Bookmarker is a personal project by @dellsystem to help with retaining reading material. Source on GitHub.

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1 year, 10 months ago

confusing the New Left with the counterculture

For this reason, I will call both those who actually established such communes and those who saw the transformation of consciousness as the basis for the reformation of American social structure New Communalists. In doing so, I hope to tease apart an important strand of countercultural thought and …

—p.33 From Counterculture to Cyberculture: Stewart Brand, the Whole Earth Network, and the Rise of Digital Utopianism The Shifting Politics of the Computational Metaphor (11) by Fred Turner
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1 year, 10 months ago

how do you be an adult in this world?

[...] Ever since the Soviet Union first tested an atomic bomb in 1949, Americans, and particularly young Americans, had suffered under a thick cloud of nuclear anxiety. For the college students of the early 1960s, that anxiety fused with fears for their own professional futures. Thanks to the power…

—p.31 The Shifting Politics of the Computational Metaphor (11) by Fred Turner
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1 year, 11 months ago

I was aware that I was being profoundly ungenerous inspo/self-deprecation

He was supposed to be working at a Sacramento Hertz, lost in memory and yearning. Or pacing around their shitty little house with Claire telling him to take out the trash and him saying What? And her saying Take out the fucking trash. Blazing around the stage, doing the thing he was put on this ear…

—p.320 All Fours by Miranda July
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1 year, 11 months ago

God, I’m not usually this nervous inspo/attraction-watershed

I waited for her to say more, but she was done talking, so I took over. Yammering away, I went back and forth in my mind about whether there was a charge between us—I wasn’t overcome by lust, but then, she didn’t seem to be, either. She was sober so I decided not to vape. If I wasn’t aroused by the…

—p.267 by Miranda July
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1 year, 11 months ago

this was the cost of that free feeling each morning topic/heartbreak

“We went back to her place.”

“Okay.” I stood up. “Okay then.” I sat down. I put my hands to my cheeks and then clasped them in my lap. “All right. All right then.”

He watched me, braced for whatever was coming. I crossed my arms and looked away. So, this was the cost of that free feeling each…

—p.260 by Miranda July