I feel like a waste of space. Useless. Forgotten. Ugly.
In late December of 2003, security cameras at Hampton Court Palace, a huge tudor castle near London, captured a startling image. Security guards were unsettled to repeatedly find a fire door open when no one was apparently around. Upon checking the security tape, they were shocked by a ghostly figure, closely resembling King Henry VIII (who died in the 1500s).
Vikki Wood, a spokesperson for the Palace, said “We’re baffled too—it’s not a joke, we haven’t manufactured it. We genuinely do not know who it is or what it is.” They aren’t a ppc company, or even a company looking to gain from this oddity; they are just as baffled like most people who look at this footage.
A security officer, James Faukes, called the incident “unnerving,” and said they’d ruled out their costumed guides. “In fact, they don’t even own a costume like the one worn by the figure on the video. It was incredibly spooky because the face just didn t look human,” Faukes said.
I googled and yep this is legit: BBC article CNN article
Southern literature scholar Michael Bibler interviews James Franco about his new adaptation of William Faulkner’s As I Lay Dying:
Filmed on location in Faulkner’s northern Mississippi, the film follows the epic journey of the Bundren family as they battle flood, fire, injury, and insanity to bury the mother, Addie, in her hometown of Jefferson. The novel is told in a series of 59 monologues spoken by 19 characters, giving it the feel of both a fragmentary dramatic script and a series of internal meditations, making it exceedingly difficult to translate to other media. As Mr. Franco explains below, bringing the novel to film poses interesting opportunities and challenges for anyone trying to capture and reimagine both the peasant realism and the modernist surrealism of Faulkner’s self-proclaimed tour-de-force. The film has already generated a great deal of buzz and will no doubt be the subject of much discussion, academic and otherwise, in the years to come.
oh
"You have my permission not to love me;
I am a cathedral of deadbolts
and I’d rather burn myself down
than change the locks."
I am a cathedral of deadbolts
and I’d rather burn myself down
than change the locks."
- Rachel McKibbens, “Letter From My Brain To My Heart” (via larmoyante)
"
Trippers and askers surround me,
People I meet, the effect upon me of my early life or the ward and city I live in, or the nation,
The latest dates, discoveries, inventions, societies, authors old and new,
My dinner, dress, associates, looks, compliments, dues,
The real or fancied indifference of some man or woman I love,
The sickness of one of my folks or of myself, or ill-doing or loss or lack of money, or depressions or exaltations,
Battles, the horrors of fratricidal war, the fever of doubtful news, the fitful events;
These come to me days and nights and go from me again,
But they are not the Me myself.
Apart from the pulling and hauling stands what I am,
Stands amused, complacent, compassionating, idle, unitary,
Looks down, is erect, or bends an arm on an impalpable certain rest,
Looking with side-curved head curious what will come next,
Both in and out of the game and watching and wondering at it.
Backward I see in my own days where I sweated through fog with linguists and contenders,
I have no mockings or arguments, I witness and wait.
- Section 4 of “Song of Myself” by Walt Whitman
You will become the Roman architecture you love much: in a state of delapidation.
My favorite fusions.
