i present u with this orange 🍊

[whetstonefires]

One thing I don't think I've ever seen talked about is how post-apocalypse ideation is largely about homelessness.

Homelessness looms large in the American consciousness. Like, not that it's irrelevant elsewhere, but it's got a particular cultural place in the US that's reflected in Hollywood, and therefore relevant because what makes it into film and TV sets the terms of so many conversations.

We don't acknowledge it if we can help it, but I think most people know they're never more than a few very bad months from winding up there.

Even people who are sure it only happens to people who deserve it, who fuck up and put one foot in the morass of their own foolish volition. Even they know the quicksand is there, waiting to be walked into, and that the odds are stacked against ever climbing out on your own once you have. And that they, too, are capable of fucking up. Of trusting the wrong person. Of getting cancer incorrectly.

And those of us who know damn well we can't be sure we're safe even if we do everything right, we know it even better.

And in that sense it doesn't matter what the world would realistically look like after X kind of apocalypse, what people would do, how society would adapt. Because the anxiety that's being processed is about the reality that's in existence now.

About what if my world ends. And I lose access to the fruits of developed society, to clean clothes and new glasses and running water, to a safe place to sleep where I don't expect to be killed or robbed, or driven out by men with guns and dogs. To my home and work and family and everything I usually use to tell me who I am.

What if every man's hand is against me, and every meal is a small victory, and there's only my own dwindling strength between me and the long night?

Will I make it? Will I hold up under the strain? Will I retain my dignity? Will I be lucky? Will I be able to protect the people I love, in that world, the world where no one is protecting us anymore?

Is there a way to continue to live as a human person, when you're denied the prerogatives of one, and don't know if you'll ever get them back?

Putting this anxiety into the context of a massive apocalypse divorces this scenario from the burden of shame tied up in the idea of winding up in that sort of situation in the normal course of events, by having society vanish rather than expel you, personally, as a washout, and continue on around you.

It also allows you to rule out a priori the question of what resources might be offered but can't in an anticipatory context be counted on; shelters and programs and housed friends and family who may or may not help. And narrow the narrative to only the question of what you can survive, and often a fairy tale about surviving all of it and starting over.

Rehearsing for a loss in a mythologized format is a very normal anxiety processing behavior, and I think a lot of apocalypse scenario building is attached to the buried dread of that personal apocalypse. But I haven't seen that one make the list.

[zenosanalytic]

This is such a good point. Personally I think there's ALLOT going on in PostApoc lit, with dif authors focusing or bringing out dif things obvsl, but this is SUCH an important and overlooked thing to consider, spcl in-light of PostApoc growing in popularity as life in the US became increasingly precarious over the last 30 years.

[arwen-evenstar-archive-deactiva]

Excalibur (1981) dir.: John Boorman

[nohoperadio]

Microdosing on a true experience of beauty by living a single human life from beginning to end

[missmisanthrope]

On November; the month of loneliness and gentle sunlight.

[hunxi-after-hours]

"If rest becomes a form of recovery from work, as is the case today, it loses its specific ontological value. It no longer represents an independent, higher form of existence and degenerates into a derivative of work. Today's compulsion of production perpetuates work and thus eliminates that sacred silence. Life becomes entirely profane, desecrated."

—Han Byung-Chul, The Disappearance of Rituals (trans. Daniel Steuer)

[aeaeaexxzd]

Timothy K. Beal

[spaceintruderdetector]

“The sacred tree, the sacred stone are not adored as stone or tree; they are worshipped precisely because they are hierophanies, because they show something that is no longer stone or tree but the sacred, the [wholly other].” Mircea Eliade. 1959

[monkleya]

not caught up with yellowjackets but i have seen spoilers and i am Thinking. something about the girls eating jackie….the transubstantiation of jackie taylor….this being one of the highest forms of devotion….jackie becoming the unwilling savior…2x02 having scenes that looked like the last supper…. “take, eat: this is my body, which is broken for you; do this in remembrance of me.” ooooo im having thoughts. HAVING A LOT OF THEM, ACTUALLY

the way that where they’re stranded becomes sacred time….trauma infused into that place no matter what. making it sacred. jackie trying to return to a time (something about her being a good leader for high school standards, but not the actual wilderness) that doesn’t exist. all of them trying to return to a time that doesn’t exist…or if it does, it is not the same time from which they came from ohhhhhhh having thoughts HAVING TOO MANY

[corneliushickey]

“Sade’s sexual metaphor is always ambiguous. Linguistically, he mystifies the sexual attributes of the female body; it is described in sacred terms, even in terms of sacred architecture, as though it were a holy place. The female orifice is a shrine, a place of worship. The surgeon, Roland, apostrophises the cunt: ‘temple of my long-loved pleasures’. This ironic sacralisation of the female body is used throughout Sade; even in its mortification, when it is spattered with blood and ordure, the altar retains its perfidious magic. Incense is burned at this altar; ejaculation is regularly ‘the burning of incense’, at the altars Nature intends for such homage. Orgasm itself is often described as the rendering of homage. This homage is itself equivocal, administered with such violence the recipient may regard it as sacrilege, the culmination of an act of pure hostility.”

— Angela Carter, The Sadeian Woman

[noosphe-re]

A whole volume could well be written on the myths of modern man, on the mythologies camouflaged in the plays that he enjoys, in the books that he reads. The cinema, that "dream factory," takes over and employs countless mythical motifs—the fight between hero and monster, initiatory combats and ordeals, paradigmatic figures and images (the maiden, the hero, the paradisal landscape, hell, and so on). Even reading includes a mythological function, not only because it replaces the recitation of myths in archaic societies and the oral literature that still lives in the rural communities of Europe, but particularly because, through reading, the modern man succeeds in obtaining an "escape from time" comparable to the "emergence from time" effected by myths. Whether modern man "kills" time with a detective story or enters such a foreign temporal universe as is represented by any novel, reading projects him out of his personal duration and incorporates him into other rhythms, makes him live in another "history."

Mircea Eliade, The Sacred and The Profane: The Nature of Religion

[blackswaneuroparedux]

If Caravaggio were alive today today, he would have loved the cinema; his paintings take a cinematic approach. We filmmakers became aware of his work in the late 1960s and early 1970s, and he certainly was an influence on us. The best part for us was that in many cases he painted religious subject-matter but the models were obviously people from the streets; he had prostitutes playing saints. There’s something in Caravaggio that shows a real street knowledge of the sinner; his sacred paintings are profane.

Martin Scorsese on Caravaggio

Michelangelo Merisi, known to most of us as “Caravaggio,” was born on September 29, 1571 in Milan, Italy, to parents who were from the small town of Caravaggio. In the span of his 38 years long life he revolutionised painting with innovations like a unique use of chiaroscuro - with dark shadows contrasting with dramatic areas of light - and a deep sense of realism that later inspired the Baroque movement. But most of all, he developed such an iconic style that most of us can probably look at a painting and know if it’s a Caravaggio, or Caravaggio-inspired. 

Merisi spent the first few years of his life in Milan, studying painting, and later moved to Rome, where his early talent impressed Cardinal Del Monte, who introduced the young painter to other high-profile Catholic figures who became commissioners of some of Caravaggio’s best work. It seemed there was no end to the artist’s creative genius. Caravaggio, much to his patron’s delight, would pump out one masterpiece after another. It seemed the more out of control his personal life became (cheating, brawling and murder were standard fare), the more his art would become more refined, more potent.

In the long list of masterpieces he left behind, both secular and religious works stand out. But it is perhaps in his religious works that the artistic transition of the master is more evident. Caravaggio is, in fact, known to have changed his style after harsh personal life experiences led him to reassess his outlook on life.

In May of 1606 Caravaggio took part in a deadly brawl in Rome and was charged with murder. He fled to Malta, in search of asylum from the Order of Saint John, a Catholic order dedicated to helping the sick and the poor. The order commissioned some of the most important late life works of the Milanese artist.

It is in these works that we notice the shift in Caravaggio’s art, from a strong focus on aesthetics to an interest in the spirituality of his subjects, which critics believe was motivated by his own introspection.

On the streets surrounding the churches and palaces, brawls and sword fights were regular occurrences. In the course of this desperate life Caravaggio created the most dramatic paintings of his age, using ordinary men and women - often prostitutes and the very poor - to model for his depictions of classic religious scenes.

By representing biblical characters in a naturalistic fashion, typically through signs of aging and poverty, Caravaggio's populist modernisation of religious parables were little short of trailblazing. Although not without his critics within the church, by effectively humanising the divine, Caravaggio made Christianity more relevant to the ordinary viewer.

For some, though, his art was too real. Bare shoulders, plunging necklines, severed heads; this raw humanity didn’t always fly in 17th century Rome. As a result, many of his pieces were rejected as altar pieces and as church hangings. One such piece, the Madonna of Loretto (now hanging in a church in Rome) was widely criticised upon its unveiling. The people of the day were shocked to behold the Mother of God leaning nonchalantly against a wall in her bare feet while holding baby Jesus in her arms.

It is ironic that the very art that today we consider “classical” and “iconic” to the Catholic faith was considered questionable and perhaps void of modesty and virtue. Yet, the fact remains that no individual artist has made such a lasting impression on the world of modern art. Truly, many have called Caravaggio the “first modern artist”. It is no surprise, then, that his style has sparked both widespread admiration and imitation throughout the centuries.

Before Pope John Paul II refined a theology of the body beautiful, Caravaggio's paintings suggested a reverence for the inherent beauty of human form.

Troubled though he may have been, his art speaks eloquently of the dignity of the mundane. Though the original medium may be weathered and cracked, the message of beauty still echoes down the centuries. And this same beauty still fuels, escapes and reduces artists to relentless seekers as surely and as forcefully as it did in Caravaggio's life.

[inkskinned]

i hate the "meta glasses" with their invisible cameras i hate when people record strangers just-living-their-lives i hate the culture of "it's not illegal so it's fine". people deserve to walk around the city without some nameless freak recording their faces and putting them up on the internet. like dude you don't show your own face how's that for irony huh.

i hate those "testing strangers to see if they're friendly and kind! kindness wins! kindness pays!" clickbait recordings where overwhelmingly it is young, attractive people (largely women) who are being scouted for views and free advertising . they're making you model for them and they reap the benefits. they profit now off of testing you while you fucking exist. i do not want to be fucking tested. i hate the commodification of "kindness" like dude just give random people the money, not because they fucking smiled for it. none of the people recording has any idea about the origin of the term "emotional labor" and none of us could get them to even think about it. i did not apply for this job! and you know what! i actually super am a nice person! i still don't want to be fucking recorded!

& it's so normalized that the comments are always so fucking ignorant like wow the brunette is so evil so mean so twisted just because she didn't smile at a random guy in an intersection. god forbid any person is in hiding due to an abusive situation. no, we need to see if they'll say good morning to a stranger approaching them. i am trying to walk towards my job i am not "unkind" just because i didn't notice your fucked up "social experiment". you fucking weirdo. stop doing this.

[wilwheaton]

The women who write Shit You Should Care About coined a term for this: Panopticontent.

In a Panopticon, the prisoners never know if they are being watched, which is psychological torture, and prohibited under international law. It follows that, if we are in public, never knowing if or that we are being filmed for something that may end up being viewed by millions of people, with all the risks that sort of thing carries, Panopticontent needs to be stopped. Probably the quickest way to curb it is to demonitize it, but that's never going to happen; companies like Meta have spent too much money trying to make it happen.

Late Stage Capitalism is the fucking WORST.

[inkskinned]

see also Foucault's panopticon: how to watch without ever being seen. before he discusses this theory, he relates an idea called "correct training" - training that works on large-scale populations. it is easier to control the behavior of the masses, he posits, when the masses themselves are trained into control.

in his words (pg 170 in the linked text), there is such a thing as discipline "that coerces by means of observation." in other words: behavior can be controlled/forced just by being watched.

when i was a kid, my backpack strap broke on the train and spilled everywhere. it was sleeting outside and everything immediately got wet. so many strangers helped me chase coins and pens and notebooks. it was heartwarming and kind and they comforted me in the wintery new england way - gentle jovial ah it happens kid, no worries, you okay? get home safe before lapsing back into silence.

recently i helped a teen in the airport when the zipper on her suitcase burst open. teary-eyed and panicking, she thanked us profusely while i and a young mother stooped for her belongings. she kept apologizing like she'd done something tragically embarrassing. her head jerked up and around strangely. she giggled kind of nervously. "sorry," she said, "at first i thought you were recording."

[fantasyideas1]

Aphorisms Those who have risen from the death of insensibility where they felt the body, but not the soul, the mind, but the heart, the levitation of the ego, they are drawn into the abyss of the nonsense of materialism, the fallen souls who know happiness in a lie, happiness in fear, faceless blind men in masks of self-deception, drown their souls in the darkness of greed , the secrets of holiness hidden from the ego, they suffocate in a lie as if they were drowned in the waters of self-interest, it hurts evil souls to hear the truth, the truth will become a dawn, and the ego will become a karmic sunset, detached holiness in the void in the valley of exotic paradoxes, hypnotic absurdities, sweet illusions, selfish fears, children's fantasies of vices, in a world where all living things are alien, where it hurts to be sighted, where the flesh is like silk of temptation, lies will warm with hope, illusions of optimism, they are like painkillers, The bad dream of temptations will become their reality, drugs are illusory goals, we are a cemetery bad memories, we are a projection of the irony of vices, freedom in the void, so few lamps (the human body) in which the light of the truth of life itself burns, multi-colored lamps e more and more goism, the winter of indifference will hide in the ice of immortal consciousness the shame of selfishness, ice that will stop time for rethinking, the cold of emptiness awakens the mind, cools the pain from vices, insensibility in the cold, steam from the mouth in which thoughts that lurk in the darkness of the soul come out, hopelessness in which freezes all hopes, the light of sincerity illuminates the path to infinity, the fog of cold leads away from time, we are dead for centuries in reincarnation in the world of egoists, The architecture of fear, the world generated by despair, fear of poverty, detached from each other by selfish blindness, in the void illusions they see happiness, a masterpiece of depression from building materials, invertebrate materialists, selfish fear, in the languid light of temptations, people plunge into the darkness of self-deception, pirouettes of hope illuminate the way, the third eye is like a flashlight on a helmet, people turn into shadows in a fog of illusions, hypnotic benefit makes the mind weaker, the weak mind becomes food, where mortal sins devour your soul, glaucoma of the ego makes it difficult to see the truth, the brain is like an audio-video film that shows pictures of the subconscious from all lives, a projector that shows the life experience of all ages. Author: Musin Almat Zhumabekovich

[holymagdalenes]

"There's no hope for the future." And that's how they felt during the Atomic Age, during the World Wars, during the Enlightenment Revolutions, during thr plagues, during the Viking raids, during the fall of Rome.

Yet, we persisted.

[ave-immaculata]

[letmetakeastabatit]

CS Lewis had something to say about this

[grendelsmilf]

I think the hot new trends for this summer should be reading comprehension and critical thinking skills

[rae-arachne]

when you walk in and they have this on their wall

you know the panties hit the floor

[mournfulroses]

Sylvia Plath, from a journal entry featured in "The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath,"

[fandom-trash-goblin]

like matryoshka, one inside another inside another inside another.

Birthright, George Abraham // tumblr user dogsmouth // The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova: White Flock //Anne Carson, Nox // A Crash Course in Molotov Cocktails, Halyna Kruk // Herman Melville, from a letter to Nathaniel Hawthorne //tumblr user eridan-amporna // tumblr user boyflesher(deactivated) // For Your Own Good, Leah Horlick // Elizabeth Robinson, Brothers