ˌflɒrɪˈliːdʒɪəm @lucasmaybury - Tumblr Blog

Stańczyk (Stańczyk during a ball at the court of Queen Bona in the face of the loss of Smolensk) by Jan Matejko

The jester is depicted as the only person at a royal ball who is troubled by the news that the Muscovites have captured Smolensk.

parallel-limbs

Mark Strand, “Keeping Things Whole”

katherinehoughtoncastle47

ANN DROID - 1x01

deanobanion

“Horsemanning, or fake beheading, was a popular way to pose in a photograph in the 1920’s. Sometimes spelled horsemaning, the horsemanning photo fad derives its name from the Headless Horseman, a character from “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.”

deanobanion

(x)

emilianadarling

HUMAN BEINGS ARE AND ALWAYS HAVE BEEN SUCH HUGE FUCKING DORKS OKAY.

cosmonautroger

Tardigrade, 1773

dduane

Handmade creations distributed to raise funds for charity prompt complaints to police

Some appear to have been made from Nicholson Baker’s 1994 erotic novel The Fermata, with at least one containing sexually explicit passages. Some of those who received the hedgehogs defended the man who made them, saying only some contained explicit content and it was just a mistake. One woman said her four-year-old was “absolutely obsessed” with her paper creation, which was made using pages of Rosemary Enright’s The Walled Garden. “Oversight? Yes,” she added. “I don’t believe [there was] any malicious intent.” Others were eager to get their hands on a hedgehog. “Who’s the old guy making them? I want one,” said one man, commenting on the Wirral Globe story. “It would be especially fun if it was made from an erotic novel. If anyone knows him, tell him I’ll pay postage.”

meme-formats

apoemaday

Relax

by Ellen Bass

Bad things are going to happen. Your tomatoes will grow a fungus and your cat will get run over. Someone will leave the bag with the ice cream melting in the car and throw your blue cashmere sweater in the drier. Your husband will sleep with a girl your daughter’s age, her breasts spilling out of her blouse. Or your wife will remember she’s a lesbian and leave you for the woman next door. The other cat-- the one you never really liked--will contract a disease that requires you to pry open its feverish mouth every four hours. Your parents will die. No matter how many vitamins you take, how much Pilates, you’ll lose your keys, your hair and your memory. If your daughter doesn’t plug her heart into every live socket she passes, you’ll come home to find your son has emptied the refrigerator, dragged it to the curb, and called the used appliance store for a pick up--drug money. There’s a Buddhist story of a woman chased by a tiger. When she comes to a cliff, she sees a sturdy vine and climbs half way down. But there’s also a tiger below. And two mice--one white, one black--scurry out and begin to gnaw at the vine. At this point she notices a wild strawberry growing from a crevice. She looks up, down, at the mice. Then she eats the strawberry. So here’s the view, the breeze, the pulse in your throat. Your wallet will be stolen, you’ll get fat, slip on the bathroom tiles of a foreign hotel and crack your hip. You’ll be lonely. Oh taste how sweet and tart the red juice is, how the tiny seeds crunch between your teeth.