What Pinterest Taught Me About Marriage as a Capitalist Prison by Academic Coach Taylor
Slacktory: “This article covers how Pinterest fetishizes owning stuff, and how that relates to the Western institution of marriage, and holy crap, this is a genuinely insightful article that starts with an analysis of dumb ol’ Pinterest. Read it.”
The editor of Academic Coach Taylor is writing cultural analysis for Slacktory!
(via nickdouglas)
Ain’t it the truth.
I got married when I was a 23-year-old fetus. Way too early and way too stupid. And this started immediately.
The wedding gifts say it all. We got the bread maker. The knives. The one thing of every thing of all things. And we had nowhere to put it all. So we bought a house, but then holy shit there was too much space. So we bought more stuff.
We went through three houses like that. Two married children with better jobs and more privilege than they deserved, trying to keep the fuck up.
And I figured it out at one point. That I was really just buying things and waiting to die.
I spent the next few years learning to undo both of those trends.
I am a minimalist at heart in nearly all things. My mind and heart need the space that other things quickly occupy. And the trend described above will drown a person like me. And it tried.
After the divorce, I sold everything and rebuilt according to need.
And I have yet to buy a breadmaker.
They say Miami is heaven’s waiting room.
I say the consumerist Western marriage model is Miami’s waiting room.
(via luckyshirt)
(via luckyshirt)
name number standard weight
beryllium 4 9.012182
gold 79 196.966569
titanium 22 47.867
fluorine 9 18.9984032
uranium 92 238.02891
lithium 3 6.941
iodine 53 126.90447
Craig
To Whom It May Concern,
I would like to enthusiastically recommend Kelly Conard for a fellowship at ACT. I have been at Grossmont College for 21 years and I have spent many summers working at the La Jolla Playhouse and Old Globe Theatres. Kelly was my student in numerous classes, and I believe that she is well qualified, and would be very successful, in the Theatre environment of the American Conservatory Theatre.
Kelly is extremely intelligent and was a joy to have in class. She is punctual, professional and very well organized. She has learned, and applied that knowledge, to not just her academic life but also to the way she deals with people and the noise of everyday life. Kelly completed all things that were required of her and did so with enthusiasm and passion.
While here at Grossmont College Kelly completed several designs and displayed an aptitude for scenery and lighting. She understands how all design areas of theatre, including directing, choreography and costuming, interact and was once a house manager for the Theatre Department.
Kelly’s artistic skills are exemplary and her written work is very good. She is disciplined and understands the necessity of deadlines. She also understands how important it is to function as part of a team to mount a theatrical production. Kelly is a self-starter and, importantly, she absolutely loves the theatre.
On a personal note, Kelly is the rare student that all instructors crave. She is curious, creative and generous. She was an asset to the Theatre program at Grossmont before heading to Santa Cruz and UC-Davis, and there is no reason to believe she would not become an asset to ACT. I believe there are great things ahead for Kelly. I am proud to have contributed to her education, and I am sure you will be pleased when she begins her fellowship with you.
Please do not hesitate to contact me if I can be of any further assistance.
Yours Sincerely,
A STRONG PERSON
And every woman in the world is silently doing the golf clap in their head, that one male finally got to experience that humiliating ritual.
Fuck you, toilet seat covers.
I didn’t come into this stall to solve a fucking Rubik’s Self-Destructing Tissue Puzzle, but that is exactly what your three stupid fucking “tear me right here to release the center piece but just a little no that’s too hard oops I’m confetti” pieces provide me with every fucking time.
I actually think confetti would be more practical. There should just be a big fucking bucket of confetti next to the toilet that I can grab and throw straight into the toilet because I think that would be just as effective as sitting on the shredder ribbons I end up with once I’m done with your fucking MENSA Paper Challenge.
Am I supposed to bring scissors? Is there some fucking incantation or rap that releases your useless fucking center? Should I just go in my pants? I feel like that would be easier and preserve twice as much of my self-worth.
And why do you even have that center part? It just gives me a fourth and larger “Bonus Round!” because there is no fucking way I’m letting that thing hang into the toilet so the toilet water can climb it up to my ass. So I’ll just tear that off too and oops thirty-fifth time’s a charm, I guess.
Fuck it, I’m going to salvage as much of you as I can, and arrange you on the seat like a fucking homemade jigsaw puzzle made by Edward Scissorhands after drinking a twelve-pack of Four Loko™.
And that should take me just long enough to convince the fucking motion sensor that I’m sitting and not surgically restoring the Shroud of Turin on this toilet seat, so when I stand up, the toilet automatically flushes and pulls the whole fucking thing in so I have to start over.
I’ll just hold it until next time I’m in Chicago O’Hare where they have that fucking Hogwarts shit on their toilets that automatically re-covers the entire seat after every flush. That makes more sense and costs less than the therapy bills.
Mind Dump
I got an email yesterday morning notifying me that my thesis posted on March 24th. I officially have a Masters Degree now.
I need to run by the shop next week and pick up my tires so I can actually start putting this damn bike back together. I should also get Eric to open up Tom’s office so I can get my thesis back.
After reading an article about some malware effecting Mac’s I did a complete system update and reboot. Synced to external, synced my phone and wiped the 200 something pictures I had collected in my journeys through the East Bay.
My bank is trying to take more money from me than they originally promised and without my permission. I compromised to $40 but it’s still a bitch calling them and playing the customer service Russian roulette. At least the second guy was helpful.
I need to make that ringtone for Andrew.
3 doors down Andrew is still in Chicago till Monday. I feel like I should make him cookies when he returns. He might need it. That’s a long time with relatives and attending a conference.
My spelling is attroticous today. I’m not even going to fix that one.
I feel the need to do some art but just being in my apartment without having something to pack and somewhere to be is enough euphoria for me right now. It’s times like this where I realize that I pick up as I wander around and it weirds me out that I like to clean, all the time.
I want to buy some more groceries but I threw so much out last week that it makes me feel like I’m wasting food instead of actually saving money by eating at home.
I should write Chuck a thank you note for the care package
I miss Kara
My truck is starting to worry me more and more. I am due for an oil change but can’t really afford it. The back right tire slipped t
and then my internet sucked.
yep. that.
Of mice and trackpads
I’ve had a Mac laptop for about five years now. When I’m surfing it’s just second nature to use the trackpad. My right hand belongs right there on the middle of this metal beast. In an effort to start using my desk as a desk instead of a place to throw papers I’ll never look at again, I’ve had my laptop comfortably set up to where I can reach the keyboard with both of my elbows still on the desk (which makes typing a hell of a lot faster). This leaves room for my current loose sheets of drawings and notes to sit in front of the laptop and my phone is somewhere within visual distance but far enough away to ignore, but where does the coffee go? Lately it’s be directly in front of me blocking the trackpad. This would be the time to reveal that I also have a magic mouse, just chillin, you know, sucking up batteries like there is no tomorrow to transmit a bluetooth signal exactly 3 inches away.
Yet I still use the damn trackpad.
I’ll admit, the magic mouse is necessary for when I’m drafting and doing a lot of editing but other than that this SOB just sits here. Did I even need it in the first place since apparently I’ve trained myself to blindly go for the trackpad even when there’s a mountain of caffeine in my way? Someday it will all make sense, I suppose, when I finally pony up the cash to own every machine Apple makes that can run on bluetooth connections and I can control my blender with my wireless mouse (stranger things have happened) but until I move out of the 600 sqft one bedroom that I can hear my neighbor sneeze in I’m pretty sure I don’t need to control anything outside of my own reach.
Time for another one of these
In the next year I want to:
Learn Gaelic Irish
Learn how to play the piano
Learn how to read sheet music
Take a graphic design class
Create more things for myself and my friends
Paint more
Finish designing my tattoo
Get that tattoo
Pay more attention to my alma marters
