#VANTABLACK OR BUST

[delcat177]

Truly, all of my life has been an illusion, and I am just a human man dreamt by this little blue star in a galaxy not my own

[coughloop]

URGENTLY LOOKING FOR A ROOM I CAN VAPE IN:

Hello gay Facebook group of housing queers. I am looking for a 420 friendly apartment room I can hang out in 2 - 4 hours a day and vape in complete silence (I will be screaming but I need silence from all other residents to complete my experience). I do not have money and trade exclusively in pendants I made to depict a new catholic pantheon of neo paganistic spiritual dream stalkers and night lovers. The idea is to bring a more witchy side to the saint loving hippies in the Vatican that I think don't really understand the pressures of being a novus womano in the modern and scary world. I would like the room to have no windows, or at least be painted over with vantablack (i can byob) but this must be a room shared with someone who sleeps at night and is haunted be terrible dreams. I need the chakral energy to commune with whatever dark ichor leaks out of my busted ass cart which doesn't smell. But I might get some on your floor.

IT IS NOT OKAY TO CONTACT THIS USER WITH UNSOLICITED ADVICE OR FAVOURS

[septusuki]

This doll's stitching is coming apart. To be perfectly honest, its re-re-re-stitching is coming apart. Slowly being pulled apart, from the inside. By a glut of stuffing, that was never meant to be there in the first place. She can only be thankful that her head and her torso are separate components, so none of the swelling malaise can spread to her cranium. Her arms though, her legs though, and most definitely her belly, is fully under it's spell. Trying to sit politely, and straight-up on her desk, this doll — this overpuffed plushy — struggles as the wind knocks it onto it's side; her butt is so round that she couldn't stay upright even if she could move her arms. Still smiling, even as her bulbous middle impedes her every action, she just lays there, immobile, save for when her owner intercedes.

This plushy cannot be entirely sure if she wants her owner to save her or not, though. If her owner does ever pick her up, it's for a sodden, sordid purpose. Under her left arm is a metal washer, so small that it can hold the fabric apart, and leave a tiny hole, both in clothing and fabric-flesh. The doll's owner put it there, in a flight of fancy, and has been using it, ever since. Almost daily. Whenever the mood takes her — which is most always — she delivers the doll from the desk, and onto her lap. For any other doll, in any other situation, this would be a blessing, no doubt. Playtime! For this one, though, it is a death knell. A funeral bell.

Still laying on her side, the doll feels another piece of stitching in her top tear. Slowly, and so humiliatingly that it's painful, the ties come undone, wheeling around in space before being pulled tight, and then popping. Another tear, opened up just in front of her right side. Her dress is inches from busting apart, wholesale. For now, she'll have to bear the slow-motion alternative. The slow screaming, squealing death throes of her outfit, ripping apart and exposing her squeaky-clean pinkish silk-skin. She wants to hide her face in her hair; cyan-blue locks that reach down to her chest. That reach down to sit on her chest. The only part of her that her owner has promised she won't ruin.

"Oblivionis!" Finally, her name is called. Her ticket is punched. A hand, that was once tiny, wraps almost two-thirds around her tummy, and steals her from the desk-side. "There you are!" Her owner giggles, and the rest is already decided. She pulls the plush in close and hugs it, almost popping a button on the girl's reddish dress. She hugs so tight, that the plush can swear she can feel her woollen eyes bulging. To say nothing of her lower half, the stuffed toy is compressed almost to bursting, so much so that her bottom-half hangs even lower, out of the bottom of her vantablack skirt.

After the hug is over — after the torture is ended — the stuffed stuffy is placed on her owner's lap. She knows what comes next. Perhaps being squeezed wasn't so bad. A beady, thick syringe is inserted into the washer's pupil, driving in deep enough that the doll swells up slightly, just from it's presence. The doll's owner purrs, her hand caressing the improper swell of her toy's tummy. And then, her thumb presses down on the syringe's pump.

Stuffing is injected, right into the doll's stomach. Hyper-compacted inside of the syringe, it explodes into life once it finds semi-colonized, open earth inside of the doll. Immediately, the doll puffs up, her outfit growing more and more tense with each press from her owner. Her arms swell, her gloves becoming spheres of stuffing. Her legs swell, so much that her boots come close to bursting off. Her face is slowly obscured by bloated belly, as she grows, and grows. Infinitely larger, it feels, even if it's only a few inches. The doll's diameter grows, her skirt's waistband biting into the newly bloated belly. Her shoulders surge upwards, forming a tyre around the plushy's head, so much so that it'd be hard to breathe if she needed to. Another button pops off, and all her owner can do is snicker. She doesn't leap to grab it, or curse herself for being so eager. She just watches the little plastic discus fly through the air, and land on the floor. The plushy's chest is exposed more, inch by inch, as the now freed fabric eases apart.

The syringe is empty, but that doesn't mean it's over. Her owner grabs her up by the waist — what was once so slim, and is now the widest part of her — and massages. She is plumping her, like a pillow, to make sure she doesn't look deformed and uneven. Moreso than she already is, at least. Her thin, dainty fingers examine the plushy's every angle, squeezing stuffing into place until the doll is as perfectly round as can be. Finally, she lifts the doll up, by the bottom, and elevates her up to her head. So she can see her tormentor, perhaps, and the bright smile between her short, blonde locks.

"Oblivionis, you're getting so heavy!" Misumi Uika smiles, as it becomes obvious that she's been weighing her plushy doll in her hands. The doll can't stop smiling, even as her torso swells to cover the fabric that makes it up. Even as her bottom-half reaches to touch her lacy masquerade mask, she can't say no. She can't defy anything, or even speak her abject horror. All she can do is hope, that one of her buttons pops off, and smacks her owner in the face. Perhaps that would teach her a lesson.

[contraspectacle]

UNKNOWN PLEASURES 01.25.2024

》 DJ: REED KAVANAH

This is gonna be long but fuck it: people of Chattanooga, you're so goddamn lovely. I'm genuinely grateful that I get to look forward to Unknown Pleasures every month now, it's worth every minute of the drive from Nashville - I'm on my laptop so I can't use emojis, but imagine all the sappy ones right here, because you're all gorgeous.

The list specifies what the performers danced to. It's all their own picks, besides a couple fill-ins - they got skills and amazing taste to boot (I'm lucky to have heard some synth music Phoenix is working on and it slaps heavily).

Also, here's a SoundCloud mix excerpted from the middle of the live mix! Let me know if you want more of these.

I'll be joined by DJ THEOCULTT for our extra-cyberpunk event next month, and I'm stoked to finally be in town for their set (I've seen them go hard when I've played some of my own personal top-tier favs - this always warms my heart). Also, Ariel is coming back with an experimental piece combining her live performance with a music-video-style VHS piece my friend Julia and I shot with her (sounds complicated but I promise it's fun)... AND we've got CRT from Atlanta playing a sick live industrial/body set. Be sure to check out CRT's label, DKA Records - they're based in Atlanta, but they put out great electronic music from all over the world, and you'll almost certainly find something interesting (like FUEDAL, whose track "Movin" you heard on Thursday).

One last thing: R.I.P. Luis Vasquez, Juan Mendez, and Simone Ling. They were massive losses to music, gone for tragic reasons. Do your thing, but please be safe and carry naloxone. DIY music is in dire straits, and we can't afford to lose any more of the beautiful, sensitive people who keep it going - there's work to do and shows to see.

Can't wait to see y'all again.

xoxo,

-R.K.

P.S: There's a requests board by the booth now - I can't play 'em all but I like to know what you like, so hit me! Apologies to whoever requested Boy Harsher's "Motion," cuz I accidentally played "Electric" instead lol - I have a BH setlist hanging on the wall behind me as we speak... I've committed a sin against Jae and Gus... but I shall atone next month, bet.

》 09:00PM: R.K.

Death in Vegas - Witchdance Dub

Lesson Seven, scott crow - Blind (Mark Pistel Remix)

The Grid - One Giant Step

Wire Spine - Hellraiser

Kissing the Pink - Certain Things are Likely

Mansfield.TYA - BB

Robotiko Rejekto - Rejekto (Pefekto Mix)

Silent Servant - Cut Unconscious

Eleven Pond - Sex Robot

Portion Control - The Great Divide (Razormaid Mix)

Marie Davidson & L'Oeil Nu - Renegade Breakdown (incl. Jessy Lanza Remix)

》 10:00PM: GODDESS PHOENIX (POLE)

Nuxx Vomica - FTEV (incl. Confines Remix)

Black Devil Disco Club - "H" Friend

Echoberyl - Taking the Space

Paradox Obscur - Dark Fortress

Liste Noir - Time is Your Crime

Moon 17 - Jellyfish

》 10:20PM: R.K.

Spike Hellis - Mouth

Blu Anxxiety - Macabre

Andi, Machino - Softly, Softly

Patriarchy - Hell Was Full (ADULT. Remix)

Working Men's Club - Valleys (Graham Massey Remix)

The Force Dimension - Algorythm (Manipulating Mix)

Cabaret Voltaire - Hypnotised

》 10:40PM: ARIEL PEAKE (FIRE)

Eartheater - Chop Suey (System of a Down cover)

》 10:45PM: R.K.

Axodry - You (Beauty and the Beat Mix)

Boy Harsher - LA

Cruel Blue - Vantablack

Marie Davidson - Work It

Annika Wolfe - Bust

Special Interest - LA Blues (Marie Davidson Remix)

PVA - Untethered

Fluid Ghost - Memory Extraction

Stacian - Grey Fate (Black Light Smoke Rework)

Moon 17 - Mirror Side

Depeche Mode - People Are People (Razormaid Mix)

Book of Love - Tubular Bells (Lullaby Version)

Buzz Kull - Into the Void

Male Tears - I Expire

The Soft Moon - Become the Lies

Nuovo Testamento - Heartbeat (Curses Remix)

Korine - Mt. Airy (Nuovo Testamento Remix)

Randolph & Mortimer - Dream Hack

Electronic - Dark Angel

Sextile - Contortion (RQ)

Nuxx Vomica - Easy Go (incl. Semantix Remix)

Celebrate the Nun - She's a Secretary

Catherine Moan - Fools

Madeline Goldstein - Edges of the Lines

》 12:00AM: GODDESS PHOENIX (BIRDLESQUE)

Eartheater - Solid Liquid Gas

Donzii - Pattern 26

Joyfriend - Trouble

Patriarchy - It Goes Fast (Sacred Skin Remix)

》 12:15AM: R.K.

Zanias - Simulation (Alen Skanner Remix)

》 12:20AM: ARIEL PEAKE (WHIP)

The Soft Moon - Black Sabbath (Black Sabbath cover)

》 12:30AM: R.K.

MVTANT - Damaged Goods (Gang of Four cover)

Jeff in Leather - In Leather

Kumo 99 - Gomi

Potochkine - Possédée (Maman Kusters Remix)

》 12:45AM: GODDESS PHOENIX + ARIEL PEAKE (DUO)

Scimitar - Flame War

Kontravoid - For What It Is

》 12:50AM: R.K.

Leaether Strip - Lullaby (The Cure cover)

》 01:00AM: ARIEL PEAKE (FIRE ENCORE)

Wachita China - CRAZY ABOUT M3GAN

》 01:05AM: R.K.

DJ これからの緊急災害 - Fuck the Pa1n Away (Peaches cover)

Panther Modern - Full Capacity

Fuedal - Movin

Modern Man - I'm So Tired (Fugazi cover)

M!R!M, Nuovo Testamento - Desert Love

Depeche Mode - Enjoy the Silence (Ewan Pearson Extended Mix)

Identified Patient, Sophie du Palais - Crush On You

Clay Pedrini - New Dream (I-Robots Reconstruction)

Tulioxi - Another Gang of Desperates (Roe Deers Remix)

Comfort Cure - They Told You Wrong

The Psychic Force - World In My Eyes (Depeche Mode cover)

MCL, Couleur Trois - Tekno Side Part Two

Aphex Twin - Windowlicker (Zuckr's Breaks Chop Up)

Madonna - Dress You Up (mixed into Windowlicker)

Parade Ground - Moans (cut short, my bad!)

Arnaud Rebotini - To (Wo)Men on the Assembly Line

Geneva Jacuzzi - Casket

Blu Anxxiety - Send Me an Angel (Real Life cover) (RQ)

Jeff in Leather - CRUSH

Sextile - LA DJ

New Order - Confusion (Pump Panel Reconstruction)

Dark Chisme - Lucretia My Reflection (The Sisters of Mercy cover)

Louisahhh - Hammer

Xibling - Bulletproof

Boy Harsher - Electric (meant to play Motion RQ - whoopsie)

Velvet Velour - Hydrophobia (Alen Skanner Remix)

Frankie Goes to Hollywood - Relax (Club 69 Future Anthem)

Dark Chisme - Vete de Aqui

SDH - Hectic

Debby Friday - I Got It

Nuxx Vomica - No Money

Underworld - Born Slippy (Nuxx)

Ex-Heir - No Pain No Brain

Kumo 99 - Adjacent Casualty

L.O.T.I.O.N. Multinational Corporation - Cybernetic Super Lover (feat. Lulu)

Nuovo Testamento - Vanity (Nuovo Testamento Disco Mix)

The Immortal(s) - Techno Syndrome (Theme from Mortal Kombat, 12" Mix)

Kate Bush - The Hounds of Love

Outro: Carrellee - Stay (Patriarchy Remix)

...this was five hours thanks to transitions, but the Spotify playlist is over SEVEN HOURS, so you sweet bb's got some listenin' to do :)

[bastardsunlight]

yo wesker why are you such a huge bitch

“Twenty one, why do you have wheel tracks on your face?” 

[vardasvapors]

Vantablack

queen-haleth submitted a post to vardasvapors:

Curufin was appalled when he first heard Lúthien’s version. She had the gall, the audacity to suggest they had kidnapped her? For political gain?

It wasn’t his fault she used copyrighted materials he had developed. It wasn’t his fault he had to sue her. And it certainly wasn’t his fault Celegorm had decided to marry her because she was the princess of Doriath and he was a prince and a Fëanorian, and it would have been the logical strategic thing to do - no, that one was kind of his fault.

They were hunting in the Guarded Plain, and this, too, was her fault. It was to foil her quest that Sauron had brought forth his wolves, and it was because they were hunting the wolves, Huan in tow, that they even crossed paths with her. Huan found her, in fact, while they were resting. It was the hair - dark, blacker than anything in Arda, swirling with shadows even in the midday glare - that caught Curufin’s attention when Huan brought her to them. Because nothing was that dark. Nothing but Vantablack.

He’d made it as a joke, when they were younger - regular black too light to represent your soul, Curvo? - but it had developed into an unhealthy obsession. He’d finally achieved Vantablack in Nargothrond, and it was undoubtedly the darkest usable substance in Arda. It nearly rivaled Ungoliant’s utter absence of light. Of course, as a wise precaution, he’d been quick to copyright it. What was the point of having the blackest black, of inventing it, if anyone could use it?

Lúthien’s hair was decidedly a violation of the myriad laws surrounding its usage, and he would not stand for it. He pronounced his accusation solemnly, calmly, as befit a son of Kings. Very calmly.

And he only got more sensible when she reacted with amusement. Amusement? Did she know nothing of the impressive legal prowess of Curufinwë Atarincë, honed through eons of arguing with enemies, rivals, and allies alike? Did she not fear retribution for this unacceptable use of his Vantablack - as hair dye, for the princess of Doriath, of all things?

She did agree to go back to Nargothrond with them, probably because her precious and pure and small human had passed there earlier. He was glad. There were plenty of courts in the city, and it was guarded enough she would not be able to escape the lawsuit facing her. And to make doubly sure, they could always imprison her and confiscate the evidence so she could not run off with it.

Who wove cloaks out of their own hair anyway?

And it is said they swayed the hearts of the people of Nargothrond, because they agreed using his Vantablack without explicit written permission was illegal and morally wrong. Less so than escaping justice and carrying off the evidence with the aid of Turko’s own dog, though.

He couldn’t decide what the worst part was. The humiliation? The usage of Vantablack? Huan’s betrayal? Celegorm’s year-long moping? The loss of a wonderful opportunity to gain power in Doriath and reclaim the Silmarils with the combined power of the Elven kingdoms?

This would not happen again, he vowed. If he ever saw anyone with Vantablack hair again, he would kill them on sight.

Except perhaps Lúthien. She was slightly terrifying.

Inspired by this post of yours. http://vardasvapors.tumblr.com/post/159882420804/meme-replies

sdjfhksdfdk THIS IS SO PERFECT AND HILARIOUS and was such a treat to get in my inbox, thank you!!! <3

[isozyme]

what is funny about ad Reinhardt and yves Klein? i want to be let in on the joke

so yves klein was a color field painter, also known as those guys who just paint a canvas blue, all blue, all the same color of blue, and sell it for a shitton of money. actually when it came to blue, yves klein was kind of The Guy. 

BLUE

but back before all the fame and the blue, he made “yves peintures,” which was a catalog of his monochromes, pictured here:

the joke is that it’s bullshit! it’s just squares of construction paper glued on the page with little titles written below them. even the preface isn’t a preface -- it’s just horizontal lines that he had a buddy of his sign with his name. one time yves klein and his art pals all hyped up a big big gallery show that he was opening. a solo exhibition! very exciting! all the critics and fancy motherfuckers showed up -- three thousand people came. with great drama, they were led into a completely empty gallery. “welcome,” yves klein said. “I call it THE SPECIALIZATION OF SENSIBILITY IN THE RAW MATERIAL STATE INTO STABILIZED PICTORIAL SENSIBILITY, LE VIDE (THE VOID).” he was, in every way, a total fucker who loved bright colors and pranking the art world.

meanwhile, ad reinhardt -- what’s ad reinhardt’s gig?

ad reinhardt’s gig is BLACK

more specifically, black-on-black grids of very slightly varying shades of black, applied in a very matte, powdery way that left the paintings with almost no sheen. it’s a pretty cool effect in person (if vantablack 2.0 had been a thing in the 50s, ad reinhardt would have busted a nut)

unfortunately, the way he did the paint makes the paintings incredibly difficult to maintain. if you touch one, the oils on your hands will immediately stain the painting, and it can’t be cleaned or repaired.

“no prob, bob,” ad reinhardt said to the flustered museum curators and collectors. “if you mess it up i’ll just replace it.”

“but what about our original ad reinhardt!” said the curators and collectors

“yeah i’ll replace it,” ad reinhardt said, “with the same original painting but not fucked up.” this caused some consternation

incidentally, he also made this small comic, which never fails to tickle me:

YOU, SIR, ARE A SPACE TOO!

one of my real favorite artworks in this vein is by robert rauschenberg, and i’m going to include the story of it because it makes me very happy. rauschenberg was an insane post-modernist -- one of his most famous pieces includes a taxidermy goat with paint thrown all over it and a car tire around its neck, that kind of thing -- and i love his piece titled “erased de kooning drawing”

so willem de kooning was the husband of elaine de kooning, who painted sick abstract expressionist portraits and was slamming hot

wow

willem was also an artist, and kind of a big deal in his own right, and friends with rauschenberg

one day rauschenberg calls him up like “hey i have an idea for a collaboration between us two art bastards. i need you to do me a drawing, in pencil”

and willem said “why”

and rauschenberg said “wouldn’t you like to know”

and willem said “why”

and rauschenberg said “because i’m gay, give it”

and willem said “that’s not a reason”

and rauschenberg said “fine, i wanna make a commentary on the value of art even after it’s destroyed and palimpsests and ephemerality and shit i guess, so i need a drawing by a famous dude to erase, and you’re famous”

willem de kooning said “okay” and proceeded to find the wettest, most difficult to erase grease pencil in his studio, which he then used to make several drawings until he came up with one he liked and sent it to rauschenberg

and to his credit, rauschenberg erased that motherfucker. he put in the effort. in a spectacular show of spite countering spite, he very nearly got rid of it all. look at this shit:

if that almost-blank piece of paper isn’t a work of art, i don’t know what is

[draik]

From Both Sides - Bust, Cast Urethane and Aluminum Mica, 2017. 8.5 x 4.5 inches Aluminum series of Five

Now available on Etsy.

[altpress]

#frankiero #futureviolents #altpress ORDER YOURS AT: http://bit.ly/2Q2ClwM FRANK IERO IS A LOUSY IMPOSTER In David Bowie’s eternal song “Changes,” he sings, “There’s gonna have to be a different man/Time may change me/But I can’t trace time.” If there was at least four square inches of space left on his body, Frank Iero should consider having those words etched on him in Vantablack ink. Barriers, his third album as a solo artist/bandleader, is filled with hat-pin turns both sonically and emotionally. An artist’s job is to stake their claim and continue to grow and evolve while being true to the very reasons she/he picked up an instrument or a microphone in the first place. But when you’ve been doing this as long as Iero has, there has to be, at the very least, the psychological version of muscle memory. That feeling of confidence. A measure of “I got this.” And, of course, the carte blanche to phone it in for the sake of maintaining record release and touring cycles. So when AP checks in 25 minutes prior to Iero unveiling his new outfit the Future Violents as an unannounced guest for Thursday’s show at St. Vitus in Brooklyn, he’s marinating in what can best be described as abject terror. This coming from a guy who successfully and without question carried his punk-rock cred into rock star status and passionate solo artist. And he’s genuinely scared. “Whatever you have done in the past doesn’t piggyback onto a new project,” he warns, pacing in the basement of St. Vitus and peppering his sentences with nervous smirks. “You can’t fall back: The slate’s been wiped clean, and you’ve got to start fresh. Everything you’ve done up to this point doesn’t matter. And then you start to worry. And then you start to wonder, ‘Oh man, do I even know how to do this? Is this going to work?’” When he checks in with AP later after the show, Iero is jittery. He’s literally stuttering. “It was...it was..it was…,” he pauses. “It was literally like the first time. I got up there, and immediately all the worry and the whole world faded away, and I didn’t want to come offstage. I wanted to keep playing. “It’s funny,” he says, tapering off his exuberance to reflect. “You spend 23 hours of your day riddled with anxiety. Then you’ve got that half-hour or 45 minutes to be onstage, and that’s the pure joy of it. You feel free again.” He pauses to exhale. “And then you forget about it.” He busts into laughter. “It’s like Groundhog Day, isn’t it? But I’ve been in 112 bands, released 13 to 15 records and I still get to do this. It’s fucking unreal.” This year’s model Frank Iero is equal parts fearless and frightened, rock star and regular guy, public and impenetrably personal. He’s not faking anything. Read the full story behind the creation of the Future Violents and the roads toward (and around) Barriers—and peep Jonathan Weiner’s quite handsome photography of Iero—in AP 370 over here... ORDER YOURS AT: http://bit.ly/2Q2ClwM ALSO IN THIS MONTH’S ISSUE Anybody here celebrating their 20th year on the planet? Happy birthday! You know what else turns 20 this year? Enema Of The State, the game-changing, end-of-the-century, pop-punk classic delivered by BLINK-182. Mark Hoppus and Travis Barker spoke to AP about their reflections and memories on the record and the number of rotations the record’s sphere of influence has made. AIDAN GALLAGHER gets topical about his music, ecology, acting, the biggest misconceptions about his character Number Five on The Umbrella Academy and why he’ll never be in a band. The cool rockin’ team of Jack Anderson, Malcolm Craig, Ayla Tesler-Mabe and Finn Wolfhard—collectively known as CALPURNIA— don’t really care about what the future looks like. But they’re really stoked over the possibility of how it’s going to sound. And they’ve got the fighting spirit to make their mark on the veneer on 21st century indie rock. Having grown up through the punk underground, ANGEL DU$T frontman Justice Tripp is passionate about community, ethics and artistic freedom. The fact that listeners continue to ruminate whether their new music can still be considered hardcore is a point of great pride to him. SLEEPING WITH SIRENS frontman Kellin Quinn has experienced incredible highs and deep, deep lows. He shares some personal insight to impart the truth that IT GOT BETTER. In this month’s ALBUM ANATOMY, THE DANGEROUS SUMMER continue to make up for their hiatus by getting back to rawness and vulnerability—with a little Adderall thrown in. Under the moniker WITCH OF THE EAST, Aeris Houlihan has created a debut album so gloriously varied, it feels like the best mixtape anyone’s ever given you. We also dip into 10 Essential side project/solo albums from your favorite bands, delve into 12 Bands to make you smile through your web crawling, display both the finest AP archive shots and fan art and much more! ORDER YOURS AT: http://bit.ly/2Q2ClwM by Alternative Press

[notedchampagne]

tagged by @doctorwhooian​ thanks buddy

under the cut cuz its long but rip mobile users

A - Age: 15 B - Birthplace: philippines C - Current time: 929 pm and im still not done with hw but what can you do lmao rip sometimes you just gotta let sleep deprivation hang out oh look its 930 pm now thats nice vhxsavziwsqihxewio lmao D - Drink you last had: water lmao i barely drink anything else E - Easiest person to talk to: most of the time talking online with yalls easier than trying to form a coherent sentence irl so idk shrug do discord server friends count ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ F - Favorite Song: usually its a fluctual tie between two or three other songs but just the two of us (grover washington jr) or palisades (sufjan stevens) are like top notch G- Grossest memory- walked into a toilet in school and saw [redacted] on the lid. *the lid* what position could someone even *BE* in to have it on the LID H - Horror; Yes or No?: absolutely not i hate horror but that doesnt stop me from watching it if dared to which will inevitably lead to my downfall I - In love?: idk? i dont think im much ready for a relationship as of rn but hopefully in the future maybeJ - Jealous of people?: not really L - Love at first sight or should I walk by again?: kehfnzkdjskt keysmash im a terrible romantic with a love for romcoms but i feel like someone might have to throw a heart shaped brick at me to actually realize so walk by again and along the way maybe knock sense into my head M - Middle Name: lopez  N - Number of Siblings: one O - One Wish: idk maybe like 5 number after trillion dollars i just want to provide gofundmes and ko-fis and support my friends and fam P - Person You Called Last: my mom Q - Question you are always asked: why am i so violent / so good at art iheksbrizbrishtkzneklsnz that is some Drastic duality R - Reasons to smile: friends memes and the homestuck zine yeet S - Song You Sang Last: part of your world from the little mermaid. its birth name assigned kin i had to T - Time you woke up: 630 i think U - Underwear Color: vantablack. anish kapoor black. i inhabit the very essence of memes in an underwear color. can redacted be a color what about vaporwave V - Vacation Destination: idk maybe disneyland or busting into hussies secret hideout and taking pictures of me dabbing W - Worst Habit: i have a Very Bad Temper X - X-Rays: i have no bones Z - Zodiac Sign: sollux

[nightinghoul001-blog]

       SCENE: a Blockbusters at 3am. It’s dark (vantablack) and it smells like nature and cigarettes and some bum’s piss. There’s grass coming up through the concrete, a tree growing out of the busted front window. The sign’s still on for some reason but most of the flourescent lights are out, leaving just B U S T with a flickering T and unsure U. There’s noise, of course, coming from a 1965 Ford Mustang, pitch black with bloody red interiors and a stick shift that’s just a miniature goat’s skeletal goat’s head. It’s disco, naturally, funky and loud and coming from all corners. It’s sick, she’s sick, they’re sick. 

    Libby leans back on the roof of the car and says, ❝ Can you even rent a VHS on the astral plane?❞

        🌹  @diosasbody 🌹

[blkrngr-blog]

15 ASSOCIATIONS.    

repost and fill in the answers you most associate your character with to each question .

001 .   ANIMAL .   a husky with a derpy look on its face ( x, x, and x for reference )

002 .   COLOR ( S ).    A WALKING AD FOR VANTABLACK but also gray sometimes and white ( but always under something darker - to signify that under all of his dumb and devious shit, zack is a Pure at heart™  )

003 .   MONTH.    november

004 .   SONG.   for the thrill by yellow claw ( feat. becky g ) ;DDDD

005 .   NUMBER.   5

006 .   DAY OR NIGHT.   night time. zack? asleep? nEVER

007 .   PLANT.   asters. his mom’s favorite flowers. there used to be some growing on the way to the trailer park (zack used to collect some and bring it to his mom) but not anymore. he’s considered trying to grow it once or twice to bring them to her to help her feel better but he’s never gone through with it.

008 .   SMELL.   laundry detergent? it reminds him of his mom and just like, a feeling of comfort. he loves the smell/sight of freshly washed clothes folded on his bed (it helps him recall when his mom used to be able to walk around and shit and akjghsd i’m getting emo). he still uses the same detergent his mom did but somehow he can’t get clothes to smell like she did. like it’s there, literally the same, but it’s just not right, you know? it bothers him but it’s close enough.

009 .   GEMSTONE.   obsidian bc “ protective color that gives you a sense of power. it makes you feel secure, d a r i n g, and physically powerful. “ 

(but also black star diopside bc he thinks the name is bANGIN’ and apparently it’s believed to heal the heart/lungs/circulatory system and also believed to aid psychological disorders and weaknesses and to him that’s #relatable bc his mom but also he has bad days too ok)

010 .   SEASON.   fall (time to bust out those sexy jackets ya feel)

011  .   PLACE .   on top of abandoned train cars or just anywhere high (like streetlamps, the edges of buildings or roofs, etc.)

012  .   FOOD.   honestly, i can really see zack enjoying carbonara. just like something super filling and heavy. (lowkey messy to eat and bad for you but dELICIOUS AF.)

013  .    ASTROLOGICAL SIGN.   sagittarius ( ”extrovert, optimistic and enthusiastic, and likes changes. [...] are able to transform their thoughts into concrete actions and they will do anything to achieve their goals.” )

014  .    ELEMENT  (  S  ).    fire!!!!

015  .    DRINK.   honestly??? probably one of those smirnoff ice blacks that’s like 8% alcohol (the fruit punch one or the lemon lime one) - something unsuspecting and tastes like no alcohol and just fruity goodness so that one second you’re fine and having a good time but then the next you’re like tURN THE FUCK UP and having an even bETTER TIME. a Zack™ drink tbh.

TAGGED BY  .   @viridimal​

TAGGING   .     @digimmortality​ @tohavelost​ @holypatronus​ @tcliver​ @asortofsalvation​

[milesatticusmartin]

Central Nervous System

The blood pressure-risen is running the attack of customer satisfaction back

And the GM is threatening your survival with rules and regulations regularly

The scrambling breadcrumb presidential bidders are compensating imagination with veneer here,

And clinging to vague unity platitudes like a virtue would be monochrome alone

Winning feels tied to Darwinian lies like rallying cries for a bigger bank account size

And lately there’s a science for a creep inside their sheets’ idle weight boundlessly

Losing the faculty to inactivate vanity from a fate to follow a value borrowed in a space that’s hollow

Sadistic shallow-shadowing shows of macho manufacturing factoring in

Sin akin to baths within a tub of gin when skin begins to thin and spin again

That’s when the plot’s been lost a lot and tossed about a bit with holes and clots

Blocked and caught in knots and thoughts squeezing circulation off enough to stop

Brain busts and noggin pops pavement parading apart from the posse purring feline

At the top of the food chain complaining perhaps that it’s raining and the sap is gorilla glued to you

Immobilizing movement mostly, politically sparking balking and booing while we buoy a boat capsizing constitutionally continually 

And the applied industrial psychologist talent developer producing motivation maximization 

With the organizational consultant concocting collaboration saturation where introspection is checked and suspect

Chomsky chatters anarchy harmony humorously luminously. Subordinates coordinate on ordinates of posts marked in stars, labor laws and leisurely leafs fail to fall profit margins and all.

UBI rings a bell in the vantablack hell, spilling the sun on alcoholic buses away

Ten-hour testimonies bemoan the throne’s laundry list of political risks

While the compromised senator censures the reach of speech beefed with teeth on a leash on a neck

Writing spec scripts for class grips that eclipse the fixed bits of imbalanced relationships that challenge courage and corrupt the cures for what secures what’s mine and yours immaterially always

[whyamidoingthisstupidshtick-blog]

and here is a random story

The room that the two were gawking at had pale cream coloured walls, smeared in charcoal. A painting hung high, with a young child whose brown hair strung neatly down the sides of her head, that greatly resembled Katie, and probably was Katie, except that painting too had a greasy, black texture, that seemed as black as vantablack, which made it hard for the proper features to be exposed. A torn, beaten mattress laid face-down in a pool of the black grease. Blue blankets and pillows were thrown across the room, and a vase of flowers, or what was once a vase of flowers, was broken of the floor, shattered into millions of pieces with shrivelled flowers laying in pieces. The words ‘Leader’ that should have once hung proudly on the wall below the painting, onlyhung heavily, still stuck up with a single rusty nail. Cray nor Oso have ever taken foot in this eerie room, which gave them the chills just from looking at it.

“This room no doubt… represents Katie?” Whimpered Oso, staring at every destroyed feature of the room. Cray only stood against the wall, hands in his pockets, looking over the scene.

“It’s almost like this room was a mini battle arena,” Cray awkwardly laughed. Oso only glared at him, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Let’s investigate this room. Perhaps there’s a clue as to what these rooms are here for, and why this room desperately needs a clean too…”

Oso walked over to the mattress, the item that caught her eyes first, and Cray shuffled over  to the painting, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Damn. If anyone in the CSA crew made this, only duster could even have the chance and patience to make something like this. such a fine painting. And even so, she mains in digital art and could never afford paint like this, and would’ve taken years to make. It’s a shame it’s this greasy. I’d totally take it and make hundreds off of it if we were to bust out or something,” Cray muttered, pulling out a dagger tipped with gold, boomeranged it at the flimsy string that kept the painting up, and caught it in his hands when it fell down.

“Eyyyyyyy- “

“Don’t flatter yourself with that pitiful ‘show’. Anyone with about a weeks’ worth of practise could manage that,” she flipped the mattress onto its side and examined it as if it were too a piece of art. A leader’s badge was on the floor, looking like it was abandoned centuries ago. Oso picked it up, and looked at it, and rubbed her fingers against its dusty surface

“it’s time to go… I think we’ve seen enough. Any luck Cray?”

“There’s some sorta hole thingy that was covered up by the painting… I’d check it out but…” Cray [], staring up at the hole that was easily too high for him.

“Kinda high…”

Oso facepalmed, a moment before letting out a long sigh.

“You have blades. USE THEM,” Oso grumbled from behind her gloved hands.

“What do you mean-“

“OH, YOU LAZY *SS. Fine… if you really are that incompetent, then I suppose I’LL have to do it MYSELF… tch… this isn’t even for myself…” Oso [], and her arms moulded into pickaxes, dug them into wall, and scurried up with little effort. She looked in, and pulled at some object that was jammed inside.

“What is it?” Cray yelled up, placing his hands on his waist. Oso continued to dig through the opening, shifted a arm back into a hand and pulled a small device that just fit in her palm. It was like a PlayStation 4 controller, but a lever stuck out from the bottom, and was coated in a layer of white web.

“Some sorta’ controller? It seems pretty old… I do wonder what it does,” Oso replied, jumping down from opening of the hole that was used as a ledge. Her arms ripped apart like ribbons, and shifted back into normal arms.

“Well… let’s leave. We can check out what this does later,” Oso scratched the paint, and shoved it in her jumper pocket. The two left the room, and shut the door.

“Attention all! The trial shall start in a hour! Be sure to fill up, and exchange thoughts in preparation for the trial!” Camila’s voice rung out from the speakers.

“It’s been two hours already?! We’ll barely have any time to check out the other rooms!”

The future of their survival depends on you. Should they:

Check out Endercat’s room

Check out Perim’s room

Check out Star’s room

Check out Duster’s room

Check ou Usan’s room

Look somewhere else

Check up on the crew

[tinymixtapes]

Music Review: Expressway Yo-Yo Dieting - Undone Harmony Following

Expressway Yo-Yo Dieting Undone Harmony Following [Type; 2017] Rating: 4.5/5 Elephant in the room: Yes, the DJ Screw comparison is inevitable, and yes, a simile along the lines of “Undone Harmony Following is like a Screw tape unearthed from the rubble of a boiler room explosion” would be apt. However, aside from playing with pitch sliders and taste for bottomless bass, the sonic similarities are limited. Instead, we should direct our focus towards DJ Screw’s conceptual legacy. Venus and Adonis, after Simon Vouet, Netherlands 18th Century. From Anamorphic Art, J. Baltrušaitis To my eyes, reality deserves distortion. I will make no attempt to disguise my love of the grotesque and the technologies that make us so. The very least art can do for us is to allow things to be seen in a new way, and if that requires stretching and warping and molding them beyond recognition, so be it. The disc-tortions Screw performed were anamorphic. His syrup-slow remixes were pitched abyssal, as if to create a distorted sound that could be set straight in the warp of a codeine trip. Like those images that only seem right when reflected in the back of spoon, the music maps perfectly to a universe of non-Euclidean sounds, and it was incumbent on his listener to enter into that monstrous cosmos. DJ Screw’s approach re-interrogated the crucial epistemological tension: to what degree does reality create perception and perception reality? The real question is, as it always is, tainted by our own normative assumptions. To have a distortion, we must have a clarity, but from whence is this clarity delivered? We premise clarity as our own baseline, unaffected perceptions, though the danger of that is Kleistian: “If all men had green glasses instead of eyes, they would be led to say that all objects they see are green. […] We cannot determine if what we call truth is really truth or whether it only seems so.” Kleist, of course, followed this logic to the barrel of his own pistol. However, if we undid our devotion to clarity as the bottom of experience and harmony as the guiding principle of the universe, we may reframe them as a distortion equal to distortion, Screw’s mixtape mangling is not the nullity of escapism, but the constitution of an epistemological position unburdened. Not so much an inquiry into the ding-an-sich, but a shrug of the shoulders and an honestly asked “what does it matter?” The material being twisted and repurposed is already distorted beyond comprehension, and attempts toward clarity recompose those things as much as distortion decomposes them. Clarity is the myth of Enlightenment while distortion the fantasia of subjectivity. Pat Maherr, the hands behind Expressway Yo-Yo Dieting, likewise seems to reject things as they are presented to him. As Indignant Senility, he collapses Western classical into a vantablack hole, and in Diamond Catalog, he crushes contemporary dance styles to dust. Wearing his Yo-Yo Dieting hat, hip-hop is his target, and Maherr obliterates with gusto. Undone Harmony Following continues his crusade against the untarnished and deceivingly clear. As with his previous EYYD issue, 2010’s Bubblethug, his touch is heavy, and his treatments render his tracks lugubrious. Bloated near bursting, Undone revels in colliding its boosted bass with busted rhythms and strangled vocals. On “Prince Severance,” our rapper incognito weathers the buffeting percussion, her bars sundered by the intrusion of samples so warped that half of them read as abstract shocks of noise. “Jest Jokin” features raps pitched down past Tartarus. Compared to the voices trapped herein, Spark Master Tape might as well be Pavarotti. The cuts swallow themselves, make themselves mangled and ravaged. Sludgy and ugly, each track is quagmired and festering. They perpetuate their own ruination; they are more than comfortable with succumbing to sheer hellish miasma. Hellish isn’t a poor marker here. Where DJ Screw was happy enough to bend and malleate Southern Hip-Hop, Maherr seeks to pervert and corrupt. By and large, the title cut is just a rumbling cloud of bass and percussion laying waste to its listeners, only to elide into the staticky squelch that constitutes “Vortex of Affluence.” He destroys, and he heaps together all the scrap, atomizing all of the typical signifiers of the genre and reimagines them in demoniac form. Most production and most producers seek to impose a perfection upon the thing that does not belong to it. In an attempt to recreate something that was uncreated in the first place, we have studio setups that promise perfect recording and headphones that tout crystalline highs, booming lows, and rich harmonic color. It’s all myth, and it’s all artifice, but artifice that pretends toward being real and absolute. Ortega y Gasset, in writing about Diego Velázquez, claims that the real difference between reality and myth is that myth may be finished, it may be presented to us as a clear and complete vision of the world. DJ Screw and his many inheritors deny this totalizing mythopoesis, but instead choose to embrace the arbitrariness of their world, its essential incompleteness, and use it to erect new worlds fashioned from the very same base material as the myth. In framing clarity as a false authority and choosing to engage with the messiness of our perception, distortion creates a new category of reality, teratical to those that can’t share its vision. We can call this anamorphosis. The image at the top of this review is the same as the image at the bottom. The only difference is distortion. Jorge Luis Borges in his early writings in support of ultraísmo defines for us two aesthetics: the passive aesthetic of mirrors and the active aesthetic of prisms. Guided by the first, art transforms itself into a copy of its objective environment or history of an individual’s psyche. Guided by the second, art redeems itself, turning the world into its instrument, and forging — so far beyond the prisons of space and time — its personal vision. It is this latter aesthetic that we see in Maherr’s work and in the work of the luminary who inspired such a wave of productive deconstruction. Maherr tears the world apart and reshapes it into an image incomprehensible to the objective environment. Undone Harmony Following, instead, feels like a call to replace our straight-backed, unadventurous mirrors with something more prismatic and distorted, something more interesting than any myth of clarity. Simon Vouet: Venus and Adonis, engraving by Dorigny, 1638. From Anamorphic Art, J. Baltrušaitis http://j.mp/2qpvQvG

[vardasvapors]

meme replies

gurguliare replied to your post:                 feanor + early parenthood? or anything about him...                

   “just as damaging as neglect in hindsight” ah, my kink. wait maybe that’s poor word choice in this instance. ah, my sense of humor    

YES

I’m a huge fan of ‘x trait only works in the right story and you’re in the wrong one sorry bruh you’re SOL’ tbh

   “extremely communicative in both telling Maedhros and Maglor everything he is doing (except when making them surprise presents etc) and soliciting their thoughts and feelings on everything they are doing” also this is great, i love feanor who thinks explaining things is boring unless it’s for his KIDS when it’s the MOST FUN CHALLENG EVER    

I am REALLY into Feanor being very interested in kids! Not necessarily good with them from the perspective of people other than him, but very attentive to them and very patient - at least in the sense of ‘I’M not bored of talking to them!’ And for his kids of course everything is a different ballgame than any other beings around. I am...not super sold on good-dad-Feanor in terms of ‘this is a good way to raise children’, but I’m very invested in good-dad-Feanor in terms of ‘i think this idea is awesome for some ridiculous reason so i’m going to do it with my kids’

erotetica replied to your post:                   feanor + early parenthood? or anything about him...                

  that is. the most terrible thing ever done to me, an innocent, f u k

OOPS. sorry! lol i’m kidding i’m not sorry.

thelioninmybed replied to your post:                   feanor + early parenthood? or anything about him...                

   Aww man just fuck me up. I was coming up with questions to expand on this but tbh I’d just be asking you to write the fanfic, anyway this is good shit 

   No i cant help myself, how does his parenting style mesh with nerdanel’s? 

Uh, okay like.........real talk, I am not a big fan of stereotypical media Daddy Issues in the sense of the Colbert ‘a distant authority figure who can never be pleased,’ in large part because of massive overexposure, so I like to see it as kinda...Nerdanel is the reliable head of the household who gives the kids Talks and “imagine how you’d feel if”’s about how decency involves understanding and working with a socially agreed upon idea of how to behave in a community, which go beyond ‘these are my rights’ and ‘my idea is correct so it’s the one that should happen.’ Feanor is the idolizable “*I* love you so much and you made *us* so proud and exercised *your* potential to the fullest” one who reassures and instills within them the idea of how awesome and important they and their whole family and their role is. Like, family-and-family-member-focused and family-approval-based versus member-of-society-focused and principle-based. Which overlap fine for a long time, because timeless paradise. But then........

crocordile replied to your post:                   uuuuh, Luthien + Hair for that hc thing                

   Vantablack hair    

U GOT IT

   No but really, yes, I also love the multiple mentions to her shadows - there was some good meta somewhere that i’ll look for that looked at the wording of when she puts melkor to sleep, which is also irrc described as a shadow of her own    

YES and thank you for the message with the passage, I’m going to quote it:

"‘Sleep, O unhappy, tortured thrall! Thou woebegotten, fail and fall down, down from anguish, hatred, pain, from lust, from hunger, bond and chain, to that oblivion, dark and deep, the well, the lightless pit of sleep! For one brief hour escape the net, the dreadful doom of life forget!’"

Also I had this passage in mind but didn’t want to quote it because it was too cluttered looking:

“when all the Earth had peace and the glory of Valinor was at its noon, there came into the world Lúthien, the only child of Thingol and Melian. Though Middle-earth lay for the most part in the Sleep of Yavanna, in Beleriand under the power of Melian there was life and joy, and the bright stars shone as silver fires; and there in the forest of Neldoreth Lúthien was born, and the white flowers of niphredil came forth to greet her as stars from the earth.“

valaraukars replied to your post:                   uuuuh, Luthien + Hair for that hc thing                

   Came here for the vantablack hair comment but I see I was too late    

Someone write the AU where Luthien is sued by Anish Kapoor instead of running into C&C

yavieriel replied to your post:                   uuuuh, Luthien + Hair for that hc thing                

   Honestly I agree with this so much that for years I’ve been unreasonably annoyed when someone gives Elrond hair that’s just dark brown and ordinary elves in the same fic have black hair and I’m just ???nO???? Excuse you Elrond has the fabled vantablack hair of Luthien accept no substitutes    

VANTABLACK PEREDHEL. Um................regarding all those ‘dark brown’ descriptions, i don’t mind it at all tbh, but that reminds me, how do I say this. Have you ever dabbled in, like, the really really bad LOTR fic, the ones I spent maybe three evenings browsing through about a year ago before noping away from them in amused bafflement? By which I mean. Erestor, the ’exotic’ ‘ethereally beautiful’, with super-black hair? Like, those are some weird seemingly-obvious character description mix-ups, man.

gurguliare replied to your post:                  Elros + Facial hair                

   NO THIS ANON KNOWS WHAT’S UP. elros’s magnificent anime sideburns. does that mean ar-pharazon had muttonchops    

Everyone knows that muttonchops are a sign of being the superior race, ppl with beards are inferior and beardless ppl are those awful elves who are laughing at us for dying.