the songs you've sung on a braver day

Salutations, comrades.

This is the blog of a mobile fungus colony.

Expect for there to be a focus upon the culture, arts and history of the 20th century.

demons:

Nathu Singh, a Sikh member of the 60th Indian Field Ambulance Unit, serving in Korea

demons:

Nathu Singh, a Sikh member of the 60th Indian Field Ambulance Unit, serving in Korea

(Source: iwm.org.uk)

spookythor:

1/100 Favourite Films → The History Boys (2006)

'Was Poland taken by surprise?'

'To some extent… But they knew something was up.'

(via fuckyeahthehistoryboys)

Anonymous said: Why did you reblog a photo of a Luftwaffe soldier?

Why shouldn’t I, Anon? 

demons:

An Australian sentry on duty near Fleurbaix/June 1916

demons:

An Australian sentry on duty near Fleurbaix/June 1916

(Source: iwm.org.uk, via yeezymandias)

sovietpostcards:

Yuri Ovchinnikov - Soviet Figure Skater (1969) (via etsy)

sovietpostcards:

Yuri Ovchinnikov - Soviet Figure Skater (1969) (via etsy)

When you are 13 years old,
the heat will be turned up too high
and the stars will not be in your favor.
You will hide behind a bookcase
with your family and everything left behind.
You will pour an ocean into a diary.
When they find you, you will be nothing
but a spark above a burning bush,
still, tell them
Despite everything, I really believe people are good at heart.

When you are 14,
a voice will call you to greatness.
When the doubters call you crazy, do not listen.
They don’t know the sound
of their own God’s whisper. Use your armor,
use your sword, use your two good hands.
Do not let their doubting
drown out the sound of your own heartbeat.
You are the Maid of Untamed Patriotism.
Born to lead armies into victory and unite a nation
like a broken heart.

When you are 15, you will be punished
for learning too proudly. A man
will climb onto your school bus and insist
your sisters name you enemy.
When you do not hide,
he will point his gun at your temple
and fire three times. Three years later,
in an ocean of words, with no apologies,
you will stand before the leaders of the world
and tell them your country is burning.

When you are 16 years old,
you will invent science fiction.
The story of a man named Frankenstein
and his creation. Soon after you will learn
that little girls with big ideas are more terrifying
than monsters, but don’t worry.
You will be remembered long after
they have put down their torches.

When you are 17 years old,
you will strike out Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig
one right after the other.
Men will be afraid of the lightening
in your fingertips. A few days later
you will be fired from the major leagues
because “Girls are too delicate to play baseball”

You will turn 18 with a baby on your back
leading Lewis and Clark
across North America.

You will turn 18 
and become queen of the Nile.

You will turn 18 
and bring justice to journalism.

You are now 18, standing on the precipice,
trembling before your own greatness.

This is your call to leap.

There will always being those
who say you are too young and delicate
to make anything happen for yourself.
They don’t see the part of you that smolders.
Don’t let their doubting drown out the sound
of your own heartbeat.

You are the first drop of a hurricane.
Your bravery builds beyond you. You are needed
by all the little girls still living in secret,
writing oceans made of monsters and
throwing like lightening.

You don’t need to grow up to find greatness.
You are stronger than the world has ever believed you to be.
The world laid out before you to set on fire.
All you have to do
is burn.

5centsapound:

Gao  Rongguo: Twins

A veteran of two primary and at least five secondary schools, Gao had trouble adapting to these endless changes; but a lasting memory of those years is that of three pairs of identical twins among his schoolmates, and the intriguing disparity between the life paths of two twins: one brother studied at university, the other went no further than junior high school. Does being born identical mean similar lives? In his search for an answer, Gao came upon the Greek philosopher Carneades (c. (–219, -128 BCE), noted, among other things, for challenging the notion of the horoscope: “Those born under the same sign need not have the same destiny; and those who experience the same events are not necessarily born at the same time.” Taking this astrological paradox as his starting point, Gao set to work on his Twins series, visiting a total of 511 villages in search of his former friends and other twins. He ultimately opted for photographing 23 perfectly identical pairs, all of them aged over 50. 

Presenting his portraits face to face, he obtains a fascinating mirror effect: ‘These twins have the same facial features and come from the same family, but they haven’t lived the same life. Each is the mirror of the other. And through the other, one comes to a better understanding of oneself”.

(via fuckyeahchinesefashion)

fuckyeahchristmaspizza:

Tell someone you love them today, because life is short. But shout it at them in German, because life is also terrifying and confusing.

ICH LIEBE DICH

(Source: spintheblackcircle, via uwillrememberme4centuries)

vi-ve:

Yma Sumac, a descendant of Atahualpa, the last Incan emperor, 1950s

vi-ve:

Yma Sumac, a descendant of Atahualpa, the last Incan emperor, 1950s

(via lord-kitschener)

jasta11:

A young boy saluting in his own miniature copy of a British army uniform.

jasta11:

A young boy saluting in his own miniature copy of a British army uniform.

(via asyayay)

northmagneticpole:

Autoportret z żoną, maj 1954-Andrzej Wróblewski

(Source: andrzejwroblewski.pl, via schwarmerei)

newyorker:

Nessie weighs in on Scottish independence, in today’s daily cartoon.

newyorker:

Nessie weighs in on Scottish independence, in today’s daily cartoon.

(Source: newyorker.com)

An Arundel Tomb

Side by side, their faces blurred 
The earl and countess lie in stone,   
Their proper habits vaguely shown   
As jointed armour, stiffened pleat,   
And that faint hint of the absurd—   
The little dogs under their feet.
Such plainness of the pre-baroque
Hardly involves the eye, until
It meets his left-hand gauntlet, still   
Clasped empty in the other; and   
One sees, with a sharp tender shock,   
His hand withdrawn, holding her hand.
They would not think to lie so long.   
Such faithfulness in effigy
Was just a detail friends would see:
A sculptor’s sweet commissioned grace   
Thrown off in helping to prolong   
The Latin names around the base.
They would not guess how early in
Their supine stationary voyage
The air would change to soundless damage,   
Turn the old tenantry away;
How soon succeeding eyes begin
To look, not read. Rigidly they
Persisted, linked, through lengths and breadths   
Of time. Snow fell, undated. Light
Each summer thronged the glass. A bright   
Litter of birdcalls strewed the same
Bone-riddled ground. And up the paths   
The endless altered people came,
Washing at their identity.   
Now, helpless in the hollow of   
An unarmorial age, a trough
Of smoke in slow suspended skeins 
Above their scrap of history,   
Only an attitude remains:
Time has transfigured them into   
Untruth. The stone fidelity
They hardly meant has come to be   
Their final blazon, and to prove   
Our almost-instinct almost true:   
What will survive of us is love.
-Phillip Larkin
historicaltimes:

Young boy tries to trade his fathers Iron Cross for cigarettes.Berlin Germany 1945

historicaltimes:

Young boy tries to trade his fathers Iron Cross for cigarettes.Berlin Germany 1945

(via nightsinthemontecarlo)