Irrelefante

Eu postei no Pão com Mortadela ontem a já tradicional (décima edição!) lista das minhas cinco dicas favoritas do ano: o filme, jogo, série, música e link que eu mais gostei do ano.

Scott Tobias, The Dissolve:

“Dramatizing one man’s love affair with a computer is only slightly less absurd than imagining a portal into John Malkovich’s head, but at a certain point, the whimsy gives way to raw desire and hurt. It’s a deft kind of magic.”

“Call it narcissism, but everyone seeks a partner who understands and appreciates them, and it’s only human that Theodore would fall for an entity that reflects his best image of himself.”

“If there’s a measure of hope to Her, it’s in the thought that we’re capable of learning lessons and evolving—maybe not as fast as Samantha, with her seemingly infinite processing power, but enough to understand ourselves and other human beings better the next time around.”

“There’s comedy in asking a computer how it feels, but the answer feels important, because Samantha has become every bit as real to the audience as she is to Theodore. Her is a reminder of how much love is a melding of psyches, and how the memories it produces can judder and lose resolution once it’s over. Whether it can transcend the body is another question, but the film’s stunning final shot implies an answer.”

ass-master-2000:

doncherrycola:

thinking about this again

nudityandnerdery:

celerylapel:

oysters-aint-for-me:

Happy Monday.

Anotações: sobre “blogar”

I want to write more frequently about anything and everything, because it’s good for you, and I have so many thoughts constantly assailing this brain of mine

Sometimes it feels like we’ve traded drawn-out storytelling for fleeting moments where the audience bounces from one to the next
[…] The blog era represented freedom and opportunity.

There was no central hub, like a Spotify today, where all the playlists and means of discovering music are organized neatly within the platform. You had to search, to dig! Even when you grabbed a song directly from an artist’s social media, you almost always wanted to know more because context was the norm. So you’d go to your favorite blog, which is what everyone did the night “Acid Rain” surfaced out of nowhere, and you’d get the full story.

I, however, miss going to Blockbuster because it forced me to actively discover, to take in more elements of the art beyond just the film file. Did the cover catch my eye? How about the description on the back? Did it rope me in? Was the film I wanted not in stock, forcing me to search for something new?

Emly St. James:

The comfort in Zodiac is the comfort of doomerism, the idea that we are completely fucked, and it’s better to just admit it. The only people who matter are the monsters in the shadows who’ve broken the world and the people sitting right in front of you, who might be able to help you shine what meager light you possess into those shadows.
[…]

The kind of light dehumanization that peppers the edges of Zodiac’s frames is something we all practice from time to time. When you are engaged in a really intense conversation in a restaurant, the server might become an abstraction to you. You’re aware they’re there, but you’re also really locked in on what you and your friend are chatting about. This filtering of the world is normal, even healthy. Our brains have to shut out some information to make sense of what’s important to us in that moment.

Yet watch Zodiac again with an eye toward how Fincher utilizes this technique. The longer the movie goes on, the more other people only seem to exist as disconnected blobs in the background somewhere. The second you start to really look at them, you might start to think they mean to do something horrible to you. So you learn not to see them, and the world becomes a collection of scary stories waiting to happen.

Eu atualizei meu ranking dos Super Mario para o Pão com Mortadela com Bowser’s Fury e Super Mario Bros. Wonder.

arinewman7:

Ilmatar

Joseph Alanen

1913–1916

urbnite:

No outro lado da sala

Nós não temos nada em comum. Ele é todo místico. Ele gosta de incensos. Ele é vegetariano.

Nada disso importa no outro lado da sala. Quando eu tô sentado no sofá, e enxergo ele contra a janela, fumando um cigarro, com a luz do pôr-do-sol iluminando o horizonte. Quando isso acontece, só existe a gente, não existe nada que nos torne tão diferentes assim.

Ele não é o amor da minha vida. Eu nem quero que ele seja. Eu gosto de saber que, levantando do sofá, e indo embora, eu carrego todo o meu mundo comigo. Ele veio numa boa hora, e logo ele vai embora.

Eu não quero um amor pra minha vida. Eu tentei encaixar a pessoa que eu achava ser o amor da minha vida nessa minha vida. Quando eu não consegui, eu tentei me encaixar na vida dela. Eu também não consegui. Eu tentei pedir ajuda dele para criarmos uma vida em comum juntos, e não conseguimos.

Mas daí ele apareceu, e eu vi que eu não preciso de um amor na minha vida para me sentir querido, ou completo. Eu estava me sentindo querido, completo, por mim mesmo, quando ele apareceu. Quando ele me olhou do outro lado da sala, e viu algo tão bonito quanto o que eu estava vendo.

Nós não temos nada em comum. Ele vai embora em breve, ele tem os problemas dele, que ele não fala sobre. Eu tenho os meus, e não falamos sobre. Nada disso existe no outro lado da sala. Só existe nós, a janela, e o pôr-do-sol.

nicnacsnonsense:

bionelly2:

alwaysatomicconniseur:

mag200:

you may walk out of the underworld but you have to trust that she is behind you. do not look back to check.

[

i trust that she is there

](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/arthrfrts/734646059731730432)[

i trust that she is there (i think)

](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/arthrfrts/734646059731730432)[

i trust that she is there (please?)

](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/arthrfrts/734646059731730432)[

i trust that she is there (can you hear me?)

](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/arthrfrts/734646059731730432)[

i trust that she is there (say something so i can hear you)

](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/arthrfrts/734646059731730432)[

i trust that she is there (what if it’s a lie?)

](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/arthrfrts/734646059731730432)[

i trust that she is there (i can’t even see her shadow on the wall)

](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/arthrfrts/734646059731730432)[

i trust that she is there (SAY SOMETHING)

](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/arthrfrts/734646059731730432)[

SAY SOMETHING.

](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/arthrfrts/734646059731730432)[

look behind.

](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/arthrfrts/734646059731730432)See Results

#jesus.#orpheus and eurydice#as a poem#using a poll#this is probably the greatest exploitation of mediums i have ever seen op#every reader has the chance to become part of the text by voting#not the subtext#the TEXT#and i love me some ephemeral works in concept#you had to be here for this one week#and then the text is locked#(barring any edits to the original post of course)#and i just think that’s so beautiful#beauty springs from the simplest things viewed askew#and all you need is a poll that accepts long enough strings (via couchcrusader)

and then THE FINAL RESULT. where “look behind” came so so so close to winning, but “i trust that she is there” came out ahead by 0.1%. so maybe, maybe, we did it right this time. maybe this time we were able to save her.

I can’t stop crying over this. How beautifully human this is. We know how this story will end. Orpheus will look behind him. Millions of retellings over thousands of years and he always looks. We know how the story ends.

And yet, in spite of all our knowledge and experience, the larger part of us — not much larger, only 0.1%, but still larger — can’t help but hope. Maybe there’s still a chance. Maybe this time we can save her.