nedhepburn:

They’re closing down the Century Dome Theaters in San Jose, California today. I grew up going to these theaters. 
These places were the best places to watch a movie. I used to love going there; I camped out before movies there; I kissed high school girlfriends there; I hung out in the parking lots there.
I have a lot of formative memories from 1994 through to 2004 at those theaters, those big giant domes. There are some great pictures here from the theater’s heyday. Look at the one that shows the theaters playin’ Clockwork Orange with The Godfather and The French Connection. Can you imagine spending a San Jose day there watching all those great movies in those great theaters? 
They’re closing down the theaters so they can raze the buildings, which have been there since 1964, so that they can turn the land into a mall. The thing is, the movie theaters currently occupy a space between two malls: Valley Fair Mall (where I used to work as a teenager at Christmas), and Santana Row, a more upscale mall. 
Basically, they are demolishing Californian history to build another mall. This means that there will be three malls right next to eachother. Just more places to stick stores. No culture. 
I often worry about how someone, somewhere thinks that having three malls side by side is a good idea. I worry about money’s influence. This is indicative, on a personal level for me, of everything wrong with the culture currently ruining Silicon Valley. 

And I thought this kind of shit only happens in Indonesia

nedhepburn:

They’re closing down the Century Dome Theaters in San Jose, California today. I grew up going to these theaters. 

These places were the best places to watch a movie. I used to love going there; I camped out before movies there; I kissed high school girlfriends there; I hung out in the parking lots there.

I have a lot of formative memories from 1994 through to 2004 at those theaters, those big giant domes. There are some great pictures here from the theater’s heyday. Look at the one that shows the theaters playin’ Clockwork Orange with The Godfather and The French Connection. Can you imagine spending a San Jose day there watching all those great movies in those great theaters? 

They’re closing down the theaters so they can raze the buildings, which have been there since 1964, so that they can turn the land into a mall. The thing is, the movie theaters currently occupy a space between two malls: Valley Fair Mall (where I used to work as a teenager at Christmas), and Santana Row, a more upscale mall. 

Basically, they are demolishing Californian history to build another mall. This means that there will be three malls right next to eachother. Just more places to stick stores. No culture. 

I often worry about how someone, somewhere thinks that having three malls side by side is a good idea. I worry about money’s influence. This is indicative, on a personal level for me, of everything wrong with the culture currently ruining Silicon Valley. 

And I thought this kind of shit only happens in Indonesia

yaoloh:

“After learning my flight was detained 4 hours, I heard the announcement: If anyone in the vicinity of gate 4-A understands any Arabic, Please come to the gate immediately. Well—one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own gate. I went there. An older woman in full traditional Palestinian dress, Just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly. Help, said the flight service person. Talk to her. What is her Problem? we told her the flight was going to be four hours late and she Did this. I put my arm around her and spoke to her haltingly. Shu dow-a, shu- biduck habibti, stani stani schway, min fadlick, Sho bit se-wee? The minute she heard any words she knew—however poorly used— She stopped crying. She thought our flight had been canceled entirely. She needed to be in El Paso for some major medical treatment the Following day. I said no, no, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just late, Who is picking you up? Let’s call him and tell him. We called her son and I spoke with him in English. I told him I would stay with his mother till we got on the plane and Would ride next to her—Southwest. She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it. Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and Found out of course they had ten shared friends. Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian Poets I know and let them chat with her. This all took up about 2 hours. She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life. Answering Questions. She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies—little powdered Sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts—out of her bag— And was offering them to all the women at the gate. To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a Sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the traveler from California, The lovely woman from Laredo—we were all covered with the same Powdered sugar. And smiling. There are no better cookies. And then the airline broke out the free beverages from huge coolers— Non-alcoholic—and the two little girls for our flight, one African American, one Mexican American—ran around serving us all apple juice And lemonade and they were covered with powdered sugar too. And I noticed my new best friend—by now we were holding hands— Had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing, With green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always Carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere. And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought, This is the world I want to live in. The shared world. Not a single person in this gate—once the crying of confusion stopped —has seemed apprehensive about any other person. They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women too. This can still happen anywhere. Not everything is lost.”

Naomi Shihab Nye (b. 1952), “Wandering Around an Albuquerque Airport Terminal.” I think this poem may be making the rounds, this week, but that’s as it should be.  (via oliviacirce)

When I lose hope in the world, I remember this poem.

(via bookoisseur)