befrilled and kerchiefed

unpalombaro:

anthrolology:

CINEMA 1 - U.S. military personnel watch movies on their laptops at Orgun-E Camp on November 6, 2009. (REUTERS/Bruno Domingos) #

uncertaintimes:

teenagesleuth:

Henry Darger’s studio/apartment photo: Nathan Lerner, 1972

emptythreatsoflittlelord:

pureblog:

pdvmorris:

I keep imagining another place

somewhere from one of those slighty too plausible films

but as I walk the streets of another place

I soon run out of the plausible and return

to the twists and turns of a child’s faithful terrors.

Dogged by this terrors their meat is like the comfort of a baby’s blanket

they sleep with me as I walk.

I walk awake now, no longer wishing to escape my film

But now I am trying to find the avenue to the next sequel ~ PDvMorris

Art by the great Max Ernst ( from my own scan)

uncertaintimes:

Why David Lynch Turned Down ‘Return of the Jedi’

complete video

crashinglybeautiful

uncertaintimes:

John Winston Ono Lennon (9 October 1940 – 8 December 1980)

(Kierkegaard and the Existential Philosophy) - Lev Shestov (via lapetitebaobab)

The questions you ask me, my dear Clea, are the very questions I am putting myself. I must get them a little clearer before I tidy up the last volume in which I want above all to combine, resolve and harmonize the tensions so far created. I feel I want to sound a note of… affirmation - though not in the specific terms of a philosophy or religion. It should have the curvature of an embrace, the wordlessness of a lover’s code. It should convey some feeling that the world we live in is founded in something too simple to be over-described as cosmic law - but as easy to grasp as, say, an act of tenderness, simple tenderness in the primal relation between animal and plant, rain and soil, seed and trees, man and God. A relationship so delicate that it is all too easily broken by the inquiring mind and conscience in the French sense which of course has its own rights and its own field of deployment. I’d like to think of my work simply as a cradle in which philosophy could rock itself to sleep, thumb in mouth. What do you say to this? After all, this is not simply what we most need in the world, but really what describes the state of pure process in it. Keep silent awhile, and you fee a comprehension of this act of tenderness - not power or glory: and certainly not Mercy, that vulgarity of the Jewish mind which can only imagine man as crouching under the whip. No, for the sort of tenderness I mean is utterly merciless! “A law unto itself” as we say. Of course, one must always remember that truth itself is always halved in utterance. Yet I must in this last book insist that there is hope for man, scope for man, within the boundaries of a simple law; and I seem to see mankind as gradually appropriating to itself the necessary information through mere attention, not reason, which may one day enable it to live within the terms of such an idea - the true meaning of “joy unconfined”. How could joy be anything else? This new creature we artists are hunting for will not “live” so much as, like time itself, simply “elapse”. Damn, it’s hard to say these things. Perhaps the key lies in laughter, in the Humorous God? It is after all the serious who disturb the peace of the heart with their antics - like Justine. (Wait. I must fix myself a ration of gin.)

(via uncertaintimes)

Talking Heads - Lady Don’t Mind, dir. Jim Jarmusch