Escape

(The Piña Colada Blog)
[ask] [who]

rhamphotheca:

ggwookie:  Platypus - Ornithorhynchus anatinus


THE ORNITHORHYNCHUS

rhamphotheca:

ggwookiePlatypus - Ornithorhynchus anatinus

THE ORNITHORHYNCHUS

(via cabinet-de-curiosites)

Shuggie Otis - Strawberry Letter 23

quarterpastfour:

Shuggie Otis - Strawberry Letter 23

Shuggie’s original version of the Brothers Johnson hit, off 1971’s Freedom Flight.

(via purepopfornowpeople)

bosconos:

The Cathedral of the Annunciation, Moscow, Russia

bosconos:

The Cathedral of the Annunciation, Moscow, Russia

(via cabinet-de-curiosites)

noodlenaddle:

lunapii:

babapii:

nkym:

Yan Nascimbene




Pissin in the ocean / pee in the sea

noodlenaddle:

lunapii:

babapii:

nkym:

Yan Nascimbene

Pissin in the ocean / pee in the sea

realindevelopment said: what's the paper/essay on?

It’s the final ‘examination’ / mini-dissertation for the end of my first year of grad school in education research. Mostly it seems to be about lots and lots of names and years in parentheses.

Electric Light Orchestra - Mr.Blue Sky

Almost done almost done almost done

efedra:

Fishscape, 2008 by Akiyoshi Osumi

efedra:

Fishscape, 2008 by Akiyoshi Osumi

(via noodlenaddle)

I wonder how many people in and around train stations in Yokohama realize that there are other people around them who are actively trying to go places. I think the survey data would look like this:

15% (mostly businesswomen) Obviously, this being a train station, the other people are moving purposely, and maintaining rudimentary awareness of our surroundings will help all of us arrive safely and speedily at our designations.
10% (foreigners and dudes in ill-fitting expensive clothing) Other people can worry about themselves. I’ll stop whenever and wherever I want, and change directions at whim.
40% (salarymen, groups, the middle-aged) I don’t recognize any of these people, therefor there is no reason to acknowledge their existence in the slightest.
25% (groups of students or housewives, parents accompanying children) Other people? What other people? We are alone here.
10% (the elderly) Why is this staircase moving? I think I will stand here just at the top of it for a few minutes until I figure out what city I’m in.

I dunno, seems more like the bland, white side. 

Have to wait until next payday anyway, since all of my savings just went to pay for the final 2/3 of grad school.

Bemused, bewildered, belovely

lnthefade:

Screen shot from a New York Times article.
No angel.
When I was 18, I was no angel. Hell, when I was 15, 16, 17, I was no angel. When I was 13, I stole change out of cars that were parked in the church lot for bingo night. By 14 I was smoking pot every day. I got caught shoplifting at Korvette’s and spent an hour being interrogated by security before they called my mother to pick me up. I cut holes in the pockets of my winter parka to make it easier to steal candy from 7-11. I sold joints to my fellow classmates at Holy Trinity High School. I had rough patches. I cut out of school to drink alcohol. I listened to angry and vulgar punk rock. I often got into fights with kids from the neighboring town.
So all those times when Officer Goldberg stopped me as I walking down the street and asked where I was going and what I was doing, he would be justified in shooting me because I was a troubled kid with a questionable past?
See, all those things were not relevant. Because Officer Goldberg didn’t know any of those things about me beforehand. And even if he did, they had no relevance on the fact that I happened to be walking down the street on any given evening.
Someone’s history does not always define their present. Being a “troubled” kid who once climbed over a baby gate or wrote on the walls in their house with pencils does not mean one deserves to die in a hail of bullets at the hand of a police officer. And it’s odious for anyone to imply as such, especially in a major newspaper on the day of the dead boy’s funeral.
The media suddenly seems to be in bed with the Ferguson police, posthumously trying Michael Brown for the crime of being young and black while walking in the street, bringing his past into the present. Calling him “no angel” has big implications, none of them good. 
We’re all “no angels” in one way or another. No one is perfect. No one has a past clear of any transgressions, even the smallest ones. No one should have to carry the burden of their past with them when they’re doing nothing more dangerous than walking down a street. Because Darren Wilson knew nothing about Michael Brown when he confronted him. When he killed him.
And we shouldn’t be learning these things about him now, like this. It’s unfair.

lnthefade:

Screen shot from a New York Times article.

No angel.

When I was 18, I was no angel. Hell, when I was 15, 16, 17, I was no angel. When I was 13, I stole change out of cars that were parked in the church lot for bingo night. By 14 I was smoking pot every day. I got caught shoplifting at Korvette’s and spent an hour being interrogated by security before they called my mother to pick me up. I cut holes in the pockets of my winter parka to make it easier to steal candy from 7-11. I sold joints to my fellow classmates at Holy Trinity High School. I had rough patches. I cut out of school to drink alcohol. I listened to angry and vulgar punk rock. I often got into fights with kids from the neighboring town.

So all those times when Officer Goldberg stopped me as I walking down the street and asked where I was going and what I was doing, he would be justified in shooting me because I was a troubled kid with a questionable past?

See, all those things were not relevant. Because Officer Goldberg didn’t know any of those things about me beforehand. And even if he did, they had no relevance on the fact that I happened to be walking down the street on any given evening.

Someone’s history does not always define their present. Being a “troubled” kid who once climbed over a baby gate or wrote on the walls in their house with pencils does not mean one deserves to die in a hail of bullets at the hand of a police officer. And it’s odious for anyone to imply as such, especially in a major newspaper on the day of the dead boy’s funeral.

The media suddenly seems to be in bed with the Ferguson police, posthumously trying Michael Brown for the crime of being young and black while walking in the street, bringing his past into the present. Calling him “no angel” has big implications, none of them good. 

We’re all “no angels” in one way or another. No one is perfect. No one has a past clear of any transgressions, even the smallest ones. No one should have to carry the burden of their past with them when they’re doing nothing more dangerous than walking down a street. Because Darren Wilson knew nothing about Michael Brown when he confronted him. When he killed him.

And we shouldn’t be learning these things about him now, like this. It’s unfair.

(via bluishorange)

With the same sensation of creeping horror I felt when I realize I had begun to like mayonnaise (on pizza and fries, no less), I can feel myself edging closer and closer to buying a Mac.

Electric Light Orchestra - Twilight

You would not believe how much ELO I am listening to while writing this paper.

pixography:

Salvador Dali ~ "Gala Looking At The Mediterranean Sea From A Distance O f20 MetersIs Transformed Into A Portrait Of Abraham Lincoln", 1976

pixography:

Salvador Dali ~ "Gala Looking At The Mediterranean Sea From A Distance O f20 MetersIs Transformed Into A Portrait Of Abraham Lincoln", 1976

(via cabinet-de-curiosites)

Massive Attack feat. Elizabeth Fraser - Teardrop

musicbloge:

Massive Attack feat. Elizabeth Fraser - Teardrop

Teardrop forever

(via sigh-twombly)