The Center is at the Center of the Totality

“The Cental Point About Which the World Spins”

“This is why classical thought concerning structure could say that the center is, paradoxically, within the structure and outside it. The center is at the center of the totality, and yet, since the center does not belong to the totality (is not part of the totality), the totality has its center elsewhere. The center is not the center.”
Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves

Reblogged with many thanks to http://puppybra.tumblr.com

Red Jock Strap

Photographer Unknown, (Red Jock Strap)

The word  ‘jockstrap’ has purportedly been in use since 1897, a likely contraction of ‘jockey strap’, the garment was first designed for bicycle riders, or ‘bike jockeys’. The Bike Jockey Strap was the first jockstrap manufactured in America in 1874.
‘Jockey’ is the diminutive form of the Scottish nickname ‘Jock’ (for John) as ‘Jackie’ is for the English nickname ‘Jack’. The nicknames Jack and Jackie (Jock and Jockey) have been used generically for ‘man, fellow, boy, and common man’.
The most recent slang term “jock’, meaning an athlete, is traced to 1959 and is itself derived from the word “jockstrap”.

Headphones

Photographer Unknown, (Headphones and the Man)

For men and women are not only themselves; they are also the region in which they are born, the city apartment or farm in which they learnt to walk, the games they played as children, the old wives tales they overheard, the food they ate, the schools they attended, the sports they followed, the poets they read, and the God they believed in. It is all these things that have made them what they are, and these are the things that you can’t come to know by hearsay…

W. Somerset Maugham, The Razor’s Edge

Neil Gaiman: “. . .And They Watched Him”

Photographer Unknown, (Black Straps and Birds Flying)

“It would have been hard for Fat Charlie to say exactly when the accumulation of birds on the wire mesh moved from interesting to terrifying. It was somewhere in the first hundred or so, anyway. And it was in the way they didn’t coo, or caw, or trill, or song. They simply landed on the wire, and they watched him.”

–Neil Gaiman, Anansi Boys

Cormac McCarthy: “Whose Brightness Had Set Back the Stars in Their Sockets”

Photographer Unknown, (The Heat of the Desert)

“It was a lone tree burning on the desert. A heraldic tree that the passing storm had left afire. The solitary pilgrim drawn up before it had traveled far to be here and he knelt in the hot sand and held his numbed hands out while all about in that circle attended companies of lesser auxiliaries routed forth into the inordinate day, small owls that crouched silently and stood from foot to foot and tarantulas and solpugas and vinegarroons and the vicious mygale spiders and beaded lizards with mouths black as a chowdog’s, deadly to man, and the little desert basilisks that jet blood from their eyes and the small sandvipers like seemly gods, silent and the same, in Jeda, in Babylon. A constellation of ignited eyes that edged the ring of light all bound in a precarious truce before this torch whose brightness had set back the stars in their sockets.”
Cormac McCarthy, Blood Meridian, or the Evening Redness in the West