Elephants at the door

This is who I am. This is what I enjoy. Have fun.

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  1. theneedledrop:

    bestpal:

    IM LAUGHING SO FUCKING HARD

    THIS IS PERFECT!

     
     
  2. Excerpt from “A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man” by James Joyce

    He had wandered into a maze of narrow and dirty streets. From the foul laneways he heard bursts of hoarse riot and wrangling and the drawling of drunken singers. He walked onward, dismayed, wondering whether he had strayed into the quarter of the Jews. Women and girls dressed in long vivid gowns traversed the street from house to house. They were leisurely and perfumed. A trembling seized him and his eyes grew dim. The yellow gas-flames arose before his troubled vision against the vapoury sky, burning as if before an altar. Before the doors and in the lighted halls groups were gath- ered arrayed as for some rite. He was in another world: he had awakened from a slumber of centuries. He stood still in the middle of the roadway, his heart clamouring against his bosom in a tumult. A young woman dressed in a long pink gown laid her hand on his arm to detain him and gazed into his face. She said gaily: —Good night, Willie dear! Her room was warm and lightsome. A huge doll sat with her legs apart in the copious easy-chair beside the bed. He tried to bid his tongue speak that he might seem at ease, watching her as she undid her gown, noting the proud con- scious movements of her perfumed head. As he stood silent in the middle of the room she came over to him and embraced him gaily and gravely. Her round arms held him firmly to her and he, seeing her face lifted to him in serious calm and feeling the warm calm rise and fall of her breast, all but burst into hysterical weeping. Tears of joy and relief shone in his delighted eyes and his lips parted though they would not speak. She passed her tinkling hand through his hair, calling him a little rascal. —Give me a kiss, she said. His lips would not bend to kiss her. He wanted to be held firmly in her arms, to be caressed slowly, slowly, slowly. In her arms he felt that he had suddenly become strong and fearless and sure of himself. But his lips would not bend to kiss her. With a sudden movement she bowed his head and joined her lips to his and he read the meaning of her movements in her frank uplifted eyes. It was too much for him. He closed his eyes, surrendering himself to her, body and mind, con- scious of nothing in the world but the dark pressure of her softly parting lips. They pressed upon his brain as upon his lips as though they were the vehicle of a vague speech; and between them he felt an unknown and timid pressure, darker than the swoon of sin, softer than sound or odour.

     
     
  3. cinyma:

    Rami Malek in The Master (2012)

     
     
  4. (Source: mgustave)

     
     
  5. "Persona"- Ingmar Bergman 1966

    "Persona"- Ingmar Bergman 1966

     
     
  6. Are we a self destructive race? Do we need hardships in our life to ultimately feel alive? Someone once told me that some people are most happy when they are unhappy. So that means that some people are self destructive, and will cause turmoil in their life to feel ‘normal’. Why has this become a norm for people? What happened to cause this in some people’s culture?

     
     
  7. "Hello..?"
    “Yes, a collect call for Mrs. Floyd from Mr. Floyd.
    Will you accept the charges from United States?”

    “Oh, He hung up! That’s your residence, right? I wonder why he hung up?
    Is there supposed to be someone else there besides your wife there to answer?”

    “Hello?”
    “This is United States calling, are we reaching…
    “See he keeps hanging up, and it’s a man answering.”

     
     
  8. I’m working on a short story in which an
Android begins to feel emotion after being subjected to a dream sequence program his owner develops for him

    I’m working on a short story in which an
    Android begins to feel emotion after being subjected to a dream sequence program his owner develops for him

     
     
  9. This is the last picture I have with both of my parents before their divorce. I am happy that this was taken on such a special day. Sad that the most recent picture I have that includes both my Mom and Dad is over two years old.

    This is the last picture I have with both of my parents before their divorce. I am happy that this was taken on such a special day. Sad that the most recent picture I have that includes both my Mom and Dad is over two years old.

     
     
  10. Education After Auschwitz

    One section of this reading that I found to be interesting is when Adorno talks about love. Should there be love in a classroom? Should a teacher love his or her students? This is a very good question. “Love is something immediate and in essence contradicts mediated relationships. The exhortation to love-even in its imperative form, that one should do it-is itself part of the ideology coldness perpetuates. It bears the compulsive, oppressive quality that counteracts the ability to love” (Adorno 308). From my understanding of the text, this section deals with how a teacher should treat a student. Adorno does not come out and say that teachers should or should not love their students. He is unsure on the matter himself. A relationship in the classroom is mediated and he says that love will contradict that relationship between a teacher and student. If a teacher feels the love, he or she should express it. If the feeling is not present, the teacher should not fake it, 

    I feel that a teacher should be human with each student. He or she should care about their well being, but loving someone is a big step. It is very easy to say “I love you.” but is the feeling actually there? Does the speaker actually love who he or she is speaking to? Teachers should express how they actually feel towards students. I have had many teachers in the past who have liked me and some I still stay in contact with even today. That does not mean that these teachers loved me, perhaps they were fond of me and enjoyed having me in class. Love in a classroom is definitely a deep philosophical question that should be debated more often,