Since when did Blogging become “Out of Style?” -gianna gordon

Being a substantial obsesser with social media, technology, and the whole synopsis of the world connecting with one another through a phone screen, I have quickly come to the mindset that this kind of adaptation throughout our world is anything but impressive. For one, we are drowning our knowledge in senseless tweets, pictures and videos of our youth involving themselves in reckless and risky behaviors, which leads to further disasters awaiting to happen. Second and surely the most important reason to share this idea is that technology like even blogging is simply ruining our ideas, twisting them, and dumbing them down in just a few short words. Our ideas and mindset is the most precious thing we can hold onto, and yet all the world can talk and “tweet” about is the new “Common White Girl” tweet, or Kim Kardashian’s newest selfie. Whatever happened to our young youth waiting to see the newest comics in the Saturday morning newspaper, or the latest fashion in the magazines. It’s simply all turned into irrelevant thoughts in a short three word sentence on Social Media. 

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When it Stops Raining We Sleep Beneath the Stars

Deep rain, deep thoughts, deep knowledge

I Could Drive Forever

In the morning, I pack my things as the sun rises, eat pop tarts and drink cold instant coffee while I shove everything into my pack. The boys are still asleep in their tents when I set out on the trail.

It’s cold, but not raining, so I hike in short sleeves because I know I’ll be sweating soon. Pop my headphones in and zone out. This is my favorite time to hike. When the day is burgeouning and my body feels strong. When my thoughts are new and everything is exquisite. When I fall in love with thru-hiking all over again.

It stays sunny all day, and the air is so thick and warm that I’m sweating even on the downhills. Which there is no shortage of. The shooting pain in my knee is back, so I take tiny ballerina steps which helps with the hurt but frustrates me…

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Are You An Anthropocentrist?

Superiority is a simple myth

Laura Grace Weldon

animal intelligence, anthropocentrism, Paradise, by Gillis d’Hondecoeter circa 1575

When I was growing up we were taught humans were at the top of every chart, far superior to all other living beings. Our textbooks, illustrated with stereotypical images of “cave men,” proved the assertion with a long list of what our species could do that others could not. The list was so smug that I was a bit embarrassed on behalf of my fellow homo sapiens. A skeptic even then, I thought the list was somewhat prejudicial. Worse, it didn’t acknowledge what feels obvious to young children, that we are all things and all things are us.

I don’t for a moment dismiss our many human accomplishments—among them language, science, the arts, and shared rules meant to advance mutual compassion. I simply mean to point out that we’re not better, we’re different.

Besides, what I was taught as a kid doesn’t really hold up. Here are…

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“Music was better back then”: When do we stop keeping up with popular music?

It’s conventional to think our songs are better categorized as “jams”, but does anyone sit back to listen to the discrimination, terror, classless things artists think of & serenade us to today?

Skynet & Ebert

After sixty years of research, it’s conventional wisdom: as people get older, they stop keeping up with popular music. Whether the demands of parenthood and careers mean devoting less time to pop culture, or just because they’ve succumbed to good old-fashioned taste freeze, music fans beyond a certain age seem to reach a point where their tastes have “matured”.

That’s why the organizers of the Super Bowl — with a median viewer age of 44 —  were smart to balance their Katy Perry-headlined halftime show with a showing by Missy Elliott.

Missy don't brag, she mostly boast Missy don’t brag, she mostly boast

Spotify listener data offers a sliced & diced view of each user’s streams. This lets us measure when this effect begins, how quickly the effect develops, and how it’s impacted by demographic factors.

For this study, I started with individual listening data from U.S. Spotify users and combined that…

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My Love Song to Toronto

Expanding the boundaries, because after all Love expands the furthest ….

Ryan Bolton.

Toronto is my muse.

Here are some of my favourite shots of this great city as of late. Go explore.

Humber Bridge Toronto By Ryan Bolton. All Rights Reserved.

Photo by Ryan Bolton. All rights reserved. Photo by Ryan Bolton. All rights reserved.

Flatiron Toronto Gooderham By Ryan Bolton. All Rights Reserved.

IMG_7810 By Ryan Bolton. All Rights Reserved.

Toronto's flatiron the Gooderham Building. (Photo by Ryan Bolton) By Ryan Bolton. All Rights Reserved.

Toronto at night | Photo by Ryan Bolton By Ryan Bolton. All Rights Reserved.

IMG_1733 By Ryan Bolton. All Rights Reserved.

Toronto at Night Photo By Ryan Bolton. All Rights Reserved.

Purple & Blue CN Tower By Ryan Bolton. All Rights Reserved.

Humber Bridge Toronto Night By Ryan Bolton. All Rights Reserved.

Toronto Flatiron Night Photo By Ryan Bolton. All Rights Reserved.

Boy and the Tower (Photo by Ryan Bolton) By Ryan Bolton. All Rights Reserved.

To see more of my photography, go here. If you’d like to use or purchase any of my work, contact me here.

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Baltimore.

This perspective is maybe the best thing I have ever heard in my life.

yesivebeenthere2

I’m not black, and I’ve never been persecuted for my skin color. But. I know what it’s like to endure years of unrelenting abuse at the hands of power.

If you’ve never experienced it, if your mind can’t grasp the scale, then maybe this personal story will help you understand.

My mother beat the shit out of me from 3 to 13. CRUNCH! There’s no suitable onomatopoeia for the sound of an adult’s hand belting a child across the face. There’s no word that describes what it’s like to feel your cartilage ring. She’d backhand me across the face for nothing, out of nowhere. She’d beat me with whatever was handy — spoon, belt, hand — and she’d always scream at me that it was my fault. I made her do it. There was always a reason, always a transgression. “You’re only hurting yourself!” CRACK!

By the time I was…

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