[SOON , A TITLE HERE ]

[mordecai]

Back on track then. Jeff Wall is going to have a piece in the upcoming show at the gallery. These are two of his more famous ones:

 

[noob in 89]

Is that a Butthead dummy?

 

[tween_spirit]



i didn't even watch the trailer after 4 seconds it seems grotesquely violent

this is cool violence/gore

[VIDEO][/VIDEO]

[VIDEO][/VIDEO]

 

[tween_spirit]



Is that a Butthead dummy?

no but this is

 

[the shah]

@mordecai see i told you you'd like this thread despite your accusations of insularity

do you use imessage on your new device ? i'm thinking i could spam serenade you there as well uhoh

* * *

Kawah Ijen by night
Photographer Olivier Grunewald has recently made several trips into the sulfur mine in the crater of the Kawah Ijen volcano in East Java, Indonesia, bringing with him equipment to capture surreal images lit by moonlight, torches, and the blue flames of burning molten sulfur. Covered last year in the Big Picture (in daylight), the miners of the 2,600 meter tall (8,660ft) Kawah Ijen volcano trek up to the crater, then down to the shore of a 200-meter-deep crater lake of sulfuric acid, where they retrieve heavy chunks of pure sulfur to carry back to a weighing station. Mr. Grunewald has been kind enough to share with us the following other-worldly photos of these men as they do their hazardous work under the light of the moon.

A sulfur miner stands inside the crater of the Kawah Ijen volcano at night, holding a torch, looking towards a flow of liquid sulfur which has caught fire and burns with an eerie blue flame. (

Olivier Grunewald)

Spoiler: (29 more photos)

Descending into the Kawah Ijen caldera, a one-kilometer-wide acidic crater lake lies in the middle. On its shore, the sulfur mining operation. (

Olivier Grunewald)

Steam and acidic gases emerge from fumaroles among yellowish chunks of sulfur and burning liquid sulfur on Kawah Ijen. (

Olivier Grunewald) #

Flaming molten sulfur flows inside the volcanic crater. Sulfur will melt at just above 100 C (212 F), but the temperatures in the crater do not get high enough for spontaneous combustion - the fires are lit by the miner's dripping torches. (

Olivier Grunewald)

A miner chips away hunks of solid sulfur to take with him back to the mine office. (

Olivier Grunewald)

A sulfur deposit clings to the edge of an old barrel now embedded in sulfur inside Kawah Ijen. (

Olivier Grunewald)

Miners labor in hellish conditions to retrieve the sulfur - Photographer Olivier Grunewald describes the smell as overwhelming, requiring a gas mask for safety, which few of the miners possess. (

Olivier Grunewald)

Miners rest near a fire, holding long crowbars they use to pry the sulfur from the crater. (

Olivier Grunewald)

A formation caused by liquid sulfur flow inside the crater of Kawah Ijen. When molten, sulfur appears nearly blood red, as it cools, it becomes more and more yellow. (

Olivier Grunewald)

Molten sulfur burns after it drips from stone and ceramic pipes that have condensed the sulfuric gases from the volcano into a liquid, depositing it to cool and harden for later retrieval. (

Olivier Grunewald)

Lit by torches, miners chop away at the solid sulfur deposits, retrieving chunks they can carry back out. (

Olivier Grunewald)

A miner works on a block of sulfur, to fit it into the baskets used to carry the mineral out of the volcano. (

Olivier Grunewald)

Working close to condensation pipes a miner gathers sulfur from Kawah Ijen, molten sulfur burning blue in the background. (

Olivier Grunewald)

Miners carry heavy blocks of sulfur, preparing for their return trip. (

Olivier Grunewald)

Molten sulfur burns atop a solid sulfur deposit. Miners will extinguish the flames before they leave to prevent any loss of sulfur. (

Olivier Grunewald)

A miner begins his return trip with his heavy load of sulfur. (

Olivier Grunewald)

A masked miner walks through a thick cloud of steam and acidic gas, carrying a torch near the blue flames of a burning liquid sulfur flow. (

Olivier Grunewald)

A miner adjusts his load - each pair of full baskets can weigh from 45 to 90kg (100 - 200 lbs). (

Olivier Grunewald)

Miners begin their journey home, clouds of steam and gas behind them lit by moonlight, torchlight, and burning liquid sulfur. (

Olivier Grunewald)

A miner's hut just inside the crater of Kawah Ijen. (

Olivier Grunewald)

A miner adjusts his load of sulfur blocks. (

Olivier Grunewald)

Miners carrying torches climb back up the wall of Kawah Ijen's crater, beginning their return trip with a 200 meter climb to the crater lip. (

Olivier Grunewald)

Looking back down on the mining operation inside the volcano, the burning sulfur, acidic lake and moonlit crater walls. (

Olivier Grunewald)

A miner weighs his load at the local mining office. Miners will make this trip two or three times a day, with typical earnings of approximately $13.00 US per day. (

Olivier Grunewald)

Inside the initial processing facility, the blocks of sulfur are broken down into much smaller bits. (

Olivier Grunewald)

The sulfur bits are then placed in large vessels above wood fires to be melted once again. (

Olivier Grunewald)

Molten sulfur is ladled from the melting pots into carrying buckets. (

Olivier Grunewald)

Some molten sulfur is channeled into other vessels. (

Olivier Grunewald)

The final step, spreading the liquid sulfur on slabs to cool into sheets, which, once hardened, will be shipped to local factories for use in vulcanizing rubber, bleaching sugar and other industrial processes. (

Olivier Grunewald)

Photographer Olivier Grunewald kneels to get a photograph on a small rock outcropping in the acid crater lake of Kawah Ijen. "The feeling is like being on another planet" he said. Grunewald lost one camera and two lenses to the harsh conditions in the crater, and when it was over, he threw all of his clothes in the garbage, as the sulfuric smell was so strong and would not wash out. (

Olivier Grunewald)

 

[sipang]



I never understood why the French made fun of Belgians so much. Then a friend related a story to me about how the Belgian ambassador came to the restaurant she waited at and left with his napkin tucked into the front of his pants.

Mmmm sounds familiar


The French are mostly jealous of the Belgian legendary sense of self-derision. What would happen is that a French would make a Belgian joke and the Belgian would laugh with him which would then make the Frenchman deeply distraught, unable to enjoy his own joke and a bit intrigued by his neighbor's reaction, half-aware that what he had just witnessed would be forever denied to him.

 

[BreezyBirch]

man, i hate running out of nooses

 

[mordecai]



Mmmm sounds familiar

The French are mostly jealous of the Belgian legendary sense of self-derision. What would happen is that a French would make a Belgian joke and the Belgian would laugh with him which would then make the Frenchman deeply distraught, unable to enjoy his own joke and a bit intrigued by his neighbor's reaction, half-aware that what he had just witnessed would be forever denied to him.

you've got a booger dude.

 

[drmmr]

Wandering

Spoiler: Warning: Spoiler!

“For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfil themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: in the rings of its years, its scars, all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow.

Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.

A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life. The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar on my bark. I was made to form and reveal the eternal in my smallest special detail.

A tree says: My strength is trust. I know nothing about my fathers, I know nothing about the thousand children that every year spring out of me. I live out the secret of my seed to the very end, and I care for nothing else. I trust that God is in me. I trust that my labor is holy. Out of this trust I live.

When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me! Life is not easy, life is not difficult. Those are childish thoughts. Let God speak within you, and your thoughts will grow silent. You are anxious because your path leads away from mother and home. But every step and every day lead you back again to the mother. Home is neither here nor there. Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.

A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning. It is not so much a matter of escaping from one’s suffering, though it may seem to be so. It is a longing for home, for a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother.

So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.”

― Hermann Hesse

 

[tween_spirit]

URBan EXploration

Release Date: 1981 Genre: Decrepit Maze Notes: n/a




Ghost Garden Man

Release Date: 1983 Genre: Horticulture/Horrorculture Notes: Criticized for innacurate representation of french style garden


Many more

 

[StanleyVanBuren]

The piece illustrates the topology of London reshaped according to the underground map.
​

http://www.looksgood.de/log/2012/02...ube-map-to-large-scale-collective-mental-map/

 

[the shah]

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/...rkey_n_1296672.html?ncid=edlinkusaolp00000003

The Vatican has allegedly issued an official request to examine a 1,500-year-old Bible that has been held in Turkey for the past 12 years, the Hurriyet Daily News reports.

The Bible reportedly contains early teachings of Jesus Christ and is written in gold lettering on animal hide in Syriac, a dialect of Aramaic, which was the native tongue of Jesus.

According to a report by National Turk, the Bible was seized from a gang of smugglers in a Mediterranean-area operation. The report states the gang was charged with smuggling antiquities, illegal excavations, and the possession of explosives.

Today's Zaman reports that the Bible is under high security and that a Turkish daily newspaper, the Star, claims the book could be a copy of the Gospel of Barnabas -- a controversial text which Muslims claim is an addition to the original gospels -- Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John -- that was suppressed.

In it, Jesus is said to have predicted the coming of the Prophet Muhammad.

Due to its value as a cultural and religious artifact, even photocopies of the pages could be worth between 3 and 4 million Turkish Lira, or about 1,703,233 U.S. dollars.

Need miran to confirm this, he was recently in the Mediterranean region

 

[tween_spirit]



http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/...rkey_n_1296672.html?ncid=edlinkusaolp00000003
Need miran to confirm this, he was recently in the Mediterranean region

 

[the shah]

that reminds me of Tito and his joke of a manifesto lol

 

[tween_spirit]

who wants to move to like slab city or something with me and built a yurt there and live in it and get a wifi hotspot and post on the internet all day and catalog old designer collections