Category: General

  • tinierpurplefishes:

    inkgeek:

    thatlittleegyptologist:

    andailtinfanach:

    mythopoeticlicense:

    humansofcolor:

    prokopetz:

    sarahtypeswords:

    wetorturedsomefolks:

    memejacker:

    several-talking-corpses:

    memejacker:

    caligula had anime eyes

    wait romans painted their marble sculptures

    it looks like a cheap theme park ride mascot

    yep

    here’s a statue of Augustus

    and here’s a reproduction of the statue with the colors restored 

    i honestly think that what we consider the height of sculpture in all of Western civilization being essentially the leftover templates of gaudy pieces of theme park shit to be evidence of the potential merit of found art

    “I tried coloring it and then I ruined it”

    And you know what the funniest part is? The paint didn’t just wear off over time. A bunch of asshole British historians back in the Victorian era actually went around scrubbing the remaining paint off of Greek and Roman statues – often destroying the fine details of the carving in the process – because the bright colours didn’t fit the dignified image they wished to present of the the cultures they claimed to be heirs to. This process also removed visible evidence of the fact that at least some of the statues thus stripped of paint had originally depicted non-white individuals.

    Whenever you look at a Roman statue with a bare marble face, you’re looking at the face of imperialist historical revisionism.

    (The missing noses on a lot of Egyptian statues are a similar deal. It’s not that the ancient Egyptians made statues with strangely fragile noses. Many Victorian archaeologists had a habit of chipping the noses off of the statues they brought back, then claiming that they’d found them that way – because with the noses intact, it was too obvious that the statues were meant to depict individuals of black African descent.)

    Sorry, I keep reblogging this over and over, the last comment is unbelievable. Wow.

    Yes, it is unbelievable. Literally. Because it’s not true.There will have been some  British historians who cleaned paint off, in fact there are, but they learned it from the Italians, who had been do this for years already. Since the renaissance, in fact.

    And the noses are a whole other matter, without even getting into the ancient Egypt race debate. Noses in particular are one of the most fragile parts of any statues, so they are the most likely to be damaged through normal wear and tear. You also don’t see many ancient statues with their penises, but for some reason you never see the photos of that damage in textbooks. Many others are also missing fingers, toes, ears, arms and accoutrements such as spears, tools, books and so on.

    Some of these statues are thousands of years old (over 5,000 years, for some of the oldest Egyptian ones), and have been outside in the desert and harsh environmental conditions for most of that time, and exposed to the violence that goes with changing cultures and religions. Extremities weather off, and paint based on natural materials fade and flake away under the sun, wind and sand.

    The Ancient Egyptians themselves knocked off the noses of statues, since they believed that the souls of the dead could inhabit statues and see what was going on in the world. They also believed that breath was quite literally life, so the easiest way to prevent a soul from entering a statue was to stop the breath from entering. Through the nose

    There have also been thousands of years of cultural/religious changes in that time, including nearly two thousand years of Christian and Islamic fundamentalism, neither of which are well known for treating ‘pagan’ art with respect

    This still happens, btw. Check out what IS did to Palmyra earlier this year. In fact IS has destroyed more ancient history and archaeology in the last year or two than just about anyone in history, including most of the sites at Palmyra, Dura Europos, Ninevah, Nimrud and Hatra.

    @thatlittleegyptologist how accurate is that last comment about Egyptians knocking the noses off statues?

    They did indeed! Basically, the Ancient Egyptians believed that the Ka was contained within the statue and the Ba in the afterlife would fly back and forth receiving sustenance from offerings left at the Ka statue. If a part of the body was missing then the deceased suffered in the afterlife. The worst thing to do would be to remove the nose or head as that would effectively stop the Ba from breathing in the afterlife, and thus killing them again. That was the worst thing you could do to someone without desecrating their corpse. You would essentially rip their afterlife from them and cause them to no longer exist. The ultimate insult, hence why iconoclasm and damnatio memoriae were are so prevalent among those the Egyptians hated. They wished to erase them, in this life and the next.

    #HOWEVER#the british DID knock off the dicks of statues#for ‘modesty’#but they KEPT THEM#so somewhere in the british museum#is a box full of marble cocks

    (via @greencarnations)

    Also, what survived on the statues are particles from the basecoats. The highlights and fine detail laid on over those would have left no trace at all once the paint-stripping had got that far.

  • shadesofmauve:

    pyoorkate:

    shadesofmauve:

    When I was a toddler, I knew that Mommies went to work and Daddies went to school. Mom was working to help put dad through law school at the time, and as far as I knew, that was how the world was.

    When we get older, we realize that there are lots of ways for the world to be, but – realize it or not – the way we grew up is still our baseline ‘normal’ (no matter how abnormal it is). It’s natural! We compare things to the standard we know best, and sometimes have to be reminded that our standard is very far from standard.

    I think that’s why I enjoy reading random posts about how people grew up, like @pacificnorthwestdoodles wrote last night about her childhood house. It’s that reminder that they’re all very unique and my ‘normal’ is anything but.

    It kind of makes me want to do a long rambly post about apartments and houses growing up, but that has to be another day. Today is full.

    Random thoughts, spurred by this…

    One of the quirks of the way I grew up (both parents worked, my mum’s a nurse though, so was out at odd times) was that I always thought both parents cooked (in all homes). My mum cooked sometimes and my dad cooked. It wasn’t until fairly recently that my mum pointed out that yes, my dad did cook – but mostly he rewarmed stuff she’d prepared as a big meal and frozen in portions. But I still find it freaky when we go to friends’ homes for dinner and only one of them cooks. ‘cos even though he didn’t really cook as much as I think, he still used to help.

    But then my dad was not reasonably forward thinking for the time. The only household job he had any resistance to was ironing – which was mainly I think because he didn’t like it. Otherwise him and my mother tried to share household tasks fairly equally. And he was very big on getting my sister into maths and science, as was my mum who went spectacularly (and famously) off the deep end when a primary school teacher dared to tell my sister that Lego was for boys.

    And when I was running through slides with my mum, there are great photos of her at the top of a ladder with a big tin of creosote treating the timber cladding that made up the wall of our house. 

    Anyhow.

    My parents really DID both cook, though mom has always been much more adventurous about it (dad generally finds the things he likes and sticks with ‘em).

    Dad even sewed – once. Because he was a student when I was very small, he sporadically had more time than my full-time-employed mom, so it fell to him to handle my Halloween costume. I was a clown, with a ruff and a full baggy clown jumpsuit sewn out of an old brightly patterned bedsheet. But dad had never really sewn before, and he didn’t know how to work the machine, so the entire thing was done in zig-zag stitch. :P

    When I was older – 6 or 7 through about 14 – my mom chose to stay at home, so our household was more traditional, at least on the face of it. And really, my parents’ skills do break down on pretty traditional lines – but I was encouraged to play in the shop AND the kitchen, and they both made it very clear that skillz was skillz no matter the gender, and everyone should be able to cook.

    Aye, my parents skills were pretty much down traditional gender lines, but it always felt more like it was a historical and personal interest thing, rather than a gender related thing. At least to me… 

    And everyone should be able to cook. :)

  • Anonymous:

    GNU Terry Prachett

    rivendellrose:

    dduane:

    waywren:

    melaye:

    radiantsquid:

    copperbadge:

    scythfi-writer:

    mercurialmalcontent:

    motorizedduck:

    rainbowbarnacle:

    lifeblender:

    nightshaderose:

    voidbat:

    copperbadge:

    GNU Terry Pratchett

    GNU Terry Pratchett

    GNU Terry Pratchett

    GNU Terry Pratchett

    GNU Terry Pratchett 

    GNU Terry Pratchett

    GNU Terry Pratchett

    If I could just get some context, that would be great

    This link explains the concept of GNU. The idea was created Terry Pratchett, who died recently. This is our way of paying tribute. 

    GNU Terry Pratchett

    GNU Terry Pratchett

    GNU Terry Pratchett. Him diamond.

     GNU Terry Pratchett. 

    (What we need now is to get NASA or ESA to add that code to the message headers of the next space probe to go out.)

    Oh my god, that would make me so happy. 

    GNU Terry Pratchett. The world is less great without him.

    GNU Terry Pratchett.

  • dakrolak:

    Heartbreaking. 

  • only1600kids:

    “Choose”

    your own adventure

  • You know, sometimes you just need a baby cow in your day*

    * Random small fact of the day… My mum had a pet cow (just because) when she was at school. 

    Apparently it was quite a good pet.

  • litographs:

    dagny-silva:

    Nancy Drew, an attractive girl of eighteen was driving home along a country road in her new, dark-blue convertible. She had just delivered some legal papers for her father. Her father, Carson Drew, a well-known lawyer in their home town of River Heights, frequently discussed puzzling aspects of cases with his blond, blue-eyed daughter.

    –Nancy Drew #1: The Secret of the Old Clock

    These Nancy Drew gifs are great!

  • shadesofmauve:

    When I was a toddler, I knew that Mommies went to work and Daddies went to school. Mom was working to help put dad through law school at the time, and as far as I knew, that was how the world was.

    When we get older, we realize that there are lots of ways for the world to be, but – realize it or not – the way we grew up is still our baseline ‘normal’ (no matter how abnormal it is). It’s natural! We compare things to the standard we know best, and sometimes have to be reminded that our standard is very far from standard.

    I think that’s why I enjoy reading random posts about how people grew up, like @pacificnorthwestdoodles wrote last night about her childhood house. It’s that reminder that they’re all very unique and my ‘normal’ is anything but.

    It kind of makes me want to do a long rambly post about apartments and houses growing up, but that has to be another day. Today is full.

    Random thoughts, spurred by this…

    One of the quirks of the way I grew up (both parents worked, my mum’s a nurse though, so was out at odd times) was that I always thought both parents cooked (in all homes). My mum cooked sometimes and my dad cooked. It wasn’t until fairly recently that my mum pointed out that yes, my dad did cook – but mostly he rewarmed stuff she’d prepared as a big meal and frozen in portions. But I still find it freaky when we go to friends’ homes for dinner and only one of them cooks. ‘cos even though he didn’t really cook as much as I think, he still used to help.

    But then my dad was not reasonably forward thinking for the time. The only household job he had any resistance to was ironing – which was mainly I think because he didn’t like it. Otherwise him and my mother tried to share household tasks fairly equally. And he was very big on getting my sister into maths and science, as was my mum who went spectacularly (and famously) off the deep end when a primary school teacher dared to tell my sister that Lego was for boys.

    And when I was running through slides with my mum, there are great photos of her at the top of a ladder with a big tin of creosote treating the timber cladding that made up the wall of our house. 

    Anyhow.