deadpoetscrusade - Tumblr blog

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The sky last night....

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Just learned about the existence of this poem written by Vincent Starrett in 1942. I'm always so happy when I can learn more about the Sherlockian fandom and discover more of Sherlockiana.

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love shakespeare. did a hamlet run tonight, looked someone dead in the eye to say “am i a coward?” during a speech and the fucker shrugged and nodded

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Ship, by anonymous, 1600 - 1699

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Hannibal s1e1 "Apéritif" Happy 11th Anniversary to nbc Hannibal!

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An extraordinary Acheulean handaxe knapped around a fossil shell circa 500,000-300,000 years ago.

The maker appears to have deliberately flaked around the shell to preserve and place it in a central position. As a result this handaxe has been described as an early example of artistic thought.

From West Tofts, Norfolk.

Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology, University of Cambridge, Courtesy Alison Fisk

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Haha this green loser just turned up at my Christmas party saying I can hit him for free??? He said he'll return it one year from now but, like, how's he gonna do that without a head? ;) I'm going to get such a good grade in chivalry for thiwait what the FUCK

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I am a museum girl. above everything I am a museum girl

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Mr Gaiman what is your favorite ice cream flavor?

I think the ritual of stabbing Julius Caesar on the Ides of March is an important Tumblr tradition that needs to be maintained for coming generations.

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"i'm fine" *disappears in the fog and is never found again*

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Isn't it odd how much fatter a book gets when you've read it several times? As if something were left between the pages every time you read it. Feelings, thoughts, sounds, smells... and then, when you look at the book again many years later, you find yourself there too.. a slightly younger self, slightly different, as if the book had preserved you like a pressed flower... both strange and familiar.

- Corlenia Funke, The Inkheart

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‘We have no reason to be mistrustful of our world… If it holds terrors than they are our terrors’ and we should try to love them. They are like the dragons in old myth that, when approached directly, turn out not to be dragons at all but helpless royalty in need of our attentions.

pg.xxi, Introduction:

Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke

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[image id: a four-page comic. it is titled “immortality” after the poem by clare harner (more popularly known as “do not stand at my grave and weep”). the first page shows paleontologists digging up fossils at a dig. it reads, “do not stand at my grave and weep. i am not there. i do not sleep.” page two features several prehistoric creatures living in the wild. not featured but notable, each have modern descendants: horses, cetaceans, horsetail plants, and crocodilians. it reads, “i am a thousand winds that blow. i am the diamond glints on snow. i am the sunlight on ripened grain. i am the gentle autumn rain.” the third page shows archaeopteryx in the treetops and the skies, then a modern museum-goer reading the placard on a fossil display. it reads, “when you awaken in the morning’s hush, i am the swift uplifting rush, of quiet birds in circled flight. i am the soft stars that shine at night. do not stand at my grave and cry.” the fourth page shows a chicken in a field. it reads, “i am not there. i did not die” / end id]

a comic i made in about 15 hours for my school’s comic anthology. the theme was “evolution”

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take the 2024 dostoyevsky-official challenge: every month, learn one poem by heart. it could be in any language, it could be poetry you already know, it could be poetry you're reading for the first time, it could be a sonnet, it could be a ballad: go wild (but for this, i recommend choosing canonical poetry in your chosen language, not poetry in translation, nor something new). above all, poetry, language charged with meaning to the ultimate degree, is meant to be read aloud, to be felt with the tongue. by the end of the year, you'll have a better intuitive understanding of the poet's craft, of the possibility and beauty of language, an improved reading style, and, through the memorization process, a deep knowledge of each chosen poem—and you'll have committed 12 poems to heart, sitting around for any occasion, keeping you company wherever you go

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the way I’ve been waiting for this my entire life

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"With Frankenstein’s abandonment of his creation, Adam is thus separated from society, detached from those who would teach him the rules and norms of the world. Adam then moves into margin, or the liminal phase, unfettered as Promethean clay, in a state of unbeing ready to be molded into a perfect member of society, “the very prototype of sacred poverty….In the words of King Lear [representing] ‘naked unaccommodated man.’”"

-excerpt from my aforementioned anthropology final