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noovorous 12 hours
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never let anyone tell you that trawling through mediocre victorian poetry isn't worth it. we just happened upon an absolute BANGER of a worm poem. go read it or else 馃馃馃
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noovorous 9 days
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Ramblings on Beauty
Join be as I ramble about whatever it is I happen to find beautiful.
Fustanella is a white pleated skirt worn traditionally by men in Albania, Greece and other parts of the Balkans. I cannot begin to express how much I crave to wear something like that on a day to day basis. Would it be cultural appropriation? Probably... Would I look good in it? Absolutely yes! Just look at those depictions!
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The last one is a portrait of Lord Byron in Traditional Albanian Dress, which he called "the most magnificent in the world". Complimented by golden waist coat and a jacket or coat, there is just something so virile about a garment that is essentially a white dress. Not to mention simply stunning. I bet it is excellent during hot Balkan summers. To reduce men's options when it comes to covering their legs to pants and pants only was a crime against diversity of taste.
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noovorous 18 days
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the King in Yellow is a play about a masquerade
the King in Yellow is not a play
the King in Yellow is a play about a tragic romance ended in bloodshed
the King in Yellow is a play about the diplomatic missions between Ythil and Carcosa
the King in Yellow is a play about Carcosa cannibalizing Ythil
the King in Yellow is a play about a lake, a monster in the lake, and the city on the shore of the lake
the King in Yellow is a play about a reclusive God of Nothing, God of Hunger, God of Masks
the King in Yellow is a play about Hedonism
the King in Yellow is not a play
the King in Yellow is about a petty war between two squabbling city-states, old Athens and Sparta
the King in Yellow is a play about a small star cluster located in the constellation Taurus
the King in Yellow is not a play
the King in Yellow is a play about propaganda and madness seeping into a city
the King in Yellow is not a play, it is a sign
the King in Yellow is a play about the Phantom of Truth
the King in Yellow is not a play, it is a transmission vector
the King in Yellow is not a play, it is a masquerade
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noovorous 24 days
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I am so normal about 脌 rebours that I took mine to bookbinder to put it in a yellow cover... Not to brag or anything but yeah, that's true.
If there鈥檚 a book that would benefit greatly from a release in illustrated edition then that book is definitely 脌 rebours by J.K.Huysmans. With so much of its subject being visual beauty there should be illustrations of what鈥檚 discussed. Etchings of Goya and Luyken, works of Redon, paintings of Moreau, best placed just after they are done being described. XIXth century style botanical illustrations of flowers mentioned. Photographs of gems and stones from chapter devoted to them. Perhaps portraits of artists and writers mentioned throughout. Everything of course bound in a yellow cover, the yellow cover is obligatory.
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noovorous 24 days
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Now, I have never wrote anything that would count as fanfiction and I am generally disinterested in writing plot (as opposed to vague vibes, scenes and descriptions) but, BUT "The Hound" by H.P. Lovecraft scratches my brain in a weird way that makes me want to attempt something with it.
I mean, I mean:
Wearied with the commonplaces of a prosaic world, where even the joys of romance and adventure soon grow stale, St. John and I had followed enthusiastically every aesthetic and intellectual movement which promised respite from our devastating ennui. The enigmas of the Symbolists and the ecstasies of the pre-Raphaelites all were ours in their time, but each new mood was drained too soon of its diverting novelty and appeal. Only the sombre philosophy of the Decadents could hold us, and this we found potent only by increasing gradually the depth and diabolism of our penetrations. Baudelaire and Huysmans were soon exhausted of thrills, till finally there remained for us only the more direct stimuli of unnatural personal experiences and adventures
The narrator and St. John, both decadents to the core, living a secluded existance in a gothic manor, seeking new thrills through graverobbing. I know they sleep in separate rooms and are probably already tired of sexual explorations but I will not believe that they didn't explore each other in many, many ways. And even later, two companions, living their lives in devotion to the unnatural, always trying to escape their ennui, it just strikes a certain chord, doesn't it? To share your life with a friend with whom you've read Huysmans, studied Necronomicon, with whom you reenact vile rituals, with whom you create morbid art and play dreadful music, with whom you go on trips to rob old graves... that is certainly a dream.
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noovorous 24 days
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Reading The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket by Edgar Allan Poe:
1- Introduction 2- A bit claustrophobic, I suppose? 3- Well, things just got interesting 4- Now it's just sad 5- Things are getting interesting again! 6- Wow, this is a bit racist... 7- Wow, this is SUPER RACIST 8- Now things are getting so, SO much more interesting 9- NO! Master Poe, respectfully GET BACK AND WRITE!!! What do you mean it ends here? The last sentences of the actual journey and UGHH!!!
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noovorous 24 days
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beyond funny the way pyotr will nonstop drag his father about being whipped for vavara petrovna and then proceed to act the exact same way around her son
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noovorous 28 days
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What does your favourite roman emperor tell about you:
1- Elagabalus: you're into decadent literature and/or queer
2- There is no number two, I only made this about Elagabalus
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noovorous 1 month
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hi everybody please reblog this and tell me your go-to coffee order right now and if you don't like coffee feel free to include your go-to tea order instead
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noovorous 1 month
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My mind is an enigma of contradictions and hypocrisy. Two thoughts lie in it today, one is "I'm glad with being culturally catholic", the other is "I should use Church's Index Librorum Prohibitorum as a 'to read' list". These two thoughts lie next to each other without a hint of moral conflict or even a thirst for consistance. I am enjoying myself greatly.
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noovorous 1 month
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Oh, I suppose it could be worse...
Clam people of Untamed Tribes Digital Collage by Aleagio from worldbuilding project Codex Inversus
https://www.reddit.com/r/codexinversus/ https://www.reddit.com/user/aleagio/
Oh fuuuuck. Oh fuck dude. I just got bit by a fucking clam and tonight's the full moon
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noovorous 1 month
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Having recently picked up a habit of favouring my tea with orange or lemon zest and as a consequence being annoyed at how little zest there is on a single fruit I now completely understand the purpose for which Buddha's Hand was bred. This is a fruit cultivated for its zest, it is maximum zest in zest, maximalization of surface area in relation to volume, this beloved cthulhu shaped fruit.
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noovorous 1 month
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God is a rotting corpse. The explosion of complexity that we call the world is simply the sum of decomposing processes occurring as Its body swells from the buildup of gaseous metabolites. Once the corpse grows cold and dry as a bone we will call it the heat death of the universe.
God is a spider. All of creation is an elaborate net to catch souls which She feeds on.
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noovorous 1 month
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God is a bowerbird. The universe is His bower that is ever changing because He constantly redecorates it in hopes of catching the attention of His desired mate. The last 13.8 billion years were unsuccessful.
God is a spider. All of creation is an elaborate net to catch souls which She feeds on.
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noovorous 1 month
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God is a spider. All of creation is an elaborate net to catch souls which She feeds on.
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noovorous 1 month
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Thus awaking from the long night of what seemed, but was not, nonentity, at once into the very regions of fairy-land --into a palace of imagination --into the wild dominions of聽monastic聽thought and聽erudition聽--it is not singular that I gazed around me with a startled and ardent eye --that I loitered away my boyhood in books, and dissipated my youth in聽reverie; but it is singular that as years rolled away, and the noon of manhood found me still in the mansion of my fathers --it is wonderful what stagnation there fell upon the springs of my life --wonderful how total an inversion took place in the character of my commonest thought. The realities of the world affected me as visions, and as visions only, while the wild ideas of the land of dreams became, in turn, --not the material of my every-day existence-but in very deed that existence utterly and solely in itself.
Edgar Allan Poe Berenice
How dare you Master Poe? How dare you call me out in such a way, through such a character while we are on the opposite sides of the hemisphere, me alive and you dead for one and three quarters of century?
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noovorous 1 month
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Beetles that des Eseeintes would keep:
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Zopherus beetles would enable him to realise the project he attempted with a turtle with far greater success. Those beetles are frequently used in Mexico as living brooches, fake jewels glued onto them as well as a chain to pin to your clothing. Jean des Esseintes would definately glue some semi-precious stones to their exoskeletons and then enjoy a terrarium full of shining creatures. Perhaps he'd even wear one as a brooch.
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Musk beetle (Aromia moschata) not only glimmers like a piece of stained glass in a cathedral, it also emits a musk like scent. That little gentleman is born a dandy already clothed and perfumed.
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Madagaskar Giraffe Weevils (Trachelophorus giraffa) would be in eyes of many decadents a delightful display of unorthodox beauty. They move in a manner more reminescent of a clockwork toy than of a living creature and I think this appearance of artificiality would be so alluring to aesthetes and decadents.
With that being said I'm afraid a beetle collection in hands of duke des Esseintes would share the fate of his flowers, that is die of neglect as soon as he experiences his next period of malady.
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