church of phocks

"What you meet in another being is the projection of your own level of evolution."

phocks@gmail.com (Joshua Byrd) — Tue, 29 May 2012 00:11:37 +1000

““What you meet in another being is the projection of your own level of evolution.””

- Ram Dass (via lucifelle)

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phocks@gmail.com (Joshua Byrd) — Tue, 29 May 2012 00:07:32 +1000

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phocks@gmail.com (Joshua Byrd) — Mon, 28 May 2012 23:59:16 +1000

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phocks@gmail.com (Joshua Byrd) — Mon, 28 May 2012 23:52:09 +1000

"Fight for the value of your person. Fight for the virtue of your pride. Fight for the essence of..."

phocks@gmail.com (Joshua Byrd) — Mon, 28 May 2012 22:37:03 +1000

““Fight for the value of your person. Fight for the virtue of your pride. Fight for the essence of that which is man: for his sovereign rational mind. Fight with the radiant certainty and the absolute rectitude of knowing that yours is the Morality of Life and that yours is the battle for any achievement, any value, any grandeur, any goodness, any joy that has ever existed on this earth.””

- Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged

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phocks@gmail.com (Joshua Byrd) — Mon, 28 May 2012 22:36:57 +1000

runicbasso: possiblymaybe-probablynothing: pomnompled: makkon:...

phocks@gmail.com (Joshua Byrd) — Mon, 28 May 2012 22:08:33 +1000

runicbasso:

possiblymaybe-probablynothing:

pomnompled:

makkon:

lavenderharmony:

rainbowdash-likesgirls:

missrebellious:

alwaysblind:

metalturtle:

kcjo:

Aerogel, also know as frozen smoke, is the world’s lowest density solid, clocking in at 96% air. If you hold a small piece in your hand, it’s practically impossible to either see or feel, but if you poke it, it’s like styrofoam. It supports up to 4,000 times its own weight and can withstand a direct blast from two pounds of dynamite. It’s also the best insulator in existence.

Chemistry at its finest

can i eat that

Why don’t we use this for everything?!?

This shit is about the coolest thing ever.

It’s such a great insulator that a thin layer of it will protect anything from the heat of a bunsen burner.

Even though it’s incredibly light and has an extremely low density, its lattice-like molecular structure makes it able to hold objects much greater in mass.

What if you got loads of it, and made a bed, you could pretend you were a pegasus

Possibly one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen.

Again, because science boner.

As much as I complain about Chem, it really is one of the coolest classes I’ve taken.

SCIENCE BONER

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phocks@gmail.com (Joshua Byrd) — Mon, 28 May 2012 21:29:00 +1000

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phocks@gmail.com (Joshua Byrd) — Mon, 28 May 2012 21:07:07 +1000

"What is a poet? An unhappy man who hides deep anguish in his heart, but whose lips are so formed..."

phocks@gmail.com (Joshua Byrd) — Mon, 28 May 2012 20:54:49 +1000

“What is a poet? An unhappy man who hides deep anguish in his heart, but whose lips are so formed that when the sigh and cry pass through them, it sounds like lovely music…. And people flock around the poet and say: ‘Sing again soon’ - that is, ‘May new sufferings torment your soul but your lips be fashioned as before, for the cry would only frighten us, but the music, that is blissful.”

- Søren Kierkegaard, Either - Or (via cite-belle)

I understood at last how my love could release us all from the...

phocks@gmail.com (Joshua Byrd) — Mon, 28 May 2012 20:35:49 +1000

I understood at last how my love could release us all from the powers of darkness. Our love is stronger than death.

“The Birth of Black Widow”

phocks@gmail.com (Joshua Byrd) — Mon, 28 May 2012 20:24:00 +1000

“The Birth of Black Widow”

hollyhocksandtulips: Gloria Walker, 1956 I just want someone I...

phocks@gmail.com (Joshua Byrd) — Mon, 28 May 2012 13:02:05 +1000

hollyhocksandtulips:

Gloria Walker, 1956

I just want someone I can play chess with. Is that too much to ask?

"Things are sweeter when they’re lost. I know—because once I wanted something and got it. It was the..."

phocks@gmail.com (Joshua Byrd) — Mon, 28 May 2012 12:38:41 +1000

“Things are sweeter when they’re lost. I know—because once I wanted something and got it. It was the only thing I ever wanted badly…And when I got it it turned to dust in my hands.”

- F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Beautiful and Damned

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phocks@gmail.com (Joshua Byrd) — Mon, 28 May 2012 12:35:21 +1000

Maybe..

phocks@gmail.com (Joshua Byrd) — Mon, 28 May 2012 12:27:28 +1000

Maybe..

Mad Men, 1x13: The Wheel Don Draper: Nostalgia - it’s...

phocks@gmail.com (Joshua Byrd) — Sun, 27 May 2012 18:05:02 +1000

Mad Men, 1x13: The Wheel

Don Draper: Nostalgia - it’s delicate, but potent. Teddy told me that in Greek, “nostalgia” literally means “the pain from an old wound.” It’s a twinge in your heart far more powerful than memory alone. This device isn’t a spaceship, it’s a time machine. It goes backwards, and forwards… it takes us to a place where we ache to go again. It’s not called the wheel, it’s called the carousel. It let’s us travel the way a child travels - around and around, and back home again, to a place where we know are loved.

"Is it that by its indefiniteness it shadows forth the heartless voids and immensities of the..."

phocks@gmail.com (Joshua Byrd) — Sun, 27 May 2012 16:32:00 +1000

“Is it that by its indefiniteness it shadows forth the heartless voids and immensities of the universe, and thus stabs us from behind with the thought of annihilation, when beholding the white depths of the milky way? Or is it, that as in essence whiteness is not so much a color as the visible absence of color; and at the same time the concrete of all colors; is it for these reasons that there is such a dumb blankness, full of meaning, in a wide landscape of snows- a colorless, all-color of atheism from which we shrink? And when we consider that other theory of the natural philosophers, that all other earthly hues — every stately or lovely emblazoning — the sweet tinges of sunset skies and woods; yea, and the gilded velvets of butterflies, and the butterfly cheeks of young girls; all these are but subtile deceits, not actually inherent in substances, but only laid on from without; so that all deified Nature absolutely paints like the harlot, whose allurements cover nothing but the charnel-house within; and when we proceed further, and consider that the mystical cosmetic which produces every one of her hues, the great principle of light, for ever remains white or colorless in itself, and if operating without medium upon matter, would touch all objects, even tulips and roses, with its own blank tinge — pondering all this, the palsied universe lies before us a leper; and like wilful travellers in Lapland, who refuse to wear colored and coloring glasses upon their eyes, so the wretched infidel gazes himself blind at the monumental white shroud that wraps all the prospect around him. And of all these things the Albino whale was the symbol. Wonder ye then at the fiery hunt?”

- Herman Melville, Moby-Dick

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phocks@gmail.com (Joshua Byrd) — Sun, 27 May 2012 15:52:10 +1000

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phocks@gmail.com (Joshua Byrd) — Sun, 27 May 2012 15:46:41 +1000