The Genius of Gena Rowlands

(via fuckyeahgenarowlands)

“The goal is always an economically sustainable career, which inevitably draws indie filmmakers to television. With independent film, you can count on two hands – let’s hope its two hands! – the artists who can maintain economic stability and continue making films. It’s very challenging. Instead of being nostalgic or harkening to any kind of self-pity, I try to go back to Cassavetes, Orson Welles and similar filmmakers who I love who were not handed the opportunity to make their work on a silver platter. So if you consider independent film as not a subset of Hollywood but as an opportunity for economic freedom, then it can be inspiring. You have to earn that freedom, however, which is something I strive to do.”

unexplained-events:

Kummakivi or “Strange Rock” can be found in the forests of Finland. These strange geological formation have, without any scientific explanation, wound up in a perplexing positions. The mystifying sight is that of a giant rock performing an unbelievable balancing act on a seemingly smooth, curved mound. 

(via veganimal)

Finally a film (from Jason Reitman, no less) that doesn’t exploit or hyperbolize the usage of modern means of communication but rather casts a light on our already lit screens (or maybe sits us in the dark absence of any light) to reveal how we socialize (and isolate ourselves) these days - looking particularly into how well, as the trailer puts it, we really know each other in spite of how we try to seem.

Now, to read the book.

The following comes from Amanda Palmer: 

connecting the dots in ferguson, care of my dad, jack palmer.

"Almost exactly fifty years ago James Powell, a 15-year old black, was shot and killed by a policeman in New York City. The ensuing riots lasted a week, resulting in one death and some 500 injuries. The policeman claimed he had been attacked with a knife, seen by none of the eyewitnesses to the shooting, and was cleared of wrongdoing by a grand jury. Soon after, Phil Ochs wrote “In the Heat of the Summer.”

“In the Heat of the Summer”
Phil Ochs

In the heat of the summer
While the pavements were burning
The soul of the city was ravaged in the night
After the city sun was sinking

Down the street they were rumbling
Bricks were heavily flying
Oh where, oh where were the white silver tongues
Who forgot to listen to the warnings?

Drunk with the memory of the ghetto
Drunk with the lure of the looting
And the memory of the uniforms shoving with their sticks
Asking “Are you looking for trouble?”

“No, no, no,” moaned the mayor
"That’s not the way of the order
Stay in your homes, please leave us alone
We’ll be glad to talk in the morning.”

“For shame, for shame,” wrote the papers
“Why the hurry to your hunger?
Now the rubble’s resting on your broken streets
And you see what your rage has unraveled.”

And when the fury was over
Shame was replacing the anger
So wrong, so wrong, but we’ve been down too long
And we had to make somebody listen.

Into its third century, our country is still dealing with all the noxious results of racial intolerance, now compounded by inequality and diminished expectations. “Where, oh where were the white silver tongues?” indeed. 


(thanks dad)

gaycroissant:

bellecs:

thesoulshouldalwaysstandajar:

This is video is of a 14 year old boy at the Ferguson Protest. It is beautiful and eye opening. Take the time to watch this. I teared up a bit.

fuck i’m crying.

I fucking love this

(via lunarix)

newyorker:

The vocoder—part military technology, part musical instrument—has had quite a history. Through interviews with musicians and vocoder specialists, our latest Object of Interest video focuses on a tool that’s been everywhere from World War II to Kraftwerk parties.

newyorker:

Take a look at works from a recent exhibit that highlights how artists are redefining smartphone photography.

Top: Photograph by Laura El-Tantawy, Bottom-Left: Photograph by Tiny Collective, Bottom-Right: Photograph by Echo/Sight

neil-gaiman:

Barron Storey. One of the greats.