Lloyd Dobler Forever.

“It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced–or seemed to face–the whole external world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just so far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey.”
PADDY WILKINS /
COLORFORM: ARTIST PROFILE
I’m the youngest of five. My siblings have always been my good life ambassadors and connoisseurs of cool, pointing out the good stuff and showing me what’s possible.
Exhibit A: My brother Pat. He’s on your teevee in between regularly scheduled programming, and now he’s got a photography show at CURIO studio in LA. Super pumped/proud. Check it out this weekend if you’re in sunny SoCal.
T-Paining Too Much: The Meme-ification of Charles Ramsey
So many big questions to ask about Cleveland, so much to grapple with. So much that is unthinkable but needs so direly to be thought about. I feel like it’ll be a while before I can say anything intelligent about it. But in the meantime here are some thoughts about the side questions around the Charles Ramsey phenomenon.
This dude knows what’s up!
Prince is talking to YOU. It is you and Prince. You are having a conversation. It’s incredibly intimate and you feel truly alive and truly present and truly in your body. You feel very yourself and very grounded despite the fact that you and Prince are having this conversation in the eye of a temporal mega-storm at the nexus of infinite timestreams. And Prince is telling you:
He is all things, yet entirely his own thing.
He is all things, but there’s nothing like him.
And he would wink out of existence — and then be nowhere, and yet somehow everywhere, still — and he would do it just for YOU.
The whole business is pretty fucking Prince.
I saw Prince two and a half weeks ago at the Roseland in Downtown Portland, and never quite figured out how I would communicate the full breadth and depth and lightness of my experience via various social media documentation tools. (Purple limo. Purple-painted venue. Be-Princed patrons. No. I can’t even start.)
But luckily, DC Pierson just wrote THIS FUCKING THING—about Prince and the Internet and time and technology and projections of self and mindfulness and all things simultaneously mind-numbing and beautifully life-affirming—and it’s sort of the best. You should totally read it.
This makes my heart very happy. Pay it forward, pass the mic, etc.