I am on tumblr at the wrong time. I would have loved to be on tumblr when topherchris was still posting regularly. When Julia and Jakob were happy. When soupsoup was breaking news. When tumblarity encouraged all of us to post more. When having an opinion didn’t mean activism. When we weren’t half-heartedly applauded for groupthink. When personal photos weren’t just instagram embeds. When you could embed auto-play .swfs that would make your followers furiously click “watch video” links to find the culprit and angrily unfollow you. When people were happy with themselves.
“I wish there were shortcuts to wisdom and self-knowledge: cuter abysses or three-day spa wilderness experiences. Sadly, it doesn’t work that way.”
“But so-called “private life” is still not essential, that is, being human. It merely sticks to a negation of what is public. It remains the dependent offspring of
and feeds on its ”
retreat from what is public. It thus attests to its own will to subservience to the general public.
“The silence that, without any deferential air, listens with polite attention, is more flattering than compliments, and more frequently broken for the purpose of encouraging others to speak, than to display the listener’s own powers. This is the really eloquent silence.”
“What I am writing about is human nature. I write about the South because I think the war between romanticism and the hostility to it is very sharp there.”
“He seemed without care because he had so many.”
“Nothing’s a joke with me,” as one of her characters says. “It just all comes out like one.”