Vino, chocolates y Mad Men with a good pal at ye olde casa away from casa. Happy New Year.
God of the gaps →
bestofwikipedia: God of the gaps refers to a view of God as existing in the “gaps” or aspects of reality that are currently unexplained by scientific knowledge, or that otherwise lack a plausible natural explanation. According to John Habgood in The Westminster Dictionary of Christian Theology, the phrase is generally derogatory, and is inherently a direct criticism of a tendency to postulate...
It's Full of Stars: Space Poetry. →
itsfullofstars: Skylab by Rolf Jacobsen translated by Roger Greenwald We've come so far, thought the astronaut as he swam around the capsule in his third week and by accident kicked a god in the eye --so far that there's no difference anymore between up and down, north and south, heavy and light. And how,...
Apoplectic Skeptic: two misused words →
leftyjenkins: the words “terrorist” and “hero” are thrown around all the time, with no regard to their meanings. Julian Assange is not a terrorist. suicide bombers are terrorists. fundamentalists who murder doctors in their churches are terrorists. applying the term to an enemy or an…
Tombstone tourist →
bestofwikipedia: Tombstone tourist (otherwise known as a “taphophile”, “cemetery enthusiast” or “grave hunter” or “graver”) describes an individual who travels to visit cemeteries for the enjoyment of looking at old and unusual stones or to find the graves of famous people. (via sleevia)
Bold what you did, reblog. →
I’m loud. I’m obnoxious. I’m sarcastic. I’m cocky. I cry easily. I have a bad temper. For the most part I don’t like people. (Not maliciously, but socially) I’m easy to get along with. I have more enemies than friends. I drink coffee. I clean my room daily. My appearance: I wear makeup. I wear a piece of jewellery at all times. I wear contacts. I wear glasses. I have braces. ...
Truly fertile Music, the only kind that will move us, that we shall truly...– Albert Camus (via totrulyexist)
Merry Christmas. Please ignore text below. Writing is my coping mechanism. I have been down this last week because it is my first Christmas without my mom. I’ve broken communication with her, only because interactions with her would leave me bed-ridden with fits of depression. She has been trying to regain connection with me so she could drop me off Christmas presents, but I have remained...
A Lament of Imagery--Short.
I, transfixed by distant phenomena, once stole away from my sole inspiration. I disregarded the steps in my odd journey, and now I find I am barred from my own heart-home. I cannot go back the way I have come to rediscover it; the leaves and dusts and rains have blown over the path, and I weather without grace here in this unnatural terrain. My friends the Portals and the Colours, they...
itsfullofstars: There, there, said the bell-ringer and to this side the crowd saw the usual, Chile night blue sky, a palpitation of pale stars. Others came, the ones who had never seen so far what held the sky each day and each night, and others more, others more, more surprised, and all asked, where, where? And the bell-ringer, in serious patience, pointed the starry night the same night of...
Sometimes I think we allow death to frighten us much too much. Perhaps death should not be seen as The Great Sadness, but rather The Great Celebration—whatever that means to you. Instead of “It’s a pity he died,” why not, “It’s a miracle he lived.” It’s a miracle we all have lived at all, when you really think about it. Think about it—
All of a sudden, we’ve lost a lot of control. We can’t turn off our internet; we...– Steve Wozniak (via 500daysofkissingmypillow)
I wasn’t distracted, not exactly. It wasn’t the same as not being able to pay...– I, Reader by Alexander Chee (read it all at The Morning News). (via somethingchanged)