I’m feeling s-l-o-w…

I’ve been tooling around the internet for a few hours now and stumbled acrost a few blog entries that have got me thinking about the “slow movement,” about sustainability and the future, and about my relationships with body, space, and time. I don’t have time* to write at the moment, but before the mood leaves me I thought I’d lead you to these web pages to see whether you might be inspired, too…

A snatch of old song. – from Paul at The Dark Mountain Project. (I’m recently in love with TDMP.)

Is adaptability more important than art in architecture?

Technology sabbaths and other strategies for the digitized world. – from Michael Sacasas at The Frailest Thing, which I have just added to my blogroll.

Have a beautiful day, my friends.

(*: Only now, a day later, does the great irony of that statement occur to me…)

About Johnny Rapture
Living in Chicago as a graduate student studying the history of religions and theology.

One Response to I’m feeling s-l-o-w…

  1. aaron says:

    “Anyhow, the people of the Valley had no objection to long names. They liked them. Perhaps they enjoyed the fact that they had plenty of time to say them. They were not ashamed of having time. They lacked drive, that great urge to get done which powers us, sending us forward, ever forward ever faster, reducing San Francisco of the slow settlers to Frisco and Chicago of the even slower natives to Chi and the town of the mission of our lady of the angels becomes Los Angeles, but that takes too long so it becomes L.A., but jets go faster than we do so we use their language and call it LAX, because what we want is to move on quick, to go fast, get through, be done, done with everything. To get it over with, that’s what we want. But the people who lived in the Valley and gave interminable names to their houses were in no hurry.

    It is hard for us to conceive, harder to approve, of a serious adult person not in a hurry. Not being in a hurry is for infants, people over eighty, bums, and the Third World. Hurry is the essence of the city, the very soul. There is no civilisation without hurry, without keeping ahead. The hurry may lurk invisible, contradicted by the indolent pose of the lounger at the bar or the lazy gait of the stroller along the hotel walkway, but it is there, in the terrific engines of the TWA or BSA supersonic planes that brought her from Rio, him from Rome, here to NY, NY for the IGPSA conference on implementation of GEPS, and will rush them back tomorrow, hurrying across the world of cities where there is no tense left but the present tense, every second and tenth of a second and millisecond and nanosecond clocked, the readout moving always a little faster, and the A rising. Mozart’s A was a hundred and forty cycles a second, so Mozart’s piano is out of tune with all our orchestras and singers. Our A is a hundred and sixty, as they all rise like sirens towards the final scream. There is nothing to be done. There is no way to heighten the pitch of the instruments of the Valley, no way to abbreviate their institutions and addresses and names to capital letters, no way to get them to move ahead.”

    - Ursula K. Le Guin, Always Coming Home

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