hackerschooljuju

[hackerschooljuju]

in the country that looks like you

My child, my sister

Think of the sweetness

To go there to live together

To love at leisure

To love and to die

In the country that looks like you

[hackerschooljuju]

translating french texts

Maintenant n’espère plus que l’espoir Là où tu vas les vents sont méchants La lumière y envoie ses flèches noires «Plus de chemin, il se fait en marchant.»*

Hope now only for hope where you go the winds are cruel the light sends her black arrows No more road, the road is made by going

Là-bas on y parle irréel Quelle astronomie! Cache tes lacs, ignore le ciel L’étoile du nord s’y est enlevé la vie

There they speak unreal What astronomy Hide your lakes, ignore the sky The north star took there her life

Au revoir l’ami Prends ce talisman Si mon coeur bat, c’est à cause de lui Je t’en fais serment

Goodbye friend Take this talisman If my heart still beats, it’s because of him I swear

Ton flanc et ta gorge déployés Sous l’empire d’une étrange sentence Une foudre étonnante rêve déjà D’embraser la forêt de ton innocence

Your flank and your throat deployed Under the empire of a strange sentence An astonishing thunder dreams already To set afire the forest of your innocence

Amers Manitobas! Sous le blizzard de l’intolérance À genoux sur une plaine froide À lui quêter du sens

Bitter Manitobas! Under the blizzard of intolerance On your knees on a cold plain Begging it for meaning

If only, if only if only i knew how to help a balm, a bandage at least for this moon which will bleed in your hands

the earth trembled, that was her wish you open the skies and you breathe still this dust of light binds up your hurt it’s the north star entered into your body

Si seul, si seul Si seulement je savais t’aider Un baume, un pansement au moins Pour cette lune qui saignera dans tes mains

La terre a tremblé, tel était son souhait Tu ouvres les cieux et tu respires encore Cette poussière de lumière embaumant ta plaie C’est l’étoile du nord entrée dans ton corps

Alleluia! Toi l’homme vaillant T’es là toujours comme l’amour La vie t’a pris comme amant

Alleluia You the faithful man you are always there like love life has taken you as her lover

Her lips open, oh what trouble Get up, get up Go, go To dance, to dance in her arms

Ses lèvres s’ouvrent, ô quel fracas! Lève, lève-toi Vas-y, vas-y Danser, danser, dans ses bras

[hackerschooljuju]

inherently correct

Physical fitness is inherently correct. It's always in style, timeless and waiting.

It can't go on forever though, there's always something to realign the path of man. Maybe this time around it'll be me who becomes the wheel of fire. Maybe it's me who cuts the brakes.

[hackerschooljuju]

au pays qui te ressemble

Mon enfant, ma soeur, Songe à la douceur D'aller là-bas vivre ensemble! Aimer à loisir, Aimer et mourir Au pays qui te ressemble!

---

translation:

my child, my sister

think of the sweetness

to go there to live together

to love at leisure

to love and to die

in the country that is like you

[hackerschooljuju]

[hackerschooljuju]

brunch isn't over. it's over for you

WITH depressing regularity, I hear about closings in the East Village of my childhood — the Odessa bar, De Robertis pastry shop, St. Marks Sounds. When my parents moved onto the neighborhood’s main street, St. Marks Place, in 1973, their rent was $225 a month. Today, the same apartment would most likely be $5,000. People who remember the good old days often say that today’s real estate prices mean that boho corners of New York like the East Village are finally — really and truly — dead. How can music, art or beauty survive when the only entity that can afford a corner lot is Chase Bank, and when young artists have to live five to an apartment on the Morgan stop of the L train? Just give up on New York, people like Patti Smith advise young artists, and move to Detroit.

[...]

I REMEMBER what it felt like getting ready to make something exciting happen, to feel a sense of the city and time radiating out in all directions, like the spokes of a wheel, with me and that night at the center. [...]

Who understands the soul of any place? Who deserves to be here? Who is the interloper and who the interloped-upon? Who can say which drunk N.Y.U. student stumbling down St. Marks Place will wind up writing the next classic novel or making the next great album? It’s hubris to think you can tell by looking at them. The beloved artist Keith Haring, whose giant green sculpture now stands on the corner of St. Marks and Third Avenue, spray-painted “Clones Go Home” on the borders of the East Village in 1980 to try to protect it from invasion by some of the same people who now feel invaded. When he waged this campaign, he was a middle-class college student from suburban Pennsylvania who had been in New York for two years.

“I just read a story about how brunch is over,” a friend says. “One of the commenters said: ‘Brunch isn’t over. It’s over for you.’ ” Just because you stopped staying out late and sleeping in and then stumbling over to Cafe Orlin for a Bloody Mary and eggs at 2 p.m. doesn’t mean no one else is doing that now, or doing something that feels just as exciting.

If you’re complaining about the East Village, or New York in general, being dead, I think it’s worth considering the possibility that, yes, it is over — for you. But for plenty of others, the city is as full of potential and magic as it was in 1977. Or 1964. Or 1992. Or whenever you last walked down the street and felt like it belonged only to you.

[hackerschooljuju]

Surreal ... when I lived in nyc I went to party where Skeme was djing ... it was one of those sublime parties that showed me why people live in NYC despite how grueling it is ... a pizza place opened in my little town that serves a real Brooklyn slice with Shinto-esque Japanese perfection vs some kind of transmission oil crust served by Bangladeshis in a rat infested hole ... I was literally thinking about that party when I went to wash my hands and saw that skeme is djing in my little town

I feel like I've grown old -- I've become a fat old lady vs. a young hot bgirl, but I'm going to go and I'm going to dance anyways, just like old black people still bust a move.

"The entire point of the village dances is that anyone could do them"

[hackerschooljuju]

come on, come out, come here, come here

[Verse 1] If you were here beside me Instead of in New York If the curve of you was curved on me I'd tell you that I loved you Before I even knew you 'Cause I loved the simple thought of you

[Verse 2] If our hearts are never broken And there's no joy in the mending There's so much this hurt can teach us both And there's distance and there's silence Your words have never left me They're the prayer that I say every day

[Chorus] Come on, come out, come here, come here Come on, come out, come here, come here Come on, come out, come here, come here Come on, come out, come here, come here

[Post-Chorus 1] The lone neon lights and the ache of the ocean And the fire that was starting to spark I miss it all, from the love to the lightning And the lack of it snaps me in two

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Cherry On Top

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[Verse 3] If you were here beside me Instead of in New York In the arms you said you'd never leave I'd tell you that it's simple And it was only ever thus There is nowhere else that I belong

[Chorus] Come on, come out, come here, come here Come on, come out, come here, come here Come on, come out, come here, come here Come on, come out, come here, come here

[Post-Chorus 2] The lone neon lights and the ache of the ocean And the fire that was starting to spark I miss it all, from the love to the lightning And the lack of it snaps me in two

[Outro] Just give me a sign, there's an end with a beginning To the quiet chaos driving me back The lone neon lights and the warmth of the ocean And the fire that has started to go out

[hackerschooljuju]

bad girls

spxrk what type of girls are you into? Anonymous I Like Girls That Dont Hesitate Because “He Might Think This.. Or That”, The Bitchy Type That Talk Alot Of Shit & Do What They Want. I Like Fucking Them Senseless & Seeing The Satisfaction On There Faces. Bad Girls

[hackerschooljuju]

As far as cho-fu-sa

While my hair was still cut straight across my forehead

I played about the front gate, pulling flowers.

You came by on bamboo stilts, playing horse,

You walked about my seat, playing with blue plums.

And we went on living in the village of Chōkan:

Two small people, without dislike or suspicion.

At fourteen I married My Lord you.

I never laughed, being bashful.

Lowering my head, I looked at the wall.

Called to, a thousand times, I never looked back.

At fifteen I stopped scowling,

I desired my dust to be mingled with yours

Forever and forever, and forever.

Why should I climb the look out?

At sixteen you departed

You went into far Ku-tō-en, by the river of swirling eddies,

And you have been gone five months.

The monkeys make sorrowful noise overhead.

You dragged your feet when you went out.

By the gate now, the moss is grown, the different mosses,

Too deep to clear them away!

The leaves fall early this autumn, in wind.

The paired butterflies are already yellow with August

Over the grass in the West garden;

They hurt me.

I grow older.

If you are coming down through the narrows of the river Kiang,

Please let me know beforehand,

And I will come out to meet you

As far as Chō-fū-Sa.

[hackerschooljuju]

born to it

The boy who rode on slightly before him sat a horse not only as if he'd been born to it which he was but as if were he begot by malice or mischance into some queer land where horses never were he would have found them anyway. Would have known that there was something missing for the world to be right or he right in it and would have set forth to wander wherever it was needed for as long as it took until he came upon one and he would have known that that was what he sought and it would have been.” ― Cormac McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses

[hackerschooljuju]

“If you look around eyes of some people you see a kind of demented energy. It’s pure anger or lust for power with nothing more. I hate to dirty these pages with mention of names of nobodies in our time. But if you see photo of Hillary Clintong or Adam Schiff with his eyes bugged out on stims and antidepressants or who knows what, you know what I mean. There is a crease around the eye that tells it, it looks like cyborg gone off-script, these people have an inhuman gaze and are vehicles for something else. You see this also in the chiefs of the EU bureaucracy with tiny moleman eyes behind small glasses, and the tiny lenses that reflect light. You see it in the dead robot eyes of the new hue-man automatons running government departments, the DMV, the brutal zombies running the security in airports or hospital “health care” rooms under vicious yellow fluorescent lights. I wanted to expose the grim shadow of a movement that is hidden behind events of our time and from before. This is a great power that acts like a ghost. It hides in its own darkness and it has been absorbed by the lands and the peoples so that you can’t really see it anymore. There is just an eldritch quality embedded in things and on some faces. The same was said of Hades. Some said he would feel a great shame when some other god drew back the veil on the underworld so all the vile things that are there could be seen. Is this Hades of our time capable of shame?” ...

“Spiritually your insides are all wet, and there’s a huge hole through where monstrous powers are fucking your brain, letting loose all your life and power of focus. You don’t see yourself as you really are, but maybe some nightmare can show it to you. I am here to show you the way out.”

[hackerschooljuju]

my other favorite photographer James Nachtwey

Natchwey was a war photographer, imho THE war photographer, he is famous for documenting the famine and civil war in Sudan

[hackerschooljuju]

fan ho

my favorite photographer is fan ho, a self taught photographer who shot film in the 50s in hong kong.

Fan Ho said that technique is not that important, what's important is feeling and seeing

[hackerschooljuju]

i'm fully confident in my photography, suck it forums losers, i don't need anyone to tell me shit. i took some of these in the days of the fucking flip phone lmfao, and more than a decade later they're still perfect

[hackerschooljuju]

the future has an ancient heart

There’s a line by the Italian writer Carlo Levi that I think is apt here: “The future has an ancient heart.” I love it because it expresses with such grace and economy what is certainly true—that who we become is born of who we most primitively are; that we both know and cannot possibly know what it is we’ve yet to make manifest in our lives. And it was true. I always would have guessed it, even all the time that I feared it would never happen. Being there that night was the meaning of my life.

[hackerschooljuju]

nerves of coldest steel

I'm really bad at reading emotions. But I know what fear looks like. It's in the face of the male high schoolerbaito trying to find how 「温めますか」is supposed to be asked in English. Old ladies know no fear. They just go on their routine, smiling at the hairy white demon. Hand steady, nerves of the coldest steel. Knows how to deal with us, any question not answered with a grunt means only she can choose to either tap on that "Yes, I'm an adult" button on the touch screen, or to give you both a fork AND a pair of お箸, because fuck you, environment.