Has anyone written Mad Max: Fury Road in the form of an epic poem of some kind?
… give me a few weeks
Speak, Teller, of the mad wanderer, the wastes-man, the driver, Rockatansky; Thirst-mad, solitude-mad, angry at the sky and the dust and the world mad; Humungus defeated, Thunderdome fled and burnt, Sky-Tribe flown to Sydney Savior and unsaved, alone and now hunted, fleeing toward nothing!
In the hands of Joe Immortan his madness does not free him Hung for blood and bleeding, wanderer-trophy, fury futile-fading Who is madder than the wanderer? Whose fury surpasses the madman’s? Furiosa Iron-Handed! Furiosa Woman-Thieving!
With cunning the war-rig taken with stealth the five wives stolen; Waste-crossing bravely fleeing to the wet-place nigh-forgotten; War-boys all shouting, pursuing and flaming Doof loudly playing; Blood-bag Max still hanging, car by thieves still driven chains still unbroken.
… showoff
*grumbles*
(do some more :D)
Into the storm drove Furiosa flaying sand would not deter her; A single war-boy flush with Max-blood for his master chased the bride-thief; Nux his name and short his half-life, Immortan’s glance his heart’s desire; Max-car Nux-car chased the War-Rig half-life hands could not control it.
Free’d the wanderer barely man now bound in muzzle tongue unspeaking; Found the Iron-Hand working iron saw the water in the wasteland; Gazed on Cheedo Dag and Toast then, Angharad Capable also; Stole from Wife-Thief then the War Rig did the Wanderer in his madness!
Fury and cunning both together were the marks of Furiosa; Barely stone’s-throw did he drive it; hopeless when the War-rig stopped; In her mercy brave Furiosa made a compact with the Madman; All for freedom: them, the clean girls, leave the war-boy let him die.
STUFF TO NOT EVER DO: tell a person with depression/anxiety/eating disorder that their illness makes YOU suffer never ever do this please this is the worst fucking thing you could ever tell someone who is sick
I got anon hate for this post, keep reblogging it
Jeebus who would hate on anyone for saying this? It’s goddamn true.
8/3 Today we picked the white apples. They have skins the color of old yellowed bones, and translucent flesh so that when you slice them open you can see the seeds through the flesh. Bone-and-glass apples, parchment apples, ghost apples.
They bruise easily, a purplish brown rather too similar to a bruise on human skin. If you pick one up, there’s a good chance the shapes of your fingertips will be marked on it the next day. I want to try writing words on them by pressing on them with a pencil eraser sometime.
They smell very faintly of perfume, maybe roses. They do not smell like apples. Apple maggots never infest them (probably because their growing time is too short to support the apple
maggot fly life cycle. It’ll be another month or two before the
rest of our apples are ripe).
They’re lovely. They are also disgusting. Mealy and soft, with no flavor whatsoever. They’re not sweet. They’re not even sour. It’s like a mouth full of wet cotton ball. I’m pretty sure I spit it out the first time I tried one.
I hope you all understand how weird this is: even the goats are reluctant to eat them. They’ll eat an apple or two, but then they lose interest (except in keeping the sheep from eating any, of course).
I have no idea why a previous resident planted the ghost-apple tree. If they have any flavor at all, only the restless dead can taste it.
I have to say, I’ve seen, researched, and planted a lot of apples in my time, but I have never seen anything like this.
My best guess is that your tree is a chance seedling with a genetic mutation, given that it is both leucistic/albinoid and early-ripening. I’d hazard a guess it’s also polyploid.
lazyevaluationranch: If you’re able to save some scion wood next Autumn, I’d be very interested in grafting a branch or two of this to one of my trees: not for the utility of it, so much as for the novelty and breeding possibilities.
White Transparent, Ghost or Spirit Apple, or Apples of Saint Peter. The Russian Petrovka group are all thin-skinned pale apples that ripen near the feast of Saint Peter, and are offered to Widows and orphans (first fruits) or to the graves of the recent dead of the winter, representing God’s Mercy after trial. Apple associated with Baba Yaga, and with foretelling the past or the future. This Transparent is from Coudersport, Pennsylvania, likely brought as seed with Russian immigrants.
One more assist post for today!
These searches are up for assist for the first time.
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Does anyone recognize these fics?
I don’t remember the name of the first one, but I think Phil’s codename was Kingfisher? If that helps.
“Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there,” and another one appears. And dodges the downward sweep of claws, darting to the side, bouncing off the pentagram’s barriers, and tripping over the demon’s tail. “In the Vatican!” she cries out as she moves, using the State Farm Agent summoning charm to modify the situation as she was taught, and mentally thanking her trainer for expecting her to be fast enough to do it on the first incantation.
Most State Farm agents, when they run into trouble, have to get the customer to do the jingle a second time. That guy with the buffalo was lucky.
The magic takes hold, and she materializes in the aisle of St. Peter’s Basilica, still holding the demon by the tail, in the middle of Sunday morning Mass. The music clatters unprofessionally to a halt as laypeople, deacons, priests, monks, nuns, and the Pope all turn their attention to the surprised demon whose fifth course of dinner has turned, unaccountably, into a visit to one of his least favorite places on Earth.
There is chanting in Latin, and vaguely cross-shaped gestures, and clouds of incense, and the demon vanishes in a puff of smoke, whether from the efforts of the clergy or of his own volition no one can say. The Agent doesn’t wait, fleeing towards the doors and escaping in the confusion.
She gains the exit and walks, purposefully, toward Rome proper; there, she ducks into the nearest alley. A burner cell phone comes out of one of the less-used pockets of her purse, and she dials a number from memory.
“Allstate,” says a smooth masculine voice after three rings.
“State Farm,” she answers. “I’m calling in a favor.”
“Yeah?” Interest. “What sort?”
As she talks she’s pulling out her smartphone, keying an app that was activated by the summoning, and pulling up the policyholder data that enabled the incantation to work.
“Insurance fraud,” she said, and can almost hear teeth sharpening on the other end of the line. She gives him the name, the address, the policy number. “Someone needs some mayhem.”
“That’s my name,” the man says.
She smiles. “Someone needs all the mayhem.”
He chuckles. Slow. Evil. Even with the echoes of demonic laughter ringing in her ears, she’s impressed. “Don’t worry,” he says, almost purring.
“You’re in good hands.”
OH MY FUCKING GOD I just read insurance commercial fan fiction and it was so good, bless you, I’m going to remember this day forever.
All it needs now is Erin E-surance spearheading the Strike Team …. Seriously, this was perfection.
This isn’t just tigers obviously but I think it’s amazing how even though they aren’t the same species they recognise each other as a part of the cat family and play as they would with their own kin! So cute
This is the best thing I have ever seen in my life.
I like how you can see the difference of a jaguar and an African leopard right next to each other *_*
I love how that one lion just walks right on in and flops into the pile
I just spent half an hour watching this clip …. so adorable.
My buddy read an article about octopus intelligence. It was feeding time, and the handler dumped some shrimp into an octopus’ tank. Then he went into another room and sat at his desk.
A while later, a shrimp was tossed onto his desk.
The octopus, upon finding one bad shrimp in the lot, had grabbed it, escaped its tank, crossed the hall, and threw the expired shrimp at its caretaker. Not only does this showcase their problem-solving capabilities, but also that it could have escaped at any time. It just broke out this time to chuck an off shrimp in indignation at its handler. That’s not just intelligence, that’s a human-like reaction. Kinda make you wonder exactly how smart these guys can be…
OH MY GOD
I went to the aquarium once and we had a tour and we walked past the octopus tank and it was duct taped shut so I asked why and the guy was like. “Well, we had a problem before because these fish were disappearing randomly at night and we had no idea why. Turns out the octopus had memorised the night guards rounds and would creep out of its tank, crawl across the floor to the fish tank, have a little snack and be back in its own tank with the lid shut before the guard came back.” they are super smart
I love octopuses so, so much.
@_@
I am both delighted and FUCKING TERRIFIED.
Once I went to the aquarium where they had a baby pacific red octopus in a tank. I had gone there to work on a few real life sketches, obviously I wanted to do one of an octopus. So I kinda just kneeled in front of the tank, and started sketching. The octopus didn’t mind, he sat happily. Then, 5 minutes later, he started moving to the front of the tank, where I was. This tiny octopus faces me directly and starts posing. I don’t know how other to explain it but he started curlung his tentacles in this really graceful way then wouldn’t move for a few minutes. Then again, a new pose. That tiny cute motherfucker knew I was drawing him.
