n. the inexplicable urge to push people away, even close friends who you really like—as if all your social tastebuds suddenly went numb, leaving you unable to distinguish cheap politeness from the taste of genuine affection, unable to recognize its rich and ambiguous flavors, its long and delicate maturation, or the simple fact that each tasting is double-blind.
Ten years after The Mountain Goat’s “Tallahassee,” Zach Baron returned to Florida with singer-songwriter John Darnielle to search for remnants of the album’s mythic inspiration. What he found is a lesson on people who make things, people who enjoy them, and the space between the two.
“Is this a ridiculous story, do you think?” is what the recording tells me I asked first, which is unfortunate. He replied, in a kind way, “I am really, aggressively and reactionarily anti-nostalgia. Like, when people talk about the music that they liked in high school growing up, I just can’t stand it. I hate it.” He paused. “I acknowledge it’s a reactionary position, because obviously if I didn’t think people who’d been making music for 20 years couldn’t make good music, then I wouldn’t be making music. But I really consider nostalgia toxic.”
It kind of went on like that from there.
(via fuckyeahthemountaingoats)
—HE SWIMS LIKE A FISH
the wave pictures and john darnielle of the mountain goats - he swims like a fish
(via fuckyeahthemountaingoats)
Séance cat thinks you’re not taking this seriously.
n. [Brit. wallesia] a condition characterized by scanning faces in a crowd looking for a specific person who would have no reason to be there, which is your brain’s way of checking to see whether they’re still in your life, subconsciously patting its emotional pockets before it leaves for the day.
Dream from the other night: I’m sitting in a room with a low window facing out onto a busy street. I’m working on something when I notice that someone has stopped just outside the window and had taken a step closer. I look down through the blinds and can see a very old woman with white hair and stooped back peering in under the blinds. She can see the floor of the room I’m in and the legs of my chair, but my feet are just out of sight in the shadows. Immediately I sense that if I move and she sees me something horrible will happen to me so I freeze in terror. She steps closer to the window and I can see dark circles under her eyes. I realize it’s a dream at this point and I need to wake up. I started by trying to move, but I couldn’t, so I tried to make a noise so I would wake myself up. I’m trying to call out to my cat and to my boyfriend, but no one comes. Then I remember I could just open my eyes and right as I do I hear someone say, ‘don’t go yet, we haven’t even started!’.
(Source: thetruthisvital, via gunstreet)
First, go grab some headphones. The best ones you’ve got. If the best ones you’ve got are these suckers (or something similar), you should really go buy new ones, but use the best you’ve got for right now.
Take a break from whatever you’re doing for 2 minutes and listen, but just listen to the whole thing, even if you have to multi-task.
Headphones on? Ok. Good.
Now, press play.
“Upular (3D Audio Version)” - Pogo
well, this made my day better.
AV Club Holiday Undercover 2011- The Mountain Goats cover “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” [#]
(Source: boringstein)
Falling in love is part of her daily routine. She falls in love with little details that catch her eye during the day. A half empty beer bottle under a park bench. One single, little plant growing from a brick wall. Details like that stay with her for a long time, because of what they made her…
—thucydides II-58
This comic is dedicated to Victor.
Oh, and see you tomorrow at the book signing!
The thought of winters upcoming arrival is making me ill.
—Augusten Burroughs, Dry (via okinami)
