Ryan Frishkorn
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ryanfrishkorn.com
Ryan Frishkorn
@ryanfrishkorn.com
720 followers 790 following 1.4K posts
KC8RNV - Tech engineer and aesthetic nomad. Intolerant of fascism and nihilism. Listener of crows. Driven by literature, tangled in philosophy, and fractured by everything beautiful.
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ryanfrishkorn.com
#reading #books #literature #theater #shakespeare
"He hath no friends but what are friends for fear, Which in his dearest need will fly from him." Richard III William Shakespeare
November 26, 2025 at 6:38 PM
ryanfrishkorn.com
#reading #books #literature #shakespeare
But then I sigh and, with a piece of scripture; Tell them that God bids us do good for evil; And thus I clothe my naked villainy With odd old ends stol'n forth of Holy Writ, And seem a saint when most I play the devil. Richard III William Shakespeare
November 22, 2025 at 3:51 PM
ryanfrishkorn.com
November 21, 2025 at 1:31 PM
ryanfrishkorn.com
#reading #books #fiction #literature #scifi
“Authors, full of evil thoughts, lock up your typewriters. They did. Magazines became a nice blend of vanilla tapioca. Books, so the damned snobbish critics said, were dishwater. No wonder books stopped selling, the critics said. But the public, knowing what it wanted, spinning happily, let the comic books survive. And the three-dimensional sex-magazines, of course. There you have it, Montag. It didn't come from the Government down. There was no dictum, no declaration, no censorship, to start with, no! Technology, mass exploitation, and minority pressure carried the trick, thank God. Today, thanks to them, you can stay happy all the time, you are allowed to read comics, the good old confessions, or trade journals.” Fahrenheit 451 Ray Bradbury
November 4, 2025 at 1:47 AM
ryanfrishkorn.com
#reading #books #literature #fiction
“Mr. Montag, you are looking at a coward. I saw the way things were going, a long time back. I said nothing. I'm one of the innocents who could have spoken up and out when no one would listen to the 'guilty,' but I did not speak and thus became guilty myself. And when finally they set the structure to burn the books, using the, firemen, I grunted a few times and subsided, for there were no others grunting or yelling with me, by then. Now, it's too late.” Fahrenheit 451 Ray Bradbury
November 3, 2025 at 3:58 PM
ryanfrishkorn.com
When the gods come among men, they are not known. Jesus was not; Socrates and Shakspeare were not. Antæus was suffocated by the gripe of Hercules, but every time he touched his mother-earth his strength was renewed. Man is the broken giant, and in all his weakness both his body and his mind are invigorated by habits of conversation with nature. The power of music, the power of poetry, to unfix and as it were clap wings to solid nature, interprets the riddle of Orpheus. Ralph Waldo Emerson
November 3, 2025 at 6:18 AM
ryanfrishkorn.com
#reading #books #fiction #literature #scifi
It was a strange quiet meeting. The old man admitted to being a retired English professor who had been thrown out upon the world forty years ago when the last liberal arts college shut for lack of students and patronage. His name was Faber, and when he finally lost his fear of Montag, he talked in a cadenced voice, looking at the sky and the trees and the green park, and when an hour had passed he said something to Montag and Montag sensed it was a rhymeless poem. Fahrenheit 451 Ray Bradbury
November 2, 2025 at 3:10 PM
ryanfrishkorn.com
#reading #books #literature #fiction
“It's not just the woman that died,” said Montag. “Last night I thought about all the kerosene I've used in the past ten years. And I thought about books. And for the first time I realized that a man was behind each one of the books. A man had to think them up. A man had to take a long time to put them down on paper. And I'd never even thought that thought before.” He got out of bed. “It took some man a lifetime maybe to put some of his thoughts down, looking around at the world and life, and then I came along in two minutes and boom! It's all over.” Fahrenheit 451 Ray Bradbury
November 1, 2025 at 3:26 PM
ryanfrishkorn.com
#reading #books #literature #fiction #dystopia
“Laughter blew across the moon-coloured lawn from the house of Clarisse and her father and mother and the uncle who smiled so quietly and so earnestly. Above all, their laughter was relaxed and hearty and not forced in any way, coming from the house that was so brightly lit this late at night while all the other houses were kept to themselves in darkness. Montag heard the voices talking, talking, talking, giving, talking, weaving, reweaving their hypnotic web. Montag moved out through the french windows and crossed the lawn, without even thinking of it. He stood outside the talking house in the shadows, thinking he might even tap on their door and whisper, “Let me come in. I won't say anything. I just want to listen. What is it you're saying?” Fahrenheit 451 Ray Bradbury
October 31, 2025 at 2:55 PM
ryanfrishkorn.com
“A new type of globalized elite has emerged: a transnational class of oligarchs and superwealthy magnates benefiting from waves of privatization and deregulation.”

“This shadow globalization cuts through
‘democratic’ and ‘authoritarian’ jurisdictions alike.”

Chasing Shadows
Ronald J. Deibert
A sea change has been unfolding in the clandestine realms where covert operations are undertaken. A new type of globalized elite has emerged: a transnational class of oligarchs and superwealthy magnates benefiting from waves of privatization and deregulation. This shadow globalization cuts through "democratic" and "authoritarian" jurisdictions alike. Arguably, it's the defining feature of today's world order. Chasing Shadows Ronald J. Deibert
October 28, 2025 at 2:08 PM
ryanfrishkorn.com
#reading #literature #poetry
MY cocoon tightens, colors tease, I'm feeling for the air; A dim capacity for wings Degrades the dress I wear. A power of butterfly must be The aptitude to fly, Meadows of majesty concedes And easy sweeps of sky. So I must baffle at the hint And cipher at the sign, And make much blunder, if at last I take the clew divine. Emily Dickinson
October 24, 2025 at 6:34 PM
ryanfrishkorn.com
#protest #nokings #traitor #impeach #convict #remove
Trump in appropriate attire. Antifachicken Protest sign: “Murders at sea, masked thugs on our streets, No to the king.
October 19, 2025 at 12:04 AM
ryanfrishkorn.com
#protest #nokings
Protest sign: Only fascists hate antifascists.
October 19, 2025 at 12:00 AM
ryanfrishkorn.com
#insect #nature #photography #macro
A gray Acorn Weevil climbing on a patio chair.
October 12, 2025 at 9:16 PM
ryanfrishkorn.com
#reading #books #fiction #literature
Mrs Ramsay sat silent. She was glad, Lily thought, to rest in silence, uncommunicative; to rest in the extreme obscurity of human relationships. Who knows what we are, what we feel? Who knows even at the moment of intimacy. This is knowledge? Aren't things spoilt then, Mrs Ramsay may have asked it seemed to have happened so often, this silence by her side) by saying them? Aren't we more expressive thus? To the Lighthouse Virginia Woolf
October 10, 2025 at 3:44 PM
ryanfrishkorn.com
Couldn’t get his hands on it.
Tiny hands.
October 10, 2025 at 1:18 PM
ryanfrishkorn.com
I am starving, brother.
October 10, 2025 at 1:13 PM
ryanfrishkorn.com
#reading #books #literature #fiction
What is the meaning of life? That was all—a simple question; one that tended to close in on one with years. The great revelation had never come. The great revelation perhaps never did come. Instead there were little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark; here was one. This, that, and the other; herself and Charles Tansley and the breaking wave; Mrs Ramsay bringing them together; Mrs Ramsay saying ‘Life stand still here’; Mrs Ramsay making of the moment something permanent (as in another sphere Lily herself tried to make of the moment something permanent)—this was of the nature of a revelation. In the midst of chaos there was shape; this external passing and flowing (she looked at the clouds going and the leaves shaking) was stuck into stability. Life stand still here, Mrs Ramsay said. ‘Mrs Ramsay! Mrs Ramsay!’ she repeated. She owed this revelation to her. To the Lighthouse Virginia Woolf
October 8, 2025 at 4:16 PM
ryanfrishkorn.com
Timeless dilemma.
Brendon and Jason enabling each other to eat way too much junk food.
October 6, 2025 at 12:27 PM
ryanfrishkorn.com
To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf
October 5, 2025 at 12:09 PM
ryanfrishkorn.com
#reading #books #literature #fiction
"I don't have a spelling book." "You're right. But how do we get one?" "Very simple: we go to a bookshop and buy one." "And what about the money?" "I don't have any." "Neither do I," added the good old man, becoming dejected. And though Pinocchio was a very cheerful boy, he too became dejected: because when poverty is truly poverty, everyone-even kids-understand it. "Oh well!" cried Geppetto, standing up all of a sudden. He put on his old moleskin coat, which was all patches and repairs, and ran out of the house. After a while he came back, and when he did, he was holding the boy's spelling book. But he was no longer wearing his coat. The poor man was in his shirtsleeves. And it was snowing outside. "What about your coat, Dad?" "I sold it." "And why did you sell it?" "Because I was too hot in it." The Adventures of Pinocchio Carlo Collodi
September 30, 2025 at 2:53 PM
ryanfrishkorn.com
“When you get to the Big Oak, you’ll find a poor, half-dead puppet on the grass. Pick him up gently, lay him on the cushions of the carriage just as he is, and bring him here to me.”

The Adventures of Pinocchio
Carlo Collodi
Illustration of Pinocchio being placed in bed by the Blue Fairy after having been nearly killed.
September 30, 2025 at 2:23 PM
ryanfrishkorn.com
#reading #literature #books #fiction #pynchon
The fathers have no power today and never did, but because 40 years ago we could not kill them, we are condemned now to the same passivity, the same masochist fantasies they cherished in secret, and worse, we are condemned in our weakness to impersonate men of power our own infant children must hate, and wish to usurp the place of, and fail.... So generation after generation of men in love with pain and passivity serve out their time in the Zone, silent, redolent of faded sperm, terrified of dying, desperately addicted to the comforts others sell them, however useless, ugly or shallow, willing to have life defined for them by men whose only talent is for death. Gravity's Rainbow Thomas Pynchon
September 28, 2025 at 2:43 PM
ryanfrishkorn.com
I love these guys! They hang out with me when I’m reading on the patio. They are so feather light, sometimes I can’t even feel them land. They also love basil and cornflowers.
Blue cornflower with a hoverfly floating just beside the petals.
September 24, 2025 at 1:22 AM
ryanfrishkorn.com
The few remaining fireworks before the floral night, when color sleeps within dreams of barefoot mornings, of rays falling warm on pavement before early waking. #nature #photography #macro #flowers
Close view of a blue cornflower with white tips.
September 22, 2025 at 4:10 PM