San Francisco for the Holiday Weekend
Posted by Bobby Solomon • September 3, 2010 • Life
Photo above by Andrea Cheng
I’m gonna be in San Francisco with Kyle for the holiday weekend and we couldn’t be more excited. I grew up in the Sacramento area so San Francisco is like a second home to me. I was wondering if there are any art shows, concerts or fun events going on? If you know of anything click the title and leave a comment.
(Disclaimer, I wrote this on my phone and now realized how drunk I sound. Whoops, sorry!)
Bobby
TeuxDeux
Posted by Alex Dent • August 11, 2010 • Life
I did not invent post-its. Post-its are such a simple, clean idea… but in the hands of users they become crooked rows of teeth sticking out from the pages of books or wreaths that surround a computer monitor to memorialize the death of your free time. I’ve seen many instances of the post-it note defeating it’s own purpose: organization. But I like to make lists, and ghosts of abandoned list systems haunt my e-mail, iPhone, and desktop. Enter the ghost buster: TeuxDeux.
Teux Deux is a beautifully simple browser and now iPhone app developed by Swissmiss and fictive kin. Easily the best-looking task management app, I’ve been using the app for the past week or so without relapsing back to writing things on the back of my hand. Does anybody else use it?
Alex
‘The Egg’ by Jack Sharp
Posted by Bobby Solomon • July 12, 2010 • Life
I’m not a religious person, and I wouldn’t say I’m particularly spiritual either, but the following story by Jack Sharp definitely got to me. It’s called The Egg and is basically about what happens to you after you die. It’s not exactly what I think would happen, but there’s quite a few things that were particularly meaningful to me personally. In fact, I perhaps got a bit emotional while reading it, for whatever reason. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
I also wanted to mention that I found this through You Might Find Yourself, an incredible Tumblr written by a guy from SF who works at Timbuk2. Definitely worth your time and bookmarking.
You were on your way home when you died.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off. Trust me.
And that’s when you met me.
“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”
“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point mincing words.
“There was a…a truck and it was skidding…”
“Yup.” I said.
“I… I died?”
“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies.” I said.
You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked.
“Is this the afterlife?”
“More or less,” I said.
Are you god?” You asked.
“Yup.” I replied. “I’m God.”
“My kids… my wife,” you said. “What about them? Will they be alright?”
“That what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Some vague authority figure. More of a grammar school teacher then the almighty.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way.
They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”
“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”
“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”
“Ah, so the Hindus were right.”
“All the religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.” You followed along as we strolled in the void.
“Where are we going?”
“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”
“So whats the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”
“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic then you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part or yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.
“You’ve been a human for the last 34 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of you immense consciousness. If we hung out here for longer, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point doing that between each life.”
“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”
“Oh lots. Lots and lots. And into lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 A.D.”
“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”
“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”
“Where you come from?” You pondered.
“Oh sure!” I explained. “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there’s others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there but you honestly wont understand.”
“Oh.” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, could I have interacted with myself at some point?”
“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own time span you don’t even know it’s happening.”
“So what’s the point of it all?”
“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”
“Well it’s a reasonable question.” you persisted.
I looked in your eyes. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”
“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”
“No. Just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature, and become a larger and greater intellect.”
“Just me? What about everyone else?”
“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you. And me.”
You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”
“All you. Different incarnations of you.”
“Wait. I’m everyone!?”
“Now your getting it.” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
“I’m every human who ever lived?”
“Or who will ever live, yes.”
“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”
“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too.” I added.
“I’m Hitler?” you said, appalled.
“And you’re the millions he killed.”
“I’m Jesus?”
“And you’re everyone who followed him.”
You fell silent.
“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “You were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”
“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”
“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”
“Whoa.” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”
“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”
“So the whole universe,” you said. “It’s just…”
“An egg of sorts.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”
And I sent you on your way.
Bobby
Caught in the Oil Spill
Posted by Bobby Solomon • June 4, 2010 • Illustration & Life & Photography & Politics
The photos above are both cruel and painful to look at, and that’s exactly why I’m posting them. It’s been 46 days since the drilling rig off the coast of Louisiana had an explosion causing crude oil to spew into the Gulf of Mexico. These photos were taken by AP Photographer Charlie Riedel and I think they sum up what’s happening quite well, showing that there are living things dying because of this catastrophe. I think it’s hard to really realize what’s happening since it’s not on land, and we can’t see exactly what this giant blot on a satellite map really means.
It sickens me that the our government hasn’t done more to make these assholes pay for what they’ve done. I don’t think there’s even a way to calculate the damage that has been done and the potential long term problems. I hope whenever this mess is over that BP is held fully accountable for not taking the proper precautions and that our government makes sure that this never happens again.
I also wanted to point out that designer/educator Frank Chimero has updated the Lousiana image from his States Project to reflect the current state of the state. Originally there was gum on the bottom of the shoe, making the statement about how difficult it was to get out of Louisiana after Hurricane Katrina hit. But it’s amazing how well this works when you simply change the pink of bubblegum to the black of crude.
Bobby
The BP Oil Spill in the Gulf of Mexico
Posted by Bobby Solomon • May 2, 2010 • Life
Reading the news about the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico is something that’s been bumming me out lately, so I felt like touching on it a bit. As I sat down to write about it I thought I’d check out Huffington Post and as of writing this the current headline reads, FISHING BANNED FROM LOUISIANA TO FLORIDA. That’s how huge and uncontrollable this situation is.
Honestly I feel worst for the people of the region, and then of course the wildlife we’re totally fucking over. I just feel so angry at BP and the politicians that made this mess possible. I guess in the larger scale of things we should be mad at ourselves at our dependence on oil, but I’d say that it’s primarily BP and politicians. If they had only put in better backups to prevent something like this occurring, well, I wouldn’t be writing this and things would be peachy keen.
The photos above are from The Boston Globe’s The Big Picture and can help you visualize just how horrible things are looking. President Obama says that BP will be footing the entire bill for the cleanup operation, but I’d still suggest boycotting any BP related locations around the world.
Bobby
I left my wallet AND my keys at home this morning. I guess I'm officially crazy or old (or both).
