No one before Bernini had managed to make marble so carnal. In his nimble hands it would flatter and stream, quiver and sweat. His figures weep and shout, their torses twist and run, and arch themselves in spasms of intense sensation. He could, like an alchemist, change one material into another - marble into trees, leaves, hair, and, of course, flesh.
- Simon Schama’s Power of Art. Bernini
yeah seriously tell us how wizardry’s done in the new world tell me how the wizards from france and spain and britain stamped out the brujos and the medicine men and set up their own schools tell me what the fuck the british raj did to fucking india because the patel twins are going to school in scotland and what are they told about their history, tell me about native american kids learning to say wingardium leviosa with hate in their hearts and tell me about wizarding rabbis bickering about whether you can use potions on the sabbath tell me about the slaves on their ships with their wands broken, mouthing curses in the dark tell me about the runaways that made it with garter snakes wrapped around their wrists that told them when they tasted dogs in the distance, tell me about the underground railroad and abolitionists with unbreakable vows and home-spun invisibility cloaks and disilusionments, using obliviate, using imperio, knowing that they served a higher justice, tell me about what happened to black wizards in the fifties, about what gates they were storming in the sixties tell me about queer wizards taking love potions every morning in their coffee to stay married to their husbands and their wives because what else could they do?
the world only begins and ends with straight white christians if you don’t bother looking any farther than that and too many people don’t and i am tired, tired, tired
"Muggleborns in Hogwarts starting a film club and introducing Purebloods to any number of Teen romantic comedies"
What Muggleborns should do is start a film club and make Purebloods watch something that will scare the shit out of them. Make them watch Alien. Silence of the Lambs. Final Destination. Saw.
Show a them marathon of the best of Muggle horror and watch their eyes widen and faces go pale as they realize just how fucked up Muggles are.
We Potterheads aren’t kidding when we are saying she’s the queen
"Come on, Lily, do you really think I would bring a bomb to Hogwarts?"
“Yes, Potter, I really believe that you would do such a thing.”
(a gift to her)
what is this mysterious ticking noise?
Crows are scary
- use tools
- Can be taught to speak (like parrots)
- Have huge brains for birds
- like seriously their brain-to-body size ratio is equal to that of a chimpanzee
- They vocalize anger, sadness, or happiness in response to things
- they are scary smart at solving puzzles
- some ravens stay with their mates until one of them dies
- they can remember faces
- SIDENOTE HERE BECAUSE HOLY SHIT. They did an experiment where these guys wore masks and some of them fucked with crows. Pretty soon the crows recognized the masks = douchebag. But the nice guys with masks they left alone. THEN, OH WE’RE NOT DONE, NO SIR crows that WEREN’T EVEN IN THE EXPERIMENT AND NEVER SAW THE MASK BEFORE knew about mask-dudes and attacked them on sight. THEY PASSED ON THE FUCKING INFORMATION TO THEIR CROW BUDDIES.
- They remember places where crows were killed by farmers and change their migration patterns.
Guys I’m really scared of crows now.
i love crows so much
crows are amazing
My favorite legend is that crows are the souls of the dead
crows are the coolest shit
Yeah but have you seen this
Artist Cesar Santos’ paintings seemingly bring the works of masters – from the Renaissance to the nineteenth century to Modernism – together, juxtaposing their styles one on top of the other.
This astronomical watch accurately tracks the position of the six planets visible from Earth. You can look down at your wrist at any time and know exactly where you are in the universe. (Also tells the time just in case you wanted that too) See more here
LILY AND THE PORTRAIT:
Portraits could only mimic their real counterparts, even the headmaster portraits that were specially trained to guide Hogwarts’ future generations. Severus had no such time in his single year as Headmaster—and yet, his portrait seemed real enough to befriend. She first found him in a oft-empty frame by the armor gallery and tried to show Al, but Al said that they already met once, and they didn’t get past introductions and “Your father named you what?”
She bore the old headmaster’s sneers better than her brothers, and he was kinder to her, in his own way. She found that if she brought her Potions homework and sat underneath the frame, he would ridicule her mistakes as she worked but slowly enough for her to correct each of them. In her sixth year, after showing him her O in Potions, he told her where to find his old textbook.
On her last day of Hogwarts, she knocked next to the frame. Slowly, one of his eyes opened, like a serpent awoken from its slumber.
“Thank you, Professor.”
His lip curled upwards. She sensed some pride. “You are welcome. You were an excellent pupil.” He paused momentarily. "Miss Potter."
If her father were listening, he’d have thought it strange, for it would have been the first time that he heard his last name uttered in that voice without disdain.