Archive of August 2016
Aug 29, 2016
Ultimately, the Levitt experiment may echo that weather-beaten advice often attributed to Eleanor Roosevelt: “Do one thing every day that scares you.” Faced with two seemingly equal options, choose the scarier. Not because the universe will respect your courage and grant you Unlimited Power, as Robbins would probably tell you. But because fear is almost certainly skewing your judgment.
— (via When life deals a bad hand, the clever gambler will twist, not stick | Life and style | The Guardian)
Aug 25, 2016
Bryne: Suppose it's all true, and you walk up to the pearly gates, and are confronted by God. What will Stephen Fry say to him, her, or it?
Fry: I'd say, bone cancer in children? What's that about? How dare you? How dare you create a world to which there is such misery that is not our fault. It's not right, it's utterly, utterly evil. Why should I respect a capricious, mean-minded, stupid God who creates a world that is so full of injustice and pain. That's what I would say.
Byrne: And you think you are going to get in, like that?
Fry: But I wouldn't want to. I wouldn't want to get in on his terms. They are wrong.
Aug 24, 2016
Jensen has written that people sometimes ask him why he doesn’t just kill himself, if things are as bad as he says. “The answer is that life is really, really good. I am a complex enough being that I can hold in my heart the understanding that we are really, really fucked, and at the same time that life is really, really good. I am full of rage, sorrow, joy, love, hate, despair, happiness, dissatisfaction, and a thousand other feelings. We are really fucked. Life is still really good.”
Aug 9, 2016
Sport ist mir eigentlich egal. Ich empfinde wenig bis gar nichts, wenn fremde Menschen einen Ball in ein Tor schießen, mit dem Auto im Kreis fahren oder einander ins Gesicht schlagen, bis einer umfällt. Großveranstaltungen wie die Olympischen Spiele sind für mich nichts weiter als ein Schaulaufen der Sponsoren, für die ein paar hundert Sportler vor der Kamera ein gedoptes Theater namens "Wettkampf" aufführen, während wenige Straßen weiter Panzer die Favela befrieden und zwanzig Stockwerke höher IOC-Funktionäre eine Koks-und-Nutten-Party schmeißen.