names
- eirian (welsh)
- aoife (irish legend)
- meinir (welsh)
- inge (short form of various scandinavian and german names)
- sao (greek mythology)
- zenta (german and latvian diminutive of kreszentia)
Can’t wait to have an extremely offline boyfriend who is 6’5’’ to whom I say “hey do ever think about how 100 gecs is the mindless self indulgence of gen z” and he picks me up and puts me over his shoulder and takes me to the top of a mountain
I do wholeheartedly believe Wes Anderson is a sick sick freak. I like his movies but I definitely think this guy has like a hidden room in his spacious french apartment that he slips into quietly each night and it is just filled with tiny little doll replicas of all the actors he’s ever used in any of his movies and he puppets them around and mimicks their voices and shit. and sometimes he’ll text Owen Wilson pictures of his little doll with a comb or something from an untraceable number and pair it with like “see how I take care of you Owen?” and then the following day Owen Wilson will find him at the service table and go, “Geez Wes look at this,” and Wes will pretend to be all concerned and horrified but there is this calculating almost eager look in his eyes that unsettles Owen Wilson. and the next time Wes is having a little soiree with all his actors, his beloved beloved actors, maybe Owen Wilson will accidentally get lost on his way to the beautiful bathroom and find that little room and see all those dolls and his throat will hitch with horror. And before he can call Bill Murray or Adrian Brody to look a dark silhouette will appear in the doorway and Wes looks sort of resigned when he says, “I see you finally found my secret, Owen,” and Owen Wilson will try and pretend that he’s fine with it but they both know better. and Wes will go (the look in his eyes back again) “We both know this can’t get out, right?” and he’ll grin very suddenly and Owen Wilson will laugh along very nervously and leave the room and eat some brioche and when the evening is over he will rush over to his Prius and frantically click his keys but over the cobbles on the beautiful beautiful street there is the sound of footsteps. and tears are running down Owen Wilson’s cheeks but he can’t say a word and Wes, emerging from the shadows, will gently touch him on the shoulder and say, “look, I’ll drive you to the airport, huh?” and Owen Wilson will try to refuse but they both know it’s futile. and, halfway through the drive, Wes Anderson will smile and say, “I’ll miss working with you” and then perfectly jump and roll out of the car, wiping off his corduroy pants, while Owen Wilson’s Prius swerves into a local patisserie, bursting into flames
And the weight is waiting on,
feel the world so real and strong(My Dream Girl Don't Exist)
In my dreams you're alive and you're crying
(Two-Headed Boy, Pt. Two)
Lokasenna
Translated by W. H. Auden and P. B. Taylor
Aegir, who was also known as Gymir, had prepared ale for the gods, when he received the great kettle, as was told earlier. To his party came Odin and his wift Frigg. Thor did not come, for he was in the east. Sif, Thor's wife, was there, Bragi and his wift Idun. Tyr was there; he was one-handed; Fenris-wolf had bitten off his hand while being bound. There was Njörd and his wift skach; Frey and Freya, and Odin's son Vidar. Loki was there and Frey's servants Byggvir and Beyla. There were many gods and elves. Aegir had two servers, Fimafeng and Eldir. The ale served itself There was a great peace in that place, all praised Aegir's servers highly. Loki could not bear to hear praise, so he killed Fimafeng. Then the gods shook their spears at Loki and cried out, driving him away to the woods; then they returned to their drinking. Loki turned back and met Eldir outside. Loki said to him:
Loki:
1. Stay where you are, step no further,
Eldir, till you have told me
Of what the gods, of what the elves,
Are talking over their ale.
Eldir:
2. They boast of their weapons, their boldness in arms
As they sit by the banquet-board,
But none of the gods, none of the elves
Speak of or wish you well.
Loki:
3. I shall go in to eye them feasting
In Aegir's banquet hall:
I intend to stir up strife and hate,
Mingle gall with their mead.
Eldir:
4. If you go in to eye them feasting
In Aegir's banquet hall
And sprinkle the gods with spite and malice,
They will wipe your face with your words.
Loki:
5. I tell you, Eldir, if we two should begin
To bandy bitter words,
I should be ready with apt replies
Were you to wag your tongue.
6. From a long journey has Loftus come
And thirsty is his throat:
I ask the gods to give me a cup,
A great goblet of mead
7. Why so silent and sullen, gods,
Too moody to speak with me?
Appoint me a seat, a place at the feast,
Or else bid me be off.
Bragi:
8. An appointed seat, a place at the feast,
The gods will never give you:
You are not one they wish to invite
As a friend to their pleasure feast.
Loki:
9. Remember, Odin, in the olden days
What blood-brothers we were:
You would never have dreamed of drinking ale
Unless it was brought for us both.
Odin:
10. Make room, Vidar, room for the
Wolf's Father to sit at our feast,
Lest Loki abuse us with bitter words
In Aegir's banquet hall.
Loki:
11. Hail to the gods, hail to the goddesses,
Hail to the Holy Powers,
Hail to you all, all but one,
You, Bragi, on that bench.
Bragi:
I will give you a mare, a mace also,
And, to better the bargain, a ring,
To refrain, Loki, from malicious words,
Inciting the gods against you.
Loki:
13. Neither horses nor arm-rings have you to give,
For you lack both, Bragi,
Of all who sit here, elves and gods,
The most backward in battle,
The shyest when arrows are shot.
Bragi:
14. If I were outside, not sitting at table
In Aegir's banquet hall,
My arm would have your head from your neck,
With pain repay your lies.
Loki:
15. Boldly you speak, less boldly you act,
Bragi, the bench-ornament:
If you are angry, come out and fight,
A hero should feel no fear.
Idun:
16. Think, Bragi, I beg, of our children,
Of all our kith and kin
And do not bandy abuse with Loki
In Aegir's banquet hall.
Loki:
17. Enough, Idun! I know what you are,
The most wanton of women:
Once, half-washed you wound your arms
About your brother's killer.
Idun:
18. I will not bandy abuse with Loki
In Aegir's banquet hall:
Be calm, Bragi, and keep the peace,
Nor let ale rouse you to rage.
19. Gefjun:
Why at the table should two gods
Bandy bitter words?
Loki is envious, as we all know,
And hates the Holy Powers.
Loki:
20. Enough, Gefjun! I know your secrets,
I know your seducer's name,
The white god who gave you a jewel
To lay your leg over his.
Odin:
21. You are mad, Loki,you have lost your wits,
To give offense to Gefjun:
She is wise, I think, and what is to come
Beholds as clearly as I.
Loki:
22. Enough, Odin! You have never been
A just judge of warriors:
You have often allowed, as allow you should not,
Faint-hearted fighters to win.
Odin:
23. If I have allowed, as allow I should not,
Faint-hearted fighters to win,
You lived under the earth for eight winters,
And bore babies there,
Were milked like a milch-cow
And played a woman's part.
Loki:
24. Charms on Samsey, they say you worked,
Wicked spells like a witch,
Flew about in the form of a wizard
And played a woman's part.
Frigg:
25. You are mad, Loki, to mention here,
Aloud among the living,
What befell two gods in former days,
And disdain their deeds of old.
Loki:
26. Enough, Frigg! You are Fjörgyn's daughter
And have ever played the whore:
Both Ve and Vili, Vidrir's wife,
You allowed to lie with you.
Frigg:
27. If I still had a son, sitting here,
As brave as Baldur was,
You would not escape unscathed from the hall,
Before you fought with him.
Loki:
28. If you like, Frigg, there's a lot more
I can tell you about my tricks:
For I saw to it that your son died,
That Baldur will not come back.
Freya:
29. You are mad, Loki, to mention here
Your foul and ugly arts:
Frigg knows all that is fated to be,
Though she does not say so herself.
Loki:
30. Enough, Freya! I know well
You have been as bad as the rest:
With all who sit here, elves and gods,
With each you have played the whore.
Freya:
31. False is your tongue. You will find before long
That ill comes to the evil:
The gods are enraged, the goddesses also
Unhappy will you go hence.
Loki:
32. Enough, Freya! I know you a witch
Who has done many wicked deeds:
You enticed into bed your own brother, remember,
And then, Freya, you broke-wind.
Njörd:
33. It's a small matter if a maiden chooses
To lie with a husband or lover,
But a shameful sight is a
She-god Who has given birth to babies.
Loki:
34. Beware, Njörd! I know you were sent
From the east as a hostage to gods:
For Hymir's daughters you did as a urine-trough,
They made water in your mouth.
Njörd:
35. It comforted me when I came from afar
In the east as a hostage to gods,
To beget a son who is greatly loved
And appears the prince of gods.
Loki:
36. Beware, Njörd! It is wise to be modest.
Your secret I shall not conceal:
On your own sister that son you begot.
What else would one expect?
Tyr:
37. Frey is the best of all bold riders
In the golden courts of the gods,
Never dallies with maidens, nor men's wives,
But frees all from their fetters.
Loki:
38. Enough, Tyr! You have never known how
To make peace between men:
Feeble you are since Fenris bit
Your right hand off at the wrist.
Tyr:
39. I lost a hand, but you lost a son,
The wolf brought woe to us both:
In painful fetters shall Fenris lie
Until the twilight of gods.
Loki:
40. Enough, Tyr! You know that your wife
Mothered a son by me:
Nor rag nor penny were you paid for that
In recompense, wretched one.
Frey:
41. I see a channel and a chained wolf lying
Until the twilight of gods:
Forger of lies, unless you be silent,
That fate will fall on you next.
Loki:
42. With gold you bought Gymir's daughter,
For her you sold your sword:
When Muspell's sons over Mirkwood ride,
Faint shall you feel at heart.
Byggvir:
43. Could I own to the lineage of Ingvi-Frey
And sit in so honored a seat,
I would pound you, crow, to pulp for your words
And break every one of your bones.
Loki:
44. What do I see wagging its tail
And yelping like a spoiled pup?
To Frey it must sound like slave-girls'
Jibber-jabber at the quern.
Byggvir:
45. My name is Byggvir, known, I think,
To all for my hot temper:
Happy am I that Hropt's kin
Are gathered over their ale.
Loki:
46. Enough, Byggvir! You have never learned
How to carve meat for men:
When others fought you hid yourself
Under the straw of the hall.
Heimdal:
47. Drink, Loki, has dulled your wits,
It is time to leave it alone:
When ale begins to take hold of a man,
He babbles babyish nonsense.
Loki:
48. Enough, Heimdal! I know that fate
Assigned you a servile task
With a damp bottom you are doomed to stay
Awake to guard the gods.
Skadi:
49. You are lively, Loki, but, like it or not,
You will not be loose for long:
The gods will bind you to the blade of a sword
With the guts of your ice-cold heir.
Loki:
50. If the gods bind me to the blade of a sword
With the guts of my ice-cold heir,
I was foremost at the slaughter, first to lay
Harsh hands on Thjazi.
Skadi:
51. If foremost at the slaughter, first to lay
Harsh hands on Thjazi,
Ominous words shall you hear in my temple,
Dire prophecies on my plains.
Loki:
52. Livelier your words to Laufey's son
When you bid him come to your bed:
Now is the time for telling all,
That must be told of too.
Sif:
53. Hail, Loki! Let me hand you now
A cup of cold mead:
Admit that in one among the gods
Even you can find no fault.
Loki:
54. That would be Sif, for, wary ever
And cautious, you kept to yourself,
Except that you lay with a lover once
As well as Thor, I think,
And the lucky one was Loki.
Beyla:
55. The fells tremble, the fields shake,
That must be Thor returning:
He will surely smite the shameless mocker
Of gods and the sons of gods.
Loki:
56. Enough, Beyla! You are Byggvir's wife
And mingle in much evil:
A disgrace it is that where gods sit
Such a dung-bird and coward should come.
(Thor enters.)
Thor:
57. Be silent and grovel, or my great hammer
Mjöllnir shall shut your mouth:
Your shoulder's stone I will strike from its neck,
Lifeless you shall lie.
Loki:
58. So! The Son of Earth is here at last!
Why do you rant and rage?
Less bold you will be when you battle with Fenris
And he swallows Odin whole.
Thor:
59. Be silent and grovel, or my great hammer
Mjöllnir shall shut your mouth:
Be silent or Thor will throw you to the East
Where no god shall see you again.
Loki:
60Of your eastward journey, if I were you,
I would not speak before warriors:
You cowered, Thor, in the thumb of a glove,
And forgot that you were a god.
Thor:
61. Be silent and grovel, or my great hammer
Mjöllnir shall shut your mouth:
My hand will fell you with Hrungnir's-killer,
Break every one of your bones.
Loki:
62. I reckon I shall live to a ripe old age
For all your threats with the hammer:
Skrymir's straps were strong, you found,
When you could not get to your gear
And almost died of hunger.
Thor:
63. Be silent and grovel, or my great hammer
Mjöllnir shall shut your mouth:
I will send you to hel with Urungnir's-killer,
Down to the gates of the dead.
Loki:
64. I have said to gods and the sons of gods
What my mind was amused to say:
But now I shall go, for I know your rages,
With Thor I'm afraid to fight.
65. Ale have you brewed, Aegir, but never
Will you give a feast again:
My flames play over all you possess,
Already they burn your back.
But after that Loki hid in Franang's Falls in the form of a salmon. There
the gods took him. He was bound with the bowels of his son Nan. But
his son Narfi turned into a wolf. Skadi took a poisonous snake and
hung it up over the face of Loki; the poison dropped down. Sigyn,
Loki's wife, sat there and held a bowl under the poison, and when
the bowl was full she carried it off; but, meanwhile, the poison dropped
on Loki. Then he struggled so hard that all the earth trembled. We
call that now an earthquake.
What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I'll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I've been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I'm the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You're fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that's just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little "clever" comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You're fucking dead, kiddo.
To be fair, you have to have a very high IQ to understand Rick and Morty. The humour is extremely subtle, and without a solid grasp of theoretical physics most of the jokes will go over a typical viewers head. There's also Rick's nihilistic outlook, which is deftly woven into his characterisation- his personal philosophy draws heavily from Narodnaya Volya literature, for instance. The fans understand this stuff; they have the intellectual capacity to truly appreciate the depths of these jokes, to realise that they're not just funny- they say something deep about LIFE. As a consequence people who dislike Rick & Morty truly ARE idiots- of course they wouldn't appreciate, for instance, the humour in Rick's existential catchphrase "Wubba Lubba Dub Dub," which itself is a cryptic reference to Turgenev's Russian epic Fathers and Sons. I'm smirking right now just imagining one of those addlepated simpletons scratching their heads in confusion as Dan Harmon's genius wit unfolds itself on their television screens. What fools.. how I pity them. 😂
And yes, by the way, i DO have a Rick & Morty tattoo. And no, you cannot see it. It's for the ladies' eyes only- and even then they have to demonstrate that they're within 5 IQ points of my own (preferably lower) beforehand. Nothin personnel kid 😎
I love fake people, I love games, I love drama, music means nothing to me. I’m not a chill guy and if you fuck with my friends I will help you do it. I would betray any of my loved ones at any time and I would not hesitate to hit them with a car.
Look what I found! It's a stinky dog!
Oooooooooooooooooooooooooo my smelly dog
(crawling darkly) (screaming) (twisted) (crawling darkly) (screaming) (twisting) (crawling darkly) (screaming) (crawling) (twisting) (splitting) (creeping darkly) (tumbling) (crawling violently) (twisting) (convulsing) (roaring) (creeping) (growling sinisterly) (crawling) (splitting) (walking ashore) (twisting) (convulsing) (creeping) (walking twisted) (attack regardless of target)
Hai delle poppe giganti, intendo davvero delle imponenti tettone, un vero set di mammelone. Possiedi delle tettolone, delle imponenti mega tettolone, un gran bel paio di super mammeloseloni gigantesche extra tettone, mastodontiche iper giga super macro extra poppellone. Oh wow, quelle sono un paio di grosse super tettone da mami cioè davvero senoni da furgone del latte, macchine del latte così imponenti da causare seri problemi alla schiena. Una coppia di gargantuesche colossali titaniche mastodontiche mongolfiere sessuali. Sto parlando di bocce sì ma bocciose tettose zinne vaste titaniche astronomiche divine mostruose elefantine angurie mammarie da milkshake budinose tettose lattarie.
I think one of the reasons that I feel empty after watching a lot of TV, and one of the things that makes TV seductive, is that it gives the illusion of relationships with people. It’s a way to have people in the room talking and being entertaining, but it doesn’t require anything of me. I mean, I can see them, they can’t see me. And that they’re there for me, and I can, I can receive from the TV, I can receive entertainment and stimulation. Without having to give anything back but the most tangential kind of attention. And that is very seductive.
The problem is it’s also very empty. Because one of the differences about having a real person there is that number one, I’ve gotta do some work. Like, he pays attention to me, I gotta pay attention to him. You know: I watch him, he watches me. The stress level goes up. But there’s also, there’s something nourishing about it, because I think like as creatures, we’ve all got to figure out how to be together in the same room.
[…] And that as the Internet grows, and as our ability to be linked up, like—I mean, you and I coulda done this through e-mail, and I never woulda had to meet you, and that woulda been easier for me. Right? Like, at a certain point we’re gonna have to build up some machinery, inside our guts, to help us deal with this. Because the technology is just gonna get better and better and better and better. And it’s gonna get easier and easier, and more and more convenient, and more and more pleasurable, to be alone with images on a screen, given to us by people who do not love us but want our money. Which is all right. In low doses, right? but if that’s the basic main staple of your diet, you’re gonna die. In a meaningful way, you’re going to die.
If heaven is full of people then it will be exactly the same as Earth
ofljóst
Old Norse: of- (“too much, excessively”) + ljóss (“clear”); literally "too clear", an ironic designation.
Adjective: (of a phrase in a poem) being a kenning for something which is synonymous or homophonous with something else which is homophonous or synonymous with the intended morpheme, word or phrase
Examples: Guðrún Nordal, Tools of Literacy, page 205, quotes a relatively simple example: "[A kenning [e.g. 'forest of the head'] may designate] hár 'hair,' whose homophone Hár denotes Òðinn."
From day one I talked about getting out
But not forgetting about how my worst fears are letting out
He said why put a new address
On the same old loneliness
When breathing just passes the time
Until we all just get old and die
Now talking's just a waste of breath and living's just a waste of death
And why put a new address on the same old loneliness
And this is you and me
And me and you until we've got nothing left