seattlemysterybooks:

ubu507:

(1954) It was coming clear now — just as something thundered over and ground me down into darkness…

1954 Dell paperback original
his 9th novel
Seattle Mystery Bookshop

seattlemysterybooks:

ubu507:

(1954) It was coming clear now — just as something thundered over and ground me down into darkness…


1954 Dell paperback original

his 9th novel

Seattle Mystery Bookshop

Steelhead, Grand Ronde River, Oregon

Emerald Water Anglers, Seattle

Steelhead, Grand Ronde River, Oregon

Emerald Water Anglers, Seattle

gacougnol:

Paul SchuitemaPlaying Gramophone 1929

gacougnol:

Paul Schuitema
Playing Gramophone
1929

Pigpen (Ron McKernan) of the Grateful Dead, Europe ‘72 tour, by Rosie McGee

Pigpen (Ron McKernan) of the Grateful Dead, Europe ‘72 tour, by Rosie McGee

(Source: rosiemcgee.com)

We will also, I believe, take a more serious look at our place in nature. Exalted we are indeed, risen to be the mind of the biosphere without a doubt, our spirits capable of awe and ever more breathtaking leaps of imagination. But we are still part of earth’s fauna and flora. We are bound to it by emotion, physiology, and not least, deep history. It is dangerous to think of this planet as a way station to a better world, or continue to convert it into a literal, human-engineered spaceship. Contrary to general opinion, demons and gods do not vie for our allegiance. We are self-made, independent, alone and fragile. Self-understanding is what counts for long-term survival, both for individuals and for the species.

-

E. O. Wilson

http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/02/24/the-riddle-of-the-human-species/?hp

The Beach Boys

The Beach Boys

Original hand-tinted print William Henry Jackson print held in the collection of the Colorado Historical Society (by David Arnold, National Geographic)

Original hand-tinted print William Henry Jackson print held in the collection of the Colorado Historical Society (by David Arnold, National Geographic)

Sometimes at night I think one can feel even the pressure of mice waiting in the walls of old houses. All that concentrated life around us and above us, held in check, surging impatiently, ready for a new experiment, tired of us, waiting our passing, active with the busy mysteries of the cell. Sometimes one catches oneself wondering what the fire-apes were intending when they crossed the barrier, whether they were cut short in a new experiment, something smaller, more delicate, more—something, but not a human something. Something for which human beings must first be gotten out of the way. It is perhaps significant that even we ourselves feel a growing inadequacy. Perhaps that is really the secret. Perhaps we are going away.

- Loren Eiseley, "The Fire-Apes" (1949)

Danny Rifkin’s business card — original co-manager of the Dead

Danny Rifkin’s business card — original co-manager of the Dead

(Source: powerlesspress)

best record ever? perhaps
ace1965:

Fairport Convention “Liege And Leaf” promo, Rolling Stone magazine, June 11. 1970.

best record ever? perhaps

ace1965:

Fairport Convention “Liege And Leaf” promo, Rolling Stone magazine, June 11. 1970.

(via Twitter / iman_jorgeno: Lou Reed and Laurie Anderson)

(via Twitter / iman_jorgeno: Lou Reed and Laurie Anderson)

"See you next year at the Halloween Parade…."

Lou Reed; the last photo shoot by Jean Baptiste Mondino.
Shot at Industria Superstudio, NYC. September 21, 2013.

Lou Reed; the last photo shoot by Jean Baptiste Mondino. Shot at Industria Superstudio, NYC. September 21, 2013.

It was Reed who defined the band’s sensibility, embodied its contradictions. He was a romantic alienated bohemian and an antiromantic pop ironist, a middle-class Jewish kid from Brooklyn who came on like a streetwise punk in tight jeans and shades, a classical piano student turned rock and roller, Bob Dylan-cum-Nelson Algren-cum-Jean Genet. He talked his songs in an expressive semi-mumble that made you think of James Dean without the naiveté.

Not that Lou did not display his own kind of innocence. His songs hinted, when you least expected it, that underneath the meanness and paranoia, the affectless brutality that smothered pain, there was after all the possibility of love.

-

Ellen Willis

RIP, Lou.

(via ellenwillis)