Synaesthesia Technicolor
Mostly I just reblog stuff I like, and swear a lot

Also I am very lazy about punctuation
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edwardspoonhands:

The whole SciShow office is so freaking stoked about this it’s adorable. To be clear, I also have not been this excited about a movie (that wasn’t based on my brother’s book) since Deathly Hallows.

Honestly, I’m so sick and tired of movies about WWII - BUT, this I would watch. And not just cos of Benny. (But partly cos of Benny, duh.)

fuckingconversations:

wishuponawish:

hookandthedaggersxvx:

Virginity only matters if you’re lighting the black flame candle to summon witches.

Actually, When people talk about “blood of a virgin”, what’s actually meant is “virgin blood”, aka blood that’s never before been used in a ritual.

Therefore, virginity doesn’t matter for anything.

*noises of comprehension and frustration that I didn’t make that connection before*

… Awesome, TIL. But that doesn’t change that the black flame candle could only be lit by a virgin in Hocus Pocus. They specifically said “a virgin”. Not “virgin blood”. Just saying.

thestraggletag:

thestraggletag:

submariet:

VAN EYCK

I lost it at the end.

Okay, I had to check out the Van Eyck thing. I was a bit in denial because, come on, every single person can’t look like President Putin!

There are no words to describe how wrong I was.

This cracks me up every time

(Source: cheekygeekymonkey)

just-other-wallflower:

The original idea was from a photograph, but the drawing is mine. Hope you like it!

Very cool!

(Is one of the F-holes all fucky or is that just the light?)

just-other-wallflower:

The original idea was from a photograph, but the drawing is mine. Hope you like it!

Very cool!

(Is one of the F-holes all fucky or is that just the light?)

fozmeadows:

scienceofsarcasm:

Evening Post: August 12, 1899.
"She immediately alighted, caught hold of the astonished youth, and gave him a sound thrashing, using her fists in a scientific fashion…”

I would love to know what this means.

I think that might be code for “punched him in the balls with devastating accuracy”.

This is my new favorite thing ever. LADY CYCLIST 4 PRESIDENT

flowergirlrobichiko:

thecatsmustbecrazy:

special delivery

BRING ME SCHRÖDINGER’S HEAD

flowergirlrobichiko:

thecatsmustbecrazy:

special delivery

BRING ME SCHRÖDINGER’S HEAD

carypm:

walkingfoxiest:

a post where I explain with images how foxes are the best thing ever, and how if you disagree you are obviously wrong

Is it possible to domesticate a fox I want one as a pet

Oh lord those last three though ahahah

suckmygenitals:

lokimenow:

emkaymlp:

the gifs didnt load so it just looked like the stairs were talking to the trees

image

why am i laughing so hard at this

i’ve seen this so many times and i cry every time

(Source: brokenthimble)

beben-eleben:

Diggie Vitt’s incredibly surreal photography

(Source: jedavu)

johnnotegbert:

someonesthunderboltsomeday:

lsdandthc:

skittlezthecat:

da-sy:

redvinesgiraffe:


You were on your way home when you died.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that’s when you met me.
“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”
“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.
“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”
“Yup,” I said.
“I… I died?”
“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.
You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”
“More or less,” I said.
“Are you god?” You asked.
“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”
“My kids… my wife,” you said.
“What about them?”
“Will they be all right?”
“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”
“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”
“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”
“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”
“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”
You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”
“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”
“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.
“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”
“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”
“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”
“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”
“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”
“Where you come from?” You said.
“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”
“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”
“So what’s the point of it all?”
“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”
“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.
I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”
“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”
“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”
“Just me? What about everyone else?”
“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”
You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”
“All you. Different incarnations of you.”
“Wait. I’m everyone!?”
“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
“I’m every human being who ever lived?”
“Or who will ever live, yes.”
“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”
“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.
“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.
“And you’re the millions he killed.”
“I’m Jesus?”
“And you’re everyone who followed him.”
You fell silent.
“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”
You thought for a long time.
“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”
“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”
“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”
“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”
“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”
“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”
And I sent you on your way.

O_O

yesss i found it again! one of my all time favourite reads.

Philosophy went to the max right here

OI SCROLL BACK UP AND READ ALL OF IT!

I was really intrigued by this

Source

Ahh I love this every time I come across it

johnnotegbert:

someonesthunderboltsomeday:

lsdandthc:

skittlezthecat:

da-sy:

redvinesgiraffe:

You were on your way home when you died.

It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.

And that’s when you met me.

“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”

“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.

“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”

“Yup,” I said.

“I… I died?”

“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.

You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”

“More or less,” I said.

“Are you god?” You asked.

“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”

“My kids… my wife,” you said.

“What about them?”

“Will they be all right?”

“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”

You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”

“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”

“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”

“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”

“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”

You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”

“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”

“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”

“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”

I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.

“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”

“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”

“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”

“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”

“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”

“Where you come from?” You said.

“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”

“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”

“So what’s the point of it all?”

“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”

“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.

I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”

“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”

“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”

“Just me? What about everyone else?”

“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”

You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”

“All you. Different incarnations of you.”

“Wait. I’m everyone!?”

“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.

“I’m every human being who ever lived?”

“Or who will ever live, yes.”

“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”

“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.

“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.

“And you’re the millions he killed.”

“I’m Jesus?”

“And you’re everyone who followed him.”

You fell silent.

“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”

You thought for a long time.

“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”

“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”

“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”

“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”

“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”

“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”

And I sent you on your way.

O_O

yesss i found it again! one of my all time favourite reads.

Philosophy went to the max right here

OI SCROLL BACK UP AND READ ALL OF IT!

I was really intrigued by this

Source

Ahh I love this every time I come across it

burdened-with-glorious-love:

asylum-art:

Dietmar Voorworld is an artist who takes rocks, pebbles and leaves he finds in nature and turns them into memorable pieces of circular land art.

 

R

monobeartheater:

djsais:

arceeofficial:

june-and-the-ocean:

egberts:

if you try to tell me cold doesnt have a smell you’re wrong

when its really cold you can literally smell how cold it is

SWEET JESUS

SOMEONE UNDERSTANDS

OH MY GOD.

I TELL PEOPLE THAT IT SMELLS “SHARP” WHEN IT’S COLD AND PEOPLE THINK I’M FUCKING INSANE.

DEAR CHRIST

COLD SMELLS THE SAME WAY SOME METALS SMELL

Rain smells round, cold smells sharp, and spring in general smells curly.

and heat smells fat and heavy

Welcome to synaesthesia, my friends!

moosecannoncop:

trying to sing both parts in a disney song like

A WHOLE NEW WORLdon’t you dare close your eyes

A HUNDRED THOUShold your breath it gets better

I’M LIKE A SHOOTING STAR, I’VE COME SO FAR, I CAN’T GO BACK TO WHEREa whole new wooorrlllEVERY TURN A SURPRIwith new horizonEVERY MOMENT GETS BETTER

YES.

Except lately it’s been “I’ve Decided to Marry You” from A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder for me.

maybetwice:

verothexeno:

Le Dragon Noir by YoukaiYume

I WOULD HANG THIS ON MY WALL

HOMG SO COOL.

The artist (I was going to say “she”, but I’m not sure why I assumed it’s a she? I don’t know.) also has a badass Mikasa “We Can Do It” parody poster and Sailor My Little Ponies. LOVE IT.

maybetwice:

verothexeno:

Le Dragon Noir by YoukaiYume

I WOULD HANG THIS ON MY WALL

HOMG SO COOL.

The artist (I was going to say “she”, but I’m not sure why I assumed it’s a she? I don’t know.) also has a badass Mikasa “We Can Do It” parody poster and Sailor My Little Ponies. LOVE IT.