“Despite the heart numbing frost, my soul is blooming like spring.”
(x)99 aka Amanda Elledge (American, b. 1978, Kalamazoo, MI, USA, based Lille, France) - Tuesday, 2014 Photography
(via x99elledge)
3 ST∆TES
Got this image before sleep last night. How I presume my body is divided.
(via floradenison)
“To find a honey tree, first catch a bee. Catch a bee when its legs are heavy with pollen; then it is ready for home. It is simple enough to catch a bee on a flower: hold a cup or glass above the bee, and when it flies up, cap the cup with a piece of cardboard. Carry the bee to a nearby open spot—best an elevated one—release it, and watch where it goes. Keep your eyes on it as long as you can see it, and hie you to that last known place. Wait there until you see another bee; catch it, release it, and watch. Bee after bee will lead toward the honey tree, until you see the final bee enter the tree. Thoreau describes this process in his journals. So a book leads its writer. You may wonder how you start, how you catch the first one. What do you use for bait? You have no choice. One bad winter in the Arctic, and not too long ago, an Algonquin woman and her baby were left alone after everyone else in their winter camp had starved. Ernest Thompson Seton tells it. The woman walked from the camp where everyone had died, and found at a lake a cache. The cache contained one small fishhook. It was simple to rig a line, but she had no bait, and no hope of bait. The baby cried. She took a knife and cut a strip from her own thigh. She fished with the worm of her own flesh and caught a jackfish; she fed the child and herself. Of course she saved the fish gut for bait. She lived alone at the lake, on fish, until spring, when she walked out again and found people. Seton’s informant had seen the scar on her thigh.”— excerpt from “The Writing Life” by Annie Dillard (via house-of-fortitude)
awesomepeoplehangingouttogether:
Kurt Gödel and Albert Einstein
The Atlantic:
Happy Birthday, Aldous Huxley: A Rare, Prophetic 1958 Interview
Aldous Huxley—author of the classic Brave New World, little-known children’s book wordsmith, staple of Carl Sagan’s reading list—would have been 118 today. To celebrate his mind and his legacy, here is a rare 1958 conversation with Mike Wallace—the same masterful interviewer who also offered rare glimpses into the minds of Salvador Dalí and Ayn Rand—in which Huxley predicts the “fictional world of horror” depicted in Brave New World is just around the corner for humanity. He explains how overpopulation is among the greatest threats to our freedom, admonishes against the effects of advertising on children, and, more than a century before Occupy Wall Street, outlines how global economic destabilization will incite widespread social unrest.
It’s extremely important, here and now, to start thinking about these problems—not to let ourselves be taken by surprise by the new advances of technology.
[…]
We can foresee, and we can do a great deal to forestall. After all, the price of freedom is eternal vigilance.
Wallace reads a passage on American political campaigns from Huxley’s Brave New World(originally written under the title Enemies of Freedom) that rings with remarkable, and remarkably unsettling, timeliness:
All that is needed is money and a candidate who can be coached to look sincere; political principles and plans for specific action have come to lose most of their importance. The personality of the candidate, the way he is projected by the advertising experts, are the things that really matter.
(via orwell)