Two Buttons Quotes, Quoted from Memory

"Publishing is no longer an arduous process, it has become a button." — Some article on media.

"We even had our own self-destruct buttons implanted into our minds. And the only one who could push this button was dead now." — Jeff Vandermeer. Annihilation. 2014.


"Das erste Geburtstagskind des Jahres 2014 heißt Arno Schmidt: Am 18. Januar wäre der Schriftsteller 100 Jahre alt geworden. Die meisten kennen den Bargfelder Eremiten nur vom Hörensagen, der sich zeitlebens ohne Krankenversicherung in die platte niedersächsische Einöde bei Celle zurückzog, um bei Tiefdruck-Wetterlagen, die seinem kranken Herzen wohl taten, den Rest der Welt mit misanthropischen Injurien abzustrafen und mit selbstzerstörerischem Fleiß immer dickere Bücher zu schreiben, bis er 1979 an der Schreibmaschine zusammenbrach und wenig später verstarb."
— Jan Süselbeck. “Chance für einen unbekannten Autor.” 2014.

"Das erste Geburtstagskind des Jahres 2014 heißt Arno Schmidt: Am 18. Januar wäre der Schriftsteller 100 Jahre alt geworden. Die meisten kennen den Bargfelder Eremiten nur vom Hörensagen, der sich zeitlebens ohne Krankenversicherung in die platte niedersächsische Einöde bei Celle zurückzog, um bei Tiefdruck-Wetterlagen, die seinem kranken Herzen wohl taten, den Rest der Welt mit misanthropischen Injurien abzustrafen und mit selbstzerstörerischem Fleiß immer dickere Bücher zu schreiben, bis er 1979 an der Schreibmaschine zusammenbrach und wenig später verstarb."

— Jan Süselbeck. “Chance für einen unbekannten Autor.” 2014.


— Storyboard P x Jay-Z


Lightning, blood rain, fog, and mutant monkeys.


cepeжa mecthЬiй - Bitch

cepeжa mecthЬiй - Bitch


— C215

— C215




Please see him, Jeffrey. He’s a good man. And thorough. Elit blandit fringilla a ut turpis praesent felis. Mr. Lebowski asked me to repeat that: Her life is in your hands. Ligula, malesuada suscipit malesuada non, ultrices non urna. Saturday is shabbos. Jewish day of rest. Means I don’t work, I don’t drive a car, I don’t fucking ride in a car, I don’t handle money, I don’t turn on the oven, and I sure as shit don’t fucking roll! Sed orci ipsum, placerat.

That wasn’t her toe. Id condimentum rutrum, rhoncus ac lorem aliquam placerat posuere neque, at dignissim magna. Shut the fuck up, Donny. Ullamcorper in aliquam sagittis massa ac tortor ultrices faucibus curabitur eu. Hardly Dude, a new ‘vette? The kid’s still got, oh, 96 to 97 thousand, depending on the options. Mi sapien, ut ultricies ipsum morbi. Mind if I smoke a jay? Eget risus nulla nullam vel nisi enim, vel auctor ante morbi id urna vel.

Ja, your viggly penis, Lebowski. Felis lacinia placerat vestibulum turpis nulla, viverra nec volutpat ac, ornare. Jesus, man, can you change the station? Id lectus cras pharetra faucibus tristique. The Knutsens. It’s a wandering daughter job. Bunny Lebowski, man. Her real name is Fawn Knutsen. Her parents want her back. Nullam non accumsan justo nulla facilisi integer. Ja, und maybe vee stamp on it und skvush it, Lebowski! Interdum elementum nulla, nec eleifend nisl euismod ac maecenas vitae.

Fuck it, Dude. Let’s go bowling. Eros velit, eu suscipit erat integer purus lacus, pretium vel venenatis eu, volutpat. This Chinaman who peed on my rug, I can’t go give him a bill so what the fuck are you talking about? Non erat donec a metus ac eros dictum aliquet nulla consectetur egestas placerat maecenas. Chinaman is not the preferred nomenclature. Asian-American. Please. Pulvinar nisl et nisl.

Vee don’t care. Vee still vant zat money or vee fuck you up. Rhoncus at volutpat felis blandit in libero turpis, laoreet et molestie sed, volutpat. No, the, uh, police chief of Malibu. A real reactionary. Et erat nulla ut orci quis neque consectetur tincidunt aliquam erat. Sir, this is a mortuary, not a rental house. Volutpat donec aliquam orci eget mi lobortis sed tincidunt diam mattis fusce.


And while we’re on the subject, I’d like to say a few words about escapism. I hear the term bandied about as if it’s a bad thing. As if “escapist” fiction is a cheap opiate used by the muddled and the foolish and the deluded, and the only fiction that is worthy, for adults or for children, is mimetic fiction, mirroring the worst of the world the reader finds herself in.

If you were trapped in an impossible situation, in an unpleasant place, with people who meant you ill, and someone offered you a temporary escape, why wouldn’t you take it? And escapist fiction is just that: fiction that opens a door, shows the sunlight outside, gives you a place to go where you are in control, are with people you want to be with(and books are real places, make no mistake about that); and more importantly, during your escape, books can also give you knowledge about the world and your predicament, give you weapons, give you armour: real things you can take back into your prison. Skills and knowledge and tools you can use to escape for real.

As JRR Tolkien reminded us, the only people who inveigh against escape are jailers.

— Neil Gaiman

— Vaughn Bode