"I wake up for myself."

Jonah Grant, smart kid:

Since adopting the philosophy of high school being a day job, my happiness with school has increased exponentially. I find that I no longer have any sort of regard for any of the social stigmas of high school and that any stresses over assignments have become accomplishable tasks that, in due time, will pass.

Wake up early before school or work. Run a mile. Walk your dog. Make breakfast. Break your cycle. Breaking your cycle changes the way you look at things, and in turn the things you look at change.

The Future of the Bookstore

For a bookstore to remain successful, it must improve “the experience of buying books,” says Alex Lifschutz, an architect whose London-based practice is designing the new Foyles. He suggests an array of approaches: “small, quiet spaces cocooned with books; larger spaces where one can dwell and read; other larger but still intimate spaces where one can hear talks from authors about books, literature, science, travel and cookery.” The atmosphere is vital, he adds. Exteriors must buzz with activity, entrances must be full of eye-catching presentations and a bar and café is essential.

The element missing from all of the proposals laid out here is personalization; character. Atmosphere is vital, but that atmosphere doesn’t have to be the same in every store, everywhere — and shouldn’t be. Bookstores tried that approach in the ’90s. It was called Borders, and it didn’t last (despite a cafe in every store).

The bookstores that continue to succeed do so because they offer something that isn’t easily duplicated, online or elsewhere: personality. Whether that personality manifests in the staff, selection, or the physical space, the atmosphere should be a reflection of it, not a formula of cafes and lectures that happened to work for one particular store.

(Source: casualoptimist.com)

Why Medical Bills Are Killing Us

If you are confused by the notion that those least able to pay are the ones singled out to pay the highest rates, welcome to the American medical marketplace.

I literally shook as I read Steven Brill’s epic breakdown of inflated medical expenses — not because I was angry (though I was), but because there is nothing —nothing — that terrifies me more than the American healthcare system.

Statistically speaking, you might encounter some pretty heinous stuff over the course of a typical human lifespan in this country. You might be struck in a car accident, be gunned down in an elementary school or movie theater, blown up in an office building. You might, but you probably won’t.

But as it stands today, you are almost certain, pratically guaranteed, to get fucked by healthcare bills at some point. It’s just a question of how badly. 

(Source: thefeature.net)

The Hourchive: Movie Directors: Auteurs | Ep #61

As mentioned in this week’s podcast, whenever I see a new Quentin Tarantino film, I watch for a scene similar to one in most of his movies where the main character, often looking into a mirror, gives him- or herself a pep talk in the midst of a pivotal moment. It happens in Reservoir Dogs when Tim Roth heads out of his apartment and goes to meet his new partners in crime as Mr. Orange for the first time. In Pulp Fiction, Vincent Vega dictates exactly what he’s going to do (and implies, by extension, what he is definitely not going to do) with Marcellus Wallace’s wife. Following her escape from a coma ward in Kill Bill Vol. 1, The Bride crawls into the backseat of a car and convinces her unresponsive legs to start working again by talking to herself

These are all good scenes, but my favorite take is in Jackie Brown (coincidentally, my favorite Tarantino movie). 

The scenes in Pulp Fiction and Kill Bill feel like movie scenes. They are conspicuously framed and shot. The moment when Jackie catches her reflection in the fitting room somehow seems more real, random; just a little askew. Travolta and Uma have all the time they need to complete their monologues, but Jackie’s moment of introspection is fleeting, interrupted. It’s clear what’s going through the minds of Mr. Orange and Vincent and the Bride, but what about Jackie? Is she having second thoughts? Does she reach a decision before it’s time to move along, or does life pull her away from her thoughts before she’s finished — the way it sometimes does to us? 

Ugly and Mean

James Reeves stops for gas and stares down disillusionment.

Standing in the grass near every highway ramp, there’s a man holding a cardboard sign. Sometimes it says veteran, sometimes it says father, it always says hungry. I give him a dollar. I try to do this every day, but I know that it’s nothing. I hate these moments when my nation not only looks ugly and mean, but it feels like a mirror.

Chuck Wendig on Coffee

I like good coffee. I grind it and brew it myself. I’ll French Press some motherfucking bean juice now and again, but I don’t get crazy about it. I don’t require my coffee to be run through the intestinal tract of a rare Sumatran rat-monkey, but if you try to serve me Keurig coffee in one of those little pre-configured K-Cups, I’ll break all your fingers with my back teeth.

The Freedom in Being Ignored

By chance I ran across another eulogistic take on Brooklyn’s evolution today, this one from veteran resident David Wondrich, whose essay for Esquire’s March issue (not currently available online) charts the unexpected rise of the borough’s cultural influence and cites an important condition that made it possible.

There’s a freedom in being ignored. Away from the spotlight, Brooklyn developed something people want, and now they’re coming to take it away.

The freedom in being ignored — the idea that one can create something great by being allowed to experiment and fail and learn without the kind of scrutiny or expectations that encompass places like Manhattan or London or Los Angeles — is a concept I’ve heard repeatedly over the last few months, but not in regard to Brooklyn.

We have this great opportunity; yeah, we’re in “flyover country,” but we’re this urban island and we’re so unadulturated and so wide-open that you can really be a part of something great here. It’s big enough that it matters nationally but also intimate enough that you can make a difference and be noticed for your contributions.

That’s Randy Vines discussing civic pride and economic opportunity in St. Louis on the January 17, 2013 episode of Stay Tuned STL.

I’m often frustrated by the inclination some have to judge St. Louis (or any metropolitan area) by comparing it to other cities. In doing so it’s too easy to miss the facets that ultimately give a place like Brooklyn its notoriety. But as St. Louis struggles to reassert itself both to its own citizens and to an increasingly indifferent world at large, there is value in being overlooked. With the freedom afforded by being ignored, the right mix of authenticity and aspiration can make “Brooklyn” happen anywhere. Maybe even here.

All your San Franciscos will have to fall eventually and burn again

Alex Williams for the Times on the breaking Brooklyn myth and the search for compromise beyond the boroughs: 

With an increase both in density and in the atmosphere of busy professionalism, Brooklyn no longer feels as carefree as it did, said Ari Wallach, a futurism consultant, who recently cut short a Brooklyn real estate search.

“There is more looking down, less eye contact,” said Mr. Wallach, 38. “The difference is between the first three days of Burning Man, when everyone is ‘Hey, what’s up?’ to the final three days of Burning Man, when the tent flaps are down. Brooklyn is turning out to be the last three days of Burning Man.”

Why We Love Beautiful Things

We think of great design as art, not science, a mysterious gift from the gods, not something that results just from diligent and informed study. But if every designer understood more about the mathematics of attraction, the mechanics of affection, all design — from houses to cellphones to offices and cars — could both look good and be good for you.