Shaun Evaristo, choreographer extraordinaire, has control, timing, and most importantly, a passion for movement. As my friends and I say when we see something like this, his moves are so raw and it is effortless to see why.
Watch him freestyle…no wait, lemme type it again, FREESTYLE…to Frank Ocean’s “Pyramids.”
There’s just something about being home that brings out the best in me.
(via the-truman-show)
Scheduling my own TV network? Fun as fuck. Writing about where I’m gonna get the money? Well, that’s why I have my business degree. BRING IT ON TV INDUSTRY.
Aggression currently fueled by Chrisette Michele’s Audrey Hepburn Mixtape: An Audiovisual Presentation. So smooth and sexy. Thanks Sampler.
For my TV Commerce class, we were to watch Elisabeth Murdoch’s MacTaggart Lecture from Edinsbourough earlier this year. She gave a hell of a speech - “Profit must be our servant, rather than our master” - that was both smart and ballsy. I especially loved her words that rang true in my mind as this class continued on: profit, without purpose, is dangerous. Television must serve the community.
That’s why the New Yorker’s profile on Elisabeth’s life and business, aptly titled “The Heiress,” is a great read. Written by Ken Auletta (who alludes to Elisabeth’s censorship in her interviews almost as if he himself was carefully tended to), the profile conveys a careful Murdoch, stubbornly ambitious by nature and independent by choice. But still stunningly intelligent in her delicate balancing act and foresight at the next moves for media in the 21st century. Incredibly interesting subject matter.
The Illusion of Separation
“A human being is a part of the whole called by us ‘the universe,’ a part limited in time and space,” wrote Einstein in 1950. “He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings, as something separate from the rest—a kind of optical illusion of consciousness.” It’s a brilliant and fascinating perspective, and science tells us that it’s true. Our eyes inform us that there is a definite boundary between us and the world around us, and so we perceive ourselves as entities separate to the wider universe—as individuals just making our home in this vast place. But when we take a step back, we can see that we’re molecular machines built from a specific arrangements of atoms—atoms that existed before we were born and will continue to exist after we die. They were recycled from the dust of dead stars, and we’re only their temporary custodians. Fundamentally, each of us is just a tiny individual expression of an enormous singular entity—so we are the universe perceiving and studying itself. The idea that the individual and the universe are inseparable is a humbling, counter-intuitive and ultimately awe-inspiring idea—there’s a mad kind of beauty in knowing that we do not live in the universe, but rather we are the universe. As Feynman wrote: “I…a universe of atoms…an atom in the universe.”
I’m imagining my own space fiction TV network while listening to SBTRKT’s Boiler Room set. Finals, sorry to break it to you, but I win. Now if I could only stop jamming out enough to finish this paper.
The neighb and dear friend Miguel UNVEILED A GAME the other day. The most innovative thing I did this week? Put a plastic bag over my bikeseat to keep my butt dry.
Thralled is a beauty of a game. In 1700s Brazil, you play as Isuara, an escaped slave searching for her lost son while alluding her captors. It’s lovely on the eyes and riveting to boot. Take a gander before it comes out via iOS.
Fell asleep to ?uestlove spinning some J Dilla last night and twas heavenly (much love, Potholes in my Blog). Gotta cherish it since sleep’s gonna be a foreign concept this week.
