September12014 with 1,650 notes

moomindeco:

Bijouterie Fouquet
Musée Carnavalet, Paris

(Source: un-monde-de-papier, via kimithegreat)

2PM with 127 notes

Frank Sinatra on Religion (like a boss)

  • Playboy: From what you’ve said, it seems that we’ll have to learn something of what makes you tick as a man in order to understand what motivates you as an entertainer. Would it be all right with you if we attempt to do just that—by exploring a few of the fundamental beliefs which move and shape your life?
  • Sinatra: Look, pal, is this going to be an ocean cruise or a quick sail around the harbor? Like you, I think, I feel, I wonder. I know some things, I believe in a thousand things, and I’m curious about a million more. Be more specific.
  • Playboy: All right, let’s start with the most basic question there is: Are you a religious man? Do you believe in God?
  • Sinatra: Well, that’ll do for openers. I think I can sum up my religious feelings in a couple of paragraphs. First: I believe in you and me. I’m like Albert Schweitzer and Bertrand Russell and Albert Einstein in that I have a respect for life—in any form. I believe in nature, in the birds, the sea, the sky, in everything I can see or that there is real evidence for. If these things are what you mean by God, then I believe in God. But I don’t believe in a personal God to whom I look for comfort or for a natural on the next roll of the dice. I’m not unmindful of man’s seeming need for faith; I’m for anything that gets you through the night, be it prayer, tranquilizers or a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. But to me religion is a deeply personal thing in which man and God go it alone together, without the witch doctor in the middle. The witch doctor tries to convince us that we have to ask God for help, to spell out to him what we need, even to bribe him with prayer or cash on the line. Well, I believe that God knows what each of us wants and needs. It’s not necessary for us to make it to church on Sunday to reach Him. You can find Him anyplace. And if that sounds heretical, my source is pretty good: Matthew, Five to Seven, The Sermon on the Mount.
  • Playboy: You haven’t found any answers for yourself in organized religion?
  • Sinatra: There are things about organized religion which I resent. Christ is revered as the Prince of Peace, but more blood has been shed in His name than any other figure in history. You show me one step forward in the name of religion and I’ll show you a hundred retrogressions. Remember, they were men of God who destroyed the educational treasures at Alexandria, who perpetrated the Inquisition in Spain, who burned the witches at Salem. Over 25,000 organized religions flourish on this planet, but the followers of each think all the others are miserably misguided and probably evil as well. In India they worship white cows, monkeys and a dip in the Ganges. The Moslems accept slavery and prepare for Allah, who promises wine and revirginated women. And witch doctors aren’t just in Africa. If you look in the L.A. papers of a Sunday morning, you’ll see the local variety advertising their wares like suits with two pairs of pants.
  • Playboy: Hasn’t religious faith just as often served as a civilizing influence?
  • Sinatra: Remember that leering, cursing lynch mob in Little Rock reviling a meek, innocent little 12-year-old Negro girl as she tried to enroll in public school? Weren’t they—or most of them—devout churchgoers? I detest the two-faced who pretend liberality but are practiced bigots in their own mean little spheres. I didn’t tell my daughter whom to marry, but I’d have broken her back if she had had big eyes for a bigot. As I see it, man is a product of his conditioning, and the social forces which mold his morality and conduct—including racial prejudice—are influenced more by material things like food and economic necessities than by the fear and awe and bigotry generated by the high priests of commercialized superstition. Now don’t get me wrong. I’m for decency—period. I’m for anything and everything that bodes love and consideration for my fellow man. But when lip service to some mysterious deity permits bestiality on Wednesday and absolution on Sunday—cash me out.
  • Playboy: But aren’t such spiritual hypocrites in a minority? Aren’t most Americans fairly consistent in their conduct within the precepts of religious doctrine?
  • Sinatra: I’ve got no quarrel with men of decency at any level. But I can’t believe that decency stems only from religion. And I can’t help wondering how many public figures make avowals of religious faith to maintain an aura of respectability. Our civilization, such as it is, was shaped by religion, and the men who aspire to public office anyplace in the free world must make obeisance to God or risk immediate opprobrium. Our press accurately reflects the religious nature of our society, but you’ll notice that it also carries the articles and advertisements of astrology and hokey Elmer Gantry revivalists. We in America pride ourselves on freedom of the press, but every day I see, and so do you, this kind of dishonesty and distortion not only in this area but in reporting—about guys like me, for instance, which is of minor importance except to me; but also in reporting world news. How can a free people make decisions without facts? If the press reports world news as they report about me, we’re in trouble.
  • Playboy: Are you saying that…
  • Sinatra: No, wait, let me finish. Have you thought of the chance I’m taking by speaking out this way? Can you imagine the deluge of crank letters, curses, threats and obscenities I’ll receive after these remarks gain general circulation? Worse, the boycott of my records, my films, maybe a picket line at my opening at the Sands. Why? Because I’ve dared to say that love and decency are not necessarily concomitants of religious fervor.
  • Playboy: If you think you’re stepping over the line, offending your public or perhaps risking economic suicide, shall we cut this off now, erase the tape and start over along more antiseptic lines?
  • Sinatra: No, let’s let it run. I’ve thought this way for years, ached to say these things. Whom have I harmed by what I’ve said? What moral defection have I suggested? No, I don’t want to chicken out now. Come on, pal, the clock’s running.
  • ~~~
  • Fuck yeah, like a boss. Damn, my respect for Sinatra just increased exponentially.
2PM with 386,871 notes

clubpunk:

andiamburdenedwithgloriousfeels:

jazzfort:

i shouldn’t have laughed as much as i did

nyoom

I died a little

(Source: thefrogman, via theinnkeeperlibrarian)

trains 

1PM with 164,338 notes
9AM with 31,250 notes
“I can’t abandon
the person I used to be
so I carry her” 365 Days of Haiku, Day #123 (via idreamof-pb)

(via theinnkeeperlibrarian)

12AM with 4,321 notes

It has been decided that Halloween season officially begins on September 1 and lasts until 11:59 p.m., October 31. There is far too much to see, do, taste, touch, listen to, scare, hide and/or run from to contain within the 31 available days in October.

Thank you for your cooperation.

Evil Supply Company official press release
August 30, 2012 at 12:56 PM Central, USA (via evilsupplyco)

2nd annual re-issue: August 31, 2013 at 10:51 AM Central, USA

(via evilsupplyco)

3rd annual re-issue: August 31, 2014 at 11:15 AM Central, USA

(via evilsupplyco)

(via gothiccharmschool)

August312014 with 13,936 notes

laylainalaska:

fuckyeahsources:

Nope. But the real story is better. Bolding mine:

The late Ruth Thompson, a cell painter on “Snow White” who later became a multiplane scene planner, recalled: “We tried everything - airbrush, drybrush, even lipstick and rouge, which is perhaps the basis for the legend because we did, in fact, try it. But nothing worked.

The airbrush was difficult to control on such a small area; drybrush was too harsh; lipstick and rouge unwieldy and messy. Everything proved to be impractical and all hope seemed lost to give Snow White her little bit of color when the idea of using a dye was proposed.

Again Ms. Thompson: “Someone suggested a red dye because the blue day we added to give Donald Duck his distinctive sailor-blue never really could be washed off the cell without leaving a bluish stain where the paint had been applied.”

Ever since the mid 30’s when color became the norm for all the cartoons, not just the “Silly Symphonies,” all paints and inks were made at the studio. During this period as well cells were routinely reused for economic reasons, thus the need to wash them off. Apparently Donald’s special blue color was made with a dye added to the usual powdered pigments. “So we tried that.” As the women gathered around in what must have seemed just another dead-end effort, all eyes became fixed on the red dot which soon became a small glow with no perceptible edge. The hushed silence soon gave way to sighs of relief. The method had finally been found. Now the application.

Among the studio’s many inkers (an extremely demanding profession), was one young lady whose training and skill was unique: Helen Ogger. Just being an inker placed one within the elite confines of this most “holy of holies” area of the Nunnery, as the Ink and Paint Department was so called (Walt had strict and quite Victorian views that the sexes not mingle at the workplace, allowing no male personnel save the “gofer” boy and the paymaster “Mr.” Keener to enter this domain of mostly unmarried women ). But Helen was in addition a very fine cartoonist and one of the few women at Disney’s or anywhere else, who could animate.

Such a seemingly insignificant detail (as the cheek colors) might be thought not worthy of special mention (she, as well as the other inkers and painters, was given no screen credit). But when one adds up the number of footage required to be tinted freehand on each individual cell, the hours suddenly turn into weeks and months. In fact, such a treatment was never attempted again on such a scale and even today, the publicity stills from “Snow White,” most of which do not have the added blush, bear witness to how that little touch of extra care adds to the vitality we see on the screen.

The work was done on all close-ups, most medium shots, and even on some long shots. The Queen was also similarly tinted. Hundreds of hours were needed to complete this task, arduous, repetitive and, of course, hard on the eyes. Ultimately a handful of other girls were needed to assist Helen as the clocked ticked toward the deadline.

Helen had to place several cells together on an animation board, one atop the other, just like in the process of animation, in order to get the ‘registration’ right (the spot of red just right in relation to the preceding and following ones) - all of this without any guide. She would work out her own extremes and then ‘animate’ the blush in inbetweens. Her work deserves admiration and gratitude and it is unfortunate that her contribution has remained unknown and her anonymity unaltered during her lifetime. She was paid, as were the rest of the Inkers, $18 a week, which included a half-day on Saturday and the many, many hours of unpaid overtime “Snow White” would require - all given unstintingly, (by everyone involved, it should be added), to a project whose joy in participating was its own reward.

She eventually became head of Inking and Special Effects and even taught classes in animation at the studio. She left in 1941 (apparently part of the terrible strike that would leave the Disney Studio changed forever), taking her skills with her. She died in Glendale in February of 1980. Perhaps it is safe to say that her departure was critical to the abrupt demise of this now unique effect (it was also used, though on a much smaller scale in both “Pinocchio” and “Fantasia”). None of the other inkers or painters were animators and it is this fact, not just the factor of economy nor the changing tastes, which surely must be considered a reason why such details were never attempted again. The golden age was over.

Also, here’s an interesting article about female cel painters at Disney. I am now fascinated by the idea of writing something with a Depression-era cel painter as a protagonist.

(Source: timblanks, via imakethingsigrowthings)

9PM with 71 notes

recycledmoviecostumes:

This beautiful Victorian gown is a wonderful example of the importance of both good alterations and using the appropriate undergarments for a period gown.  It’s a true testament to the quality of the costumes that are reused and recycled over the years that they can still hold up well enough and look beautiful after two, three - sometimes even twelve uses.  However, even a gown that is still in great condition after a long period of time will suffer if it is not properly supported in the method in which it was designed.

This Victorian gown was designed for Francesca Annis in the 1978 mini-series Lillie, in which she played the title character of Lillie Langtry.  Her dress is not only stunning - it fits her like a glove and is supported underneath by the proper corset that gives it a very distinctive shape.  The gown was used again in 1981 on Jeananne Crowley as Rossanna McGee in Cribb: Invitation to a Dynamite Party. This time it appears that it is supported by the proper undergarments, but that it is just a bit too large for Jeananne Crowley.  The third usage of this garment was on Gina Mckee as Irene in the 2002 production of The Forsyte Saga. McKee may be wearing some kind of corset, though if she is, the gown is far too large for her and has not been taken in appropriately at all. The gown on McKee is still in relatively good condition, but without being properly supported and fitted is frankly unremarkable. It is fascinating to see the vast differences between its appearance in 2002 and 1978.

Costume Credit: James, Shrewsbury Lasses

E-mail Submissions: submissions@recycledmoviecostumes.com

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8PM with 17,310 notes

burymeinyellowhenidie:

Eartha Kitt as Catwoman

Eartha Kitt IS Catwoman

(Source: zavimbi, via themarysue)

8PM with 110 notes

alamutjones said: I humbly request that my niece, E, be inducted into the Birthday Unending. She was born yesterday, and if I can give her one thing I want it to be the knowledge that the strangeness of the world doesn't have to be frightening. The rules of the Corn Maze seem like a good place to start. I'll pay her way with freshly made banana bread and a purple feather boa for the nearest skeleton to dance in.

seananmcguire:

OF COURSE SHE IS WELCOME.  NOW IF YOU WILL EXCUSE US…

HELLO, E.  WELCOME TO THE BIRTHDAY, AND WELCOME TO THE WORLD.

IT WILL BE A STRANGE PLACE, AT TIMES.  IT WILL ASK THINGS OF YOU THAT YOU MAY NOT WANT TO GIVE.  IT WILL ASK YOUR TIME AND YOUR OBEDIENCE, AND THERE WILL BE TIMES WHEN YOU MUST LISTEN.  IT IS HARD, TO BE A CHILD, TO BE BEHOLDEN TO THOSE WHO ARE OLDER THAN YOU.  THEY WILL SAY “WEAR A JACKET” AND “HOLD MY HAND” AND “EAT YOUR BROCCOLI,” AND YOU WILL NEED TO DO AS THEY SAY, FOR THEY ARE LOOKING AFTER YOUR WELL-BEING.

BUT THEY WILL ALSO SAY “THINK AS I THINK” AND “DO AS I DO” AND “BE AS I AM,” AND THESE THINGS, YOU DO NOT HAVE TO LISTEN TO.  YOU ARE A MIRACLE GIVEN FLESH.  YOU ARE STARDUST AND SPIRIT, AND THE ONLY HOUSE YOU ARE REQUIRED TO HAUNT IS YOUR OWN.  DO NOT ALLOW THEM TO COMMAND YOUR IDENTITY: FIND IT FOR YOURSELF, BE THE PERSON YOU DREAM OF BEING, AND GROW KNOWING THAT YOU ARE STRONG BECAUSE YOU ARE STARDUST, AND OWE YOUR STRENGTH TO NO ONE.

LISTEN.  LEARN.  LOVE.  DECIDE.

HERE IS YOUR PLACE AT THE TABLE.  HERE IS YOUR CONICAL HAT.  HERE IS LOVE ENOUGH FOR A LIFETIME, AND ALL OF IT FOR YOU, SKELETON CHILD, STARDUST CHILD, CHILD OF THE BIRTHDAY.

WELCOME TO THE BIRTHDAY.  WELCOME TO THE BIRTHDAY.  WELCOME TO THE BIRTHDAY UNENDING.

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