darksilenceinsuburbia
flavorpill:


Rich Kids of Instagram, the novel based on the popular Tumblr of the same name, isn’t a good book. It’s filled with horrible, vapid characters that make the characters on Gossip Girl seem like scholars, who have names like Desdemona Goldberg, along with a butler named Balthazar, and people who still say things like, “What the fuck do I know about Brooklyn? I don’t do Brooklyn.” It contains lines like, “Here I was in a fully loaded penthouse with no parental guidance and plenty of sexual frustration. I could have been the poster child for needy rich-girl slut who confuses fucking with affection. I was a masturbation fantasy and somehow my boyfriend had not noticed.” It’s tough to take any of this seriously, and even harder to believe people so terrible could exist (even though we know they actually do), but the thing about Rich Kids of Instagram is that it’s so insanely bad, it’s actually really enjoyable.

'Rich Kids of Instagram' and the Joys of Reading Total Garbage

flavorpill:

Rich Kids of Instagram, the novel based on the popular Tumblr of the same name, isn’t a good book. It’s filled with horrible, vapid characters that make the characters on Gossip Girl seem like scholars, who have names like Desdemona Goldberg, along with a butler named Balthazar, and people who still say things like, “What the fuck do I know about Brooklyn? I don’t do Brooklyn.” It contains lines like, “Here I was in a fully loaded penthouse with no parental guidance and plenty of sexual frustration. I could have been the poster child for needy rich-girl slut who confuses fucking with affection. I was a masturbation fantasy and somehow my boyfriend had not noticed.” It’s tough to take any of this seriously, and even harder to believe people so terrible could exist (even though we know they actually do), but the thing about Rich Kids of Instagram is that it’s so insanely bad, it’s actually really enjoyable.

'Rich Kids of Instagram' and the Joys of Reading Total Garbage

nearlya

lafilleblanc:

Andrea Galvani

Death of an Image, 2006

"When things become hot or very cold they change.
Sometimes it happens in such a radical way that it is no longer possible to recognize them. They change so much that, by just looking, there is nothing that would enable us to recognize their original molecular structure. At the same time, beyond 780 nm, the threshold of the visible spectrum, the human eye is plunged into darkness, a cosmic darkness in which the electromagnetic waves transmitted by objects are imperceptible.
Death of an Image is an attempt to cross a boundary, the desperate need to cancel something out in order to rebuild it.

Objects, placed within the area of the shot according to precise perspectival hierarchies, generate their own absence, exposing hiatuses in the landscape, cloaking it, transforming the subjects. They are physical subtractions repeated in space, calibrated violence that triggers a process of the image’s resurrection. They are precarious interventions, light superstructures that interfere, doubling the visual epicentre.”