(Source: weheartit.com, via hermeticlibrary)
(Source: arcaneimages, via crlbnt)
Infant Urban Guerilla Utility Uniform (female)
KABUL, Afghanistan — War is an ageless poetic wellspring, yielding wrenching odes to the white heat of combat, the longing for lost loved ones, the dust of graveyards. Now a controversial new anthology unveils a collection of seldom-heard voices: those of Taliban fighters. — ‘Poetry of the Taliban’ elicits both anger, astonishment
I had again that second of pure joy I sometimes experience. It came, as always, without warning, and vanished nearly at once. I was on my way to the bakery with exactly eleven pesetas left. It is difficult to define and perhaps I shouldn’t try. It must be the highest and sharpest point of all the senses, or the mind, I don’t know. Remembering, I see myself and the street in a clear but blurry light, static, like a film abruptly stopped. I remember thinking suddenly these words, “Now I shall know,” then, when the rush of feeling I can only describe as pure joy was pulling away, these words: “This is why one lives.” It was like a wave and an inner explosion of light all at once, and not physical in any way. — Everyone should read Mavis Gallant’s journals, excerpted this week in the New Yorker, though sadly unavailable online unless you have a subscription. (via michelledean)
President Bush and the reptilian Ambassador.