“Posca was a drink popular in ancient Rome and Greece, made by mixing sour wine or vinegar with water and flavouring herbs. It originated in Greece as a medicinal mixture but became an everyday drink for the Roman army and the lower classes from around the 2nd century BC, continuing to be used throughout Roman history and into the Byzantine period. It was made by reusing wine spoiled by faulty storage and had important dietary advantages. As well as being a source of liquid, it provided calories and was an antiscorbutic, helping to prevent scurvy by providing vitamin C. Its acidity killed harmful bacteria and the flavouring helped to overcome the bad taste of local water supplies.“
There is something vigorous and true about drinking vinegar water on a cold morning’s march.
All the signs that a cat once lived here: little black bowls with a fishbone, a handkerchief turned into a cat-sized scarf, fur everywhere–are now turned into signs of death. The hair lingering, the last of her, until it gets vacuumed up.
The absence of me having to watch my step so I don’t step on her, the absence of me having to close the bathroom door so she doesn’t shit in the bathtub, the absence of her bowling everything on my desk over in her mad rush for warmth, the absence of her sitting on my chest and crushing the air out when I’m helplessly groggy.
Description: A haunting delve into the nature of sorrow and loss in post-war Europe. Has been hailed as a “sweeping, elegiac piece told tautly by turns, tenderly by others” and “a rare glimpse, a symphonic vignette that perfectly encapsulates the austere heartbreak of the turn of the century“.
Interactive fiction, plays in Gargoyle. Turn sound up, the game relies on audio cues.
“Vishpala (viśpálā) is a woman (alternatively, a horse) mentioned in the Rigveda…As she lost her leg “in the time of night, in Khela’s battle” (alternatively, “in Khela’s race, eager for a decision”), they gave her a “leg of iron” so that she could keep running (1.116.15).
The interpretation as a female warrior in battle is due to Griffith (in keeping with Sayana), the interpretation as a horse race is due to Karl Friedrich Geldner…Nevertheless, the allusion qualifies as the earliest reference to the concept of a prosthesis…”
it’s time to suppurate the chumpus from the champus
Each picture expands to 1680×1050.
I saw one of the prettiest things in Skyrim a few days ago. I wonder how many people really stopped to look at this simple rivulet down the side of a hill. Putting aside the grand vistas, the gigantic stone edifices, there are some nice handcrafted details.
The gushing cold waters of that bleak hill, trickling through dark stones, sticks with me more than nearly anything else in the game.
I have begun to venture into the far north, past Dawnstar. Along the way I saw a high fortress on an arch of rock, the place known as Solitude.
I met a friend by the freezing sea. A friend who tried to kill me.
I lead an attack with my barbarian brethren upon the fort of the evil empire! HUARRGGHHHH
A dragon soared round a high peak.
The night sky, enhanced by a mod that uses real star photography. Click to download.
Beset by vicious snow cats!
Night sky of the far north, in a place of barren bones and icy wind.
A dragon disintegrating from my fearsome strike!
What’s this? What great monument looms ahead?
the shrine of Azura
This shot is amazing. I’m the one on the rock staring up at the statue, and the figure below me is an acolyte of the shrine.
The prelude to the heroic act is a time of thanatoic contemplation
The heroic act involves a funer(e)al slab of blackest (black’st?) and/or blasted stone, the so-called Black Bier…
The heroic act involves a sweeping axe, trailing ribbons of blood like banners, a figment of martial pageantry which swiftly disappears, subsumed into the black chaos of battle.
The heroic act involves…the Hideous Fortress…no…do not look ‘pon that place…why,…’tis too late!!!! for THE EYES HAVE BESEEN THAT W
The heroic act is that which takes place in silence, expecting no reward, save for the chiseled gaze of statues…and who knows what governs their stony hearts..do they shed a tear for you…???
The heroic act involves the naked blood foe…do not approach it…yes, walk quietly…no, it has heard you a mile away, you stand no chance, it’s coming faster than hell and twice as hot, BEHOLD THE FACELESS FACE…of….!!…..??
“Quicklime was used during WWII by the Nazis as a way to kill masses of the Jewish population. Due to a shortage of bullets they sought a way to dispose of them more efficiently. They did this by coating the bottom of railway cars with quicklime and then cramming the rail car full of Jews. This was an incredibly painful process and often it took days for them to die. The Nazis also made Jews jump in pits lined with quicklime and would then spray them with water. This would react with the quicklime leaving the victims to die from the acidity.”
Nothing more nightmarish and unbearable. : (
“We are certainly anticipating tens of thousands of people protesting, aimed at significant disruption of the daily lives of people of this city,” Mr Wolfson said.
AHAHAHAHAHAHA. How can that be a single sentence. Seems like the daily lives of people in this city might be intertwined somehow with the tens of thousands of people protesting…hmm…might even be the same people…hmm…
couldn’t think of the word “period” so used “full stop” instead. synonyms are like redundancy for brain damage!
also cut your nails before you die or you’ll aid the efforts of hell itself to cross the gap between the living and the dead. i am not even joking, this is an ancient idea steeped in tradition.