#hark winslow

[vultureworth]

teeheehee! *sitting on my bed kicking my legs and twirling my hair while I imagine the default blender cylinder*

[21stcenturyschitzoidred]

Counter point. What if I want to fall into madness?

people who want to live in lighthouse - i hear you, i understand you

but i raise you

living in water tower

[vampirecorleone]

"If I had a steak, I'd fuck it." | "Yer fond of me lobster aint' ye? I seen it - yer fond of me lobster! Say it! Say it. Say it!" | "I don't have to say nothin.'" | "Damn ye! Let Neptune strike ye dead Winslow! HAAARK!" | "Hark Triton, hark! Bellow, bid our father the Sea King rise from the depths full foul in his fury! Black waves teeming with salt foam to smother this young mouth with pungent slime, to choke ye, engorging your organs til' ye turn blue and bloated with bilge and brine and can scream no more - only when he, crowned in cockle shells with slitherin' tentacle tail and steaming beard take up his fell be-finned arm, his coral-tine trident screeches banshee-like in the tempest and plunges right through yer gullet, bursting ye - a bulging bladder no more, but a blasted bloody film now and nothing for the harpies and the souls of dead sailors to peck and claw and feed upon only to be lapped up and swallowed by the infinite waters of the Dread Emperor himself - forgotten to any man, to any time, forgotten to any god or devil, forgotten even to the sea, for any stuff for part of Winslow, even any scantling of your soul is Winslow no more, but is now itself the sea!" | "Alright, have it your way. I like your cookin'."

The Lighthouse (2019) dir. Robert Eggers

[carrionhearted]

i need to watch more horror movies so please drop your favourites 🙏🙏

GLADLY!!!! These are in no particular order, or category… just a list of horror (& adjacent) films that feel special to me. Some of these are genuine works of art, and others are just campy fun. Some of them are flaming garbage. Have fun figuring out which are which!

- House of 1000 Corpses (& sequels: The Devil’s Rejects, Three from hell) (Ho1000C is just a blast, campy and vibrant and fun— while the sequels are a lot more grounded and gritty in tone. The characters really make this franchise. Rob Zombie is great at writing hate-lovable bastards.)

- Eraserhead (a fever-dream-nightmare perfectly translated into film. Surrealist imagery that will permanently etch itself into your grey matter. I hope you like long shots and ambient droning sounds! I love films you have to decode in order to understand.)

- Donnie Darko (more ‘psychological thriller’ than ‘horror’, but god I love this film. If you like unreliable narrators and themes of unreality, blurred lines between the supernatural and psychosis… watch Donnie Darko.)

- I Saw The TV Glow (made me ugly cry until I threw up and gave me a headache so bad I couldn’t sleep afterwards. VERY effective psychological horror if you struggle with identity and dissociation/ dpdr. Like, dangerously effective.)

- Pearl (standout fav of this trilogy, though X and MaXXXine are also great. I am in love with Pearl as a character. Insane writing, insane acting, and it’s shot so well… ooghsgdh I love this film…)

- The Lighthouse (Damn ye! Let Neptune strike ye dead Winslow! HAAARK! Hark Triton, hark! Bellow, bid our father the Sea King rise from the depths full foul in his fury! Black waves teeming with salt foam to smother this young mouth with pungent slime, to choke ye, engorging your organs til' ye turn blue and bloated with bilge and brine and can scream no more - only when he, crowned in cockle shells with slitherin' tentacle tail and steaming beard take up his fell be-finned arm, his coral-tine trident screeches banshee-like in the tempest and plunges right through yer gullet, bursting ye - a bulging bladder no more, but a blasted bloody film now and nothing for the harpies and the souls of dead sailors to peck and claw and feed upon only to be lapped up and swallowed by the infinite waters of the Dread Emperor himself - forgotten to any man, to any time, forgotten to any god or devil, forgotten even to the sea, for any stuff for part of Winslow, even any scantling of your soul is Winslow no more, but is now itself the sea!)

-Carrie (the original is, of course, the best… but the 2013 iteration is also surprisingly good. She is so normal girl don’t worry about it)

- Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 (SPECIFICALLY 2, but watch the first one also) (Bill Moseley as Chop Top… Oingo Boingo on the soundtrack… sexual tension with the chainsaw… the dinner scene… Leatherface <3… it has it all…)

- Society (Do not go into this expecting a good solid film. Go into it expecting to have a very confusing, VERY FUN time. One million bonus points for The Shunting.)

- Sleepaway Camp (another campy cult classic. The most wtf acting, wtf dialogue, wtf line delivery, WTF AMOUNT OF MEN IN BOOTY SHORTS, wtf kills and wtf ending. Also diversity win!)

- Slither (now that’s what I can body horror! This film is outrageous it’s insane it’s… goopy… lots of slugs. Great mix of horror and comedy imo)

- Ready Or Not (a “death game” premise with an almost cartoonish quality? The characters are all… all such characters, they did great fleshing out a large-ish cast. They did a great job in general. Also funny. Also WICKED set design.)

- Hereditary (a predictable answer, but I think it earns the praise. It’s uniquely effective at being… horrifying, as a horror film. The sense of dread in this film is something special.)

- Silence of the Lambs (another obligatory mention. It puts the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again.)

- Terrifier, 1 2 and 3! (obligatory Terrifier franchise mention. Art the Clown is just a silly little guy. God forbid a clown have hobbies.)

[bog-e]

damn ye... let neptune strike ye dead, winslow!!! HARK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! hark triton.... hark!!!!!!!! bellow, bid our father the sea king rise from the depths full foul in his fury!! black waves teeming with salt foam to smother this young mouth with pungent slime, to choke ye! engorging yer organs till ye turn blue and bloated with bilge and brine and can scream no more.... only when he, crowned in cockle shells with slitherin tentacle tail and steaming beard take up his fell be-finned arm, his coral-tine trident screeches banshee like in the tempest and plunges right through yer gullet!!!!! bursting ye!!! a bulging bladder no more, but a blasted bloody film now and nothing for the harpies and the souls of dead sailors to peck and claw and feed upon only to be lapped up and swallowed by the infinite waters of the dread emperor himself... forgotten to any man.... to any time, forgotten to any god or devil, forgotten to even the sea, for any stuff or part of winslow, even any scanting of your soul, is winslow no more! but is now.... itself, the sea.

[cybershadowmachine2]

"Hark Triton, hark! Bellow, bid our father the Sea King rise from the depths full foul in his fury! Black waves teeming with salt foam to smother this young mouth with pungent slime, to choke ye, engorging your organs til’ ye turn blue and bloated with bilge and brine and can scream no more -- only when he, crowned in cockle shells with slitherin’ tentacle tail and steaming beard take up his fell be-finned arm, his coral-tine trident screeches banshee-like in the tempest and plunges right through yer gullet, bursting ye -- a bulging bladder no more, but a blasted bloody film now and nothing for the harpies and the souls of dead sailors to peck and claw and feed upon only to be lapped up and swallowed by the infinite waters of the Dread Emperor himself -- forgotten to any man, to any time, forgotten to any god or devil, forgotten even to the sea, for any stuff for part of Winslow, even any scantling of your soul is Winslow no more, but is now itself the sea!"

[elliottsmithenthusiast]

HARK TRITON, HARK! BELLOW, BID OUR FATHER THE SEA KING RISE FROM THE DEPTHS FULL FOUL IN HIS FURY! BLACK WAVES TEEMING WITH SALT FOAM TO SMOTHER THIS YOUNG MOUTH WITH PUNGENT SLIME, TO CHOKE YE, ENGORGING YOUR ORGANS TIL' YE TURN BLUE AND BLOATED WITH BILGE AND BRINE AND CAN SCREAM NO MORE - ONLY WHEN HE, CROWNED IN COCKLE SHELLS WITH SLITHERIN' TENTACLE TAIL AND STEAMING BEARD TAKE UP HIS FELL BE-FINNED ARM, HIS CORAL-TINE TRIDENT SCREECHES BANSHEE-LIKE IN THE TEMPEST AND PLUNGES RIGHT THROUGH YER GULLET, BURSTING YE - A BULGING BLADDER NO MORE, BUT A BLASTED BLOODY FILM NOW AND NOTHING FOR THE HARPIES AND THE SOULS OF DEAD SAILORS TO PECK AND CLAW AND FEED UPON ONLY TO BE LAPPED UP AND SWALLOWED BY THE INFINITE WATERS OF THE DREAD EMPEROR HIMSELF - FORGOTTEN TO ANY MAN, TO ANY TIME, FORGOTTEN TO ANY GOD OR DEVIL, FORGOTTEN EVEN TO THE SEA, FOR ANY STUFF FOR PART OF WINSLOW, EVEN ANY SCANTLING OF YOUR SOUL IS WINSLOW NO MORE, BUT IS NOW ITSELF THE SEA!

[stoicbreviary]

James Vila Blake, Sonnets from Marcus Aurelius 11 

11.  

Ἄριστος τρόπος τοῦ ἀμύνεσθαι τὸ μὴ ἐξομοιοῦσθαι.

If a man has done me an injury, then to imitate him and act like him, so as to return him the same injury or do him some other hurt, is no way to put him or his behavior to discredit or to effect a reckoning. 

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 6.6 

11. 

I met an artist with his paints and brush:  What doing? said I. Worshiping, quoth he.  I hear no prayers, said I. He answered, Hush!  One worships what one fain would make or be.  Methought then how the earth adores the flowers  And the great trees, and violets love the lily  They fain would climb to, and the cloudy hours  Lean sunward up, with adoration stilly.  So unto what we love we look with praise,  And imitation, which is praise the more;  But when we love not, we look other ways,  And seek not for a likeness in our store.  Hark ’e! To breast a wrong, first meanly rate it;  Then in the fight ye must not imitate it. 

IMAGE: Winslow Homer, Artists Sketching in the White Mountains (1868) 

[pearlsoflongago]

Voices of April

Breezes, Blossoms, and Birds

Prunieurs en Fleurs/Plum Trees in Bloom by Clause Monet

The West Wind

It’s a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds’ cries; I never hear the west wind but tears are in my eyes. For it comes from the west lands, the old brown hills, And April’s in the west wind, and daffodils.

It’s a fine land, the west land, for hearts as tired as mine, Apple orchards blossom there, and the air’s like wine. There is cool green grass there, where men may lie at rest, And the thrushes are in song there, fluting from the nest.

‘Will ye not come home, brother? ye have been long away, It’s April, and blossom time, and white is the may; And bright is the sun, brother, and warm is the rain,— Will ye not come home, brother, home to us again?

‘The young corn is green, brother, where the rabbits run, It’s blue sky, and white clouds, and warm rain and sun. It’s song to a man’s soul, brother, fire to a man’s brain, To hear the wild bees and see the merry spring again.

‘Larks are singing in the west, brother, above the green wheat, So will ye not come home, brother, and rest your tired feet? I’ve a balm for bruised hearts, brother, sleep for aching eyes,’ Says the warm wind, the west wind, full of birds’ cries.

It’s the white road westwards is the road I must tread To the green grass, the cool grass, and rest for heart and head, To the violets and the warm hearts and the thrushes’ song, In the fine land, the west land, the land where I belong.

-John Masefield

De Roze Perzikboom/Blossoming Pear Tree by Vincent van Gogh

Home Thoughts, From Abroad

O, to be in England Now that April 's there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware, That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf, While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough In England—now!

And after April, when May follows, And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows! Hark, where my blossom'd pear-tree in the hedge Leans to the field and scatters on the clover Blossoms and dewdrops—at the bent spray's edge— That 's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, Lest you should think he never could recapture The first fine careless rapture! And though the fields look rough with hoary dew, All will be gay when noontide wakes anew The buttercups, the little children's dower —Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower!

—Robert Browning

Song of a Second April

April this year, not otherwise Than April of a year ago, Is full of whispers, full of sighs, Of dazzling mud and dingy snow; Hepaticas that pleased you so Are here again, and butterflies.

There rings a hammering all day, And shingles lie about the doors; In orchards near and far away The grey woodpecker taps and bores; And men are merry at their chores, And children earnest at their play.

The larger streams run still and deep, Noisy and swift the small brooks run Among the mullein stalks the sheep Go up the hillside in the sun, Pensively,—only you are gone, You that alone I cared to keep.

—Edna St. Vincent Millay

Pear Blossoms by Winslow Homer

[mxvanrichten]

They always say, "How are you doing?", but they never say

Let Neptune strike ye dead Winslow! HAAARK!

Hark Triton, hark! Bellow, bid our father the Sea King rise from the depths full foul in his fury! Black waves teeming with salt foam to smother this young mouth with pungent slime, to choke ye, engorging your organs til' ye turn blue and bloated with bilge and brine and can scream no more - only when he, crowned in cockle shells with slitherin' tentacle tail and steaming beard take up his fell be-finned arm, his coral-tine trident screeches banshee-like in the tempest and plunges right through yer gullet, bursting ye - a bulging bladder no more, but a blasted bloody film now and nothing for the harpies and the souls of dead sailors to peck and claw and feed upon only to be lapped up and swallowed by the infinite waters of the Dread Emperor himself - forgotten to any man, to any time, forgotten to any god or devil, forgotten even to the sea, for any stuff for part of Winslow, even any scantling of your soul is Winslow no more, but is now itself the sea!

[bunnygotchi]

OOH!

Damn ye! Let Neptune strike ye dead Winslow! HAAARK!

Hark Triton, hark! Bellow, bid our father the Sea King rise from the depths full foul in his fury! Black waves teeming with salt foam to smother this young mouth with pungent slime, to choke ye, engorging your organs til’ ye turn blue and bloated with bilge and brine and can scream no more -- only when he, crowned in cockle shells with slitherin’ tentacle tail and steaming beard take up his fell be-finned arm, his coral-tine trident screeches banshee-like in the tempest and plunges right through yer gullet, bursting ye -- a bulging bladder no more, but a blasted bloody film now and nothing for the harpies and the souls of dead sailors to peck and claw and feed upon only to be lapped up and swallowed by the infinite waters of the Dread Emperor himself -- forgotten to any man, to any time, forgotten to any god or devil, forgotten even to the sea, for any stuff for part of Winslow, even any scantling of your soul is Winslow no more, but is now itself the sea!

[vultureworth]

who give a shit about the 4th everyone look at my funny beaste instead

[will1]

Bitch

hey you sho Hru, sry i meant to write Tumblr tells me to 'Go ahead, put anything.' so i wil i will do tht

Thomas Wake : Yer fond of me lobster aint' ye? I seen it - yer fond of me lobster! Say it! Say it. Say it!Ephraim Winslow : I don't have to say nothin'.Thomas Wake : Damn ye! Let Neptune strike ye dead Winslow! HAAARK!Thomas Wake : Hark Triton, hark! Bellow, bid our father the Sea King rise from the depths full foul in his fury! Black waves teeming with salt foam to smother this young mouth with pungent slime, to choke ye, engorging your organs til' ye turn blue and bloated with bilge and brine and can scream no more - only when he, crowned in cockle shells with slitherin' tentacle tail and steaming beard take up his fell be-finned arm, his coral-tine trident screeches banshee-like in the tempest and plunges right through yer gullet, bursting ye - a bulging bladder no more, but a blasted bloody film now and nothing for the harpies and the souls of dead sailors to peck and claw and feed upon only to be lapped up and swallowed by the infinite waters of the Dread Emperor himself - forgotten to any man, to any time, forgotten to any god or devil, forgotten even to the sea, for any stuff for part of Winslow, even any scantling of your soul is Winslow no more, but is now itself the sea!Ephraim Winslow : Alright, have it your way. I like your cookin'.

[somebaconlover]

The Lighthouse (2019)

Directed by Robert Eggers

Cinematography by Jarin Blaschke

Starring Robert Pattinson, Willem Dafoe and Valeriia Karamän

"Hark Triton, hark! Bellow, bid our father the Sea King rise from the depths full foul in his fury! Black waves teeming with salt foam to smother this young mouth with pungent slime, to choke ye, engorging your organs til' ye turn blue and bloated with bilge and brine and can scream no more - only when he, crowned in cockle shells with slitherin' tentacle tail and steaming beard take up his fell be-finned arm, his coral-tine trident screeches banshee-like in the tempest and plunges right through yer gullet, bursting ye - a bulging bladder no more, but a blasted bloody film now and nothing for the harpies and the souls of dead sailors to peck and claw and feed upon only to be lapped up and swallowed by the infinite waters of the Dread Emperor himself - forgotten to any man, to any time, forgotten to any god or devil, forgotten even to the sea, for any stuff for part of Winslow, even any scantling of your soul is Winslow no more, but is now itself the sea!"

[boycterium]

"DAMN YE! Let Neptune strike ye dead, Winslow! HAAARK! Hark, Triton! Hark! Bellow! Bid our father, the Sea King, rise from the depths, full-foul in his fury, black waves teeming with salt-foam, to smother this young mouth with pungent slime, to choke ye, engorging your organs 'till ye turn blue and bloated with bilge and brine and can scream no more... only when, he, crowned in cockle shells with slithering tentacled tail and steaming beard, takes up his fell, be-finnèd arm – his coral-tined trident screeches banshee-like in the tempest and plunges right through yer gullet! BURSTING YE, a bulging bladder no more, but a blasted bloody film now – a nothing for the Harpies and the souls of dead sailors to peck and claw and feed upon, only to be lapped up and swallowed by the infinite waters of the Dread Emperor himself, forgotten to any man, to any time, forgotten to any god or devil, forgotten even to the sea... for any stuff or part of Winslow, even any scantling of your soul, is Winslow no more, but is now itself the sea!" Sunday

The Lighthouse(2018) Thursday

[mrsjadecurtiss]

me trying not to say Hark Winslow every 2 minutes