#Neil-Strauss

[solxs]

Hay que normalizar el no forzar las conexiones. Si alguien no ve el valor de tenerte a su lado, no intentes convencerlo de lo mismo.

Autor: Neil Strauss.

[simplyettad]

Today's Inspiration

Today’s Inspiration

[sophaeros]

Casablancas is afflicted by something called the press. Every so often, he imagines his words blown up in big type in magazines and tries to take them back. After putting down Neil Young's voice, he backpedals: "Not that I hate Neil Young or anything." I ask him if he is always like this. "You know how bands have to decide what to wear onstage?" he says. "We just decided that we would wear what we wanted to wear onstage all the time, so we wouldn't have to think about it. So that's what I do when I speak now. No matter who I'm talking to, I always talk like I'm doing an interview."

— Julian Casablancas in conversation with Neil Strauss for Rolling Stone, 2003 (x)

[denimbex1986]

'Christopher Nolan has a knack for wrangling impressive ensemble casts for his films, but he really outdid himself with his 3-hour historical epic Oppenheimer. Even if the World War II biopic didn’t include the frequent Nolan collaborator Michael Caine, the stacked ensemble is filled with a terrific ensemble of veteran Hollywood stars, Academy Award-winning performers, underrated character actors, relative unknowns, and a few former box office titans that have seemingly disappeared over the last decade or so. It wasn’t that long ago that Josh Hartnett was the marquee lead of films like Lucky Number Slevin and Black Hawk Down, but his star power has seemingly evaporated, as some actors can only maintain the same level of success for so long. However, Hartnett has always been a more interesting and complicated actor than the roles that he was given at the beginning of his career. Hartnett isn’t just in the middle of a major comeback; he basically steals Oppenheimer with one of the most nuanced supporting performances.

Why Is 'Oppenheimer's Ernest Lawrence So Important?

Oppenheimer is told in non-chronological order, in what has become a hallmark of nearly all of Nolan’s films. While Hartnett doesn’t play a significant role in the black-and-white sections that show the confirmation hearings for Lewis Strauss (Robert Downey Jr.), he is instrumental within the main storyline focused on J. Robert Oppenheimer’s (Cillian Murphy) studies at the University of California in Berkeley, where he first conceived of much of the technology that ended up becoming critical within the Manhattan Project. The sequences in Berkeley aren’t just where Oppenheimer unlocks part of his genius, but also where he falls in love with his second wife Kitty (Emily Blunt), and makes a community of friends for the first time. It is during this period that he works hand-in-hand with Hartnett’s depiction of Ernest Lawrence; having an outsider’s perspective on Oppenheimer’s work was necessary for this sequence to function.

Ernest Lawrence was an incredibly influential figure in Oppenheimer’s life. While he’s not someone that Oppenheimer often looks up to and idolizes like Neils Bohr (Kenneth Branagh) or Albert Einstein (Tom Conti), Lawrence represents the sort of man that Oppenheimer could never really become. Hartnett depicts Lawrence as a man of great importance, intelligence, and class that also has a relatively normal social life and shows an ability to adjust to the stresses within his life. Lawrence encourages Oppenheimer to find a balance within his work, but it becomes obvious that it’s not possible for someone with his capacity for genius. It creates an odd tension between them; Lawrence feels both resentful and sympathetic for his friend. Oppenheimer’s inability to simply “turn off” his brain and focus on something other than his work may end up making him more historically important than Lawrence, but it negates any sense of accomplishment or happiness he may feel.

Josh Hartnett does some really outstanding subtle work with his performance, as there’s an interesting dichotomy to Lawrence’s feelings about Oppenheimer. He’s not resentful, as he and Oppenheimer are able to get along and share much in common due to their shared experience in nuclear research. Lawrence is someone who can communicate with Oppenheimer on an intellectual level about the groundbreaking studies that are being done, but he’s not capable of reaching the same next-level conclusions. Lawrence is well-educated and knows what he’s talking about, but also acknowledges that it’s not his name that the world will remember. It was almost a bit of reflective acting on Hartnett’s part as if he was acknowledging that he was no longer the same star who had led Pearl Harbor to its box-office success two decades prior.

Ernest Lawrence Is Important to the Politics of 'Oppenheimer'

Christopher Nolan isn’t necessarily known as a “political filmmaker,” but while his films aren’t necessarily as overt as the work of directors like Oliver Stone or Spike Lee, there are strong anti-war, anti-escalation themes in The Dark Knight, Dunkirk, and Tenet. Oppenheimer is definitely Nolan’s most overtly political work to date, and Lawrence is instrumental in unpacking the film’s complex understanding (and criticism) of the decisions that Oppenheimer made on behalf of his country during his lifetime. At first, Oppenheimer’s relationship with Jean Tatlock (Florence Pugh) is nothing more than a passionate romantic affair, but it's Lawrence who explains the danger that being involved with the socialist political movement at the time that they are in. Lawrence has his personal feelings about the rising Communist movement, but he worries that Oppenheimer’s mind could be distracted when he’s working on studies that could literally change the way that mankind observes the world.

The political differences between Lawrence and Oppenheimer are fascinating, and Hartnett does a great job of showing Lawrence’s conviction in his belief and handling the dense political dialogue. It’s fascinating that Lawrence’s political beliefs aren’t delved into that deeply other than his expressed desire to keep all discussions about the socialist movement out of the classroom. Lawrence tells Oppenheimer that he considered himself a patriot, but he also wants the University to be an institute of science, and not a hangout spot for a potentially dangerous movement to begin. He and Oppenheimer begin to grow further apart as a result of this, but they still share a mutual understanding of which events transcend their own personal beliefs. Both men react with the same surprise and fear when news of Adolf Hitler’s invasion of Poland breaks.

Josh Hartnett does a great job of showing Lawrence’s empathy for Oppenheimer. While he understands that a traditional celebration isn’t necessarily something that Oppenheimer would enjoy, there’s a friendliness between the two men that continues after General Leslie Groves (Matt Damon) whisks him away to work on the Manhattan Project. Lawrence refuses to report incriminating evidence on Oppenheimer during the government’s investigation, and the two are able to shake hands at the end of the film. That’s more than Oppenheimer can say about Edward Teller (Benny Safdie), whose pro-nuclear beliefs created too much of a divide between them.

Josh Hartnett is in the midst of a much-needed comeback, and it’s great to see that Oppenheimer gave him such a nuanced role to execute. While it may have taken a while for him to finally get the chance to work with Nolan, his performance is one that is essential to show what made Oppenheimer tick on both an intellectual and personal level.'

[inkwell-chronicles]

"People go through so much pain trying to avoid pain."

-Neil Strauss

[streammaxeurope]

You keep going for family.

Pedro Pascal, Bella Ramsey, Gabriel Luna, and Murray Bartlett joined showrunners Craig Mazin and Neil Druckmann and executive producer Carolyn Strauss for a The Last of Us panel at HBO Max’s FYC Event.

[sweetdreamsjeff]

[mafaldaknows]

Instagram: neil_strauss

[veryslowreader]

The Game by Neil Strauss

Fresh Meat: Series 2 Episode 2

[linusjf]

Neil Strauss: Premeditated resentments

“Unspoken expectations are premeditated resentments.” — Neil Strauss.

[chassewright]

Clear communication of expectations!

[colddeadhands]

The review tells you everything you need to know about the book

[gloriousprincesscreature]

The Passion of the Cruise

I love looking for old articles! This one is a 2004 article from Rolling Stone and encapsulates why I admire Tom Cruise so much.

It whitewashes so much of the true evil of Scientology but comes with awesome quotes, mostly from TC himself.

This is from near the end of the piece:

One reason why journalists often have trouble with Cruise is because an interview for him isn’t psychotherapy. This isn’t just because Scientologists are strong opponents of psychiatry, but because of one of his most admirable qualities: He is strong-willed, centered and resolute. Any thinking that must be done, any turmoil that must be resolved, any issue that must be handled is solved first and foremost in a dialogue between Tom Cruise and himself.

“I don’t really keep counsel with others,” he says. “I’m the kind of person who will think about something, and if I know it’s right I’m not going to ask anybody. I don’t go, ‘Boy, what do you think about this?’ I’ve made every decision for myself — in my career, in my life.”

In its entirety at the Internet Archive: https://archive.ph/ZCsR5

[preacherman316]

5 Hindrances to Spiritual Growth

“Let Go of Whatever Makes You Stop,” is the title of a neat little book by John Mason. The book identifies areas in life where we become our own worst enemy. How we sabotage our success. And get in our own way of moving forward. This problem, however, is deeper than how it affects us materially, financially or professionally. It’s a challenge spiritually. It’s an impediment to growth. Continue…

[pricegouge]

cw: fat femme reader. shitty tinder dates. alcohol mentioned but not consumed. that's it. written on my lunch break and unedited so mind the mess

divider by @/cafekitsune | taglist @pricegouged

You're on your second drink when you swear off dating apps altogether. 

Dylan - fine, normal, everyday, run-of-the-mill Dylan - had exposed himself fairly early as too fine and normal, and therefore boring, which wouldn't have been too big a problem if he hadn't also been leaning further and further into the asshole category with each passing minute.

The snide little comment about your weight would be enough to send you packing early under any normal circumstances, except you'd been an idiot who'd let him pick you up so you needed a ride home, and why pay for an Uber when you can be mean right back?

It takes you a moment to arrive at that conclusion, though, stopping mid sip of your water to arch your eyebrows at this pathetic little thing before you with enough force to have him backpedaling. You watch him flounder for a moment, considering your options, not listening at all as he tries to clarify that he's 'into it, though - big girls, that is'.

You roll your eyes away from him, pretend to watch the highlight reel of last night's match from where it plays on the outdated CRT in the corner. It's not even a good place for a date, really, a self-serve popcorn machine in the corner offering pre-fingered snacks and a low liquor shelf behind the bar suggesting you'd best be thirsty for something with no more than three ingredients. You're not exactly the snooty type, but you suddenly realize you should maybe learn to know your worth better because you cannot ever sit across the table from someone who's read The Game ever again. One more time might kill you, funeral expenses legally billable to Neil Strauss and everything. 

Except your new standards will have to be enacted in the morning because you suddenly refuse to spend a fucking dime on this terrible outing.

Dylan still looks slightly panicked when you turn back to him with a shy little affected smile and a demure batting of your eyelashes. You watch in real time as his expression shifts from pure panic at a gamble ventured and lost, to surprised delight when he thinks it's paying off. You let him keep thinking that, draw quiet and reserved the more dinner draws on though jokes on you there, because that just means you have to hear him talk more and it's a struggle to pretend you don't find the damn coasters more interesting than him at this point. 

(They're cardboard and growing waterlogged from condensation, the local brewery's logo becoming easily peelable. It's become your mission to get a clean pull by the end of his long winded ramble, though he's so invested in hearing himself talk that you surpass your goal twice, peeling both the front and back off the coaster and sticking the limp paper to your glass, pressing out air bubbles with your fingers like you're carefully applying proper labeling. He doesn't stop talking until your glass is labeled front and back, real professional.)

When he asks if you're ready to go you perk up like a dog hearing its favorite word. You wanna go for a ride? Hm? You ready to go home, girl? Your nod is bobble-headed, eager. You let him misread it because you're an asshole and because you did say in your profile that you weren't looking for hookups so really it's his own fault if he blue balls himself. 

The ride back is short, easy. You don't know if it's better or worse that he doesn't bother flirting with you here or test your expectations with a cheeky little hand on your thigh. Instead, his grip remains carefully at ten and two and you're grateful he's not touching you, really, but you know what he expects from you in a matter of mere moments, hours, whatever, and it pisses you off that he doesn't even bother warming you up to the idea by grabbing a feel of those 'big thighs' he's 'into.' So you let yourself stew, fuel for the fire, and you fiddle with his heat controls just because you can. 

If he was so dead set on ending this night all hot and wet, you could help him with that at least.

Sweat beads at Dylan's temple when he pulls into the intricate webbing of drives which make up your apartment complex. It's a nice enough place, one you can only afford with the help of one too many roommates. The steep rent is worth it though for nights like tonight, when apprehension begins to pool in your belly as you try to steel yourself for the small confrontation you're about to initiate. Dylan may have been a little weasel but he wasn't exactly contentious so you're not expecting anything too major to come of this, but it's reassuring to see so many people still out and about enjoying the cool fall evening. It's still fairly early, mothers only just heading back from the park with their double wide buggies taking up half the drive. They shoot Dylan ugly looks as he passes, just a hair too fast for their unofficial neighborhood watch. At least you know they'll be on your side if he really starts to act up.

Dylan does not need reminding which specific branches lead to your building, rolling to a stop next to your own car which you try not to look at with any familiarity. You may have already made the mistake of giving him your address, but every morsel of information he might glean about you now feels like a theft, and even what you had for breakfast is suddenly a dark secret you'd like to keep from him for no real reason. 

It's hard looking at Dylan now too, the shyness you'd been playing up before all of a sudden a very real obstacle as your eyes wander your building's facade, as if even you aren't certain which bay window is yours. Your lights are all off, you note with some annoyance, your roommates not home despite the fact they said they would be. 

'Up all night waiting for you,' Carren had winked, her big cheeky smile something you've never had cause to mistrust before. You gotta work on your naivete. 

Your eyes keep moving, resolved not to give away even your apartment number by being too obvious. They catch on the patio next door, however, when you spot your neighbor Kyle sitting on his Adirondack chair, smoking a cigarette as he watches this new car pointedly, doing nothing to hide his curiosity. 

If you had been smart you would've told Dylan to pick you up a few buildings down so he wouldn't even have the proper section, but the relief you feel at seeing your sweet, hot, extremely fit neighbor outside playing guard dog more than makes up for your mistake. So much so that your fingers don't falter when they find the handle, emergency release ready to be disengaged. You turn back to Dylan with a too-sweet smile and thank him for dinner again, already leaning out the door when he stutters something about having a good time.

"Yeah, me too," you call over your shoulder, beelining it for Kyle's patio because you've had enough drinks in that vacant chair across from him to know you're always welcome, especially in a situation like this. Sure enough, Kyle perks up when he sees it's you climbing out of the strange car, and then furrows his brow over your shoulder when you hear Dylan climbing out after you. Some snivelly little creature you've been trying to kill since you turned eighteen holds the reins when you turn back to him despite your better instincts, your need to avoid a scene outweighing everything else in that moment.

Your date's facade is visibly crumbling now, his frustration obvious in the set of his jaw and the sweat at his temples. You wonder if perhaps the thermostat had been a bit much and then immediately decide you don't care when he stammers something about maybe coming in for a glass of something nicer than what the restaurant had to offer. 

Presumptuous. "I don't," you blurt, only continuing when he blinks at you in confusion, "drink anything nice, that is." Across the lawn, you think you hear Kyle snort.

"Uh… coffee?" Dylan asks, just as stubborn as you.

"Gave up caffeine," you lie, trying not to think about the lovely mocha creation Kyle will likely offer you momentarily when you tell him you've got a splitting headache.

To his credit, Dylan doesn't quite pout. "Right. Well. Do this again sometime?"

And you're already on a roll with the lies so you just carry right on with them, chirping out a high, "Sure!" before trying to turn on your heel.

But you're out of niceties when a firm grip on your shoulder keeps you in place, Dylan's scraggly mustache looming into your space as you watch his lips pucker in horror. 

"Oh I'm good, thanks!" you squeak, yanking yourself out of his grip. A laugh bubbles out of you afterward, uncomfortable but still amused by your own reaction. Your satisfaction only grows when Dylan begins to look genuinely pissy. This was exactly what you wanted to avoid but you're past the point of caring.

"Is that it, then?" Dylan huffs, taking a daring step forward. 

You slide back, lock step. "'Fraid so."

"Even after I bought you dinner?"

"And made me feel bad about eating it?" You scoff. "Yeah."

"I drove all the way out from -."

"What's all this?"

You're not sure who jumps more at Kyle's sudden appearance. He hovers by your shoulder, a silent type of fury pulling at his pretty face. You forget sometimes he's military, his general geniality always setting you at ease. It makes this new version of him all the more frightening, a lethal force sitting pretty at your side. 

This is what makes the rent worth it, honestly.

"Kyle, this is Dylan. My date for the night."

Kyle hums, clearly unconcerned with the specifics. "Well, night's over."

You smirk up at where the sun still lingers over the horizon, pale behind its cloudy cover but present all the same. "Indeed."

"Piss off, mate," Dylan tries, his voice sterner than you'd originally given him credit for. 

You raise your brow at him but Kyle doesn't even bother. He turns to you and smiles, eyes crinkling around the corners, much too tight to be natural. "Luvie, will you go get us some drinks? Sliding door's unlocked."

Part of you rankles at the dismissal, but a bigger part of you does indeed want to be done with this horrible man so you nod, wave a sarcastic two finger salute at Dylan and finally make your way back across the lawn, slipping into Kyle's warm and cozy apartment with a sigh of relief. 

For all the friendly patio drinks you've had with him since moving in, you've never actually stepped foot in Kyle's place. You take a moment to admire it, noting the cleanliness and a tidiness which undeniably spoke of a military career. Still, small concessions to his personality dotted the walls and surfaces. A fresh laundry scented candle, a stack of blu-rays, framed pictures of people you've never met all grinning happily. You spot Kyle's same smile reflected back at you from all these different faces, his entire family evidently blessed with that thousand watt grin and you wonder how one camera could sustain all those lumens being beamed at it.

The layout matches yours, simply reflected. You find the kitchen easily, again noting the cleanliness with a nod of approval. Someday he'd retire and settle down, make someone extremely happy. You could only hope you would be long gone by then because the jealousy might truly drive you to desperate measures. Like taking Tinder back up again, for example. The notion draws you to the kitchen window, quest for beverages all but forgotten when you see Kyle leaning over Dylan's shoulder as the latter man flips through his phone. You frown in confusion, drawing closer to the window as Kyle reaches out and starts poking around your date's phone on his own. It's cracked open, crisp fall breeze whistling through. It drowns out the noise of the conversation but you try anyway, ears straining for any word whispered between the two. A moment passes, another. Dylan becomes increasingly agitated while Kyle stays the picture of controlled severity. You don't hear either of them at all until Kyle's eyes dart to the apartment, finding yours instantly. You gulp, feeling as if you've been caught despite not actually doing anything wrong anyway, and suddenly Kyle's veneer breaks like a thunder cloud. He claps Dylan on the shoulder heavily, turning his beaming smile on the smaller man and calling him a good lad.

Dylan mutters something indiscernible and turns back towards his car, resolutely ignoring as Kyle calls out overly friendly farewells. The engine rips to life, a low growl which suggests it's in dire need of an oil change. Still, it bravely fires up and carries Dylan away, Kyle turning back to you with a roll of his eyes which seemed to say 'this fuckin' guy.'

You grin at him, rolling your eyes right back before ducking your head, suddenly bashful under your neighbor's full attention. Drinks forgotten, you meet him at the door and thank him profusely, ignoring the way he tries to wave it off as if it was nothing,

"No, seriously, Kyle, that was very much appreciated. Probably not necessary but appreciated anyway. Please let me know if there's ever a way I can make it up to you."

And now Kyle's smirk is salacious. Great. "Well, you can join me for that drink I requested to start," he laughs, waving you back into his apartment. "Then you can tell me what you were doing on a date with a guy like that."

"Hm," you hum, already given in but thinking of how you can get what you want out of him first. Your scheming has already worked out so well for you tonight, after all. "Sure, but first you gotta tell me what you were doing on his phone."

He doesn't even miss a beat. "No can do. Top secret stuff."

"Oh," you scoff, allowing yourself to be corralled toward the couch. It's surprisingly soft, instantly cocooning you the moment you slump into it. A woven blanket hangs over the back of it which you wonder if Kyle would mind you using, if he'd get a kick out of returning from the kitchen to find you curled up like you owned the place. Probably, he wouldn't because he's much too nice to you always. "Potential terrorist threat was he?"

"He did fit the profile," Kyle calls back from the kitchen. 

You laugh, decide if he's allowed to call your date a terrorist then you're definitely allowed to use his blanket. His fault for leaving the window open on such a cold day. As expected, Kyle seems completely unbothered when he returns moments later, your favorite mocha monstrosity in one hand and his standard plain, sweetened coffee in the other. He holds your drink out of your reach teasingly however until you admit you'd met Dylan on a dating app and he tuts, relenting your drink to you almost as an apology for what you've had to go through.

"Why are you even on those things?" he asks, slurping at his coffee noisily. It's a funny habit of his, one he somehow manages to make endearing. 

Though, looking like that, you imagine he could probably make booger picking endearing.

"Well, Kyle, some of us aren't quite as naturally charming as you."

He smirks, doesn't bother to deny it. Cocky asshole. "Don't sell yourself short, I'm sure plenty of men would love to have their blankets stolen by you." He winks, hand reaching out to pluck at the weave which drapes over your shoulder. His hand lingers there, warm even through the layers, and your laugh dies in your throat, comes out as a strangled scoff.

"Well. Keep it a little warmer in here and your guests wouldn't have to make themselves at home uninvited."

Kyle's smile is softer this time, dangerously handsome. "You're always invited, pet."

And try as you might to be witty, you can't quite come up with a response to that. Kyle doesn't seem to need one, though, slurping at his coffee as he settles in, far too close. The hand which had been at your shoulder settles lower, palm warm where he kneads at your thick thigh experimentally. You'd laugh at the irony if your brain wasn't too busy turning somersaults trying to make sense of what's happening. Surely your neighbor Kyle - sexy, sharp, nice Kyle - isn't coming onto you.

Right?

But then he's leaning forward and placing his mug on the table, his thick fingers guiding your own mug to your mouth for a quick, stunned sip before pulling it away again and placing it next to his own. He's facing you now, full on, his big dark eyes gleaming with mischief. 

"I was making him delete all your contact info. Earlier. And then I made him deactivate his account," Kyle laughs, an infectious thing which gets you giggling too.

"Not willing to subject other girls to him?"

"I don't take chances," Kyle confirms, voice solemn as a vow. "But what about you, pet? What do I gotta do to convince you to delete yours?"

Given you'd already planned on deleting it, you should really just tell him you've already learned your lesson and there's no need to do anything at all. But your scheming has only yielded a fifty percent success rate tonight and you'd rather go for broke than break even so you just smile, wondering if Kyle saw your no-hookups stipulation on your profile before making Dylan unmatch earlier. 

You hope not.

"I don't know, it might take a lot of convincing."