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Digging the trailer for Wes Anderson’s “Grand Budapest Hotel”, especially #TildaSwinton. #grandbudapesthotel
Aaliyah, buddy holly, richie valens floating down in parachutes and biggie, 2pac, and left eye being guarded by a force field
MY WHOLE LIFE RN
Discovering News on Instagram
Interested to know more about how news organizations can use video? Check out some of our tips on how you can get the most out of Instagram video.
Since launching video on Instagram back in June, we’ve seen the many creative ways Instagrammers have used video to express themselves. From a hand-drawn time-lapse artist to a sci-fi TV show series, this community continues to astound us.
Lately we’ve seen media broadcasters—both traditional and non-traditional—experimenting with video to share news and information right here on Instagram.
CNN (@CNN) recently launched a 15-second debates micro-site as part of its German elections coverage. The project asks German political parties to answer reporter questions in 15-seconds or less to be shared on Instagram.
We’re always excited to see new ways Instagrammers are using video and we’re excited to see what comes next.
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Reading Livejournal entries from 2005 on the roof of a Nolita apartment, staring at the Manhattan Bridge and wondering if the lie I told the front page of the Wall Street Journal will follow me to the grave.
I danced on the studio floor of a girl’s apartment like it was the night I puked blood in the bathroom of John Jay, freshman dorm, neon in the center of the first decade of a millennium that may not end. There’s a picture of me holding a Heineken keg can with eyes squinted shut wearing the only Abercrombie shirt I ever loved, hoping that the city would live up to dreams. When I dance with you it still feels like it can, and we talk about dying like writers. The rosé in our glasses bounces eagerly towards autumn as the raindrops fall, dampening our cigarettes.
Today was the first day back in Soho for NowThis News. Our walls are painted rainbow. Our hardwood floor suggesting runways spanning the distance Spring Street claims between Broadway and Crosby. There’s so many futures wrapped up in our endeavor which I feel as much to be a ship out on a landless sea as I do a soulless clump of code. May there be more than one survivor held afloat, and with God, not by an empty coffin.
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ok so this one is about my roommate and good friend Kromo. we’ve lived together for three years now, in Rome, Morningside Heights, and in TriBeCa. we’ve built space together.
sometimes Kromo is a monster and sometimes he is an angel. he is not always easy to live with, but when he’s good, he’s the best guy. I just wish he would feel happier about the way things are, and not wake up so gloomy. he’s a cynical dude, and cynicism is pretty much my kryptonite. still, i love him and i can’t wait to see what cool shit he does.
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Sitting on the dock at Walton Lake, which the house collectively mistook at first hearing for a delightful homage to the more famed Walden Pond, and it’s sunny before August snuffs out.
The home we found on the Internet is a dream - all den and orange, yellow and wood. There’s a painter’s roller serving as a toilet tissue holder, a ping-pong table in the living room, and no television.
We’re celebrating Steven’s birthday and I didn’t know most of the house before Friday but it’s been wonderful. I’m in the middle of an ascetic month and am denying myself alcohol and sugar and
mac & cheese but today’s the last day for that. As I sit on this lake I think of denying everything and of Bartleby the Scrivener and how a man can just disappear by negation. There are no swans in the lake and no questions for their shapes to pose to me neither. Seven feet below the clear green water I look for possibilities to stand on but find none, so I keep on jumping around, faking hand-stands and reenacting bullet-time stunts.
5 hours later and I’m back in my apartment in Manhattan, ordering vegetable sushi from Seamless and wondering if I should bike down to Martin’s place afterwards. He lives at the southernmost point of the island and I seize almost every opportunity to fly there like a raptor and perch. The wind is wilder and the streets empty but the whole city is a canyon down there, and history its river, washing away lives and businesses, my life one day too.
Tomorrow we begin work again in SoHo after a rocky sojourn into Midtown and I can’t wait to feel a bit more at home in the place I spend most of my hours.
First stop at daylight is for coconut doughnut.
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Isn’t it wonderful the way the summer wind licks me like an old cat as i lean on a street sign on 8th avenue and think about how lovely it is to see you - to feel your scratchsoft beard against me and - to think of you working away so happily and so hard just blocks from me.
The sun sets shorter each night in mid July but the days are still so stretched and peachy. I will have to go to the beach again. I will have to swim or laugh at you laughing at me teaching me to surf in salty water off of Rockaway that moves as much as an old fat dog in August.
The wind moves flags and I wish the policeman who gave me a ticket this morning while I rode a bike the best. I owe him a leaner midsummer and you’re happier if I am safe.
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