this is the national anthem of my blog
almost home
Show & Tell
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
ojovivo
One Nice Bug Per Day
RMH
taylor price
Cosmic Funnies
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
🪼

Origami Around
YOU ARE THE REASON
d e v o n

@theartofmadeline
will byers stan first human second

⁂

oozey mess
Three Goblin Art
Sade Olutola
seen from United States

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seen from T1

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seen from Argentina
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@lighthouse-dreams
this is the national anthem of my blog

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mesca ulad: yeah so cu chulainn is king from traig baile to uisnech mide me: okay interesting so his territory extends down into mide? that’s cool. interesting considering that láeg might be from mide but makes sense since the sons of uisnech are considered to be from ulster so i guess it all counts and the legendary province was a lot bigger. but where the hell is traig baile? aithed emire: traig baile is at the head of slieve breag me: cool, a geographical feature! where is slieve breag google: near slane in county meath. me: … what google: leinster!! me: what me: wait lets look at uisnech again google maps:
me: what the fuck. where…. where is legendary ulster. i mean i know uisnech is meant to be in the middle of the island but i didn’t think it actually like. was… he’s king of the ulaid but his territory is entirely in modern leinster??? what the fuck.
i’m so confused
okay i consulted the maps in kinsella’s táin and i guess muirthemne goes all the way down to the boyne which is. fucking wild. still don’t know how the fuck they get as far south as uisnech tho. leinster must be so smol.
unhelpfully uisnech is not marked but. mide is and basically uisnech is right in the middle so… i guess the ulster border just keeps going down diagonally from the boyne until it hits the shannon??
in conclusion: smol leinster
old Irish territories and maps are super fickle and at times extremely cursed
this is true. a place is in ulster if it is narratively convenient for it to be in ulster. sometimes mide exists and sometimes it doesn’t because it’s a fake province. where necessary a new place will be created with the same name as another one just for the sake of convenience. there are two places called temair/tara but the texts don’t always make it clear which one they’re talking about. etc etc.
I'll be reading old Irish literature and be like "yea ok cool this is fun" and suddenly it's just,,,, "what the fuck" because some characters are apparently from 5 places at once
also the Mesca Uladh in general is just a mess akdkskdkfjff
mesca ulad: yeah so cu chulainn is king from traig baile to uisnech mide me: okay interesting so his territory extends down into mide? that’s cool. interesting considering that láeg might be from mide but makes sense since the sons of uisnech are considered to be from ulster so i guess it all counts and the legendary province was a lot bigger. but where the hell is traig baile? aithed emire: traig baile is at the head of slieve breag me: cool, a geographical feature! where is slieve breag google: near slane in county meath. me: … what google: leinster!! me: what me: wait lets look at uisnech again google maps:
me: what the fuck. where…. where is legendary ulster. i mean i know uisnech is meant to be in the middle of the island but i didn’t think it actually like. was… he’s king of the ulaid but his territory is entirely in modern leinster??? what the fuck.
i’m so confused
okay i consulted the maps in kinsella’s táin and i guess muirthemne goes all the way down to the boyne which is. fucking wild. still don’t know how the fuck they get as far south as uisnech tho. leinster must be so smol.
unhelpfully uisnech is not marked but. mide is and basically uisnech is right in the middle so… i guess the ulster border just keeps going down diagonally from the boyne until it hits the shannon??
in conclusion: smol leinster
old Irish territories and maps are super fickle and at times extremely cursed
Tenderness
Soft, red fabric wrapped tight around your arms,
and I think about where you’ve been.
Gold-framed glasses around your eyes,
and I can’t help staring.
The wind softly blowing against your hair,
and your timid smile through it all.
What do we do after this? What are we going to do when this is all done? I don’t know. I don’t know what comes after this. I feel like I’m drifting out, and you’re the only thing keeping me close to land. I know that sounds cheesy, but it’s true. Whatever comes next, I think I’ll be okay. We both will. Just don’t let me go. Grab my hand, so’s we can walk into tomorrow together.

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© Guinevere Von Sneedon
// countryside //
Daniel Groner

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Gaularfjellet
Barn Owl
Paul Hedley
(British, b. 1947. Active in France)
La Musique
Acrylic on canvas
Eye-catching. That’s how I’d describe her, anyways. And it’s not like it was an inaccurate title! She was eye-catching, with her short brown hair and her warm eyes, and her freckled cheeks. And the things she would do! She liked sliding down railings, blowing on dandelions and going to the harbor to point out the types of boats she saw. She never really cared about how she seemed. That’s one of the reasons I like her so much. I wasted so many years caring. That’s all my former company did- care. Not about anything important. Not about how the people around them feel, or how much more beautiful the sunset is when someone you love is lying on your chest and snoring. They cared about their image, and how people thought of them. And, god take me if this is a lie, I was sick to death of it. I wanted to stop caring, to let my soul loose in a pasture and let it run. That’s why I like her so much. If she ever reads this, I hope she understands how much I envy her. And how much I love her.
John ‘Old Smoke’ Morrissey, arguably the best bare-knuckle boxer of his time! He was born in County Tipperary, Ireland, and moved to New York with his family when he was a child. He grew up working in factories and iron-works, as well as getting into many a gang fight. He was tough enough to lead the entire Downtown mob in Troy, New York at one point.
He gained the name ‘Old Smoke’ when fighting with one Thomas McCann. McCann pinned Morrissey to a bed of burning coals and started to wail on him, but Morrissey knocked McCann back and continued to beat him into the ground, the smoke from the burns still coming up from his back. A bonafide badass!
Later, in the early 1850s, he went to San Francisco to try his luck at the gold rush with a whole group of Brooklyn Irish. He never got much in the way of gold, but he made a damn fine gambler, and struck his name in California boxing history.
Despite being renowned in New York, he never went professional there until later; all his New York fights were illegal bare-knuckle matches. In California, however, he stepped into the ring for the first time, and became a famous prize-fighter in his own right. He fought his way up the ranks until his ego was big enough to want to fight Yankee Sullivan, who was the premier American boxing champion.
He went back to New York and challenged Sullivan again and again, until Sullivan finally relented and gave Morrissey a shot. The articles were set and the rules were placed down. The fight was to happen nearly a week and a half after. Since the match was illegal, it was to happen in Boston Corners in Massachusetts, out of the prying eyes of the peelers.
They were posted up in a field, with an audience of supposedly 3,000 people! Sullivan seemed pretty clean cut to win for most of it. But Morrissey stood firm, and the match went on for 37 whole rounds! Unfortunately, a spat between Morrissey and Sullivan’s fans escalated, and the whole fight turned into a riot. The referee ended up giving Morrissey the match, but the actual results are lost to history; it is, however, reported that Sullivan threw a foul.
Morrissey was also responsible for murdering nationalist gang leader William ‘Bill the Butcher’ Poole via a gunshot in a bar on Broadway after Poole beat Morrissey in a match. Morrissey and two of his friends were brought to court but ultimately acquitted. Bill was kinda an asshole anyways.

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Goodbye
Can someone really walk between blades of grass?
Glancing, first, at their tops,
and staring back when they climb down to watch them pass.
Sometimes mud sinks into her shoes.
And you wonder, how many people said goodbye,
and what exactly made them choose?