if I hear one more dead-eyed hipster
tell me that art is dead, I will personally summon Shakespeare
from the grave so he can tell them every reason
why he wishes he were born in a time where
he could have a damn Gmail account.
The day after I taught my mother
how to send pictures over Iphone she texted
me a blurry image of our cocker spaniel ten times in a row.
Don’t you dare try to tell me that that is not beautiful.
But whatever, go ahead and choose to stay in
your backwards-hoping-all-inclusive club
while the rest of us fall in love over Skype.
Send angry letters to state representatives,
as we record the years first sunrise so
we can remember what beginning feels like when
we are inches away from the trigger.
Lock yourself away in your Antoinette castle
while eat cake and tweet to the whole universe that we did.
Hashtag you’re a pretentious ass hole.
Van Gogh would have taken 20 selflies a day.
Sylvia Plath would have texted her lovers
nothing but heart eyed emojis when she ran out of words.
Andy Warhol would have had the worlds weirdest Vine account,
and we all would have checked it every morning while we
Snap Chat our coffee orders to the people
we wish were pressed against our lips instead of lattes.
This life is spilling over with 85 year olds
rewatching JFK’s assassination and
7 year olds teaching themselves guitar over Youtube videos.
Never again do I have to be afraid of forgetting
what my fathers voice sounds like.
No longer must we sneak into our families phonebook
to look up an eating disorder hotline for our best friend.
No more must I wonder what people in Australia sound like
or how grasshoppers procreate.
I will gleefully continue to take pictures of tulips
in public parks on my cellphone
and you will continue to scoff and that is okay.
But I hope, I pray, that one day you will realize how blessed
you are to be alive in a moment where you can google search
how to say I love you in 164 different languages.
b.e.fitzgerald (Art is a Facebook status about your winter break.)
I like this promo image from the Pokemon official twitter
I AM EXTREMELY OKAY WITH THIS.
Space Tacos - tortillas are used to replace bread on Station, and can last a year, thanks to the scientists at Taco Bell: http://www.cnet.com/news/houston-we-have-a-tortilla-problem/
Here’s what it’s like to make a sandwich in weightlessness, using one of those floating, ageless, tasty tortillas.
Tonight you will eat fish. Tomorrow, you may die. - Moiraine to Faile, from The Dragon Reborn by Robert Jordan
Can I just be this person? Beautiful.
In which I write about the nightmare I had last night.
There has only been five female characters comfirmed playable compared to fifteen male characters.
I’m amazed at those exact numbers because 33% is the point where men will start thinking there’s a majority of women in a group.
Logical conclusion: women are actually elite soldiers. One woman could easily best three men.
Female women warriors of the Japanese upper class are known as onna-bugeisha (女武芸者). They are members of the bushi (samurai) class in feudal Japan who were trained to use weapons to protect their, honor, family, and household from enemies. Many of them were widows, wives, daughters, and even rebel women who engaged in battle beside samurai men. See more at: http://www.kcpwindowonjapan.com/2014/03/heroic-women-of-the-samurai-class/
Various ways of making armor and weapons.
Armour from foam flooring tiles - http://bioweapons.wordpress.com/2010/06/21/mass-effect-n7-armor-build/
I STILL WANNA MAKE A NIGHTMARE COSPLAY AAAAAH
People have offered many potential explanations for this discrepancy, but this ad highlights the importance of the social cues that push girls away from math and science in their earliest childhood years.