innercurtain:

the Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Frederick Ruysch byJan van Neck (1683). detail

innercurtain:

the Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Frederick Ruysch byJan van Neck (1683). detail

The Raven read by James Earl Jones

So. Magic. What’s it all about, then? I wonder what you were after when you go into the game. It’s usually something. Something specific that you think is worth taking risks for. Money. Sex. Revenge. Power. Enlightenment. Thinner thighs in thirty days. It’s a long time ago for most of you, I know. Maybe you don’t remember. Fuck, maybe you don’t even want to. But I’ll tell you something for free. At rock bottom, it’s always about the same thing. It’s always about entropy. The Universe is winding down. Things fall apart. The moving finger writes, and what it writes is “Tough shit.” You can’t get something for nothing. Like God said to Adam when he kicked him out of the garden, “Now you’ve got to work for a living.” If there ever was a free lunch, it ended right there. So we push and we pull and we sweat. Putting in a shit-load of energy to get a little back. Third Law of Thermodynamics, right? The one we all love to hate. Cheers. But with magic, it’s different. Or it could be. Case in point — this fine old plonk. How did it get here? Grapes had to ripen. Peasants had to toil. Some plucky kid in Marks and Sparks had to zip a long the aisles with his pricing gun. Lots of effort. Lots of energy. And once it’s gone, it’s gone. When things fall apart — they do not put themselves back together again. But if you ask a demon to bring you some wine — or jiffy some up with a spell — well, you’re cheating the taxman, aren’t you? It comes for free. No grapes. No peasants. No entropy. So here we all are, then. Chasing the earthly paradise. Trying to sneak back into Eden through the back door, because work is for mug punters. You stupid arrogant little shits. We’re not playing fire, — here we’re playing with napalm. There’s a war on and we’re whoring with the enemy for pennies. Innocent people die when we fuck up. And we fuck up all the time. Oh, don’t get me wrong. Eden’s a nice place. I was there a few months back. Left a piece of myself buried in the ground there, for reasons I won’t go into. So I can tell you, God hates our kind most especially. The cheats. The hellblazers. The collaborators. Look — this is what Heaven has to say to the likes of us.
John Constantine, Hellblazer (via elucipher)
English needs “Tsundoku,” the Japanese Word for the New Books That Pile Up on Our Shelves.  Or at least, I do.  Source

English needs “Tsundoku,” the Japanese Word for the New Books That Pile Up on Our Shelves.  Or at least, I do.  Source

SCIENCE!

iamvioletdoll:

asylum-art:

Amazing Illustrations by Artist Chiara Bautista

on facebook

Chiara Butista aka MILK is an enigmatic artist from Tucson, Arizona. Her work is insanely detailed and appears to be riddled with symbolism. Many of her subjects, which sport antlers or tentacles, are captured in chaotic, angst-ridden moments which are balanced perfectly by femininely decorated backgrounds and cartoonish animal friends. You could scour these images for hours and still find new details every time you revisit them. His work is rich with symbolism inspired cephalopods, falling planes, deer, piercing arrows, wounds,  teddy bears and drugs which may be as much a symbol for obsessive love.

This is just precious. I adore it.

Cabinets of Curiosity: the Web as Wunderkammer
Sort of my original idea for this tumblr, hence its name.

Cabinets of Curiosity: the Web as Wunderkammer

Sort of my original idea for this tumblr, hence its name.

Damn those Thai insurance commercials onion ninjas.