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Kill the Farm Boy
“Paugh!" the troll scoffed. "Romance. Kissing and folly. Where's the story, where's the philosophy? I'm a troll, and even I can't rip a bodice. You should read real literature. The classics." He held up a book called Ye Olde Clubbe of Fisticuffs. "This is one of my favorites. It's all about, like, rejecting capitalism." He held up another, the spine as yet uncracked, called Alliance of Nincompoops. "Or this one, about a misunderstood genius. You should read it. I'd love to chat about what the true meaning of success is when we're living in a world that values looks instead of substance.”
Romance
Humor
Books
Literature
Fight Club
Confederacy Of Dunces
The Braindead Megaphone
“Am I oversimplifying here? Yes. Is all our media stupid? Far from it. Were intelligent, valuable things written about the rush to war (and about O.J. and Monica, and then Laci Peterson and Michael Jackson, et al.)? Of course.
But: Is some of our media very stupid? Hoo boy. Does stupid, near-omnipresent media make us more tolerant toward stupidity in general? It would be surprising if it didn’t.
Is human nature such that, under certain conditions, stupidity can come to dominate, infecting the brighter quadrants, dragging everybody down with it?”
Writers
News
Media
Stupidity
Information
Information Overload
Dumbing Down
Reading the Gospels Wisely: A Narrative and Theological Introduction
“There is a reason why the fourfold Gospel witness has always stood at the head of the New Testament canon and why the Gospels have always been so beloved. It is because in them we encounter the risen Christ in person. We learn not just about him and what he theologically accomplished for us and what we are supposed to do as a result, but we get to see the sweet Lion and the roaring Lamb in action—loving people, showing compassion, teaching and discipling, rebuking and correcting, suffering and ultimately dying for us. We encounter him in a way unique to the Gospels.”
Theology
Gospels
Biblical Study
The Arrangement: A Novel
“In the deep sauté, she has made a stew: eggplant and tomatoes, onions and summer squash, a sort of ratatouille,
tiella, samfina, pisto
, there are as many names for it as countries, and she has stopped caring for all the names of things. She has made stew, and there are ripe peaches and cream for dessert, a few bottles of wine to choose from.”
French Cooking
Mfk Fisher
The Arrangement
“Without Al, Mary Frances discovered what she did alone. She liked to cook for herself, to assemble a meal of things he would never consider worth a mealtime- shad roe and toast, soft-set eggs, hearts of celery and palm with a quick yellow mayonnaise, a glass of wine, an open book in her lap, and the radio on. The elements that mattered most were the simple ones: butter, salt, a thick plate of white china and a delicate glass, the music faint, the feel of paper in her hand, and the knowledge that there was more, always more book to read, more wine if she liked it, some cold fruit in the refrigerator when she was hungry again, and the hours upon hours to satisfy herself.”
Cooking
Alone Time
Mfk Fisher
The Arrangement
“Lucullus placed a live fish in a glass jar in front of every diner at his table. The better the death, the better the meal would taste.
Catherine de Medici brought her cooks to France when she married, and those cooks brought sherbet and custard and cream puffs, artichokes and onion soup, and the idea of roasting birds with oranges. As well as cooks, she brought embroidery and handkerchiefs, perfumes and lingerie, silverware and glassware and the idea that gathering around a table was something to be done thoughtfully. In essence, she brought being French to France.
Everything started somewhere else. She thought of Tim's note:
write to me
. He didn't want to hear about Lucullus and Catherine de Medici; but she loved her old tomes and the things unearthed there, the ballast they lent, the safety of information. She spread her notebooks open across the table. There was a recipe for roasted locusts from ancient Egypt, and on the facing page, her own memory of the first thing she ever cooked, the curry sauce and Anne's chocolate.”
Ancient History
Famous Chefs
Old Recipes
Mfk Fisher
Catherine De Medicis
The Arrangement
“From a long board, he watched her rake a pile into the stockpot: tomatoes and garlic, orange peel and bay, the heads and spines and tails of a dozen sardines. She plunged a knife into a spider crab and split it in two, tossing it after. She hadn't noticed Al standing behind her.
He cleared his throat, and she swung around.
"Oh, goodness," she said.
"You've been busy."
She held to his face a mortar of green pounded herbs and garlic, a rouille so sharp it made his eyes water. And then a hard loaf of bread, white fish steaks translucent as china; she put a salted almond in his mouth, a crust dipped into the stockpot, her finger. She was giddy, beautiful, his wife.
She poured the stock through a strainer, pressing on the bones and shells with the back of a wooden spoon. She poached the fish steaks, some tiny rings and tangles of squid, picking out the mussels as they opened; she toasted bread; she warmed a Delft tureen with boiling water. She set the table, handing a cold bottle of white wine from the refrigerator and a corkscrew to him.
"There's so much in this kitchen," she whispered.
"Is Gigi here?"
"No, not ever, I don't think. But she's got every kind of gadget. Look at this. Do you know what this is?" She held up a Bakelite-handled comb with a dozen tines.
Al waited.
"It's for slicing cake," she said.”
Cooking
Seafood
Utensil
Mfk Fisher
The Arrangement
“She browned onions and garlic, and from the pot on the windowsill, chopped a few winter-sad leaves of tarragon. The smell was green and strong, and she thought of spring.
Spring in Dijon, when she and Al would hike into the mountains with the Club Alpin, the old women forever chiding her tentative steps, her newborn French:
la petite violette, violette américaine
. She would turn back to Al, annoyed, and he would laugh. Hardly his delicate flower. When they stopped for lunch, it was Mary Frances with the soufflé of calves' brains, whatever was made liver or marrow, ordering enough strong wine that everyone was laughing. The way home, the women let her be.
If she wanted calves' brains now, she wouldn't even know where to begin to look or how to pay. She and Al seemed to be living on vegetables and books, tobacco, quiet. She blanched a bunch of spinach and chopped it. She beat eggs with the tarragon, heated the skillet once again. There was a salad of avocados and oranges. There was a cold bottle of ale and bread. Enough, for tonight.”
Reminiscing
Spring
French Food
Offal
French Cooking
Mfk Fisher
American Wilderness: A New History
“Nowhere is our national schizophrenia more in evidence than in the ongoing debates over drilling for oil in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. Many Americans want to preserve the wilderness characteristics of this landscape, but they also drive the very cars--GMC Yukons and Toyota Tundras being the most ironically named--that make new sources of Arctic oil appear to be necessary.”
Wilderness
Suvs
Arctic National Wildlife Refuge
The Rich Boy
“It was a time of youth and war, and there was never so much love around.”
Love
Time
War
Nostalgia
Memory
Classics
Rich
Ww1
The Lost Generation
Innocent in Death
“Roarke called here about a half an hour before you showed up.”
“He did?”
“Real casual like. Asked about the baby, like that. I may not have seen it if I hadn’t been looking, because he’s just that good. But you’re not the only one bleeding tonight.”
Eve And Roarke
Dramatic Line
Eve And Mavis
The Limits to Capital
“The essence of the neo-classical argument is that competition for productive factors — land, labour and capital — forces entrepreneurs to pay an amount equal to the value that the marginal (last employed) unit of each factor creates. Given a particular technological state and relative factor supplies (scarcities), then competition ensures that each factor 'gets what it creates', that 'exploitation of a factor cannot occur.' It is then a short step to infer that the distributive shares of rent, wages, interest, etc., are socially just fair shares. The political implication is that there is no point in, or call for, class struggle, and that government intervention should be confined largely to ensuring that perfect competition prevails. In the lexicons of many Marxist writers, this qualifies as 'vulgar political economy' with a vengeance.”
Competition
Economics
Class Struggle
Class War
“The British definitely like their tea. It’s their solution to everything, all problems and concerns. If there’s ever a major crisis, a cup of tea will help.”
Tea
British
England
English
Britain
Solution To Problems
Cup Of Tea
Tea Humor
Great Reflections on Success
“Don't underestimate the power of one dollar for somewhere in its generation is million, billion and trillion”
Inspirational Quotes
Motivational Quotes
Million
Underestimate
Currency
Dollar
Power Of Money
Billion
Trillion
Great Reflections on Success
“Don't underestimate the power of one dollar
for somewhere in its generation is million,
billion and trillion”
Inspirational Quotes
Motivational Quotes
Million
Underestimate
Currency
Dollar
Power Of Money
Billion
Trillion
“Nicknamed Wind because no one ever saw him coming, this huge, unsightly dog terrorized everyone. If it weren’t for the twenty-foot chain that kept him anchored to a metal post, there wouldn’t be any children left.”
Humor
Children
Animals
Dogs
Orphanage
Orphans
Adventure Fiction
Guard Dog
I Hate the Internet
“THE CURIOUS THING was that Facebook and Twitter and Tumblr and Blogspot, a media platform owned by Google, were the stomping grounds of self-styled intellectual and social radicals. It was where they were talking. It was where, they believed, the conversation was shifting.
They were typing morality lectures into devices built by slaves on platforms of expression owned by the Patriarchy, and they were making money for the Patriarchy. Somehow this was destroying the Patriarchy.
So there is always hope.”
Humour
Satire
Patriarchy
Modern Day Slavery
Not If I Save You First
“But there are things you tell yourself. And there are things you know. And Maddie knew that the one person she could depend on was herself. But that's okay, she thought. I'm usually enough.”
Self Confidence
Ally Carter
Mgg
Self Dependence
Not If I Save You Firs
“Honesty begins with a decision to come out of where God cannot be found”
Decision Making
Honesty Quotes
Benjamin Suulola
How to Be Alone
“On the other hand, some of the family’s impatience with the public is justified. When I use Federal Express, I accept as a condition of business that its standardized forms must be filled out in printed letters. An e-mail address off by a single character goes nowhere. Transposing two digits in a phone number gets me somebody speaking heatedly in Portuguese. Electronic media tell you instantly when you’ve made an error; with the post office, you have to wait. Haven’t we all at some point tested its humanity? I send mail to friends in Upper Molar, New York (they live in Upper Nyack), and expect a stranger to laugh and deliver it in forty-eight hours. More often than not, the stranger does. With its mission of universal service, the Postal Service is like an urban emergency room contractually obligated to accept every sore throat, pregnancy, and demented parent that comes its way. You may have to wait for hours in a dimly lit corridor. The staff may be short-tempered and dilatory. But eventually you will get treated. In the Central Post Office’s Nixie unit—where mail arrives that has been illegibly or incorrectly addressed—I see street numbers in the seventy thousands; impossible pairings of zip codes and streets; addresses without a name, without a street, without a city; addresses that consist of the description of a building; addresses written in water-based ink that rain has blurred. Skilled Nixie clerks study the orphans one at a time. Either they find a home for them or they apply that most expressive of postal markings, the vermilion finger of accusation that lays the blame squarely on you, the sender.”
Post Office
Emergency Room
Senses
“Publishing a book,
Watching its ways
Force me to look
At a screen for days
"Be still, be still",
My heart screams for life
But I must check its sales,
It's reviews, its likes.
Another Instagram poet
Who's dying
And doesn't know it,
Untying an underlying
Knot of desire
To be liked and admired
For people to love what transpires
From my mind, but I'm tired
Of the social machine
Producing my insecurity
Hoping someone will follow me
And like all my poetry
From this point forth, find me nowhere,
Socially unseen,
Just on the back porch, without a care
And without a screen”
Poetry
Conversation
Instagram
Addiction
Social Media
Screens
Facebook Addiction
Finding Myself
Front Porches
Socially Unseen
A Better Man
“I see." Gamache lowered his voice, though all could still hear the words. "When I was Chief Superintendent, I had a framed poster in my office. On it were the last words of a favorite poet, Seamus Heaney. Noli timere. It's Latin. Do you know what it means?"
He looked around the room.
"Neither did I," he admitted when no one spoke. "I had to look it up. It means 'Be Not Afraid.' His eyes returned to the unhappy young agent. "In this job you'll have to do things that scare you. You might be afraid, but you must be brave. When I ask you to do something, you must trust there's a good reason. And I need to trust that you will do it. D'accord?”
Gamache
Noli Timere
“Discharging cargo in the ports along the coast of South Africa went faster than loading it, but from Durban up to Dar es Salaam, hoping to save a little time not to mention port costs, we frequently did both at the same time, in these quaint little harbors along the coast,
By now some of these ports had become old hat to me and so I volunteered to stay aboard. This way I could make some overtime pay by covering for some of the other mates, who wanted to go ashore.
When we finally got to Dar es Salaam and I was informed that we would be there for a few days, I took advantage of the situation and finally went ashore. One of my favorite places in this British owned, colonial town was the “New Africa Hotel.“ It had an open air courtyard in the middle of the building, with wild monkeys swinging through the trees making loud blood curdling noises. Although the rooms were not air-conditioned, they were open to a constant breeze coming in off the Indian Ocean.
In the 1950’s, all of the beds had mosquito netting to keep the pesky winged vampires out and to prevent getting malaria; which most of us got anyway.”
Africa
Mma Captain Hank Bracker
Sea Stories
Sexy Humor
Dar Es Salaam
Mosquitoes
Early Greek Philosophy
“We are strangers in this world, and the body is the tomb of the soul, and yet we must not seek to escape by self-murder; for we are the chattels of God who is our herdsman, and without his command we have no right to make our escape. In this life, there are three kinds of men, just as there are three sorts of people who come to the Olympic Games. The lowest class is made up of those who come to buy and sell, the next above them are those who compete. Best of all, however, are those who come simply to look on. The greatest purification of all is, therefore, disinterested science, and it is the man who devotes himself to that, the true philosopher, who has most effectually released himself from the 'wheel of birth.”
Ethic
Pythagorean
The Island of Second Sight
“There exist, he says, natural, vulgar, and pathological variants of this impulse, in addition to a higher form which is the only genuinely humane type. Its vulgar manifestation lacks all moral value, and can occur even among mindless animals. The less educated one is, the less familiar one is with the qualities of other places in the world: all the stronger is the attraction to the patch of land where one first saw the light of day. In this respect, Greenlanders and Laplanders, Samoyeds and Hottentots must be listed together with the cowherd on his Swiss Alpine meadow.”
Ignorance
Xenophobia
Narrowmindedness
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