Here are two secret Tumblrs I have that are only secret in that I’ve never mentioned them:
- Fragment Ideas and Too Many Pronouns: This is a lyrics blog. It’s not for good lyrics, or for discussion of lyrics. It’s just for me to post lyrics that are currently occupying my attention.
- #Cityporn: Yes, #cityporn is a Tumblr now! That does not mean, however, that #cityporn will die on Screw Rock ‘n’ Roll. I will always be up for a lascivious examination of the urban environment. The idea of #Cityporn-the-Tumblr is that, exploring in scrapbook style, I shall turn my attention to one city and thoroughly exhaust myself on it before moving to the next. Commentary is kept to a minimum and used for informational — not speculative or narrative — purposes. The first city is Philadelphia, for reasons I forget.
Marcy sat on top of the G train, which connects Brooklyn to Queens, but not to the city. For Marcy kids, Manhattan is where your parents went to work, if they were lucky, and where we’d yellow-bus it with our elementary class on special trips. I’m from New York, but I didn’t know that at nine. The street signs for Flushing, Marcy, Nostrand, and Myrtle avenues seemed like metal flags to me: Bed-Stuy was my country, Brooklyn my planet.
Jay-Z, Decoded (2010)
It makes sense, since it came from L.A., that the whole gangsta rap movement would be supported cinematically. But by the time Dre produced The Chronic
, the music was the movie. That was the first West Coast album you could hear knocking all over Brooklyn.
Jay-Z, Decoded (2010)
mootpoint replied to your photo: Um
The Province is not the classiest paper.
Yeah, I figured. I’m just a Newseum geek, like 90% of everyone who’s laid out a newspaper page.
I’m reblogging just so I can tell you all how much I love the Newseum. Amazingly, I don’t think I’ve mentioned my Newseum-love here, but it is deep and abiding. The Newseum is awesome. It really is one of the best things in D.C.
I love the Newseum.
I get awfully sick when I hear comparisons to the Roman Empire. They were so much grimmer than we are, the Romans, so lacking in emotions and sentiments. Our songs and cities are the best things about us. Songs and cities are so indispensable. Even if we go into darkness, the time will come when people will want to know how these ruins were made—the essence of the life we made.
Jane Jacobs in Adam Gopnik, “Cities and Songs,” The New Yorker, May 17, 2004
Quoting not because I agree with her — I do, though her reasoning is a little nutty — but for the day I finally get this blog going properly.
Where does it come from, this silly and feigned idea that it’s good to be able to claim a small-town background? It was once said that rural America moved to the cities as fast as it could, and then from urban to suburban as fast as it could after that. Every census for decades has confirmed this trend. Overall demographic impulses to one side, there is nothing about a bucolic upbringing that breeds the skills necessary to govern a complex society in an age of globalization and violent unease. We need candidates who know about laboratories, drones, trade cycles, and polychrome conurbations both here and overseas. Yet the media make us complicit in the myth—all politics is yokel?—that the fast-vanishing small-town life is the key to ancient virtues.
Christopher Hitchens, “Michele Bachmann: A small-town, small-minded isolationist,” Slate, June 29, 2011 (via zainyk)
I’ve snipped the political specifics to focus on the phenomenon Hitchens describes. Though I agree about the value in urban America, should it surprise that America looks fondly on its small town past? Sure, rural America moved to the cities as fast as it could, but there’s nothing unusual about a feeling that in changing ourselves we have left an essential piece of us behind. Maybury idealism is that angst writ on a national scale.