#novalis speaks

[flowers-and-fichte]

best quotes from the aforementioned defunctland video:

"this level of wiggling was simply not sustainable."

"the wiggles empire was an intoxicating gravy train. the kind that only comes from singing about potatoes and dancing with an octopus. and it was a machine that could not be stopped."

"a theme park would NEVER create mascot costumes to represent FOUR HUMAN MEN."

"nothing makes one face their own mortality more than being a wiggle."

every time the phrase "wiggles lore" is used.

[captainsophiestark]

So I forgot to tell you this, but the D&D movie is amazing! I was on the hunt for references to the game and spotted so many MCU references as well. I’m just wondering what you thought (don’t remember if I asked you this) and what the best part for you was.

Yesssssss omg!!! I freaking loved that movie too lol, I think they did a really good job of storytelling in a way that was accessible for a non-D&D player audience while still throwing in a lot of cool references and everything to the game for people who’d get them! Personally one of my favorite things is seeing Hugh Grant play a shitty person as a character lol, so I really enjoyed his performance! And omg I’ll literally NEVER stop shouting and being happy about the friendship between Edgin and Holga, I feel like we NEVER get a man and a woman as best friends without any weird romantic tension being thrown in as a b-plot, especially from Hollywood blockbusters 🙌 what was your favorite part?

[philosophybits]

Reason and the divine spirit do not speak audibly or strikingly enough from a human being — stones, trees, animals must speak in order to make the human being feel himself and make himself reflect.

Novalis, Logological Fragments II

[hammill-goes-fogwalking]

The issues & beauties of German music

(70s Kraut Rock )

Here, NOT ONE SINGLE SOUL talks about Krautrock 🌿 it seems like dead & forgotten (except CAN)

which is sad about this phenomenon :/ the only ones paying attention are prog magazines and music connoisseurs

Everyone talks about the Scorpions and Rammstein (in fact it's quality). Sometimes Boney M but... it's always the same: good music is too elite for the masses.

Even the band Eloy. Prog fans love them- the most listeners come from other places of the earth but not their origin country. Often a fault of the music industry, critics as well as the radio stations which really neglected these now in modern times.

//

The rhymes & language, pronunciation

Sure, worse languages exist. But to be honest, can you relax, with the German language? There's no flow at all, nothing like Italian or, you know, English. It's a popular opinion and what speaks against it?

Depends on the way someone sings and per region there is a difference but some harshness is always there.

//

Sung in English example: Eloy (again)

Some people are totally fine with the accent (their whole discography is in English sung by Frank Bornemann!!) others have problems getting into this band. Depends on the listener.

What often happened was that the groups had a British singer...

//

Old fashioned names

For example British rock: someone asks you, you say your idol is some random Jeff or Pete or whatever their names are. What about German musician's names? They're called Dieter or Jogi or Herbert or Udo

"Who's your favourite musician?" - Jürgen xy (sorry shouldn't sound mean)

People make jokes about old fashioned names, then why blaming yourself and getting sideeyed.

This is all a matter of coolness, let's move to the music...

//

A few information

Okay don't judge (seems extremely stereotype now) the people, musicians of the 60s and 70s were the first generation after WW2. You can imagine. The children of ex- patriots. They wanted to change something. BUT!! They were BOUND in the roots of their country.

There was a scene and later with many students and discotheques. There were artists from all over the world. The music is innovative and you can hear it even clearly. You can also hear their protest, spirit and the diversity of sounds.

There is nothing you can call THE Kraut. It's practically impossible to sum the sound up. Actually it's not a genre. That one word represents all the music made in Germany

//

An example.

You hear the instruments? The bass, drums, hard guitar, organs, saxophone EVERYTHING WORKS. SO FINE MUSIC.

Listen to it, create your own opinion.

Notes

1. So many songs by this one group called Lied des Teufels? Yeah. They're not known at all. That singer sounds like imitating Ian Gillan- Everyone can TRY to copy but they do it in their own style which is not copying, it's storytelling. (Kind of)

2. THE WHOLE THING SHOULD NOT MAKE ME SEEM PASSIONATE OR SOMETHING BECAUSE I DISCOVERED KRAUT LITERALLY YESTERDAY

3. Probably it's something that gets boring really fast

//

So...

Skillful musicians w/ ability to express themselves and the problems of their country. Wether the singing style is something for you or not- there are countless of other groups.

We HAVE TO speak about these forgotten acts again & give it a chance

[quotesfrommyreading]

TB is disintegration, febrilization; it is a disease of liquids—the body turning to phlegm and mucus and sputum and, finally, blood—and of air, of the need for better air. Cancer is something hard: the body tissues degenerating, turning to stone. Alice James, writing in her journal a year before she died from cancer in 1892, speaks of “this unholy granite substance in my breast.” But this lump is alive, a fetus with its own will. Novalis, in an entry written around 1798 for his encyclopedia project, defines cancer, along with gangrene, as “full-fledged parasites—they grow, are engendered, engender, have their structure, secrete, eat.” Cancer is a demonic pregnancy. St. Jerome must have been thinking of a cancer when he wrote: “The one there with his swollen belly is pregnant with his own death.” (“Alius tumenti aqualiculo mortem parturit.”)

TB is a disease of time, the fever that hastens things. TB speeds up life; highlights it; spiritualizes it. In both English and French, consumption “gallops.” Cancer has stages rather than gaits; it is “terminal.” Cancer works slowly, insidiously: the standard euphemism in obituaries is that someone has “died after a long illness.” Every characterization of cancer describes it as slow, and so it was first used metaphorically. “The word of him creepeth as a cankir” is the way Wyclif translated, in 1382, a phrase in II Timothy 2:17. (Among the earliest figurative uses of cancer are as a metaphor for “ennuie” and for “sloth.”) Metaphorically, cancer is not so much a disease of time as a disease or pathology of space. Its principal metaphors refer to topography (cancer “spreads” or “proliferates”; tumors are surgically “excised”) and its most dreaded consequence, short of death, is the mutilation or amputation of part of the body.

  —  Illness as Metaphor (Susan Sontag)

[elizabethanism]

💎 NOVALIS

“Philosophy is, strictly speaking, a homesickness.”

[talesofpassingtime]

As such he had to pass on to him childish beginner’s basics; but, with strange incongruity and on the side, so to speak, he had at the same time brought Adrian into first contact with the greatest things, opening for him the realm of world literature, awakening his curiosity with presentations that lured him into the vast expanses of the Russian, English, and French novel, encouraging him to study the lyric poetry of Shelley and Keats, Holderlin and Novalis, giving him Manzoni and Goethe, Schopenhauer and Meister Eckehart to read.

— Thomas Mann, Doctor Faustus 

[knightlyempress]

new introduction post! (will be pinned on my profile)

yo, my name is akito! i'm an afab genderfluid person! 🏳️‍🌈 my other nicknames are novalis and sakina!

my prounouns are he/him, they/them and il/lui/iel in french! i'm 26 years-old and i speak fluently french, english and japanese! 🇨🇵/🇬🇧/🇺🇲/🇯🇵

here, you'll find lists for my favourite jpop and kpop groups (my oshis and bias are also included on it), my favourite animes and my favourite video games!

with that, i hope we'll get along! 🙇🏻‍♀️

(et si vous êtes francophone, vous pouvez me parler en français si ça vous permet d'être plus à l'aise! 🤗)

[josephinegerardywriter]

Tag Game: Word Find

The awesome @zmlorenz tagged me for this! Thank you!!

My words are complain, scratch, rain, fix, and light, and I shall be using Puppet Kingdom for this. :)

-----

Complain

Meira steers past me, lugging her suitcase with both hands. “I can’t believe Althaia gets to just stand there while I have to put everything away myself,” she complains over her shoulder to Kadison, who watches on with no sympathy.

Scratch

“Sorry for taking so long,” I say sarcastically, scratching the back of my neck. It can’t be night already, can it?

Rain

Kadison steps aside and I jump down, stretching out my limbs and back. Three days of travelling with still more to go. My shoulders slump at the thought.

At least it’s not raining.

Fix

Cirillo comes beside me, eyes fixed on all the people running past. He says nothing, but his furrowed brow speaks volumes.

Light

“I don’t mind the castle…” I admit slowly, “But it could stand to lose some of the people there.”

“How rude. Novalie lives there.” Meira scoffs teasingly, diverting from the path to where sparky lamps fizzle out light and color over the silhouette of horses and carriage. “Besides, the nobles aren’t wholly bad.”

-----

I shall tag (with no pressure!) @sleepyowlwrites, @starry-sky-stuff, @stuffaboutwriting, and whoever else would like to do this! Your words are found, follow, fine, and figure. :)

[flowers-and-fichte]

let's play a tag game. three things you think of when you see this blog. will go the same for whoever reblogs it. basically you comment with three different things that come to mind whenever you see this blog. can be about a post, something that's mentioned often, etc. have fun!

[captainsophiestark]

For flufftober, 5 and 6 with platonic Peggy Carter? Thanks!

Sure thing!! I’m doing a different fic for every day, so I can’t do both prompts in one, but I have a great idea for 6 that I think will end up being very fun 😄 thanks so much for sending in a request!! ❤️❤️

[sasorikigai]

Does Hanzo like poetry? Literature? Would he consider writing himself, even theraputically?

Random Inbox Shenanigans || @extraordinarygrrls || always accepting!

Hanzo/Scorpion does have high propensity to speak in beautiful and lyrical prose; he tends to use lots of expressive and vivid language to create an image in the listener’s head. As poems use line breaks, rhyme, and other devices to help people read it the way it’s intended. Hanzo/Scorpion’s vocalizations tend to match poem in many ways that it reads off in a specific tempo and cadence. For he is a passionate and intense individual, he also tends to speak in emotive and powerful timbre, which further accentuates his speaking habits, which could be considered extraordinarily rhapsodic and poetic. 

I can see Hanzo delve a lot into Romanticism, for this literary movement was marked by a focus on the individual (and the unique perspective of a person, often guided by irrational, emotional impulses), a respect for nature and the primitive, and a celebration of the common man, it can be seen as a reaction to the huge changes in society that occurred during this period. It also parallels what Hanzo went through in canon media; for he often exhorts himself, and will value the time to look inward and determine his own path, lest there may be suggestions. Also, he can hugely relate to the insistence on isolation, for melancholy is a key feature of many works of Romanticism, usually seen as a reaction to inevitable failure - writers wished to express the pure beauty they perceived and failure to do so adequately resulted in despair and loss. 

“To romanticize the world is to make us aware of the magic, mystery and wonder of the world; it is to educate the senses to see the ordinary as extraordinary, the familiar as strange, the mundane as sacred, the finite as infinite.”(Novalis)

There also is certain sense of disappointment, unexplainable sadness and melancholy manifested themselves by escaping into solitude and Hanzo’s own once-distorted vision of the world becoming straightened. Those are the sources of the pessimistic worldview, that is the Weltschmerz. ‘World-pain’ or Weltschmerz is an expression for the sense of sadness and despondency induced by discrepancy of reality and ideals. Physical reality can never satisfy the demands of the mind. Weltschmerz resulted in the ‘cult of pain’; a pessimistic sense of how there is no cure for evil in the world. This world pain that caused depression, escapism and resignation as the individual felt powerless against all the injustice in the world, could be seen in the works like New Heloise and The Sorrows of Young Werther. 

As sentimentality, melancholy, love, and death have left such profound impact on Hanzo Hasashi’s being - he too, likes to therapeutically write, to fuel his catalytic urge to spill his emotions. When training, sparring, and/or even meditating does not soothe or calm his mind, he will spill his innermost thoughts upon sheets of paper and keep his writings.  Hanzo is highly sensitive, and often struggles with his life, as survivor’s guilt, along with myriads of mental issues (depression, trauma, PTSD, etc.) affect his life’s trivialities and the conventionality of society, lest Shirai Ryu remains reborn and revivified. He is also extremely devoted to the beauty and peace which he believed (as a human) and still believes (as his uncanny position of being not completely human, but human enough to feel such throes of torment and agony) could only be found in dreams and death. Also, let us not forget that Hanzo at one point was very close to committing hara-kiri, as he felt an enormous guilt and remorse. 

[museenkuss]

Suggestions for Valentine’s Day

wear a button-down stained with lipstick kisses and perfume your hair

read romantic poetry, but think romanticism (Novalis, Keats, Eichendorff, Blake...)

follow up: contemplate disappearing into the woods in hopes of getting abducted by fairies - be prepared to eat the offered foods and live in eternal mindless bliss, married to the Faerie Queen

stop waiting for you prince! become one yourself instead - be courageous and noble, wear silver and silk, kiss a princess

buy a new perfume for a new version of yourself that you’re planning of falling in love with. it’s a present from a secret admirer!

go to a museum and select a portrait you like. write a love letter. (it can be, of course, another kind of painting as well, or a long distance relationship, if there is no museum available - fall in love with Tintoretto’s Magdalene and her beautiful, devoted eyes, or Gérome’s Bacchante and her soft shoulder, her gorgeous nose. And if you fancy men - what about Caravaggio’s soft, cow-eyed lute player or Bronzino’s cool-proud young man with his elegant-cocky hand?)

kiss the roses. Don’t mind the thorns, the blood is a reminder that beauty can’t exist without pain

eat champagne truffles and read about french rococo art (Fragonard, Boucher, Watteau..)

leave lipstick kisses on the inside of your own wrists - “to love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance”

Do you have a crush?

steal their clothes and dress up as them. kiss the mirror. learn to imitate their handwriting. (don’t steal their watch and sink them in the ocean, though, if possible)

paint them in their truest form, in all their beauty and without any masks. In the end, the painting should have the power to ruin your life

Naturally this is all decadence for the fun of it, but the bottom line is this: for so long, it was “the love that dare not speak its name” so we’re shouting it now! Be yourself, love yourself, love your lovers, unapologetically!

[pickledpascal]

Study Of The Alien Mind

Chapter Fourteen: Some Things In Life Require A Little Push

Masterlist

Summary: While searching for Ana's address, Alexstrasza must go on a one woman mission to take the list of the names of the 400.

Warnings: Mild Violence, mild misogyny, espionage.

____

While John, Sara, Marcus, and Lucius were looking over documents and such, Alexstrasza and Laszlo came over to the group. Alexstrasza looked around for a moment before she grabbed a book to look through it.

Unfortunately, she didn’t catch Ana’s last name. But she was sure she was a part of the four hundred and she had a single mother. “How many people in the four hundred are single women with children?” Alexstrasza asked, looking up at the group.

They all looked at each other before John spoke up. “Surely not many…. But there is no full list of the four hundred so we can’t know for sure which woman it is.” He explained, grunting in frustration as he rubbed his temples.

Suddenly, an idea came to Laszlo’s mind as he looked over at Alexstrasza who was playing with the edge of a book. Cute. But not the point. “I know who may have a book of all the names in the four hundred. And I know who may be able to get them.” He smiled, gesturing to Alexstrasza.

“Laszlo, no. We cannot mess with the mayor!” John protested in a hushed tone, shaking his head.

Sara rolled her eyes. “We don’t have another choice, John. She’s also the most capable out of all of us to be able to get the book.” She argued, looking over at Alexstrasza but she was already gone.

“Laszlo! She’s gone!”John yelled out, running a hand over his face. “This is going to go horribly.” He sighed out, shaking his head.

Laszlo laughed a little. “Have some faith, John. She is, after all, a warrior.” He hummed. He trusted Alexstrasza with this mini-mission. John just needed to trust her more.

The woman was in her tactical suit, her mask over her mouth and nose. It was the evening so she’d be under the cover of darkness soon. Alexstrasza ran over roofs and buildings, finding herself in front of the Mayor’s building. The mask quickly turned from a mask into a helmet as she turned on the invisibility on her suit.

She slipped in through a window, climbing her way up there. Alexstrasza tried her best to be as quiet as she could but everything was so squeaky. She slowly opened up a drawer, cursing to herself at how squeaky it sounded. Alexstrasza quickly looked up, watching as the door opened. She grunted, going under the table, watching as the pair of legs walked around before they quickly left.

Alexstrasza sighed out as she got up from under the table, quickly looking through everything in the drawers. And she found it, a list of all the names of the four hundred. She flipped through it fast, taking pictures of each page with the camera attached to her helmet until she found the woman they were looking for.

Sybil Kane, single. With one daughter. Ana Kane.

The alien narrowed her eyes at the name for a moment, biting her lip as she put the book away and closed the drawer again. Quickly leaving through the window she came through, Alexstrasza flew back to the Institute which she assumed they would be there instead of the police station now.

Turning off the invisibility as her helmet retreated back into her suit, Alexstrasza walked into the Institute. She sighed out, happy she was able to breathe some fresh air, it was always so stuffy in her helmet.

“There she is now.” Laszlo sighed out, hugging Alexstrasza which surprised her but she leaned into it. “I knew you’d be fine, darling.” He smiled softly.

John and Sara stared at her. They’ve never seen her in her battle suit, it looked truly alien to them. It was skin tight and, unless you were a brothel worker, nothing was skin tight in the era. She looked futuristic. She was so it was just stating the obvious.

“D-Do you have the book?” John asked, coughing to regain his composure. If this thing with Laszlo didn’t work out, he’d have to ask Alexstrasza himself.

The alien shook her head and chuckled a little when their faces fell. “I have pictures. I didn’t want to have to return it and perhaps even be rightfully accused of stealing it.” She explained, shrugging.

“How did you even take photographs? Cameras take much time to set up.” John questioned, cocking his head at Alexstrasza.

Taking out a small little box that was attached to her hip, Alexstrasza set it on the table. The little cylinder attached to the box pointed upwards as she turned it on, the picture of Sybil Kane and her addresses showing. As well as showing that a woman named Ana was her daughter.

It amazed John and Sara. Just how technologically advanced were aliens? Apparently a lot more than humans. Their species had a lot to catch up on.

“We have all the information we need. We just need to knock on a few doors and see which one is inhabited by Ana. That may take all day though, so we should start tomorrow instead of starting today, well, tonight now.” Alexstrasza explained, taking a deep breath. She was tired after doing so much that day.

The others nodded as they listened to Alexstrasza. It was apparent she had leadership qualities. Confidence, taking control of situations, speaking out, etc. Laszlo wondered if she was more than just a warrior, perhaps she was a war leader or a general where she came from.

John took a deep breath as he stood up, “Well, goodnight then. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow.” He nodded curtly to Laszlo and Alexstrasza before he left to catch a carriage.

“Goodnight, Doctor Kriezler. You as well, Alexstrasza.” Sara smiled, shaking hands with the both of them. She left in the same carriage as John.

Alexstrasza looked back at Laszlo once John and Sara left. “A big day, indeed.” She repeated in a whisper.

“Would you like anything to eat, Miss Novali?” Laszlo asked with a gentle smile. He could tell Alexstrasza needed to gain some energy back.

She nodded, returning the smile back at Laszlo. “I would love that, Doctor.”

[sun-death]

To speak accurately about the task of translating, I wouldlike to mention, following Antoine Berman in The Test of the Foreign, the desire to translate. This desire goes beyond constraint and usefulness. There is certainly a constraint: if we want to trade, to travel, to negotiate, indeed to spy we definitely have to have messengers who speak the language of others. As for usefulness, it is patently obvious. If we want to save ourselves the bother of learning foreign languages, we will be very pleased to come across translations. After all, this is how we have had access to the tragic writers, to Plato, to Shakespeare, Cervantes, Petrarch and Dante, Goethe and Schiller, Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky. Constraint, usefulness, so be it! But more tenacious, more profound, more hidden than that there is: the desire to translate. It is this desire that has driven the German thinkers since Goethe, the great classicist, and von Humboldt, whom I have already mentioned, through the Romantics, Novalis, the Schlegel brothers, Schleiermacher (the translator of Plato, we must not forget that), even Hölderlin, the tragic translator of Sophocles, and finally Walter Benjamin, Hölderlin’s heir. And at the stern of this fine crew, Luther, the translator of the Bible – Luther and his will to  ‘germanize’ the Bible, held captive by St Jerome’s Latin.

Paul Ricoeur, On Translation