The universe as it really is.

from here.

“Truth is something which can’t be told in a few words. Those who simplify the universe only reduce the expansion of its meaning.”

-Anais Nin.

and

“It is far better to grasp the universe as it really is than to persist in delusion, however satisfying and reassuring.”

-Carl Sagan.

Freaky.

Just discovered this video for whoever or whatever this group is. Warning: Watching this will make you angry.

…as it should. This is some real shit right here. It’s shocking to watch it just because I’ve gotten so used to things that are “ironically bad” or still have merit in their bad-ness. Been a long time since I watched/listened to something that just raped my ears, eyes, and neurons.

Crunkcore? No thanks.

Apologies.

The Post-Modern Prometheus, part three: The Year Without A Summer.

This past summer, for me at least, has been brutal, heat-wise. Just a scorcher, for the most part. But it’s been getting cooler for weeks now, and the fall is definitely starting to come upon us. But still, in these few seasonally transformative weeks, it’s not hard to remember the heat. So much so that in talking about it with someone the other day, they said to me, “Man, I’d kill for a year, just one year, without the summer heat, you know?”

That got me thinking about 1816, the actual year that’s been called “The Year Without A Summer.” The previous April, Mount Tambora in Indonesia erupted, and caused not online one of the largest eruptions in something like 1,600 years but also lead to a volcanic winter type event, coupled with low solar activity. This lead to mostly continuous grim, ashy weather and continuous rainfall mostly in Europe but around the rest of the world too, which then lead to massive crop failures worldwide.

But where crops die, in the darkness, art is born.

Sunrise With Sea Monsters, 1845, Joseph Mallrod William Turner, an artist many believe was heavily inspired by the “year without a summer.”

I especially think about this because it’s the “The Year Without A Summer” and the nonstop rains that ruined the July vacation that year of Lord Byron, Mary Shelley (then still Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin, I believe), Percy Bysshe Shelley, John Polidori, and Claire Claremont outside of Geneva. The group of excited young artists and being with too much time on their hands were mostly forced indoors and left with only their imaginations. And from their imaginations came a challenge: A contest to see who could write the scariest story? From that we got Polidori’s The Vampyre and, of course, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus, and Lord Byron’s poem “Darkness” as well, though it’s not a “scary story” exactly, but is definitely inspired by the weather events of that year) and history went to a whole other place.

And we’ll continue with more on Mary Shelley and Frankenstein soon…

from here.

Dirty hands, dirty minds, dirty future.

from here.

The “FREE POLANSKI” movement and members.

Speaking of which: Some thoughts for rape apologists.

NBC to air it’s Day One as a miniseries.

Paul Pope, Frank Herbert’s Dune, and the warning of charismatic heroes.

Letterman has sexual relationship with several members of his staff, then someone tries to extort $2 million from or face exposure.

Re-experience the dirty passion of Dirty Dancing

…and The Dirty Projectors.

Dirty Diana,” Dirty Jobs, and “Dirty Love.”

DNA and telepathy.

Ricky Gervais, religion, and The Invention Of Lying.

The one change in the adaptation of Where The Wild Things Are that Maurice Sendak had reservations about.

The age of telekinetic cyborg monkeys is upon us.

from here.