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@amberraysofdawn
it takes me like 3 days to wake up in the morning
oh my god
fucking fandom references
WHAT FANDOM? THE JESUS FANDOM?
THEY PREFER THE TERM CHRISTIANITY
This is the post that killed me
This is the post that killed him.
IT GOT BETTER
Happy Easter!
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Andrew Gosden: Missing from Doncaster (South Yorkshire) since September 14, 2007 Have you seen him? Do you know him? http://thndr.me/p35ZDS
honestly besides the romance my favorite part of pride and prejudice has to be how much of a complete Disaster the bennet family is,,,,,,,like mr bennet is sarcastic af and never tells his family anything until like the hour before it happens (“btw ur cousin that you’ve never even met before and who could throw ur asses out on the streets one day is coming for dinner at 4”),,,,,mrs bennet is the total Can I Speak To The Manager mom who always threatens to pass out even if she’s never passed out once in her entire life,,,,lydia practically stalks military men and was once voted most likely to run away from home forever for a laugh,,,,,kitty would probably burn the house down if lydia told her it was a good idea,,,,,mary is the epitome of that one person who memorizes only six lines from a textbook and says “knowledge is power” for three days after,,,,,,,,jane would practically apologize to someone who was stabbing her,,,,and im almost 1000% sure that elizabeth has at least once stood up on the dining room table and yelled at her family “fight me then” when she’s angry,,,,,,literally the original sitcom family
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So, when I have nervous breakdowns, I stay indoors for days and do projects. This is my most recent thing. I borrowed a copy of Folland’s Real Analysis from my guy. It’s over 100 bucks to purchase from Wiley & Sons, and the binding is SO BAD that all the pages start falling out immediately. Also, it’s free as a PDF. But, anyway, this one was already purchased, and my guy gave me permission to do this to it:
And this:
And a little bit of this and this:
So that it would be like this now:
I’m waiting for the corner protectors to come in to cover up some not-quite-excellent corner work, but all in all I’m very happy about this new hobby. Rebinding books is a seriously valuable skill for a person in academia. I’m about to make some printed, older-edition-of-textbooks-that-are-out-of-copyright PDFs look SO GOOD, heck yes.
Oops I did the thing again to My New Favorite Book
(Image descriptions: a series of photos showing the progress of rebinding a textbook in very fancy-looking hardback, with red-shading-into-black alligator-skin-looking covers. The last picture shows a different textbook bound, also very fancily, in embossed brown leather.)
@zarkonnen, look! It’s your maths textbooks as grimoires idea in real life!
Sitting here working on revising my next novel in my own place, surrounded by my own stuff, with a glass of bourbon on the coffee table, one of my favorite records on the stereo, and my dog happily chewing a bone, and it just occurred to me that this time three years ago I was so broke I couldn’t buy groceries, working four jobs, renting a room in someone else’s house, writing my first novel between shifts, while sitting on the floor because I didn’t have the space or the money for a fucking chair, never mind a desk. So, this is just a friendly reminder that if things are grim right now, that does not mean they’ll stay that way. Sometimes you gotta live on Cheerios and work a minimum-wage job (or four) for a while so that down the road a ways you can do something you care about and spend $50 on groceries without your heart rate tripling at the register. Hard times are just that: times. They’re not interminable. Eat those off-brand Cheerios and hang in there.
CONFESSION:
I thought it would’ve been a cool game mechanic that if your inquisitor drank from the well of sorrows, every now and again you hear faint, unintelligible whispering wherever you go. It’s sort of like a small side effect of drinking from the well, because now that character holds all the ancient knowledge that was within it- so why not hear voices all the time? I just thought it would’ve been a cool effect and added another layer of depth to the game.
pete’s twitter, 8/12/17
Tag yourself, I’m Timmy. (via localhotdad)
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you want a physicist to speak at your funeral.
You want a physicist to speak at your funeral. You want the physicist to talk to your grieving family about the conservation of energy, so they will understand that your energy has not died. You want the physicist to remind your sobbing mother about the first law of thermodynamics; that no energy gets created in the universe, and none is destroyed. You want your mother to know that all your energy, every vibration, every Btu of heat, every wave of every particle that was her beloved child remains with her in this world. You want the physicist to tell your weeping father that amid energies of the cosmos, you gave as good as you got.
And at one point you’d hope that the physicist would step down from the pulpit and walk to your brokenhearted spouse there in the pew and tell him that all the photons that ever bounced off your face, all the particles whose paths were interrupted by your smile, by the touch of your hair, hundreds of trillions of particles, have raced off like children, their ways forever changed by you. And as your widow rocks in the arms of a loving family, may the physicist let her know that all the photons that bounced from you were gathered in the particle detectors that are her eyes, that those photons created within her constellations of electromagnetically charged neurons whose energy will go on forever.
And the physicist will remind the congregation of how much of all our energy is given off as heat. There may be a few fanning themselves with their programs as he says it. And he will tell them that the warmth that flowed through you in life is still here, still part of all that we are, even as we who mourn continue the heat of our own lives.
And you’ll want the physicist to explain to those who loved you that they need not have faith; indeed, they should not have faith. Let them know that they can measure, that scientists have measured precisely the conservation of energy and found it accurate, verifiable and consistent across space and time. You can hope your family will examine the evidence and satisfy themselves that the science is sound and that they’ll be comforted to know your energy’s still around. According to the law of the conservation of energy, not a bit of you is gone; you’re just less orderly. Amen.
Imagine My Immortal but written in the style of Shakespeare.
SCENE 1. A MAGIC SCHOOL CALLED HOGWARTS IN ENGLAND
Enter ENOBY
ENOBY
For truth, that which the gods have christened me Has many parts, like these locks, flow’n from my crown. That hellish sound, which forms mine name, sprung from The dusky shades of these roots, so like the stone But broken, rent, mottled; for, like the flames That hie from Hades, the dusk is split with peals Of cold violet, the shade of icy fangs Met with military scarlet; coils not But hangs; not ragged, but lustrous, set off Like a precious jewel made more pure by the Barren winds of silent winter deserts, So are not these jewels of mine own self-crown Brought forth in splendour so close to these eyes Frozen, as glaciers, forged by an artist Who, bereft of artisan tools, gives himself And sculpts his godly business with that Which the muses draw blindly from his vision. Thus sorrow, reflected twice in these mirrors, Casting mine eyes as icy limpid tears.
Imagine Shakespeare but written in the style of My Immortal
Hi my name is Hamlet and I have long blond hair that reaches my mid-back and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like the sun god Apollo (AN: if u don’t know who he is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to him but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. My mother married my uncle after my father died. I have pale white skin. I’m also a student, and I went to a school called Wittenberg in Germany but I just graduated. I’m a prince (in case you couldn’t tell) but I wear mostly black bc I’m in mourning. I For example today I was wearing a black doublet with matching lace around it and a black tights, white undershirt and black boots. I was with my mother and Horatio. We were standing inside Elsinore. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. My uncle Claudius stared at me. I put up my middle finger at him.
lost-in-another-fantasy
WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME. DO YOU KNOW HOW BADLY WRITTEN MY IMMORTAL WAS/IS. I GOT A HEADACHE 😢😢😢😢
This is all so fucking glorious.
If Shakespeare was alive in 2017:
Someone: POLITICS and ART should always be SEPARATE! There is NO REASON why ART should be POLITICAL!
William Shakespeare: *laughs. writes 3 more tiny hand jokes into his latest play, King Tiny Hands.*
The Entire Trump Campaign Right Now:
“Did you collude with the Russians, sir?”
“I did collude, sir.”
“Did you collude with the Russians, sir?”
“Is the law on our side if I say aye?”
“No.”
“No, sir, I did not collude with the Russians, but I did collude, sir.”
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Meet Ophelia from Shakespeare’s Hamlet, she is about to take her own life. This fate could have been avoided if she had a sassy gay friend.
Kenneth Branagh as Iago in Othello (1995), dir. Oliver Parker
