'Pink Roses in a Vase' (1838) by Pierre Joseph Redouté (French, 1759 - 1840).
Watercolour and gouache on vellum.
Courtesy National Gallery of Art.

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'Pink Roses in a Vase' (1838) by Pierre Joseph Redouté (French, 1759 - 1840).
Watercolour and gouache on vellum.
Courtesy National Gallery of Art.

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Most discussions of culture in India, as they take place in academic circles and the dominant media, tend to confuse ‘culture’ with ‘civilization’ and civilization with ‘religion’. These discussions then prepare the ground for identifying the essence of Indian culture with Brahminical classicism. Hinduism remains the centre of gravity in these confusions of culture, civilization and religion. Christianity, which has an older presence in India than most smriti literature, is rarely regarded as an intrinsic part of this all-Indic culture and is jettisoned, in the discourse of revivalist conservatism, to the domain of missionaries. Islam, which has an older presence here than most of medieval bhakti, is itself regarded as marginal and additional. The very terms of this debate, with their extraordinary orientation toward the past, pave the way, objectively speaking, for a revivalist and even fascist kinds of cultural nationalism, since the culturalist claims of an organised religion in the context of modern politics, where religion gets intermeshed in cultural nationalism, almost always conceal very high degree of violence against those who stand outside the charmed circle of this religiously defined cultural nationalism.
Aijaz Ahmad, The Politics of Culture
Life in Hell (1977-2012) Matt Groening

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mao zedong, on practice
Since the start of 2026, the civil defence in Gaza cannot pay wages for its workers who received only 656 USD since then. How can someone live 7 months on this amount? The European Union and so-called human rights organisations treat civil sectors employees of Gaza as Hamas and never fund their efforts in any capacity which imperils them and their lives, as we have seen in the systematic targeting of these civil servants. I have also been told by sources on the ground that one police member earns only 325 USD in three months. Police members have been conflated with Hamas to justify murdering them. They have been the subject of one of the most brutal terror campaigns falsely labelled as Hamas. Help civil rights to flourish in Gaza. Donate to the Gaza municipality to keep its indispensable operations going for people. Share and donate now: gaza-city.org/campaign/1
It takes a little bit of effort but it should be possible to send money through your banking app. The SWIFT code and all details are in the link above.
This is urgent because Israel has planned to shut down Gaza banks in August.
Crab tureen - porcelain - artists in Jingdezhen, China - 1736-95
Cildo Meireles Entrevendo, 1970/ remade in 1994
“No.2 Shengshan Island Village” ~ Shengshan Island, China by Guo Guozhu ↟ What happens when we leave and nature stays?

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By Panamanian photographer Sandra Eleta, "The Angel, Luz", 1970s,
Beaches in Magellan (2025 🇵🇭), dir. Lav Diaz
Cinematography by Lav Diaz & Artur Tort
And speaking of Sophia Tolstoy, her diaries are just so depressing.
“I am to gratify his pleasure and nurse his child, I am a piece of household furniture, I am a woman. I try to suppress all human feelings. When the machine is working properly it heats the milk, knits a blanket, makes little requests and bustles about trying not to think […].“
She wrote this when she was 19, one year into her marriage to Leo and as she was pregnant with the first of his 13 children.
A few years later, when she was 25 or so:
“I am so often alone with my thoughts that the need to write in my diary comes quite naturally … Now I am well again and not pregnant—it terrifies me how often I have been in that condition. He said that for him being young meant “I can achieve anything”. For me […] reason tells me that there is nothing I either want or can do beyond nursing, eating, drinking, sleeping, and loving and caring for my husband and babies, all of which I know is happiness of a kind, but why do I feel so woeful all the time, and weep as I did yesterday? I am writing this now with the pleasantly exciting sense that nobody will ever read it, so I can be quite frank with myself […].“
During her 12th pregnancy she wrote about taking scalding baths and jumping from high pieces of furniture to try and miscarry. And at one point while reading her husband’s diary (which he told her to read) she found the sentence “There is no such thing as love, only the physical need for intercourse and the practical need for a life companion.” In her own diary she wrote “They ebb and flow like waves, these times when I realise how lonely I am and want only to cry…”
A few years before her husband’s death, she published a cycle of prose poems titled “Groans”, under the pseudonym “A Tired Woman”.
the most depressing quote from her diaries:
“I have served a genius for almost forty years. Hundreds of times I have felt my intellectual energy stir within me and all sorts of desires - a longing for education, a love of music and the arts… And time and again I have crushed and smothered these longings… Everyone asks, “But why should a worthless woman like you need an intellectual or artistic life?” To this question I can only reply: “I don’t know, but eternally suppressing it to serve a genius is a great misfortune.”
Blue Shadows #2 by Sergiu Ciochina, c. 2026
Navajo bride and groom, 1975. John Running

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A long time ago I got a book about stories of people "nostalgic for life under tyranny", basically just a chauvinistic mockery of people who speak positively about communism and especially their experience with Stalin or Fidel (two central targets of the author's anti-communist tirades)
But I took it anyway because I wanted to hear from the people the author was speaking to, and now I have been reading the Georgian women's recollections of communism, and it actually made me cry to see how miserable they had become after the capitalist restoration. The depth of love they have for socialism and Stalin and the Soviet Union is so beautiful
Some of my favourite quotes <3
"[Stalin] comes to me at night. He gazes at me, puffs on his pipe, and twirls his moustache. He smiles, and then heads for the door. Then I weep and cry for him to stay. But what guy could be bothered by a woman crying?" ... "...I have the mentality of a socialist hero of labor. When something needs to be done for society, I go and do it. I've produced a wall newspaper for the employees and classes for single mothers bringing up children on their own. In the Communist era, everyone would have respected me. But now that we have capitalism, they look at me as if I'm an idiot. So when I really can't manage anymore, I come to the museum to calm down. And I say, 'Mr. Stalin, I know you'd appreciate it.' And it helps." ... "When the war was on, they closed the museum, so I came to the park, to the statue, and I said, 'Mr. Stalin, you'd have got a firm grip on it all, and there'd be peace.' And sometimes I go and say to him, 'If you were alive, maybe we'd be together. You'd have a good time with me. I know how to cook, I'm a cheerful person, and I can sing well too.' And I fantasize about how nice it would be to be Stalin's wife. But later on I reject those thoughts, because I'm behaving like an idiot. Stalin is dead. Communism has collapsed. It's over. It's finished. Been and gone. If I dream about him when I'm feeling like that, I'm very cold and official toward him in my dream."
"When I was at college, we were still taught that Stalin was an outstanding statesman. But the system changed, the curriculum changed, and now I have to teach that he was a tyrant and a criminal. I don't think that's true. ... And before you start ranting, please let me finish. Are you feeling calmer now? All right, I'll tell you my personal opinion. I regard Stalin as a great man, but I can't say that, either to my students or to the tourists, so I say, 'Some regard him as a dictator, others as a tyrant, and others see him as a genius. What he really was, you can decide for yourselves.'"
"When I see what they've done to our beloved Stalin, my heart bleeds! How could they? How could they make such a good man into a monster, a cannibal, an ogre? Once upon a time, bus after bus came to our museum. People stood in lines several hundred yards long. I used to look at those people's faces, and I could see the goodness emanating from them. But nowadays? One would bite the other. That's capitalism for you." ... "In the morning I get up, cut a slice of bread, make the tea, sit down, and say to myself, 'O Christ, why did you let me live to see times like this? Why do they badmouth our darling Stalin?'" ... "What do we need all this capitalism for, all these American cheeses, juices, and chocolate? You can't even buy normal milk anymore—it has to be in a carton, because that's how it is in America. I think, 'O Christ, take me off to my dear Stalin. Take me away from this world, because I can't bear it here any longer.'"
"I used to work at a clothing factory. In the personnel department too. When the Soviet Union collapsed, the factory collapsed with it. And everything was looted—even the glass was stolen out of the window frames. In Stalin's day something like that wouldn't have been possible. The culprits would have been punished. So these days when I hear the stories they tell about him, I say, 'People, you've lost your minds. Remember the Soviet Union. Everyone had work. The children had a free education. From Tbilisi to Vladivostok.' If it weren't for Communism, I, for example, would still be living in the countryside. I would never have thought of occupying a managerial position, because only men had those jobs before then. No system has ever given women so much. Since its collapse, everything is worse." ... "And life gets worse and worse for women. In the USSR men had a good life. There were no wars. And if a man hit you, you could go and complain to the party committee. The committee informed the party cell at the factory, and the abuser could get into big trouble. These days the men have no work and they're frustrated. And when one of them hits you, you've no one to defend you." ... "Something of [Stalin's] charm remains to this day. Sometimes when I stop at his death mask, I only have to glance at it, and it sends such a shiver down my spine that I have to go outside into the fresh air for a while."
every friend group has a corpse in it. if you think yours doesn't, YOU'RE the corpse.