郡上八幡市 | Gujō-hachiman City
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

izzy's playlists!

if i look back, i am lost
Show & Tell
i don't do bad sauce passes
Misplaced Lens Cap
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Three Goblin Art
noise dept.

blake kathryn
Mike Driver
occasionally subtle
Xuebing Du

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will byers stan first human second
Stranger Things
h
taylor price

Product Placement
Peter Solarz

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@matthewrtg
郡上八幡市 | Gujō-hachiman City
Hiroko Otake, Metamorphosis, 2016
tundras are soooo pretty aand beautiful to look at smears of best ever colors on flat and muted greens and yellows.... hard agree with los campesinos like yes take a body to tundra for real......
nature but it looks like a sad hug its so real
He’s helping
(via)
Op is denying us the fucking golden replies to this tweet omg
When i had breast reduction surgery, i got into the OR and got put on this table that looked like a flat crucifix (arms out so they could get to the girls), and i said ‘god, don’t nail me down’
they put the mask on my face and the nurse said ‘no jesus treatment today’
and the last thing i said to her was ‘jesus with some big ass titties’ and then passed out.
Post complete. We can all go home now
Japanese woodblock prints by Numata Kashu (1838-1901)
Okay, that’s IT. As a bisexual ranch dressing supporter I just can’t continue to follow you in good conscience. Why do you industrial carpet shippers all think it’s okay to use bland women as a scapegoat for premium disco culture? Maybe if you actually bothered to read the ukranian degeneracy thesis you’d understand batman’s suntan technique, but I guess you’re just too busy making free insurance consultation posts, so whatever. Blocked, flambéed and unfollowed.
being on mobile and seeing the random generated ask before the warning about it made this an experience
[ID: screenshot of an anon ask reading “gonna send you an angry self righteous anon ask but with a random word generator. Standby” /end ID]
"Blocked, flambeed and unfollowed" is unironically the funniest thing I've seen in a bit of a while.
by Fréderic Pillot
new year, new icon/artist portrait for conventions and events, featuring my heating crisis couture.
Tohoku region, Japan. Photography by bee @bee_tk_
Maybe this is home
Legend has it that if you stand before the fireplace in the living room of the old house on the hill, turn once in the evening light as a black cat lies next to you, looking on, and then thrice say "@gayleviticus I summon thee," Gayleviticus will visit your Tumblr and like one post, but not necessarily the post you expect.
Maybe this is home
OKUMURA Koichi(奥村厚一 Japanese,1904-1974)
Lake Towada in Autumn Colors 十和田湖秋色 1947 Woodblock print via
These picture generating prompters have no shame…..
But this is okay! Let's see what burns to the ground and what doesn't—or, better yet, what rises from the ashes.
FF IX, Existence, and Other Persons
At least in the English version, in the opening cinematic of Final Fantasy IX, the character Vivi utters the words "How do you prove that you exist…? Maybe we don't exist." Of course, translated this way, Vivi's words are dumb. If you act, then, as if by definition, your action IS, which means it exists; but nothing comes from nothing, as every effect, or everything that proceeds from something else, depends, as if by definition, upon that something prior whence it proceeds (deny this, and you deny the intelligibility of the world; it is our confidence in the intelligibility of the world that has allowed us to develop the various sciences and the technologies that these sciences have made possible). Furthermore, if you truly know that you act, then you know that you are the source of that act, which entails that you know that you ARE. And in fact, in every act of knowing, truly knowing, one implicitly affirms one's existence as a condition for the possibility of that knowing. For it is YOU who know, and not another; It is YOUR knowledge, and not another's. One can play verbal games, or one can play coy; but, really, if one has any aspirations to be taken seriously at all as an intelligent being, if one truly wishes to commit to the bit that one cannot know whether he exists despite the fact that he clearly knows the acts even in questioning his existence (and expects us to accept his question as a real, legitimate act), he should fall into a dumb silence — and remained there.
So, as given in the English version, Vivi's line is dumb, and I was going to delight in mopping the proverbial floor with it. I was going to argue, however, that the line does raise interesting questions, if only obliquely, about how existing for others, as being known to exist and appreciated for this by other persons, seems to have a strange but profound impact on how worthwhile, how valuable, we find our own existence to be — how worthwhile, how valuable, we know our existence to be, which knowledge is so important in galvanizing us to act as fully what we are, and thus to exist as fully what we are. It is because it is known and affirmed by his parents that it is good that he exists, good that he is what he is, which affirmation and knowledge is expressed through verbal and nonverbal acts, that a child comes to know, comes to really know, that it is good that he exists, comes to know in a deeply felt way that is very being and place in the world is good; it is out of this deep sense of the goodness of his being that he is able to strike out into the world with confidence and flourish. Without that deep sense, that deeply felt knowledge of the goodness of one's existence — a truly accurate knowledge of one's existence — one is set for a lifelong struggle against the deep sense that existence is not worth it, that life is not worth it — that one's own existence is not worth it — which leaves one unable to be, arguably, in the way that he could have been if, from others, he had received and had planted within himself the knowledge, the true knowledge, of his existence as it is. "Do I exist?" Meant as a question about whether I exists for others, then, is not only not a dumb question, it is a vitally important one as well. Taking this way, Vivi's question is a good one.
As things go, Vivi's question in the original Japanese is, apparently, much closer to what I have argued would be a non-dumb version of the English language version's line. It reads: "生きてるってこと、証明できなければ 死んでしまっているのと同じなのかなぁ... ('If you can't show proof that you're living/alive, it might as well be the same thing as being dead.')" If "proof" is taken as "recognition by others of your own personal acts as personal, as proceeding from a personal existential center that has the intrinsic competence to give birth to good and worthwhile acts that can be recognized as such by others," then it basically gets us thinking along the lines I sketched above. In any event, what other sort of proof could possibly matter? if one construes "proof" as something generated out of oneself that one can recognize for himself as such, as proof that he is alive, that he exists, if he struggles with a sense deep down at the core of his being that he somehow isn't alive or that he somehow doesn't exist (in some sort of full way that matters), what good could such proof possibly do him? How could he, who struggles at the deepest level with a sense of worthlessness or non-full existence extricate himself from the vicious cycle of doubt by himself? That would be to draw something out of nothing; to affirm the possibility of that entails a denial of the intelligibility of the world. Fin. (This is where I found the original Japanese of Viv's line and the translation thereof: https://www.reddit.com/r/FinalFantasy/comments/2zczsh/some_interesting_things_i_learned_playing_ff9s/)
“The way pop culture suggests an aversion to Courtney Love’s drug-addled mythology while espousing Cobain’s martyrdom, the way some communities shit on Lana Del Rey’s “aesthetic sadness” while simultaneously espousing emo bands fronted by men– it’s not to say that any of these genres, digressions, or affinities necessarily deserve respect, but there is a schism and a definite, unfair gender binary that favors troubled men over troubled women–and their right to be troubled. Men who grapple with issues that coincide with art and fame are canonized in death; women who do the same are made lesser, somehow, by their own unequivocal loss.”
— Molly Beauchemin, Amy Winehouse, Kurt Cobain and the Gendering of Martyrdom (via impoverishedsnake)