glaukopis

but it's calm under the waves in the blue of my oblivion

[residents-yt-comments]

[cuntclave]

Fiona Apple at Governors Ball, 2012

[semperardens-juli]

Mahmoud Darwish, In The Presence of Absence translated by Sinan Antoon (x)

[mithrandirl]

[cosmonautroger]

Eric Idle, John Cleese, Neil Innes, Terry Gilliam, Michael Palin, Terry Jones, Monty Python And The Holy Grail

[anti-parent]

For every worker, someone had to gestate and give birth to them, care for them as infants, raise them as children, and teach them the skills to navigate the labor market and find a job. from one day to the next, someone has to wash their clothes, provide them with the means of bathing, and feed them. This is an immense amount of work, dependent on extensive infrastructures of housing, fresh water, waste disposal, and access to basic goods. The reproduction of the workforce requires a whole other form of work that takes place outside of industrial manufacturing, and often outside the wage relation altogether. These are essential points of social reproduction theory.

Family Abolition: Capitalism and the Communizing of Care by M.E. O'Brien, pages 23-24

[shelterpub]

Hallig Habel, a farm in northern Germany on the North Sea, an area of low flatlands and mudflats. This photo was taken during an extreme high tide. From Home Work: Handbuilt Shelter

Photo by Hans Joachim Kürtz

[ghiblin]

HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE ハウルの動く城 2004, dir. Hayao Miyazaki

[victoria-pedretti]

Marilyn Monroe as Sugar "Kane" Kowalczyk SOME LIKE IT HOT 1959 — dir. Billy Wilder

[finita--la--commedia]

“Time is not a straight line, it’s more of a labyrinth, and if you press close to the wall at the right place you can hear the hurrying steps and the voices, you can hear yourself walking past on the other side.”

— Tomas Tranströmer (1931-2015), from “Answers to Letters”, in: “The Great Enigma”, translated from the Swedish by Robin Fulton

[quotespile]

“You be greater than your feelings. I don’t demand this of you — life does. Otherwise you’ll be washed away by feelings. You’ll be washed out to sea and never seen again.”

— Philip Roth, Indignation

[dreadwedge]

[letterful]

In Orwell’s essay “A Hanging,” the writer watches the condemned man, walking toward the gallows, swerve to avoid a puddle. For Orwell, this represents precisely what he calls the “mystery” of the life that is about to be taken: when there is no good reason for it, the condemned man is still thinking about keeping his shoes clean. It is an “irrelevant” act (and a marvelous bit of noticing on Orwell’s part). Now suppose this were not an essay but a piece of fiction. And indeed there has been a fair amount of speculation about the proportion of fact to fiction in such essays of Orwell’s. 

The avoidance of the puddle would be precisely the kind of superb detail that, say, Tolstoy might flourish; War and Peace has an execution scene very close in spirit to Orwell’s essay, and it may well be that Orwell basically cribbed the detail from Tolstoy. In War and Peace, Pierre witnesses a man being executed by the French, and notices that, just before death, the man adjusts the blindfold at the back of his head, because it is uncomfortably tight. The avoidance of the puddle, the fiddling with the blindfold—these are what might be called irrelevant or superfluous details. They are not explicable; in fiction, they exist to denote precisely the inexplicable. This is one of the “effects” of realism, of “realistic” style. 

But Orwell’s essay, assuming it records an actual occurrence, shows us that such fictional effects are not merely conventionally irrelevant, or formally arbitrary, but have something to tell us about the irrelevance of reality itself (…) There was no logical reason for the condemned man to avoid the puddle. It was pure remembered habit. Life, then, will always contain an inevitable surplus, a margin of the gratuitous, a realm in which there is always more than we need: more things, more impressions, more memories, more habits, more words, more happiness, more unhappiness. 

— JAMES WOOD, from How Fiction Works.

[letterful]

What exactly do these irrational standards mean? They mean the supremacy of the detail over the general, of the part that is more alive than the whole, of the little thing which a man observes and greets with a friendly nod of the spirit while the crowd around him is being driven by some common impulse to some common goal. I take my hat off to the hero who dashes into a burning house and saves his neighbor’s child; but I shake his hand if he has risked squandering a precious five seconds to find and save, together with the child, its favorite toy. I remember a cartoon depicting a chimney sweep falling from the roof of a tall building and noticing on the way that a sign-board had one word spelled wrong, and wondering in his headlong flight why nobody had thought of correcting it. In a sense, we all are crashing to our death from the top story of our birth to the flat stones of the churchyard and wondering with an immortal Alice in Wonderland at the patterns of the passing wall. This capacity to wonder at trifles — no matter the imminent peril — these asides of the spirit, these footnotes in the volume of life are the highest forms of consciousness, and it is in this childishly speculative state of mind, so different from commonsense and its logic, that we know the world to be good.

— VLADIMIR NABOKOV, from Lectures on Literature.

[flowerytale]

Nick Cave, The Sick Bag Song

[blondebrainpowered]

Cat paw prints in the medieval floor tiles of the 12th century CE St Peter Church in Wormleighton, England

[sacredwhores]

Jacques Rivette - Céline and Julie Go Boating (1974)

[infimace-blog]

dead wife montage but it's a henchman reminiscing about da boss after he got put six feet under. picking flowers before hiding the bodies, wiping cocaine from your nose after a big night, that long drive down the beach to find the bookie who squealed. where did the days go