Jules of Nature
KIROKAZE

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No title available
Misplaced Lens Cap

if i look back, i am lost

tannertan36
d e v o n
wallacepolsom
No title available
YOU ARE THE REASON
Stranger Things
Peter Solarz
AnasAbdin
styofa doing anything

Discoholic 🪩
Three Goblin Art
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
tumblr dot com
Keni

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@snugglebucket
This is so fucking rude
Lunch time! Also for Mom. Yes, you saw that right 😬😆
Another week
with a suboptimal work-bird balance, but I managed to go through some photos. The weather has been too cold for my liking these last days too, and it felt a bit like all that spring feeling came to a temporary halt. Nevertheless, it is not just Goldfinches, MoDos and Grackles here anymore. Along with the Orioles, a male Rose-breasted Grosbeak has arrived, and yesterday, a female joined him. You can see nicely why they have their name - for their big, strong beaks. They love black oilers and can sit down at the feeder for a long time.
I resent the inevitable consequences the second law of thermodynamics has on my tea and the entropy of the universe. It always happens too damn soon.
The hell do you mean “use a tea light” you’re telling me those things can be used to heat tea???
Fam I’ve been lied to and deceived
Wait please what are you being told, this has raised many questions about tea lights for me.
Apparently the way you’re supposed to use tea lights is like this
Which no one ever told me is possible or exists and might now become my villain origin story after suffering years of cold tea
I'm sorry they're what
They heat tea. They heat tea because they’re tea lights. They’re named that way because they’re literally devices to keep your tea warm and somehow no one has ever told me this and they’re tea lights to heat tea and I might just—[CENSORED]
I’m glad we’re all having a normal one today folks
Dudes rock
“If you’re poor, the only way you’re likely to injure someone is the old traditional way: artisanal violence, we could call it – by hands, by knife, by club, or maybe modern hands-on violence, by gun or by car. But if you’re tremendously wealthy, you can practice industrial-scale violence without any manual labor on your own part. You can, say, build a sweatshop factory that will collapse in Bangladesh and kill more people than any hands-on mass murderer ever did, or you can calculate risk and benefit about putting poisons or unsafe machines into the world, as manufacturers do every day. If you’re the leader of a country, you can declare war and kill by the hundreds of thousands or millions. And the nuclear superpowers – the US and Russia – still hold the option of destroying quite a lot of life on Earth. So do the carbon barons. But when we talk about violence, we almost always talk about violence from below, not above. […] People revolt when their lives are unbearable. Sometimes material reality creates that unbearableness: droughts, plagues, storms, floods. But food and medical care, health and well-being, access to housing and education – these things are also governed by economic means and government policy.[…] That’s a tired phrase, the destruction of the Earth, but translate it into the face of a starving child and a barren field – and then multiply that a few million times. Or just picture the tiny bivalves: scallops, oysters, Arctic sea snails that can’t form shells in acidifying oceans right now. Or another superstorm tearing apart another city. Climate change is global-scale violence, against places and species as well as against human beings. Once we call it by name, we can start having a real conversation about our priorities and values. Because the revolt against brutality begins with a revolt against the language that hides that brutality.”
— Call Climate Change What It Is: Violence, Rebecca Solnit. (via kuanios)
The Scottish play strikes again
guide 4 teens
tell the cops nothing
tell the paramedics everything
ur eyebrows are fine
quentin tarantino just died at the oscars (trampled to death)
it's unfortunately what he would have wanted
i. forgot about the feet involved in trampling. deleting my post why would you say this
WORKING CLASS SOLIDARITY
My dad told me recently that the most important public health workers are garbage collectors and janitors. So much of our health relies on a clean environment. These people do some of the most important work in society. If we learned in dirty public environments full of garbage, we’d all be sick. I cannot thank these people enough for the valuable work that they do.
Shout out to all garbage collectors, janitors and housekeepers!
Thanks sanitation workers, we love you folks.
My father had this over his workbench when I was a kid.
Extremely City white people are so fucking weird they see a pic of a deer and theyre like “its an Old God, tell me the wisdom of the trees Forest Lord … wow this is just like game of thrones” its a deer. Its a fucking stupid idiot animal it doesnt know shit
Yes deer are dumb panicky dinguses in real life, but sometimes a picture will capture one looking all majestic and we just… want to believe…
Case in point: this dude
Yes he got like that by being so hormonally addled that he tried to fight a tree. But try to tell me a forest god wouldn’t have big leafy antlers just like that if he were to take a physical form.
who says the old gods aren’t stupid animals who are so hormonally addled they’d try to fight a tree
@librariansheart for your enjoyment
Look, I’ve lived a good chunk of my childhood in a halfway abandoned mountain village in the middle of nowhere. Which meant wildlife galore whether you liked it or not.
And that meant sometimes we saw a deer in the middle of the road at midnight and the majestic motherfucker just stared us down until my mom shredded our tires to stop from hitting him. Once we stopped he did a little half-bow as if saying ‘You have not committed an act of godslayer this night. Your bloodline shall bear no curse of mine’, and walked away chill as you please.
The next day a neighbor told us a deer with fucking big antlers got tangled in his fence because it was trying to steal his grapes.
I went on a hike with another neighbor to collect yarrow for tea. A bear came out of the woods towards us, went on its hind legs and inquiringly roared. And he pushed me, tiny as I was back then, behind me out of sight and spread his jacket wide to make himself seem bigger than he already was. He let out a sound I had not known humans were capable of making. He and the bear looked at each other for a moment, and came to an understanding. The bear went down and walked away, respecting a powerful opponent protecting its young.
A week ago, there had been a bear that completely tore apart our trashcan and gorged itself on half-fermented apples we threw away. My cousin had to chase it away, drunk out of its tiny fucking mind, with an umbrella that made weird noises when opened. The bear ran for its life, crashed into our wall, fell on its ass, and scampered away.
I was playing on a swing once, all alone, and a fox came up to me, the most beautiful animal I had seen in my ten years of life. Thinking it wanted to pass, I stopped swinging and sat still not to spook it. But instead of passing, the fox circled the swing, found it wanting, and came to sit before me perfectly poised and looked me in the eye, and I could swear it wished to tell me something but I could not understand the language spoken before human time.
Then my mom came out of the nearby inn, shrieked at the fox and swung her purse to chase it away. The fox jumped, ran off and fell into a ditch, all notions of grace gone with the wind.
What I’m saying is: the old gods are absolutely idiot animals who embraced the life of constant sex and hedonism in return for losing their higher power. Whether or not they regret it, we’ll never know.
@thegreenchapel
Well the Old Gods are old. In the same way your grandparents are old. They’re a font of experience and wisdom, they’ve survived wars, famine, poverty–but they’re thwarted by a smartphone. The Great Stag understands “car” in the same way he understands “challenger.” He understands “fence” in the same way he understands “brambles” or “underbrush.” He can handle plant fiber in his way but metal might be a bit beyond him. The Old Gods understand their ways. The Great Stag can can give you the wisdom of being a stag, but humans aren’t stags, so not all of his wisdom applies to our experience. If you promise not to hunt in his forest for a year and a day, he’ll show the trails his herd uses so that you can get out of the woods faster. Maybe you’ll keep that memory, maybe you won’t. If you do remember, you are responsible for being a stewart.
Some believe the Old Gods are living gods. There’s no one single Mother Bear. It’s a title that gets passed on. The beings are inhabited by divine force much older and deeper than any human can imagine. Picture a pebble being thrown into a pond. Each new incarnation is like a new ripple expanding outward. If the Old Gods are living beings then they are limited and falliable. They make mistakes and are prone to embarrassment. Like we all are. Instead of merely venerating them, sympathize with them.
Behold, the rare sight of an Old God interacting with something new:
Now hearing “In the air tonight” played on a church organ, thanks.
I’m sorry but that’s fucking hilarious
spiritual successor to “this is just to say”
The first time I heard my parents swear, I was about 6 and my dad and I were buidling something out of two-by-fours in the garage and he hit his thumb with a hammer and, naturally, yelled “SHIT!”
I stared at him.
He stared at me, eyes watering.
“Now listen,” he said, forcing himself to remain calm as he held his rapidly-becoming purple thumb. “-That’s a word we say ONLY when we’re Really, Really hurt. Now go get your mother.”
And for an improvised moment of parenting, that was actually brilliant because I was a clumsy, uncoordinated child and was basically constantly falling, running into walls, knocking shit over and generally sounding like I was involved in a fatal accident in the other room, but now my parents knew not to worry unless they heard the reedy voice of a pained elementary schooler shrieking “SHIT!”
My teachers on the other hand, were significantly less appreciative of my father’s genius.
Portrait of a Young Woman, Jean-Etienne Liotard
Girl with a Pearl Earring, Johannes Vermeer
#they look like theyve been having a chat about u and u just walked in
I’m on mobile, somebody edit them into this please
Y'all take too long
Same energy
No worries guys, they’re there too
i love abortion and i love divorce
i pop some pills and i ride my horse
i log onto tumblr and i start discourse
eyyyy macarena
this has the strongest 2014 tumblr vibe i’ve seen in a while, can’t believe this post is 5 days old
THIS POST IS FIVE DAYS OLD???? I THOUGHT IT WAS AT LEAST 2 YEARS OLD!!!!!!!
happy 9 day anniversary to this post 💖
date of origin: April 18, 2021
#it even has a deactivated blog
Look at that subtle off-kilter humour… the tasteful length of the reblog chain… oh my god, it even has a deactivated blog