Arecibo Observatory Detects Mysterious, Energetic Radio Burst – Phenomena ›

A brief, blazing burst of radio waves detected by the Arecibo Observatory could herald a turning of the tide for a peculiar class of cosmic signals. Until recently, the signals had only ever been detected by a telescope in Australia, a pattern that fueled doubts about their origin.

Fewer than a dozen of these bursts, lasting for only a few thousandths of a second, have ever been reported. Called “fast radio bursts,” the signals are cosmic enigmas that appear to come from the very, very distant universe. But since the first burst discovery in 2007, scientists have not only wondered what kind of cosmic object could produce such a tremendously bright, short-lived radio pulse – but have disagreed about whether the bursts are even celestial…

chalkandwater:

Moon jellyfish (Aurelia aurita) gather in huge swarms to feed on the late-summer plankton bloom.

Life (2009)

Sometimes suffering is just suffering. It doesn’t make you stronger. It doesn’t build character. It only hurts.

Kate Jacobs (via girltaurus)

(via treeleaves)

(via remnant)

The truth is, everyone likes to look down on someone. If your favorites are all avant-garde writers who throw in Sanskrit and German, you can look down on everyone. If your favorites are all Oprah Book Club books, you can at least look down on mystery readers. Mystery readers have sci-fi readers. Sci-fi can look down on fantasy. And yes, fantasy readers have their own snobbishness. I’ll bet this, though: in a hundred years, people will be writing a lot more dissertations on Harry Potter than on John Updike. Look, Charles Dickens wrote popular fiction. Shakespeare wrote popular fiction - until he wrote his sonnets, desperate to show the literati of his day that he was real artist. Edgar Allan Poe tied himself in knots because no one realized he was a genius. The core of the problem is how we want to define “literature”. The Latin root simply means “letters”. Those letters are either delivered - they connect with an audience - or they don’t. For some, that audience is a few thousand college professors and some critics. For others, its twenty million women desperate for romance in their lives. Those connections happen because the books successfully communicate something real about the human experience. Sure, there are trashy books that do really well, but that’s because there are trashy facets of humanity. What people value in their books - and thus what they count as literature - really tells you more about them than it does about the book.

englishsnow:

 Reinhard.Pantke

nurse-on-duty:

Ectopia cordis

I just had 10 hair ties and now I can’t find any

based on a true story  (via seabelle)

(via farhia-theparisienne)

sarahswonderland:

My name is Robert Neville. I am a survivor living in New York City. I am broadcasting on all AM frequencies. I will be at the South Street Seaport everyday at mid-day, when the sun is highest in the sky. If you are out there… if anyone is out there… I can provide food, I can provide shelter, I can provide security. If there’s anybody out there… anybody… please. You are not alone.” - I am Legend (2007) dir. Francis Lawrence 

(via Mongolia’s 13-Year-Old Eagle Huntress)

I care so much I’m sick.

Ray BradburyFahrenheit 451  (via selbstvergessen)

(via quievi)

You are in an open field. On one side of you is a deep pit, filled with bones and ashes and hellish things. On the other side is your house, yours sons, the Fjord, and the sunlight is striking the snow high on the mountains. If you want to reach your house, then you must push the baby out as Freya would. Let him rip you, but push out. Choose life.

when women devour
it is for survival
when women take more than they give
it is self-preservation
where did we start looking
for freedom?
what day was it?
how many times have we
borrowed from our own bones
just to keep moving?
how many of us are empty
with survival?
when we take, it is already
an apology
when we give, it is expected
and I am so proud of the monster
in my blood
she fought so hard to be this
cruel
this unforgiving
they showed me the world
told me I could have it
if I just gave a little something
in return

crack my chest open
and I will spill pomegranate seeds
into your hands
what they don’t tell you about Eve
the forbidden fruit
was her own heart

(via allwinksandsmiles)

We’re all mortals you know. Think mortal.
Because my theory is, there’s no such thing as life,
it’s just catastrophe.