Photo reblogged from WOWGREAT with 142 notes
Edward J Woolsey 1869
(via Black Smith - Timeline Photos)
Video reblogged from heath west with 172 notes
Shane Campbell Gallery, May 3 - June 14, 2014
now no standard issues here don’t take offence. obviously i make this sort of crap myself personally, and i believe in and “understand” this sort of crap, and certainly it seems important right now to isolate and illuminate just this very sort of crap, but since i can’t expect to make any money off of it, i can say, srsly, what the fuck kind of dickhead gets told it’s good fashion to buy and display ready-framed decorating samples. it’s shameful. this is why we have lino, and tarmac, & F****** DIY.
"oh this is my new VFX floor"
"no one in my social circle has ever even seen this particular design of lino, let alone tiled their kitchen with it."
Arms Dealers and stock brokers that’s who.
Photo reblogged from elmer season with 171 notes
Video reblogged from elmer season with 3 notes
John Wizards - Lusaka by night
dim strobing is not inherently uncomfortable even when its detailed
Photo reblogged from isamizdat with 17 notes
Microscopic Photography of #Diatoms with Rheinberg Illumination
Text reblogged from MONETIZE YOUR CAT with 16 notes
It was founded in the 1930s by fishing families who named the settlement after the Shoyna (“cemetery” in Komi language) River. An abundance of fish and sea life led to prosperity within the collective farm organized there, and by the 1950s some 1,500 persons lived in Shoyna with a fishing fleet numbering more than seventy vessels.
Ultimately, reckless trawling led to the utter annihilation of the benthic life, which decimated the fishery. More than half of the village is now buried under sand dunes deposited by the wind. It is thought that damage to permafrost and destruction of the sea bottom released the sand, which has overwhelmed residents’ abilities to control the drifts. The collective farm no longer operates; today, just three hundred inhabitants live at Shoyna, supported mainly by unemployment benefits and pensions.
Video reblogged from EXPERIMENTAL CINEMA with 1,364 notes
"[Food] is one of my persistent obsessions that had its source in my childhood. I was a child who did not want to eat. My parents were desperate. They would pour fish oil, fortified wine and various other liquids into me to enhance the taste of food, and they would send me to ‘fattening’ camps and other such places. I ended up so weakened and bony that I could not stand and my mum had to push me in a wheelchair. I was not even accepted in school. Besides, a chewing mouth is quite a fitting symbol of this aggressive, all-devouring civilization." [x]
"Food is perhaps the most apt symbol of our civilization because in its insatiable aggression, our civilization consumes everything around us: nature, animals, whole ethnic groups, cultures… everything gets digested in its utilitarian maw only to be excreted as money—the excrement of our times. Just like a small child our civilization considers its excrements to be the most valuable product it managed to squeeze out, and uses it to reward its favorites." [x]
— Jan Švankmajer on the recurrent theme of food in his films.
Text reblogged from MONETIZE YOUR CAT with 19 notes
have you spoken to your father lately?
Photo reblogged from Athena, holding your hair, whispering in your ear with 1,050 notes
Photo reblogged from Athena, holding your hair, whispering in your ear with 4,737 notes
Video reblogged from Raw R[e]volution with 115,024 notes
stop stressin y’all, I’ve come to the conclusion that we’re just leaves
Text with 2 notes
when i was little i had this fear that
should any part of my body fall outside of the bed
it would be removed by things in the darkness
i would be startled awake by the sensation of an abstract cold burning describing any body part that had strayed, in bright singularity.
Now, you can magic up any number of Reasons for this experience, but the truth is that it’s genetically instinctual and it’s because of when we slept in trees, and we had to stay flush with the tree trunk so no predators would see us.
I’m kidding, but an ancestral memory of sleeping in trees is the explanation i have always been given for those short dreams about falling we all seem to get, that startle us awake, and an explanation proudly, Secularly stated. Now i’d say There’s no way of proving with 100% certainty thut that is the reason there are such dreams, but, shouldn’t the concurrent blooming sensation of Truth alone be enough to assure the wisdom of faith?
Especially in such matters as what is and what is not genetic memory, i mean you’d think we would just know, right, and it feels right, so.
There is a sense of scale i must struggle to hold the name of,
and, having not named it, often have lost it, though it acts upon me.
Skittering, fleeting impossibility.
Is it only the solipsist’s house that is empty?
Bewildering distance is a home to us all,
Though slower to show its multiplicity without chemical aid, glandular or otherwise.
and dreams gladly mounted,
all the intimacy
of a legible diagram,
it is only the animist, whose pockets are full.
Page 310 of 1600