MicsMacs

iOS - Macs - Aikido - Vege -Tattoo - Stuff - Books - Comics

Come rain come on and rain on me
wash away this pain in me
I see the days disdain of me
The night is where I ought to be

And I know you’re gonna pray for me
And I know you’re gonna wait for me
Until I won’t be there to haunt our hearts no more

The paper’s ripped and torn
You paint your fence and mow your lawn
No one can mend this damage done
I packed my bags and I’ll be gone

And I know you’re gonna pray for me
And I know you’re gonna wait for me
Until I won’t be there to haunt our hearts no more

(Source: youtube.com)

The Curse of Smart People

But it’s not perfect. Smart people have a problem, especially (although not only) when you put them in large groups. That problem is an ability to convincingly rationalize nearly anything.

FINDER

‘Ab origine’ is a pre-Roman term meaning ‘original inhabitants.’ It means, essentially, someone who’s been in a place since the earliest time. It generally refers to people who lived close to the earth, or whose ancestors did. People travel, people settle; people look at each other and embrace or else fight. People see kin; people see enemies. Push and shove over territory may not be as old as the hills, but it is as old as King Of The Mountain. Aboriginal science fiction deals with alien societies. FINDER’s aliens are all one family, but their coming to understand that isn’t going to come easily.

Funeral Customs: Chapter IV: Wakes, Mutes, Wailers, Sin-Eating, Totemism, Death-Taxes

A less known but even more remarkable functionary, whose professional services were once considered necessary to the dead, is the sin-eater. Savage tribes have been known to slaughter an animal on the grave, in the belief that it would take upon itself the sins of the dead. In the same manner, it was the province of the human scapegoat to take upon himself the moral trespasses of his client—and whatever the consequences might be in the after life—in return for a miserable fee and a scanty meal. That such a creature should be unearthed from a remote period of pagan history would be surprising enough, but to find reliable evidence of his existence in the British Isles a hundred years ago is surely very much more remarkable.

Professor Evans of the Presbyterian College, Carmarthen, actually saw a sin-eater about the year 1825, who was then living near Llanwenog, Cardiganshire. Abhorred by the superstitious villagers as a thing unclean, the sin-eater cut himself off from all social intercourse with his fellow creatures by reason of the life he had chosen; he lived as a rule in a remote place by himself, and those who chanced to meet him avoided him as they would a leper. This unfortunate was held to be the associate of evil spirits, and given to witchcraft, incantations and unholy practices; only when a death took place did they seek him out, and when his purpose was accomplished they burned the wooden bowl and platter from which he had eaten the food handed across, or placed on the corpse for his consumption.

Howlett mentions sin-eating as an old custom in Hereford, and thus describes the practice: “The corpse being taken out of the house, and laid on a bier, a loaf of bread was given to the sin-eater over the corpse, also a maga-bowl of maple, full of beer. These consumed, a fee of sixpence was given him for the consideration of his taking upon himself the sins of the deceased, who, thus freed, would not walk after death.” He suggests the connection between the sin-eater and the Jewish scapegoat of the old Testament.

23 Female Cartoonists On Drawing Their Bodies

We need women’s bodies in our stories, having sex and getting our periods and eating food and doing whatever bodies do, so that the things our bodies do are normalized and present

Amazon Gets Increasingly Nervous | Whatever

"I think it is a very good thing that self-publishing and electronic publishing has come and shaken things up in the publishing field; it’s wonderful that authors can connect with readers without having to route through a publisher they have to convince that this audience is there."


“In sum and once again: Amazon is not your friend. Neither is any other corporation. It and they do what they do for their own interest and are more than willing to try to make you try believe that what they do for their own benefit is in fact for yours. It’s not. In this particular case, this is not about readers or authors or anyone else but Amazon wanting eBooks capped at $9.99 for its own purposes. It should stop pretending that this is about anything other than that. Readers, authors, and everyone else should stop pretending it’s about anything other than that, too.”

Epilepsy is dancing
She’s the Christ now departing
And I’m finding my rhythm
As I twist in the snow

All the metal burned in me
Down the brain of my river
That fire was searching
For a waterway home

I cry “glitter is love!”
Antony and the Johnsons - “Epilepsy Is Dancing”
My eyes pinned inside
With green jewels
Hanging like Christmas stars
From a golden vein

As I came to a screaming
Hold me while I’m dreaming
For my fingers are curling
And I cannot breathe

Then I cried in the kitchen
How I’d seen your ghost witching
As a soldering blue line
Between my eyes

Cut me in quadrants
Leave me in the corner
Oh now it’s passing
Oh now I’m dancing

(Source: youtube.com)

Antony and the Johnsons - Cut the World

for so long i’ve obeyed that feminine decree
i’ve always contained your desire to hurt me

but when will i turn and cut the world?

my eyes are coral, absorbing your dreams
my skin is a surface to push to extremes
my heart is a record of dangerous scenes

but when will i turn and cut the world?

(Source: youtube.com)

Johan Olsen: Man er der bare, når døren går op - Politiken.dk

Hvornår sluttede din ungdom?

Med tiden går sjælen hen og bliver et kæmpe hus

et slot i mange dimensioner

med snørklede, dunkle gange

og masser af rum

Man kan ikke altid bestemme hvilket rum, man går ind i

Man er der bare, når døren går op

Jeg åbner en dør

og netop som døren smækker bag mig

kommer en ny dør til syne foran mig

og da dén smækker bag mig er der en ny

og en ny, og en ny, og en ny …

Et rum bliver større og større for hvert skridt jeg tager

Så jeg forsvinder og bliver til ingenting

i et tomt univers

Et rum er fuldt af børn

der sidder ned på gulvet

og rækker deres arme op mod mig

og skriger med deres øjne

Bag en af dørene er havet

Som langsomme bølger mod stenstranden

Som bølger, der beroliger mit sind

Som et lille hjørne af havnen

der, hvor det er så smukt

at solen glimter i ringene

fra mine tårer

Som flænsende, rasende storm

er havet

Som alt det, der aldrig blev sagt

er havet

som alt det, som blev ved med at synke i dybet

med årene

er havet

Jeg elsker havet

men havet elsker ingen

Et af rummene er fuld af gamle sten

størknet magma og krystaller

der får ubevægeligt, uendeligt liv

når jeg ser på dem

Et andet sted ser jeg mig selv

klamre mig til sengen

for ikke at lette

for hvis jeg letter

ser jeg alting

Bag en dør af kold ild

ser jeg alle menneskers skæbner

fra de blev født

til de dør

og jeg lukker øjnene

og famler efter en udvej

mit ansigt er vådt af tårer

og der er ikke nogen, der tager mig i hånden

og ikke nogen der siger noget til mig

Jeg kan mærke alting

og ender som en kugle på det bølgende gulv

og der ligger jeg og overdøver hele menneskeheden

med en lyd

indtil INGENTING giver mig fred

Kom med her ind:

Her dufter af markblomster og blå himmel

og gader og caféer

og brune værtshuse

og forløst længsel

Her taler vi om smerten og lysten

og universets mysterier

og ingenting og andre ting

som betyder noget her. Nu.

Men her må du vente på mig udenfor

for nu går jeg ind i rummet, hvor jeg skal dø

Her er absolut stille

Vent, vent på mig

vent på mig

jeg kan ikke dø nu

jeg er bange

vent på mig

Men de her rum er også mine:

Der, hvor jeg ikke ved, hvad jeg skal sige

og når jeg så gør

så går det galt,

Der hvor vandet stiger og stiger i mørket

og jeg kan ikke finde ud,

Der, hvor jeg ligger i natten og vugger

frem og tilbage

og siger dit navn

og er ætsende ensom,

og svømmer beruset i en sommernat-skovsø af matematisk skønhed

Der, hvor Daisy står og tager imod mig

og griber mig i faldet

og heler mine sår

og tilgiver mig mine alt for mange fejl,

Der hvor jeg ligger i græsset

og ikke længere mærker det stikker

eller at insekterne kribler

og jeg bliver et med alt

alt det, der er udenfor det, at være menneske

Der, hvor asfalten forsvinder under mine fødder

og jeg styrter ned i en jungle

af misforståelser, dumheder og brudte løfter

og hvor blomsterne er giftige

og lavet af plastik,

Der, hvor jeg tænder en smøg til min pils og finder fred

En dag så jeg ind i spejlet

og rummet forsvandt foran mig og ned ad

og jeg lettede langsomt

og der så jeg alle min sjæls rum

bredt ud foran mig

Jeg så dem allesammen helt klart:

Hvert hjørne, hver sprække

hver skjulte skuffe, hvert hemmelige kammer

Da kunne jeg mærke, at jeg var alle steder

alle steder i universet:

I det tomme rum og i støvet

i blodet og i nebulaer

i sneen på fjeldet og i supernovaer

i dig og i mig

Jeg var, i det øjeblik, uendelig

Da blev jeg voksen

HDMI, DisplayPort, VGA, and DVI as Fast As Possible
Cool stuff!

(Source: youtube.com)

Comics is amazing because it is really one of the last pirate mediums – where one person can convey [his or her] complete artistic expression and get it out there to a wide range of people. On radio and TV, you need a license to do that. There is no government form you sign to make comics. You don’t have to take a licensing test to make comics. You can have an idea and make it real all on your own.

David Mack (from an interview in Brian Michael Bendis’ “Words for Pictures”)

(Source: johnathonolyon, via drdavidmrmack)