The life and mind of Ari Einbinder
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Love it!
More phone doodles…
On the phone with Spikey, April 16th.
Is she swimming? Is she falling? The ambiguity makes me happy.
Recently it occured to me how odd breathing is on first glance. That led me to wonder: Back in the day, before people knew what oxygen was or hemoglobin, what the hell did they think breathing was for? Eating I can understand — after all, you’re ingesting something; it’s obviously nourishing. But what possible use could there be to sucking in and blowing out pure nothingness? Why is this a vital life function?
Honestly, whatever reasons they conjured up to explain breathing must have been fascinating. I imagine it was something metaphysical, sort of like “connecting with the universe” or whatever. A certain spiritual nourishment.
And I kind of like that idea, that we are nourished by some force in the universe, by breathing in … the world! existence! That we share, quid pro quo, by providing some of our life-force, or energy, or spirit, or whatever term you’d like, by exhaling. It’s a wonderful way to view the universe and everything in it. An infinitely fine thread which connects all life together. I like that.
Then science had to come along and gum up everything.
rabble.
A Post-Script: Whoever solved the riddle of breathing must’ve really pissed off a lot of spiritual/philospical people.
ARI (In Louisiana, right after our Radio show. via rachadler2003)
Awesomeness. I was on the show! woohoo!
Coming home from very lonely places, all of us go a little mad: whether from great personal success, or just an all-night drive, we are the sole survivors of a world no one else has ever seen. — John le Carre (via kylebingman)
Granted I’ve posted this quote before but I feel the last sentance can be applied to a group setting also. Like an all-nighter. A rare but special occasion probably involving few people. Like sorting the wheat from the chaff. Personally I feel being part of an all-nighter is being part of a world no-one else has seen.
dig it.
!!!When I was in high school, it was normal to spend between an hour and five each night on the phone with the boy I liked. We’d talk about anything and everything. Just laying in bed, staring at the the ceiling, or out the window. Just laying there and talking. I feel like I really shared so much of who I was with these boys and they did the same thing back.
So that was ten years ago and its been way too long. I want to have a good, long chat with a boy and not be jaded. And to just listen. I talk too much as it is.
so how absolutely true is this?! high schoolers pour their hearts out to each other. maybe a little prematurely, but is having a full heart ever a bad thing? i think we go to college, maybe have a few wild nights, and lose that sense of connection with another human being. we, as a group of social people, kind of really suck. this is why i’ve been sort of restrictive in my dating choices. i don’t want any more emptiness.
I miss the lovesickness. I miss anxiously tapping my foot as the bus rolls toward the stop near her house. And I miss the carefree, easy, loving, sweet-nothing conversations which stole the hours of every night of every day.
-sigh-
Donald Calne, noted neurologist (via dchly) (via siddman)
Why the hell have I not checked my tumblr of late? This is the stuff of ancient wisdom. (In fact, I’m gonna go jot this down on my papyrus!)
A certain 69 year old Lee Spievak lost half an inch of finger to an agressive model plane blade, and doctors had little hope for the appendage. Lucky for Lee, his brother Alan works in the field of regenerative medicine, and sent him some powder (which lee calls “pixie dust”) to apply to the finger. Four weeks later Lee had grown back the entire finger, as good as new. The pixie dust is actually modified cells scraped from the lining of a pig’s bladder cleaned into a general-purpose tissue generator - the cells basically tell the body to grow instead of scar. Doctors have high hopes for the cells, for everything from amputees to burn victims to cancer patients. We’re just waiting until they can program these cells to grow that third arm we always wanted.
While I want to confirm this, I confess that stories like these are why I have unwavering faith in science.
The secrets that pound inside my head
And keep me awake
Are the same ones
That will keep me asleep
At daybreak.
Rachel, I lie by the dust of your feet, humbled by your insights. This is the thought I’ve been waiting all week for.
I’m praying for a blackout. A huge, extended night free from electron-flow and radio hum. One where people go outside and enjoy the cool breeze because the air-conditioners don’t work, where people bar-b-que and sing and finally meet their neighbors, make friends and joke by candle-light till the wee hours of the morning while sitting on rusty lawn chairs and tossing back not-so-cold beers with strangers. People living in the moment and without a care in the world since no-one’s rushing off to work the next morning; hell, no-one’s rushing off to anything except experiencing life, guzzling down sweet, beautiful existence and soaking in the passing minutes. I pray for a blackout. At least for one day. Then we can rush back to our routinely misguided and pathetic lives.
So, Zach and I started a site to further contaminate, purify, and enliven the universe with only the most well bred and sophisticated insanity. More details as they arrive:
Siamese twins
–noun
] ləm, -lɛm/ - Show Spelled Pronunciation [goh-luhm, -lem] –noun ]
My computer has gone into a coma and so I can’t actually see the video. But it’s from Ronen, so I’m sure it’s either awesome or incriminating — which means that either way it’s awesome. b’teyavon!
My First Flickr Video! Joe tells Ari his bar story. Nobody can tell a story like Joe.