pizzo: the Trump Crime Syndicate is expecting host nation partners to pay a big premium for US troops stationed there—via Miss Cellania’s Links
big and heavy: industrial pamphlets, 1932-1941
reef of silence: an underwater necropolis is proposed as a funerary venue that will rehabilitate coral habitats
chichรฉn itzรก: researchers uncover a trove of ancient Mayan artefacts in the Cave of the Jaguar God
shลซnyatฤ: a few moments of guided meditation from Alan Watts
do you know the way to san jose: Silicon Valley plans a monument to Silicon Valley—via Digg
tit-for-tat: though short of needing special entry- and tourist-visas US travellers to Europe will need to pre-register, like with the American ESTA programme
Monday, 11 March 2019
7x7
standard bearer
Sunday, 10 March 2019
firestarter
News of singer and vocalist of The Prodigy Keith Flint’s suicide (RIP, *1969 – †2019) earlier in the week was a sad shock for both H and me and enjoyed reading about the outpouring of memories and testimonials in the former Soviet satellite states whose music and engagement came just at the crux of societal upheaval and finding new footing. I had not realised what sort of ambassadors the band were, playing in Belgrade scant days before the Bosnian War came to an end. Read more tributes at the link up top.
Saturday, 9 March 2019
debutante
kenyรฉr varรกzslat
Our thanks to always bewitching Art of Darkness for revealing to us a common trope through Hungarian folklore in the apotropaic magic of bread. To ward off impending evil, tradition dictates that one simply place a loaf of bread in a windowsill and allow the bread to speak for itself:
First they buried me under the ground, and I survived. When I sprouted and thrived they cruelly cut me down with by sickle, yet I survived. They threshed me with the flails and I survived. They ground me to flower with their millstone yet I survived. They kneaded me in a bowl, and then they put me in a hot over to bake me and I have survived. Have you done all these things? Until you live through all these things, you have no power here.
Though this stems from the same superstitions that cause one to fret over vampire pumpkins (which would seem to kind of cancel things out), I do like imagining some twee croissant standing up to maleficent forces demanding admission into one’s house and being roundly rebuffed.
catagories: ๐, ๐, ๐ง♂️, myth and monsters