Memorable Stuff I Read This Week

In history there are no control groups. There is no one to tell us what might have been. We weep over the might have been, but there is no might have been. There never was. It is supposed to be true that those who do not know history are condemned to repeat it. I dont believe knowing can save us. What is constant in history is greed and foolishness and a love of blood and this is a thing that even God-who knows all that can be known-seems powerless to change.

— Cormac McCarthy / All the Pretty Horses

will we inherit everything
on the internet:
miles of sand melted into windows, click

— Nell Wright / “the future”

It’s hard to be knocked down when you’re on all fours.

— Miranda July / All Fours

The smiling moonwoman dips in cloudy swells,
And my wan, suffering psyches know new power, 
Finding their strength in conflict’s tortured hour.

— Else Lasker-Schüler / “Sphinx”

Research shows people break traffic laws across the board—drivers, cyclists, even pedestrians. A 2020 Colorado study found 7–9% of both cyclists and drivers commit infractions. The difference? Motivation. Cyclists often roll red lights for safety—to stay visible, or ahead of overtaking traffic. Drivers usually do it to save time.

And the consequences? A missed signal on a bike might annoy someone. The same in an SUV could be fatal. Context—and mass—matters.

— Ron Johnson / “Your Comeback Guide to all the Anti-Cycling Arguments You’ll Hear This Year” / Momentum Mag

We met ourselves as we came back,
And were happy in mist and rain.
Our old souls and our new souls
Met to salute and explain—
That a day shall be as a thousand years,
And a thousand years as a day.

— Vachel Lindsay / “Meeting Ourselves”

In the end we all come to be cured of our sentiments. Those whom life does not cure death will. The world is quite ruthless in selecting between the dream and the reality, even where we will not. Between the wish and the thing the world lies waiting. I’ve thought a great deal about my life and about my country. I think there is little that can be truly known.

— Cormac McCarthy / All the Pretty Horses

What I’m Listening To:

Search for conviction
With eyes open wide
Feeling so restless
So empty inside

— The Feelies / “Slipping (Into Something)”