Nothing to See Here

Your awesome Tagline

299,828 notes

Plot Twist:
All exams got cancelled because the government finally realise that they are actually just marking your memory and not your intelligence and teenagers should be experiencing life and having a good time instead of sat revising bollocks they're not going to use in the future

1,234 notes

Back when George W. Bush was president, liberals were regularly accused of being disloyal or anti-American if they disagreed with the policies the administration was undertaking. As Bush himself said, you were either with us or with the terrorists, and as far as many of his supporters were concerned, “us” meant the Bush administration and everything they wanted to do, including invading Iraq. You may have noticed that now that there’s a Democrat in the White House, conservatives no longer find disagreeing with the government’s policies to be anti-American; in fact, the truest patriotism is now supposedly found among those whose hatred of the president, and the government more generally, burns white-hot in the core of their souls.
Uncivil Disobedience and the Opposite of Patriotism (via smdxn)

(via cognitivedissonance)

250 notes

kenobi-wan-obi:

Olafur Eliasson and the Weather Project

The subject of the weather has long shaped the content of everyday conversation. The eighteenth-century writer Samuel Johnson famously remarked ‘It is commonly observed, that when two Englishmen meet, their first talk is of the weather; they are in haste to tell each other, what each must already know, that it is hot or cold, bright or cloudy, windy or calm.’

In The Weather Project, the fourth in the annual Unilever Series of commissions for the Turbine Hall, Olafur Eliasson takes this ubiquitous subject as the basis for exploring ideas about experience, mediation and representation.

In this installation, The Weather Project, representations of the sun and sky dominate the expanse of the Turbine Hall. A fine mist permeates the space, as if creeping in from the environment outside.

Throughout the day, the mist accumulates into faint, cloud-like formations, before dissipating across the space. A glance overhead, to see where the mist might escape, reveals that the ceiling of the Turbine Hall has disappeared, replaced by a reflection of the space below. At the far end of the hall is a giant semi-circular form made up of hundreds of mono-frequency lamps.

The arc repeated in the mirror overhead produces a sphere of dazzling radiance linking the real space with the reflection. Generally used in street lighting, mono-frequency lamps emit light at such a narrow frequency that colours other than yellow and black are invisible, thus transforming the visual field around the sun into a vast duotone landscape.

(Source: olafureliasson.net, via scinerds)

Filed under this has been my favorite for a v long time

65,522 notes

pansiesrosemaryviolence:

"aesthetic" is a very good word, important word. "i love the fifties." no you don’t the fifties kinda TOTALLY SUCKED for many human beings in America. "i love fifties aesthetic" well then, awesome. go you with your bright blocks of color and cute skirts and mini jackets and hair poufs. 

(via cognitivedissonance)

530,925 notes

coldswarkids:

edwardspoonhands:

thelegendofkungjew:

doxian:

d-dinosaur:

rknjl:

newvagabond:

NO “TELEPHONES”. TALK TO EACH OTHER. FACE TO FACE ONLY. WRITE A LETTER. SEND A TELEGRAM TO YOUR MOM. PRETEND IT’S 1860. LIVE.

NO ‘WRITING’… TALK TO EACH OTHER. THROW A ROCK AT YOUR MOM. PRETEND IT’S 10,000 BCE.  LIVE.

URGGA. ROU GRAAURH. RUH.
<SMACKS HANDS ON WALL WITH PAINT.>

NO ‘HIGHER BRAIN FUNCTIONS’ …USE YOUR REPTILIAN BRAIN
EAT YOUR MOM’S CORPSE SHE DIED TO PROVIDE YOU WITH SUSTENANCE
PRETEND YOU HAVE JUST AROSE FROM THE SEA
SURVIVE

NO “MULTICELLULAR TRAITS”….. USE YOUR SYMBIOTIC MITOCHONDRIA
REPRODUCE ASEXUALLY, YOU’RE YOUR OWN PARENT
PRETEND IT’S 2BYA
EVOLVE

NO “LIFE.” USE FUNDAMENTAL PHYSICAL FORCES TO FORM SPHERICAL OBJECTS REVOLVING AROUND ONE ANOTHER IN SPACE. 
FUSE HYDROGEN INTO HELIUM USING GRAVITATIONAL PRESSURE TO PRODUCE HEAT AND LIGHT. 
PRETEND IT’S 4.5BYA.
STABILIZE INTO EQUILIBRIA

NO “MATTER”.  EXIST IN THE VOID WITHOUT PURPOSE OR MEANING.
THERE IS NO “YOU”, ONLY THE VAST CONCEPT OF NOTHING.
TIME DOES NOT EXIST.
BE.

coldswarkids:

edwardspoonhands:

thelegendofkungjew:

doxian:

d-dinosaur:

rknjl:

newvagabond:

NO “TELEPHONES”. TALK TO EACH OTHER. FACE TO FACE ONLY. WRITE A LETTER. SEND A TELEGRAM TO YOUR MOM. PRETEND IT’S 1860. LIVE.

NO ‘WRITING’… TALK TO EACH OTHER. THROW A ROCK AT YOUR MOM. PRETEND IT’S 10,000 BCE.  LIVE.

URGGA. ROU GRAAURH. RUH.

<SMACKS HANDS ON WALL WITH PAINT.>

NO ‘HIGHER BRAIN FUNCTIONS’ …USE YOUR REPTILIAN BRAIN

EAT YOUR MOM’S CORPSE SHE DIED TO PROVIDE YOU WITH SUSTENANCE

PRETEND YOU HAVE JUST AROSE FROM THE SEA

SURVIVE

NO “MULTICELLULAR TRAITS”….. USE YOUR SYMBIOTIC MITOCHONDRIA

REPRODUCE ASEXUALLY, YOU’RE YOUR OWN PARENT

PRETEND IT’S 2BYA

EVOLVE

NO “LIFE.” USE FUNDAMENTAL PHYSICAL FORCES TO FORM SPHERICAL OBJECTS REVOLVING AROUND ONE ANOTHER IN SPACE. 

FUSE HYDROGEN INTO HELIUM USING GRAVITATIONAL PRESSURE TO PRODUCE HEAT AND LIGHT. 

PRETEND IT’S 4.5BYA.

STABILIZE INTO EQUILIBRIA

NO “MATTER”.  EXIST IN THE VOID WITHOUT PURPOSE OR MEANING.

THERE IS NO “YOU”, ONLY THE VAST CONCEPT OF NOTHING.

TIME DOES NOT EXIST.

BE.

(Source: agirlandhisplatypus, via christinefriar)

5,273 notes

christinefriar:

Imagine having a daughter.
Imagine the first positive pregnancy test, a CVS-brand in your office bathroom because you’re probably just paranoid and it’s probably nothing, and seeing the plus sign. Calling the doctor, making the real appointment. You’re eight weeks along.
Imagine months of watching your skin stretching. Sonograms. Sharing your food, your blood, your oxygen with another person sitting in your midsection and not paying rent. Feeling the first kick. Puking on your morning commute. Sitting down for a night of TV and watching a tiny elbow press out against your skin. Getting used to it, kind of. Thinking of names.
Imagine childbirth. Imagine a pair of human shoulders passing through your junk and imagine pooping on a table in front of a room full of people while you cry, but none of it mattering because here is this person you’ve been dying to meet. To touch. To see blink back.
Then imagine your daughter growing up to actively participate in the Instagram romance tag.
What a fart into infinity. What a pube tumbleweed on a bathroom floor.

christinefriar:

Imagine having a daughter.

Imagine the first positive pregnancy test, a CVS-brand in your office bathroom because you’re probably just paranoid and it’s probably nothing, and seeing the plus sign. Calling the doctor, making the real appointment. You’re eight weeks along.

Imagine months of watching your skin stretching. Sonograms. Sharing your food, your blood, your oxygen with another person sitting in your midsection and not paying rent. Feeling the first kick. Puking on your morning commute. Sitting down for a night of TV and watching a tiny elbow press out against your skin. Getting used to it, kind of. Thinking of names.

Imagine childbirth. Imagine a pair of human shoulders passing through your junk and imagine pooping on a table in front of a room full of people while you cry, but none of it mattering because here is this person you’ve been dying to meet. To touch. To see blink back.

Then imagine your daughter growing up to actively participate in the Instagram romance tag.

What a fart into infinity. What a pube tumbleweed on a bathroom floor.

(via snapchatting)