Best thing I’ve ever seen on a runway
This was pretty fucking awesome, yea… :)
sweet dreams are made of these
I can die now
THAT VOGUING THOUGH.
ANTM eat your heart out.
Am i the only one who really wanted those hats and hoodies!!??!?
Three Versions of Judith Beheading Holofernes:
Valentine de Boulogne (1591-1632)
Artemisa Genitileschi (1593-1653)
One of my favorite classes I ever took was my Feminist Art History class, and we covered Artemisia Gentileschi quite a bit — specifically, her Judith Beheading paintings in contrast to other artists, especially Caravaggio. It’s a perfect example of a male perspective vs a female perspective.
While Judith in Caravaggio’s and Boulogne’s paintings are prim, clean, slender, and beautiful within the gory act they are committing (indeed, Caravaggio’s Judith seems about as uncomfortable by the act as a lady mewling over a broken nail), Artemisia has her Judith as heavy-set, with thick arms and a thick frame, and a far more forceful participator in the act.
Additionally, the handmaiden in the first two examples are both old, feeble women who are not meant to be focused on — they hang back in the darkness, waiting or fretting over Judith. On the left side is a man in the throws of dying, and on the right is a woman of elderly age, both undesirable people/outcomes. The ugliness frames and further highlights Judith’s beauty. However, in Artemisia’s rendition, the servant is not only much younger, but she’s an active accomplice in the grisly act.
Finally, Holofernes in both Caravaggio’s and Boulogne’s renditions is simply lying back and allowing his head to be cut off: his hands remain at his side, and his blood seems to avoid the ladies to the right. In Artemesia’s depiction, he’s actively defending himself, blood is spilling absolutely everywhere and on his attackers — the very ones he is trying to forcefully trying to shove the female aggressors away, yet still being overpowered and defeated.
To put it simply, the contrast between Artemisia’s painting and the other two examples here (and the many many many other Judith renditions throughout art history) is the act of beheading Holofernes is the center focus, not Judith herself. It’s a clear example of agency, and what it means to be a subject that is passively looked on while meekly reacting to a situation vs a subject that is empowered and in full control of the act she is committing.
Here are some good ways to discipline naughty children:
- Cut off all electricity from the house for a week
- Remove the eyes from the child’s favorite doll
- Color the child’s favorite food with an inappropriate food dye, for example: pizza dyed with a bright green dye that glows in the dark
- Play Christmas carols with full volume in the middle of the night
- Have the toothfairy bring the child a pile of 19th century Polish coins, that have absolutely no value anymore
The awesome day when my magnificent toddler found my quick reference guide to cult and occult behavior
Joseph Stalin raises his head, a sly twinkle in his eye as he meets the bald man’s suggestive gaze. “Walter…” He purrs, dragging his tongue along the underside of his mustache in anticipation. “I see you’ve finally arrived.”
"Oh, Walter," The man chuckled, mustache quivering in delight. "I am the police.”
the ham is melting, the turkey is suspended in midair, the salami is hatching from its own egg. why did we even come to the salvador deli
I went to get myself a newspaper to do the crossword, and a cup of coffee and a packet of cookies. I went and sat at a table.
I want you to picture the scene. It’s very important that you get this very clear in your mind.
Here’s the table, newspaper, cup of coffee, packet of cookies. There’s a guy sitting opposite me, perfectly ordinary-looking guy wearing a business suit, carrying a briefcase.
It didn’t look like he was going to do anything weird. What he did was this: he suddenly leaned across, picked up the packet of cookies, tore it open, took one out, and ate it.
Now this, I have to say, is the sort of thing the British are very bad at dealing with. There’s nothing in our background, upbringing, or education that teaches you how to deal with someone who in broad daylight has just stolen your cookies.
You know what would happen if this had been South Central Los Angeles. There would have very quickly been gunfire, helicopters coming in, CNN, you know… But in the end, I did what any red-blooded Englishman would do: I ignored it. And I stared at the newspaper, took a sip of coffee, tried to do a clue in the newspaper, couldn’t do anything, and thought, what am I going to do?
In the end I thought, nothing for it, I’ll just have to go for it, and I tried very hard not to notice the fact that the packet was already mysteriously opened. I took out a cookie for myself. I thought, that settled him. But it hadn’t because a moment or two later he did it again. He took another cookie.
Having not mentioned it the first time, it was somehow even harder to raise the subject the second time around. “Excuse me, I couldn’t help but notice …” I mean, it doesn’t really work.
We went through the whole packet like this. When I say the whole packet, I mean there were only about eight cookies, but it felt like a lifetime. He took one, I took one, he took one, I took one. Finally, when we got to the end, he stood up and walked away.
Well, we exchanged meaningful looks, then he walked away, and I breathed a sigh of relief and sat back. A moment or two later the train was coming in, so I tossed back the rest of my coffee, stood up, picked up the newspaper, and underneath the newspaper were my cookies.
The thing I like particularly about this story is the sensation that somewhere in England there has been wandering around for the last quarter-century a perfectly ordinary guy who’s had the same exact story, only he doesn’t have the punch line.
i hate the neologism “partner” for “person i’m dating”. i have no intention of being a cowboy and nobody will ever be a cowboy to me.
speak for yourself, slim. some of us cowpoke are lookin’ for the right partner to call our own… [twangs acoustic guitar softly as i stare towards the twinkling night sky] don’t see many of them stars where you’re from, eh, city boy? nah. didn’t think so.