(via loveyourchaos)

thedailywhat:

Cute Animals Being Cute of the Day: I’m in ur teapot, makin it mah temporary home.

[reddit.]

In your love, my salvation lies.

(In your love, my salvation lies.)

notthatindie:

Composite image of the sun’s corona, taken during the total solar eclipse last July.

Via Scientific American

fuckyeahvermont:

knowself:

R.I.P.

Transcript

R. D. 2
Windsor, Vt.
July 19, 1957

Dear Mr. Herbert,

I’ll try to tell you what my attitude is to the stage and screen rights of The Catcher in the Rye. I’ve sung this tune quite a few times, so if my heart doesn’t seem to be in it, try to be tolerant….Firstly, it is possible that one day the rights will be sold. Since there’s an ever-looming possibility that I won’t die rich, I toy very seriously with the idea of leaving the unsold rights to my wife and daughter as a kind of insurance policy. It pleasures me no end, though, I might quickly add, to know that I won’t have to see the results of the transaction. I keep saying this and nobody seems to agree, but The Catcher in the Rye is a very novelistic novel. There are readymade “scenes” - only a fool would deny that - but, for me, the weight of the book is in the narrator’s voice, the non-stop peculiarities of it, his personal, extremely discriminating attitude to his reader-listener, his asides about gasoline rainbows in street puddles, his philosophy or way of looking at cowhide suitcases and empty toothpaste cartons - in a word, his thoughts. He can’t legitimately be separated from his own first-person technique. True, if the separation is forcibly made, there is enough material left over for something called an Exciting (or maybe just Interesting) Evening in the Theater. But I find that idea if not odious, at least odious enough to keep me from selling the rights. There are many of his thoughts, of course, that could be labored into dialogue - or into some sort of stream-of-consciousness loud-speaker device - but labored is exactly the right word. What he thinks and does so naturally in his solitude in the novel, on the stage could at best only be pseudo-simulated, if there is such a word (and I hope not). Not to mention, God help us all, the immeasurably risky business of using actors. Have you ever seen a child actress sitting crosslegged on a bed and looking right? I’m sure not. And Holden Caulfield himself, in my undoubtedly super-biassed opinion, is essentially unactable. A Sensitive, Intelligent, Talented Young Actor in a Reversible Coat wouldn’t nearly be enough. It would take someone with X to bring it off, and no very young man even if he has X quite knows what to do with it. And, I might add, I don’t think any director can tell him.

I’ll stop there. I’m afraid I can only tell you, to end with, that I feel very firm about all this, if you haven’t already guessed.

Thank you, though, for your friendly and highly readable letter. My mail from producers has mostly been hell.

Sincerely,

(Signed, ‘J. D. Salinger’)

J. D. Salinger

(via papertissue)

Lofoten, Norway

(via fuckyeahapoloohno)

Why hello, most angelic human being ever to grace dear planet earth.

loveyourchaos:

(via anditslove)

loveyourchaos:

Einstein’s handprint

landscapelifescape:

California’s Humboldt Redwoods State Park

“Among the tallest and longest-lived trees on Earth, redwoods depend on summertime’s moisture-rich fog to replenish their water reserves. But climate change may be reducing this crucial fog cover. Though still poorly understood, climate change may be contributing to a decline in a high-pressure climatic system that usually “pinches itself” against the coast, creating fog.”

Giant Redwoods May Dry Up; Warming to Blame?