This tumblr belongs to Michael Kearney, a singer, songwriter, and music producer from Latrobe, Pennsylvania.
Kind of funny being surrounded by college kids 3 days /week. They live with their heads buried in their phones. How is that at all different from being a monkey trained to push a button for a pellet of food? Look at device, hit button, get jolt of stimulation. You’re being trained to be an obedient consumer.
Kids don’t even talk to each other. Sure they’ve got a little click of friends & cling to that network through their phones, but it seems like we’re creating generations of autistic weirdos. Being able to communicate will be the commodity in the next generation, because it will be so rare. I guess kids have all-day running dialogs with their friends via txt msg? I dunno, I don’t get the appeal of that.
Maybe I’m just always looking for some kind of spark, an original idea, some type of insight, something happening, somewhere, anywhere. Some humor, some mirth, fucking anything man, besides spending the day interfacing with a device. Fuck.
Life is short Make Memories to last a lifetime
My Aunt Kathy passed away today. This was on her facebook profile. Seems like pretty good advice to me.
Interactive session #1 for Intro to Business Management systems:
How Eric Jackson, president of Jackson Kayak, runs a 120 person organization remotely from his iPad and his RV while traveling around to kayaking events.
Booyah! This is the exact type of organization/lifestyle I want. I think I’ll be taking notes/creating action plans in this class.
Sound is 50 percent of the motion picture experience
— George Lucas
Go on, go on, just walk away
Go on, go on, your choice is made
Go on, go on, just disappear
Go on, go on, away from here
— Robert Smith, The Cure “In Between Days” (1985)
You hear about those silly stories about someone sleeping with a guitar, but that’s the way he did it. He always had the guitar on, he was always working on his rhythm-and-blues guitar playing. That was his love, and he would practice it over and over again. He wouldn’t practice scales; he would practice rhythm.
— Billy Cox on Jimi Hendrix (according to Joe Satriani)