Interesting article in the New York Times about hope and how it affects us:

When Barack Obama describes how he came to write his keynote speech to the 2004 Democratic National Convention, the speech that instantly shot him to fame and laid the basis for his presidential campaign and indeed his presidency, he recalls a phrase that his pastor, the Rev. Jeremiah A. Wright Jr., used in a sermon: the audacity of hope. Obama says that this audacity is what “was the best of the American spirit,” namely “the audacity to believe despite all the evidence to the contrary.”

It is precisely this kind of hope that I think we should try to give up. It is not audacious, but mendacious. As the wise Napoleon said, “a leader is a dealer in hope” who governs by insisting on a bright outlook despite all evidence to the contrary. But what if we looked at matters differently? What if we expected more from political life than a four-yearly trade-in of our moral intelligence to one or other of the various hope dealers that appear on the political market to sell us some shiny new vehicle of salvation?

chrstn
He knew why he wanted to kiss her. Because she was beautiful. And before that, because she was kind. And before that, because she was smart and funny. Because she was exactly the right kind of smart and funny. Because he could imagine taking a long trip with her without ever getting bored. Because whenever he saw something new and interesting, or new and ridiculous, he always wondered what she’d have to say about it — how many stars she’d give it and why.

Rainbow Rowell, Attachments (via)

That last sentence.

Recently, my weekdays have been getting harder. A large part of that is due to the fact that the job I once loved has now become the opposite due to a variety of reasons — there are other reasons, too, but work is the obvious and most present one — and I have trouble dealing with the latent antagonism in the office environment.

Tonight, I realized that I needed to clear my head, so I took a stroll down beside the Don River and let myself get lost for a few minutes. There was a highway nearby, and the sounds of cars driving by were loud, but they didn’t mask all the other sounds that come from the urban woodland.

There was a serenity in the cacophony of sounds, the shadows of trees.

Recently, my weekdays have been getting harder. A large part of that is due to the fact that the job I once loved has now become the opposite due to a variety of reasons — there are other reasons, too, but work is the obvious and most present one — and I have trouble dealing with the latent antagonism in the office environment.

Tonight, I realized that I needed to clear my head, so I took a stroll down beside the Don River and let myself get lost for a few minutes. There was a highway nearby, and the sounds of cars driving by were loud, but they didn’t mask all the other sounds that come from the urban woodland.

There was a serenity in the cacophony of sounds, the shadows of trees.

Did you know that Winnipeg was the Slurpee Capital of the World? That’s just one of the things I learned reading this oddly-fascinating history of the invention of the Slurpee:


  Despite being one of the coldest cities in the Northern Hemisphere, Winnipeg, Manitoba (Canada) has been crowned “Slurpee Capital of the World” fourteen years running. During an average month in the city, 188,833 Slurpees are sold (compared to 179,700 per month elsewhere in Canada). Last year, the city narrowly edged out Calgary and Detroit, and was bestowed the first-ever “Slurpee Capital Trophy Cup” for its effort.


If you’ve ever drank a Slurpee (and let’s face it, who hasn’t?) or are just interested in the whole 7-Eleven Slurpee phenomenon, this article is short and worth the read.

Did you know that Winnipeg was the Slurpee Capital of the World? That’s just one of the things I learned reading this oddly-fascinating history of the invention of the Slurpee:

Despite being one of the coldest cities in the Northern Hemisphere, Winnipeg, Manitoba (Canada) has been crowned “Slurpee Capital of the World” fourteen years running. During an average month in the city, 188,833 Slurpees are sold (compared to 179,700 per month elsewhere in Canada). Last year, the city narrowly edged out Calgary and Detroit, and was bestowed the first-ever “Slurpee Capital Trophy Cup” for its effort.

If you’ve ever drank a Slurpee (and let’s face it, who hasn’t?) or are just interested in the whole 7-Eleven Slurpee phenomenon, this article is short and worth the read.