The Crows are Mute.

#At this point they're just feeding him prime ministers - via @copiccrow

This is why Pride is not just a party. It's a joyful celebration, but it's also a pointed and colourful two-finger salute to a world that stood back whilst so many of us died. And we'll never go quietly, never again.

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Contemplating crimes….

the club moss I got for my terrarium is dying, despite being lovingly packed into organic soil with oven-fried leaf litter and bioactive springtails and isopods, and meanwhile in my fridge my fuck ass onions are sending out bright green shoots as happy as could be in their cold dark box of fucking nothing

I'm built different. like incorrectly i think

I have no idea what about this photo speaks to me but just…their faces. They’re so sweet and soft, so full of emotion.

say what you will about the Habsburgs but I really appreciate how many of them created massive baroque synecdoches of their own neuroses. Charles V drove himself crazy trying to manage an intercontinental empire in the 1500s and then spent his final years in a monastery surrounded by clocks, obsessively trying to get all of them to tick in unison. Philip II was a meticulous and obsessively pious introvert and he turned his palace into a bureaucratic warehouse with him sitting at the top floor, correcting the grammar of his advisors’s letters like he was grading essays. Rudolf II was completely checked out of his role as emperor, obsessively collecting foreign curiosities while wars and religious revolts slowly devoured the Holy Roman Empire, just like the live lions and tigers wandering the halls of Prague Castle and attacking servants at random. All of them (the Habsburgs not the lions and tigers) had debilitating prognathism from centuries of inbreeding to keep their ‘noble blood’ (and to keep their territories consolidated), their bodies falling apart from the sheer weight of their dynastic history and endless pursuit of purity and centralization. It’s bizarrely and tragically beautiful.