Is it rude to follow someone's tumblr if you don't know them?
Do you have to ask them first, or can you do it without permission? At what point does following become stalking? Am I a creep for wondering this?
May 2011
83 posts
If you need proof that there is divinity in language...
…learn to swear in Hindi.
April 2011
27 posts
Play
Zatanna by Bill Sienkiewicz
Beautiful portrait
Zatanna is visually my favorite character. Bill Sienkiewicz is one of my favorite artists. This can’t not be awesome.
A Map of Reginapolis →
naifpanicscares.tumblr.com
“When i get a bit down i put on my frog underwear and go look for treasures in the pavement. i sometimes find ancient bottle caps, but sometimes just baseball caps.
New York is bigger than a pirate ship, the sun makes everything look like gold and silver. But it’s just a…
http://www.thebaybridged.com/2011/04/27/april-2011-thao-mirah/ →
thebaybridged.com
Live session from Thao & Mirah. In so many ways, I can’t believe these two are collaborating. It’s… hyper-excellent?
Circe and the Hanged Man
Sarah Kirkland Snider / Shara Worden / Signal
Title: Circe and the Hanged Man
Artist: Sarah Kirkland Snider and Signal, ft. Shara Worden
Album: Penelope
Composer: Sarah Kirkland Snider/Ellen McLaughlin
Genre: Chamber
Easily my favorite song off Penelope, the musical collaboration between Sarah Snider and Shara Worden of My Brightest Diamond, “Circe and Hanged Man” is an inside-out look at the dangers of introspection and the hazards of being a traveler.
Here begins...
… a procession of the damned.
By the damned, I mean the excluded.
We shall have a procession of data that Science has excluded.
Battalions of the accursed, captained by pallid data that I have exhumed, will march. You’ll read them—or they’ll march. Some of them livid and some of them fiery and some of them rotten.
Some of them are corpses, skeletons, mummies, twitching, tottering, animated by companions that have been damned alive. There are giants that will walk by, though sound asleep. There are things that are theorems and things that are rags: they’ll go by like Euclid arm in arm with the spirit of anarchy. Here and there will flit little harlots. Many are clowns. But many are of the highest respectability. Some are assassins. There are pale stenches and gaunt superstitions and mere shadows and lively malices: whims and amiabilities. The naïve and the pedantic and the bizarre and the grotesque and the sincere and the insincere, the profound and the puerile.
A stab and a laugh and the patiently folded hands of hopeless propriety.
The ultra-respectable, but the condemned, anyway.
The aggregate appearance is of dignity and dissoluteness: the aggregate voice is a defiant prayer: but the spirit of the whole is processional.
The power that has said to all these things that they are damned, is Dogmatic Science.
But they’ll march.
—Charles Fort, 1919
Pushkin has taught me a love for epigrams, and frankly, it seems as though something that begins with Charles Fort cannot be all bad.
