ALlVE is OFFLINE… ALIVE is AWESOME:-)
Nostalgia being a Modern Being
Taking my dad to visit a local institution that has withstood the ravages of ferocious growth. Some things remain intact in my hometown…
It’s a different town. That’s all I can say when anyone asks me what I think of Sarasota today. When I grew up here, there were few buildings higher than two stories. It was affordable, or at least affordable enough that a family of four could come down and start over in a stilt house on a shell drive in a part of town so close to the water that retiring baby boomers are willing to shell out half their life savings to live there now. Going back is strange, particularly because I haven’t lived there for almost two decades. It’s not a bad thing or a good thing. It’s just different.
When I go home, I go back for family. My 95 year-old grandmother who has…
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Oldage :When your Brawns loosens and your Brains tigthens!
The world’s population is getting older. Across the globe, people are living longer thanks to advances in healthcare, nutrition and technology. This population shift brings with it incredible possibilities — but also a new set of challenges. So … How do we care for our elderly?
Writer and scholar Jared Diamond (TED Talk: How societies can grow old better) examines the vast differences in how societies across the globe view and treat their senior citizens. Some groups revere and respect their oldest members, while others see them as senile and incompetent, making them the butt of jokes. In some societies, children care for their parents at home; in others, children put their parents in homes where others care for them. Some cultures see their elderly as a burden and resource drain and opt for more violent approaches to senior care. Here’s a look at how people across the globe treat their old…
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A treat to our Mind and Imagination
Stephen Petranek makes the case that humans will live on Mars in the not-too-distant future. He explains how and when this might happen — and what risks those who head there first might face.
Nearly a decade of anticipation has come down to this moment: the spacecraft inches to the surface as the blast effect of braking rockets kicks up red dust. An Earth-bound audience waits eagerly as an announcer reminds them of a press conference that took place years earlier—a meeting that shocked the world and embarrassed NASA, which was still at least two years from testing its Mars spacecraft with humans aboard. On that day, the company behind this private effort to reach Mars revealed that it was about to build a series of huge rockets to transport people to Mars, and that within a decade it would launch one or two of them to make the first manned landing…
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Something that just Made My Day
When my father’s father died a year ago, even though he was my first grandparent to pass, I wasn’t emotional. His was a slow slipping: first his professorial mind decayed, jumbling his memories and mixing the files in which he stored Shakespeare and Tennyson, then his body, which he refused to care for because he was too proud to admit he needed help. In his final years, I think we were all hoping he would let go soon, and find peace.
Everyone expected me to have a close relationship with him. He was an English professor, and I was the only grandchild who inherited his literary gene. But we were on different sides of the world, growing old and older on opposing paths: when he tried to engage me in discussions on Dickens and The Great Writers, I was still reading fantasy chapter books from the kids section; when I…
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If you’re lucky, you open a book and fall in love. When you read, it’s not just inked symbols on paper illuminated by light waves bouncing through your eyes into your brain, but ideas and images that pour from a page into an open wound in your heart. And you want to keep drinking and drinking it in, but you have to stop and turn away. Because your heart filled up too fast and you got scared. The book has to end. And drinking it means ending it, and stopping means never knowing. What if you hate it when it’s over and you don’t remember the passion in the middle or the gentleness in the beginning? When it ends, what do you do?
What the fuck is this reading witchcraft and why does it feel like this? Dammit, McCarthy and Faulkner and Lahiri and Dickens and all you magical assholes.
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A MUST READ…
If I have to carefully line my eyes for you,
Colour my hair, paint my face and
Perfume my skin,
If I have to wear my very best,
With gold at throat and wrist just for you to see,
If my sagging flesh,
The creases at my neck and crow’s feet about my eyes, I must cunningly disguise,
Then what I have with you is many things, but it is not love.