Leonard Nimoy
occasionally subtle
Show & Tell

titsay

taylor price
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year


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Xuebing Du

oozey mess

@theartofmadeline
YOU ARE THE REASON
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todays bird

Janaina Medeiros
cherry valley forever
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

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@parreidolia
Leonard Nimoy

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the sun literally sets and casts a golden hue over everything every single day and we fucked it all up and invented paying rent

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nooo not the weight of it all lol
[Text description:
A Letter from Isaac Asimov to His Wife Janet, Written On His Deathbed.
One night, studying an egg tray in my kitchen, that first novel fell together in my mind: apes blowing blood into the air, the robot nymphs dipping their slender metal legs into an ammonia brook.
I began those flights from Earth in plywood space capsules, fleeing to a place Satan could not find. That was my hope. Getting away from the chain letters, fever, rats, and unemployment, away from the dark uncles that strayed over the globe, cutting the brake lines and loosening screws.
And as a Jew I asked myself what good are hidden things, and as a Jew I admonished myself for asking. I knew that the best things were hidden, and all of this was said in a private voice, a cousin to the one I used to speak to pets.
I am writing this under the illumination of an old American stereo. For once I don’t want to know the weather forecast. In fact, I can’t bear to hear it. The jealousy would kill me before midnight. Perhaps they will make jokes at Doubleday tomorrow. I can imagine an intern asking, “What were his last ten thousand words…”
I want to know too. From my sickbed I’ve seen cellophane rams shimmering in the yard and cardinals that look like quarts of blood balanced in the branches. The doctor calls them apparitions. Perhaps my last words will be random.
I am so drowsy, here listening to the wild dressage of a housefly, thinking about the loyal robots in my paperbacks. Thinking about the little chalet I would have built for you on Neptune.
A Neptune indiscernible from Vermont.
/end ID.]
written by David Berman (whew, I didn’t think Asimov could write quite like that)
Late night searches. A fear submitted by Jackie to Deep Dark Fears - thanks!
You can find original art in my shop!

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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This might be a weird one. My spouse had a dream that there was a new cover of “I Will Survive,” but instead of the title line, the chorus was “No Kill I,” and it was performed by a beautiful disco Horta.
I want to encourage more such dreams. Could you commemorate this vision for him?
this one was SO fun, absolutely do encourage more dreams from your spouse
The “bats can do calculus” thing is funny, because if you play around with synths for a while, you realize a lot of what humans perceive as “natural” sounds are just us directly perceiving certain complex mathematical things as big gestalt gestures. Like recognizing a multiplied wave as sounding like a woodwind. Hearing individual notes within a chord is basically Fourier analysis. Feeling how naturally a note decays is perceiving how linear or exponential the curve is. The fact that a sine wave sounds smooth but a sawtooth wave sounds nasally, and a square wave has a certain hollow fuzz to it. Is someone doing “math” there? Once you get the flavor of what each of those qualities are like, listening to the world becomes like directly perceiving math. Also, listening to birds becomes very strange. Because you realize some goofy easy weird sound you can squelch out of an analog synth is the same thing a bird is doing. Then sometimes they make a sound you can’t make. What kind of math is that bird on? Makes you wonder.

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