“I have a feeling that drinking is a form of suicide where you’re allowed to return to life and begin all over the next day. It’s like killing yourself, and then you’re reborn. I guess I’ve lived about ten or fifteen thousand lives by now.”—Bukowski (via absurdreasoning)
The disappearance of mid-level jobs during the Great Recession, along with overall high unemployment, have made it hard for recent college graduates to find good jobs upon leaving school. More than 50 percent of college graduates under age 25 are either jobless or underemployed, according to an analysis from Drexel University and the Economic Policy Institute:
While there’s strong demand in science, education and health fields, arts and humanities flounder. Median wages for those with bachelor’s degrees are down from 2000, hit by technological changes that are eliminating midlevel jobs such as bank tellers. Most future job openings are projected to be in lower-skilled positions such as home health aides, who can provide personalized attention as the U.S. population ages.
Taking underemployment into consideration, the job prospects for bachelor’s degree holders fell last year to the lowest level in more than a decade.
Recent graduates are struggling to find mid- and high-level jobs upon graduating and are increasingly turning to jobs in restaurants and retail. As a result, median wages have dropped.
The high jobless and underemployment rate could have long-term consequences for the American economy. Total student loan debt surpassed $1 trillion this year, and the rate of delinquency on those loans is already disturbingly high. Though college graduates earn significantly more than workers with only a high school diploma, the inability of college graduates to find adequate employment could drive those delinquencies even higher. Worse yet, it could plague more workers with life-long debt, preventing them from forming new households or purchasing more consumer goods.
upon awakening discovered the winter, and not the spring had risen from the dead. considered the journey to incense and prayer bells and decided instead to wrap myself in wool blankets for another twenty-five minutes.
pinned dirty hair off my face, dusted with powder not the colour of my snow skin hummed and haw’d between cardigan and blazer. blazer.
traipsed past the presbyterian, in the opposite direction of the anglican and catholic, scuffing slush through the graveyard path on my way to the united church, home of a long ago little girl with blond curls singing jesuschristhasrisntooodayyyy…
she is not there anymore.
instead, i sit pressed up against the divide, the inside edge of an empty pew, expectant, waiting for…something. there is no procession, no ceremony, the minister intones that all are welcome, please don’t feel the need to hush your children, their voices are loved
but sadly what I craved was a pattern lips moving in unison a time to bend your knee, to turn, to bow the occupation of that particular mental space, the embodiment of wonder
instead I let my voice float choking tears knew that I would never go back longing for the structure or the family that was missing.
“There ought to be a man with a hammer behind the door of every happy man, to remind him by his constant knocks that there are unhappy people, and that happy as he himself may be, life will sooner or later show him its claws, catastrophe will overtake him—sickness, poverty, loss—and nobody will see it, just as he now neither sees nor hears the misfortunes of others. But there is no man with a hammer, the happy man goes on living and the petty vicissitudes of life touch him lightly, like the wind in an aspen-tree, and all is well.”—Anton Chekhov, Gooseberries (via doubtlr)
“The science of climate change is pretty clear at this point: our current path leads to catastrophe. There’s plenty of uncertainty on the details, particularly in how fast and how much carbon reductions could affect the outcome. But that basic fact — status quo means disaster — is not in serious dispute. What if it were an asteroid heading toward earth? What if it were a foreign power mustering an army to march on our shores? How would the media treat it then? Answer that question and you’ve answered how it would look to take climate seriously. Just to take a small example: the failure on both the international level and the U.S. level to muster any serious climate policy is inevitably described by mainstream reporters as “a blow to environmentalists,” as though it’s some boutique policy meant to benefit a special interest group. If reporters took climate change seriously, they would say, “the failure to secure serious climate policy makes widespread suffering and destabilization in the latter half of this century far more likely.” I call this the “and thus we’re f*cked” principle.”—What it means for media to take climate seriously (via azspot)