The Hemophiliac's Motorcycle

A collection of literature, music, and various cultural posts named after the poem by Tom Andrews.

We are all alone, born alone, die alone, and — in spite of True Romance magazines — we shall all someday look back on our lives and see that, in spite of our company, we were alone the whole way. I do not say lonely — at least, not all the time — but essentially, and finally, alone. This is what makes your self-respect so important, and I don’t see how you can respect yourself if you must look in the hearts and minds of others for your happiness.

 Hunter S. ThompsonThe Proud Highway: Saga of a Desperate Southern Gentleman, 1955-1967 (via ypsych)

(via bikesandbridgess)

Pretty Brilliant shit.

(via mccandlessand45s)

The New Yorker: Poem to Daniel Pearl

newyorker:

Note: A couple of weeks ago, I spent some time in Los Angeles with the parents of Daniel Pearl, a brilliant and courageous reporter for the Wall Street Journal who, ten years ago this month, was kidnapped and slaughtered by terrorists in Pakistan. At the time of his death, Danny’s wife, Mariane,

was pregnant with their son. In the videotape that the terrorists forced Danny to make before they killed him, he spoke bravely and plainly of his identity, “My father is Jewish, my mother is Jewish, I am Jewish.”

Since that unspeakable day, the Pearl family members, each in their own way, have kept the memory of Danny alive in many ways—in books, lectures, scholarships, a foundation. The other day, Judea Pearl, Danny’s father, sent me a poem that he had written not long ago… —David Remnick

The Lions’ Den
To Daniel Pearl on the Anniversary of His Death
by Judea Pearl

Come walk the road to lions’ den
South of midnight, planet earth, Karachi, Pakistan.
Some called it “nursery,” some named it “shed,”
A “compound,” “shack,” the newspapers said.

I found it in my father’s holy book,
“The lions’ den,” the caption read.

Come touch the walls on which two eyes
with thousand dreams wrote songs
and fiercest battles, ancient wars,
for seven days, went on.

Never in the field of human conflict
Has there been a clash so total
so intense in charge and aim
Between two cosmic forces
so compressed in space

So opposed in vision
so rooted in conviction
Across so close a distance
Before so many eyes.

Never stood a son of Abel
so fiercely to the face of Cain
A giver—to the teeth of claim,
A curious—to the blinds of self.
A listener—to the deafening shrieks of zeal.

Alone!

Never beamed a ray of light
so deeply to the core of darkness
Music, to estrangement,
Principles, to whims
Reason, to the impulse
Mankind, to Attila, the Hun

Never was this saga chanted
in so powerful a rhyme:
“My name is Daniel Pearl,”
Softly spoken from the den,
Softly, from Karachi, Pakistan

And when Daniel was lifted from the den,
So the Bible tells us,
No wound was found on him,
Because he stood his ground
Because he stood our ground
So the Bible tells us.
(Daniel 6:28)

(Source: newyorker.com)

(via npr)

3 months ago - 348

(Source: braintapshuffle, via pai-a)

The most interesting man in the world, dead at 74

For all its bravura, Mr. Fairfax’s seafaring almost pales beside his earlier ventures. Footloose and handsome, he was a flesh-and-blood character out of Graham Greene, with more than a dash of Hemingway and Ian Fleming shaken in.

At 9, he settled a dispute with a pistol. At 13, he lit out for the Amazon jungle.

At 20, he attempted suicide-by-jaguar. Afterward he was apprenticed to a pirate. To please his mother, who did not take kindly to his being a pirate, he briefly managed a mink farm, one of the few truly dull entries on his otherwise crackling résumé, which lately included a career as a professional gambler.

(Source: soupsoup)

3 months ago - 355
realityayslum:

Jennifer Hudson, Untitled, from the series Flora, 2010.

realityayslum:

Jennifer Hudson, Untitled, from the series Flora, 2010.

The opposite of an idealist is too often a man without love.

Camus, A Happy Death

The protagonist, Mersault, replies shortly thereafter, saying something to the effect of ‘don’t believe it’.

(via tiredshoes)

(Source: crumpledmap)

So do I.

So do I.

(Source: inothernews, via pitchfork)

enternechoplex:

Poster for: Sound of My Voice.

enternechoplex:

Poster for: Sound of My Voice.

oliphillips:

The Lost Art of Hand Lettering
by Chris Yoon

oliphillips:

The Lost Art of Hand Lettering

by Chris Yoon

A dream room…but I know I’d never be able to keep it this clean.

A dream room…but I know I’d never be able to keep it this clean.

(Source: changeyourgame, via inspiredbylit)

myliferunsonfood:

Chocolate by Rita Dove