insipid as anything else that's free.

NEW FEELING

Everything that makes me happy also makes me a little bit sad. I like that wistful feeling.

THING EXTINCTION

18 OCTOBER 2009: A relentless focus on the ephemeral is a useful way of garnering an appreciation of the everyday, the prosaic and the humble. Yet while one gets a strong sense of the 'drift' through clicking from one site to another (or even undertaken virtual derives, such as the one Michael Wolf did using Google Street View in Paris) the levels of editing, unconscious or otherwise, shape our apparently random vision of the virtual world. We're just as guilty of this as everyone else - the web of 'things' that so often occupies these posts, fills the sidebar or our project list is not simply a record of everything but a very careful edit of something.

By the same token, a recognisable genre of weblogs has emerged (see this question: Is there a name or term for the aesthetic these blogs contain?), the seemingly random streams of 'good work', quirky images, striking photography, cool objects, strange concepts, old scans, etc. etc. etc. We can drift though these - and we do - yet we shouldn't kid ourselves that we are flaneuring our way to anything but a highly selected cultural overview. This genre of presentation is both persuasive and pervasive, the digital equivalent of Wired's 'Fetish' pages (which have obviously a far more natural existence on screen than on paper). Take the AJ's new Notebook site, wherein 'inspiration' is 'curated', an explicit acknowledgement of the dominance of image-driven culture.

These visual essays, together with animated stings and very short films, have become the primary modes of communication; objects are strung together rather than taken in isolation. There is no space for contemplation, just clicking, scrolling and flicking. This leaves the solitary object somewhat adrift, only embodying meaning when it is juxtaposed or collated or slotted into a larger collection. Although a glance at any tumblr or curated weblog might suggest otherwise, the 'thing' is in danger of imminent extinction.

Via http://www.thingsmagazine.net/

RICHARD PRINCE

I never had a penny to my name, so I changed my name.

JEEBIES (BOTANICAL)

http://images.google.com/images?q=lithops