Something about how the mourner pottery shard looks like the warden
Something about the friend shard being a villager or iron golem
Something about how snort, historically used for piglins, is used for the e sniffer shard
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this image sent me into the most unreasonable paroxysms of laughter
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“I am a bit worried about my letter from yesterday. I did not have a stamp and I gave it to a postman in Grasse who looked drunk. But I noticed it too late. Tell me if you received it (the one dated Thursday). Today is a wonderful day, an avalanche of light and I would like to stand with you in this rain of sunshine, to flow together, to melt into it... in mornings like this, life roars within me.
But it's not unpleasant. Yesterday afternoon I answered an interminable mail. Nothing exciting. I received the issue of Esprit which is partly dedicated to me. Bespaloff's article is admirable. Mounier's is like spaghetti: it runs. It has no body. But I didn't know I was so black. I thought there was some sunshine in my work, anyway. I was probably wrong. Unless these Christians are systematically ignoring the pagan side of what I do.
Do you want me to send you that number? This morning I corrected the proofs of the Righteous. With an emotion that wasn't literary. The book will come out in February*. Ah! Dora darling...! Tomorrow the Gallimards arrive. Yesterday a German shepherd arrived, a magnificent one, whom the mistress of the house sent us to guard for a few days. His name is Kim, he doesn't leave me anymore and even pretends to sleep with me. Right now he's licking my feet to distract me from you. But I explained the situation to him and I think he understood.
Do you know a producer named Cartier**? (Marcel). He's making me proposals for The Plague and in a tone that I like. But I'd like to know more. Ah! Darling, there's something in me that wants to stretch, to lie down against you... Spring, hurry! And to find my naturalness, my abandonment, an innocent pleasure... Write to me a lot. What are you doing? Are you facing me? I'd die losing you, at least know it. I have to give this letter to the postman if I want her to leave tomorrow. But not without telling you again that I love you and that I'm counting the hours until I see your beautiful face. Above all, rest, rest in my love. I live off you, only and always, Maria darling.”
Albert Camus to Maria Casarès, Correspondance, January 13, 1950 [#128]
* The first edition of Les Justes was published by Gallimard on March 5, 1950.
** Marcel Cartier was notably director of the production of Jean-Pierre Melville's Silence of the Sea (1947), based on the novel by Vercors.
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Christmas as a cultural icon is starting to get really dystopian in a climate sense, december has historically been a time of year in which there would be snow in a significant portion of europe and north america, and the fact that its not even icy this time of year and all the christmas songs and decorations reference a time of year that will likely never exist in the same way again in my life time is so strange.
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yknow i never noticed the sheer rareness of images having ids or alt text on this website until i started adding alt text to my art (and trying to remember to add it to any images i post in general, especially text screenshots) and that makes me kinda sad
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i feel like a lot of the 'i hate kids' crowd would be more tolerant if they understood that due to a kid's limited experience of the world that 4 hour flight might just be the longest they've ever had to sit still for or that trapped finger might literally be the most pain they've ever felt in their short life or they might not have ever seen a person with pink hair ever so of course they want to touch it or nobody's told them yet that they can't run around the museum and they only just learned cheetahs are the fastest animals so of course they want to put that to the test. how were they supposed to know etc etc.
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can’t stop thinking about my friend’s cishet partner who said last night that he doesn’t think anyone is the same gender. god-tier take.
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it's such a bummer that losing control of your emotions only makes the entire situation worse in really embarrassing personal ways. losing control of my emotions should give me pyrokinesis.
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