“Artists instinctively want to reflect humanity, their own and each other’s, in all its intermittent virtue and vitality, frailty and fallibility.”
(Source: zanemalicks, via tempestuous-tugboat)
The Horrifying Black Magic of the Necropants
Faced with natural disasters, constant coastal pirate raids, and a crushing class system that left all but the richest citizens living in stone huts, the Icelandic peasants of the 17th century led a hard life. Many of the people turned to witchcraft as a last resort to improve their wretched lives. At Strandagaldur, the museum of Icelandic sorcery & witchcraft, these times of magic and fear are remembered in often shocking detail. The most shocking and horrifying display at the museum are the “necropants”.
The necropants are the dried skin of a man from the waist down. The disgusting skin leggings were the main component of a ritual that was said to bring the person who completed the spell unlimited wealth. However, the requirements of the spell were so incredibly unbelievable that it’s hard to fathom anyone actually completing this.
First, the sorcerer must make a pact with a friend that he can skin the friend’s body from the waist down after the friend dies of natural causes. Once the friend is dead, the magician must wait until the friend has been buried, dig up the body and then skin the lower half of the corpse without creating any holes or tears. Once the necropants have been created, the person completing the ritual must actually wear them against their own bare skin.
Next, the ritual requires that the sorcerer steal a coin from a destitute widow and place it in the empty scrotum of the pants along with the magical Icelandic stave (symbol), Nábrókarstafur, written on a scrap of parchment. The pants soon become indistinguishable from the wearer’s body and, so long as the original coin was not removed, the scrotum would continue to miraculously fill with coins until the skin pants are removed.
"We are the girls with anxiety disorders, filled appointment books, five-year plans. We take ourselves very, very seriously. We are the peacemakers, the do-gooders, the givers, the savers. We are on time, overly prepared, well read, and witty, intellectually curious, always moving… We pride ourselves on getting as little sleep as possible and thrive on self-deprivation. We drink coffee, a lot of it. We are on birth control, Prozac, and multivitamins… We are relentless, judgmental with ourselves, and forgiving to others. We never want to be as passive-aggressive as our mothers, never want to marry men as uninspired as our fathers… We are the daughters of the feminists who said, “You can be anything,” and we heard, “You have to be everything."
“Surviving death, separated by time, tests the bonds of love. The moment I saw her, I knew the bravest love is born again with each new day. The kind of love that makes the mundane marvel, that bewilders with its magnificence until fate’s cruel hand intervened and in the blink of an eye, Katrina was lost to me.”
This bit was my favorite bit.
(Source: enchantedadieu, via cleolinda)
YOU GUYS. There is a song with my name in it. AND I actually like it. #ofrabjousday
"Why is the Nobel Prize in Literature almost always given to a novelist, never a scientist? Why should we prefer our literature to be about things that didn’t happen? Wouldn’t, say, Steven Pinker be a good candidate for the literature prize?"
Richard Dawkins in this interview [New York Times]
Why should we prefer our food to be made out of things that aren’t computers. Isn’t it about time we began eating computers? Why can’t more dogs talk? And of the dogs that do talk, why are so many of them fictional? Shouldn’t, say, Steven Pinker’s dog begin talking? Throw off the yoke of superstition.
Furthermore, why can’t I have a car that has wheels that roll sideways? And why can’t Iron Man beat Goku? What if, say, Steven Pinker designed Tony Stark’s armor? What if I could fly? What if teeth were made of pineapples? Makes you think.
dawkins is the punchline of a bad joke
from the same interview:
Huxley’s descriptive powers rival Steinbeck’s, with the added subtlety that her metaphors and imagery are drawn from the Kikuyu mind. The pasture “gleamed like a parrot’s wing.” A felled tree “tottered like a drunken elder.”
somehow i always thought east of eden had somewhat better descriptions. and writing.
is he fucking kidding
we have nobel prizes for science
many of them
I just feel like making a meme that says “You Know Nothing, Richard Dawkins.”
Why…why does Richard Dawkins keep coming out with stuff like this? It’s like someone set him to “MEANINGLESS CONTROVERSY” and shook him up until a bunch of random words came spewing out.
Still a soldier. Man of honor in a den of thieves.
"I aim to misbehave," indeed.
True story: “Out of Gas” was the first time I ever went looking for who wrote an episode of television.
And suddenly I need to re-watch Firefly.