The 6th Examined Life (1989)
Ross Bleckner
Les deux têtes (1898) - Auguste Leroux for Victor Hugo’s “La confiance du marquis Fabrice”
The first [misconception] is that philosophy itself will make you shrewd and dangerous, whereas, in fact, it will teach you to be a fatuous imbecile, but to feel satisfied with your own fatuousness (and, thus, departments of philosophy have neither been the laboratories of revolution, nor even the dodgeball tournaments of revolution).
Frida Kahlo, Pitahayas (Dragon Fruit), 1938, oil on metal Madison Museum of Contemporary Art
Lucien Lévy-Dhurmer (France 1865-1953) La bourrasque (1897) pastel on paper 38 x 44 cm
This Hubble image captures a portion of a dark nebula in the constellation Cepheus. Dark nebulae ― also called absorption nebulae ― are clouds of gas and dust that neither emit nor reflect light, instead blocking light coming from behind them. These nebulae tend to contain large amounts of dust, which allows them to absorb visible light from stars or nebulae beyond them.
Credit: NASA, ESA, T. Megeath (University of Toledo), and K. Stapelfeldt (Jet Propulsion Laboratory); Processing: Gladys Kober (NASA/Catholic University of America)
Everytime I talk about the the unfair amount of domestic labor that’s placed on women, men usually laugh and say, “Well my wife is the boss! She’s the one calling the shots, we all follow her orders 😅”
Yes you all follow her orders, but the mother is not getting the compensation like a ceo does… she is the overworked store manager first to arrive, last to leave, all responsibility and anything that goes wrong is on her shoulders, everything is planned by her, all events, maintenance, cleaning, children’s school functions, medical records…
You don’t give orders, Sir, because you are the uninvested worker that clocks in and clocks out and doesn’t really give a shit if the building burns down in the meantime, because you know she’ll always be there to pick up everyone’s slack, since the mother is the one that is always blamed for a failing family dynamic
Tout reposait dans Ur et dans Jérimadeth ;
Les astres émaillaient le ciel profond et sombre ;
Le croissant fin et clair parmi ces fleurs de l'ombre
Brillait à l'occident, et Ruth se demandait,
Immobile, ouvrant l'oeil à moitié sous ses voiles,
Quel dieu, quel moissonneur de l'éternel été,
Avait, en s'en allant, négligemment jeté
Cette faucille d'or dans le champ des étoiles.
Booz endormi, Victor Hugo