check ignition and may God's love be with you

haley

anthrophile

i really like binary stars and flowers

shinyshoeshaveyouseenmymoves:

faustinerobert:

Tumblr, you’re gonna enjoy this. Hurray for the Riff Raff's Alynda Lee Segarra ( Puerto Rican heritaged, Bronx raised, New Orleans educated) is not only a magnificent musician but more importantly a class human. 'The Body Electric' is her answer to classic murder ballads like Johnny Cash’s Delia’s Gone.

"I just thought maybe it was time a woman sings a song about murder ballads since it’s so often women that are killed in murder ballads." (x)

"This one goes out to all the ladies out there who are tired of feeling afraid." (x)

“I also feel like, first and foremost, I have this feminist lense that I see the world in. And I feel like folk music is so great because it’s a conversation throughout the generations. So I thought it was fairly important for someone like myself to add my voice into these old songs. And also just give these characters a voice, give Delia a voice. And just give these women characters their humanity back." (x)

(Hurray for the Riff Raff also self-identify as a queer band if you need any more encouragement to get on itunes already and support them).

This sounds awesome, but I would also like to present a a couple of ladies who sang ‘these old songs’ but aren’t known for it like Johnny Cash is:

Anne Briggs - left home as a teenager in the 1950s to tour the folk clubs of Britain (allegedly cycled from Nottingham to Edinburgh). Often sang without accompaniment, can be credited with bringing the bouzouki to British and Irish folk music. See Polly Vaughan, where a guy out hunting accidentally kills his sweetheart because he thinks she was a swan (just go with it, ok) but her ghost turns up at his trial to save him from death - or just go for Sovay, in which a woman dresses as a highwayman to test her lover’s truthfulness.

Frankie Armstrong - way powerful singing voice, you can hear her anger on behalf of the women she sings about in every note. See The Old Man from Over the Sea, who our protagonist does not want to marry, understandably enough. Also The Maid on the Shore (you might know Stan Rogers’ version), in which a crew of leery sailors try to have off with a woman they see on the shore, only for her to sing them to sleep and steal all their stuff.

Eliza Carthy - you need to see this woman dance around the stage in her fabulous corset whilst killing it on the fiddle - and her mother Norma Waterson, and Norma’s late sister Lal. Eliza does a cracking song called Blow the Winds in which a shepherd hoping to have his way with a girl he sees out bathing gets duped by her, and Eliza and Norma recorded an album together called Gift which is glorious.

And then you’ve got Peggy SeegerSandy Denny, Linda Thompson, Shirley Collins, June Tabor and Jacqui McShee, amongst others, but I am well aware this is a very white list right here, I just wanted to let people know about these ladies who kept old songs alive during the twentieth century who really don’t get the appreciation they deserve. This is without even getting on to people like Anais Mitchell and Bella Hardy who are also keeping this stuff alive right now.

Folk music can be some powerful shit and I am all for hearing ladies reclaim the gross rapey murderous content of some of these songs.

Anonymous said:
five ways to fall in love with a city

notbecauseofvictories:

Chicago: A Love Letter In Five Parts

preface. the junk stood up into skyscrapers and asked:
Who am I? Am I a city?

1. Chicago grows up out of land flat as an act of God; it looms, gleaming up out of the rusting teeth of Gary’s steel mills, split level suburbs that give way to cornfields. An accident of hubris and will, crouching upon many waters.

2. In the summer, the city smells of skin and sweat and metal, stultifying  heat where the wind can’t reach. The winter is bitter cold, the metal under your tongue. The sky is all other times, grey.

3. Prior to 1900, the fetid, polluted Chicago River flowed out into Lake Michigan, which supplied Chicago’s drinking water. Rather than stop dumping their waste into the river, the city chose to reverse the river entirely through a system of locks, and send their sewage across the Illinois floodplain to Saint Louis.

When Saint Louis threatened to take out an injunction on the project, the Sanitary District of Chicago did not stop work—but ordered the new canal lock be opened the day before the injunction went into effect.

This is the most Chicago story you will hear, except perhaps for how during Prohibition, Al Capone ran a speakeasy at the top of 35 East Wacker. It was one of the mayor’s favorite retreats.

Chicago has always taken a certain pride in being crooked (coarse and strong and cunning)

interlude. The metaphors for Chicago are all unlovely—broken noses and heavy-shouldered laughter, cagework smiles and coalsmoke hair. In metaphor, Chicago is skin-stitched scars and wicked, shifting, junkheap given name. Iron born of fire and hands to the making.

4. Chicago is divided by rivers and then again by less visible battle lines—class and culture and color, scored deeply into its streets and the shifting geography of its neighborhoods. Chicago loves its own crooked, daring myth, but even a city feels shame.

5. There is a stillness you can find only in the heart of the loop at ten-thirty at night, when the passersby lower their voices as though suddenly stepping into a cathedral. The only sound is a dim humming of streetlamp daylight and the quiet whisk of taxis, occasional strains of saxophone drifting up from an underground El station.

The city is not sleeping, so much as you have caught it between heartbeats.

coda.
Come clean with me, come clean or dirty,

I am stone and steel of your sleeping numbers;
I remember all you forget.
I will die as many times
as you make me over again.

(the windy city, sandburg)

sandradieckmann:

Magus the wizard cat will also be available as a limited edition Giclee’ print and launched on the same date as Marvel! details on previous post ▼▼▼

#art  

lizzymercierdescloux1979:

things girls do that I love:

  • offer their friends sips of their coffee drinks without being asked
  • scratch each others back
  • say things like “smell this lotion I bought this weekend”
  • compliment each other’s eyebrows 
  • that thing when they agree with you and their eyes get really wide and they nod their head solemnly 
  • throw out each others gum wrappers or chip bags when they get up 

screwtheatlantic:

We try to watch films together, and it starts off well, but somehow we always end up out of sync. 

dream-insilk:

foreheadxkisses:

Body comparisons. 

this makes me feel alive

dustlandrpg:

w e l c o m e   t o   n o w h e r e ,  u s a ;

"Comely was the town by the curving river, this dry and dusty Mecca of dreams, this stretch of American heartland sweltering in the heat of another endless summer. In this Texas town, the old were rooted and the young were restless; the air always smelled of crude oil and midsummer barbecues; the lives of the people you loved were tangled like fishing line and you had a few hooks sunk into your heart too. Nothing uproots itself gently. That black highway ribbon could only take you in two directions, homeward and onward, and you always dreamed of the latter. But a town like this stays in your blood long after you’re gone. You’ll always be glancing in the rearview mirror for one last glimpse of a white church spire. Your eye will always catch on that lopsided highway sign, waiting by the side of the road to lead you home."

             [listen]       [download]       [visit carthage]
Roses are red / Gender is performative / Mass-market romance / Is heteronormative

Twitter / sfgnyc: Roses are red / Gender is … (via realhousewives)

OH MY GOSH THEY RHYMED SOMETHING WITH HETERONORMATIVE!!!

(via ajax-daughter-of-telamon)

ulibugs:

[emotional about whales]

#alwa y s   #whales  
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