This is one of my favourite prints ever ever, I believe it’s from a lithograph plate. I found it in a wonderful collection of Addams prints that Joseph owns. I’m not quite sure why I loved this one more than any other (like one with an Addams family member in it), but the atmosphere is incredible.
“I’m sorry, sonny. We’ve run out of candy.” by Charles/ Chas Addams
Vesuvius is angry. She frowns down at us, burping fire from her hellish mouth. She is Christ’s wife, ready, burning, to avenge his life. She shoots spies; small clever flakes with fiery tails that settle. The spies are on all of us, a deadly blanket; on our smouldering rooftops, in the fields, and burying like worms into our skin.
She is everywhere, there is no escape.
Some said the spies will crawl up our noses and down our throats to squeeze our heavy hearts, suffocating us from the inside. I believed this, but as I sit here waiting for the end I realise their purpose is far worse. Scalding us, we must be punished for our wrongs. Let us be covered, let us be cooked from the inside. It’s time to face our fate.
There are two types of believers; the ones that think she will protect us, that this is our warning, that we must behave. Then there are the others, like me, who know it is simply too late.
Violet Dahl
Corsetry (Taken with instagram)
‘Earlybird’ filter. I got up at 12:30 today. Schwing. (Taken with instagram)
There is a blue canary in my loft. It whistles like a man, and for that matter, pants like one too. My wife and I fall into bed each night, and pull the heavy quilts over our heads to warm us quicker. We kiss gently, a soft flutter on the lips, one each, for the other. Then we settle into our sides. The bed is shaped like two gutters, to hold each of us, without passion- prisoners inside flesh.
Our marriage produced no children, and by now I’m certain it must be impossible for Jean to harbour life. Our marriage is barren, childless, but it wasn’t always sexless. We married young, too young, in the sixties. Our love was, as clichéd as it sounds, free. Jean’s hair was long enough to sit on and she lived in pastel dresses. I loved my bell-bottoms, and made my own tie-dye shirts. Those were the days when you could go for a meal and heart-shaped tabs were the aperitif. Those were the days when we couldn’t stop touching each other. Those were the days before Jean’s pregnancy scares, before our worries, before the abortion that left us without.
The blue canary has started rustling and scraping recently; trying to scrape through the ceiling, to get my attention. A hole has appeared above my side of the bed. Sometimes I spot one of his eyes watching me; an astoundingly brilliant azure, streaked with lightning bolts of yellow. When I pretend not to notice him looking I hear him mewing like a kitten, desperate and alone.
My wife says she cannot hear him, but I think she has stopped listening.
Violet Dahl
Ideas
![the-star-stuff:
What’s In a Number: Unravelling a Multiversal Paradox
“Since there is an infinite number of alternative universes, there must be one in which there isn’t an infinite number of alternative universes. Perhaps this is the one.”
This seemingly paradoxical observation comes from a reader of New Scientist, via Sally Adee — an editor at the magazine and regular contributor at Last Word on Nothing. She forwarded it to Richard Panek (a science writer and fellow LWON-blogger) because, she said, “it kind of made [her] head asplode.”
After receiving reassurances from Adee that her head hadn’t actually spontaneously detonated, Panek sat and thought and tried to find the flaw in the statement’s logic. Here’s what he came up with.
“Negative Multiverse” by Casperium via DeviantART](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m2e5bisyDk1qe649zo1_500.jpg)
What’s In a Number: Unravelling a Multiversal Paradox
“Since there is an infinite number of alternative universes, there must be one in which there isn’t an infinite number of alternative universes. Perhaps this is the one.”
This seemingly paradoxical observation comes from a reader of New Scientist, via Sally Adee — an editor at the magazine and regular contributor at Last Word on Nothing. She forwarded it to Richard Panek (a science writer and fellow LWON-blogger) because, she said, “it kind of made [her] head asplode.”
After receiving reassurances from Adee that her head hadn’t actually spontaneously detonated, Panek sat and thought and tried to find the flaw in the statement’s logic. Here’s what he came up with.
“Negative Multiverse” by Casperium via DeviantART
Want all of them please?
(Source: youmustcreate, via morbidlyfabulous)
Literally amazing.
