digital ephemera, ceramics, jesus, gay porn
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Elevator racing isn't for everyone. Hollywood movies make it look like it's just a matter of getting in there and pushing the right buttons until you win. They miss all the strategy. The camaraderie. The intense, sweaty moments where you're heading to the top floor, getting real close to overspeed, and can't remember exactly what flywheel weights you put into the brake governors.
I started like a lot of other people do: being afraid of elevators in tall buildings. Couple lurching stops as a kid at the department store is all it took to put the fear in me. That, and a very overzealous imagination. It's easy, when you don't know anything, to imagine falling to your death in a darkened elevator shaft. Tried to stay on the third floor, tops. Changed dentists when he moved to the fifth floor of the Cascadian Promenade downtown.
Back then, I hesitate to admit, I'd even take the stairs. Getting my steps, I'd tell my coworkers. Show them my glittering, buzzing smartwatch, its screen throbbing with RGB-firework satisfaction with my amount of physical toil for the morning. Gotta get my steps. Of course, this was a bold lie to cover my fear of the unnatural world, just like all physical fitness is. Nowadays, the most walking I do at the big tournaments is to go on the podium to accept my trophy.
So how did I get from that pitiful state of fearing mortality to the vertical-movement-competition champion you see before you today? Again, Hollywood would tell you I pushed the right buttons. And they're half right. The secret to a true elevator racer is that one morning where you wonder what the "speed" setting does on a laptop left carelessly behind by the Otis guy.
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Sculpture with rooster head, was found in a tomb at Gaochang, a Tang city on the edge of the Taklamakan Desert, 7th-10th century, Tang Dynasty, China.
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i’m still so mad about ketamine all the fucking machinegirl puppy play yak tranquilizers in a berlin warehouse bitches have been hyping this up for years and it just makes you a little dizzy and go on your phone. i can do that for FREE
#even the nickname 'horse tranquilizer' is a weird attempt to make it seem cooler#it's a cat and small dog sedative. major take benadryl with me vibes
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bring back laudanum Bring Back Laudanum BRING BACK LAUDANAM!!!!!!
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end of january affirmations
im not doing anything wrong and no one is mad at me
there must be a place for me in this world because here i am
my art doesnt suck
instagram is nothing to me
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wizard who's too lazy to name things properly and so can't ever find the incantation she's looking for bc her spellbook is full of spells called shit like 'aaaa1' and 'asdfghjk'
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I just realized that I could share this flash game ad I saved off of MySpace in like 2005 to tumblr.
It’s so important to me. It makes me feel like I’m losing my mind even after 20 years.
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obsessed with how idina always towers over everyone in these group pics when she's only 5'6"
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An Italian Girl with Doves, 1866 by Raffaello Sorbi (Italian, 1844–1931)
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they don't think i can do it. they doubt. they don't think i can achieve blessed saintliness and salvation from this world without giving up the self and the will. but they're wrong. i'm going straight to the top. the kingdom of god will be so in me that you'll say "wow she really lives in the kingdom of heaven on earth"
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There's a fine line between letting go of your fear of being cringe and accepting your genuine self completely and wholeheartedly, and becoming a completely unhinged shameless gross little feral animal, and I'm going to snort it.
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Art Deco desk top box, originally used to hold cigarettes, 1930s.
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hedgehog ash tray set by walter bosse for herta baller, 1955.
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translatology themed Seinfeld episode where Elaine goes out with a german guy who is an ardent admirer of Walter Benjamin's Task of the Translator so she starts using german idioms translated word for word into english¹. George, a strict adherent to Vermeer's Skopos Theory² ("always been a skopos guy. it's straight to the point. what's going on in hermeneutics? nobody knows! no idea, no skopos!"), makes fun of her for this but then grows a moustache and retrieves his toupé to resemble Benjamin more closely so Wilhelm will think he's in deep translatological thought when he's just looking out the window. the plan backfires, as Steinbrenner associates his new look with Trotsky³ ("shave that beard off George, we're running the Yankees here, not a newspaper!") Jerry is dating a brasilian girl who studied under Rosemary Arrojo, and is accused by Kramer of supporting monolingual regimes bc he wouldn't learn portuguese for her. However, concluding he should show more interest in her work, he tries to impress her by reading Cixous' Reading with Clarice Lispector, in reaction to which the girl breaks up with him ("she broke up with me, George! she said she wanted Cleopatra in bed, not a colonizer!" "Cleopatra?!" "Yes! Can you believe it?" "Nah, you don't have the nose for it.")⁵ Kramer misunderstands Anthropophagic Translation⁶ and thinks Newman wants to eat him.
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