Photoset

theroguefeminist:

atomic-glitter:

theroguefeminist:

heterophobicgoat:

stupidandreckless:

NOOOO NO NO NONO FUCK FUCK  FUCKIG CBS IS TELLING WOMEN NOT TO REPORT SEXUAL HARASSMENT BECAUSE IT WILL “DAMAGE THEIR CAREERS” and “HARASSMENT IS AN UNFORTUNATE PART OF CLIMBING THE LADDER” I AM SO ANGRY THEY ARE LITERALLY TURNING SEXUAL HARASSMENT INTO A NORM THIS IS NOT OKAY

This is an actual article and I’m still having a hard time believing it’s real.

this is disgusting

I don’t understand why all of these terrifyingly, recklessly misogynistic articles I’ve been seeing lately are being written by women…

ew it’s by A WOMAN
jesus

(via shychemist)

Link

talesofthestarshipregeneration:

Click thru for the rest. 

(via shychemist)

Photo
thalensis:

[Image description: Helen Keller sits by a radio, with her hand over it, in order to feel the vibrations of the music playing]
Helen Keller wrote the following letter to the New York Symphony Orchestra in 1924, describing listening to the “Ninth Symphony” composed by Beethoven - who was also deaf - over the radio: 

“Dear Friends:
I have the joy of being able to tell you that, though deaf and blind, I spent a glorious hour last night listening over the radio to Beethoven’s “Ninth Symphony.” I do not mean to say that I “heard” the music in the sense that other people heard it; and I do not know whether I can make you understand how it was possible for me to derive pleasure from the symphony. It was a great surprise to myself. I had been reading in my magazine for the blind of the happiness that the radio was bringing to the sightless everywhere. I was delighted to know that the blind had gained a new source of enjoyment; but I did not dream that I could have any part in their joy. Last night, when the family was listening to your wonderful rendering of the immortal symphony someone suggested that I put my hand on the receiver and see if I could get any of the vibrations. He unscrewed the cap, and I lightly touched the sensitive diaphragm. What was my amazement to discover that I could feel, not only the vibration, but also the impassioned rhythm, the throb and the urge of the music! The intertwined and intermingling vibrations from different instruments enchanted me. I could actually distinguish the cornets, the roil of the drums, deep-toned violas and violins singing in exquisite unison. How the lovely speech of the violins flowed and plowed over the deepest tones of the other instruments! When the human voices leaped up thrilling from the surge of harmony, I recognized them instantly as voices more ecstatic, upcurving swift and flame-like, until my heart almost stood still. The women’s voices seemed an embodiment of all the angelic voices rushing in a harmonious flood of beautiful and inspiring sound. The great chorus throbbed against my fingers with poignant pause and flow. Then all the instruments and voices together burst forth – an ocean of heavenly vibration – and died away like winds when the atom is spent, ending in a delicate shower of sweet notes.
Of course this was not “hearing,” but I do know that the tones and harmonies conveyed to me moods of great beauty and majesty. I also sense, or thought I did, the tender sounds of nature that sing into my hand-swaying reeds and winds and the murmur of streams. I have never been so enraptured before by a multitude of tone-vibrations.
As I listened, with darkness and melody, shadow and sound filling all the room, I could not help remembering that the great composer who poured forth such a flood of sweetness into the world was deaf like myself. I marveled at the power of his quenchless spirit by which out of his pain he wrought such joy for others – and there I sat, feeling with my hand the magnificent symphony which broke like a sea upon the silent shores of his soul and mine.” 

thalensis:

[Image description: Helen Keller sits by a radio, with her hand over it, in order to feel the vibrations of the music playing]

Helen Keller wrote the following letter to the New York Symphony Orchestra in 1924, describing listening to the “Ninth Symphony” composed by Beethoven - who was also deaf - over the radio: 

“Dear Friends:

I have the joy of being able to tell you that, though deaf and blind, I spent a glorious hour last night listening over the radio to Beethoven’s “Ninth Symphony.” I do not mean to say that I “heard” the music in the sense that other people heard it; and I do not know whether I can make you understand how it was possible for me to derive pleasure from the symphony. It was a great surprise to myself. I had been reading in my magazine for the blind of the happiness that the radio was bringing to the sightless everywhere. I was delighted to know that the blind had gained a new source of enjoyment; but I did not dream that I could have any part in their joy. Last night, when the family was listening to your wonderful rendering of the immortal symphony someone suggested that I put my hand on the receiver and see if I could get any of the vibrations. He unscrewed the cap, and I lightly touched the sensitive diaphragm. What was my amazement to discover that I could feel, not only the vibration, but also the impassioned rhythm, the throb and the urge of the music! The intertwined and intermingling vibrations from different instruments enchanted me. I could actually distinguish the cornets, the roil of the drums, deep-toned violas and violins singing in exquisite unison. How the lovely speech of the violins flowed and plowed over the deepest tones of the other instruments! When the human voices leaped up thrilling from the surge of harmony, I recognized them instantly as voices more ecstatic, upcurving swift and flame-like, until my heart almost stood still. The women’s voices seemed an embodiment of all the angelic voices rushing in a harmonious flood of beautiful and inspiring sound. The great chorus throbbed against my fingers with poignant pause and flow. Then all the instruments and voices together burst forth – an ocean of heavenly vibration – and died away like winds when the atom is spent, ending in a delicate shower of sweet notes.

Of course this was not “hearing,” but I do know that the tones and harmonies conveyed to me moods of great beauty and majesty. I also sense, or thought I did, the tender sounds of nature that sing into my hand-swaying reeds and winds and the murmur of streams. I have never been so enraptured before by a multitude of tone-vibrations.

As I listened, with darkness and melody, shadow and sound filling all the room, I could not help remembering that the great composer who poured forth such a flood of sweetness into the world was deaf like myself. I marveled at the power of his quenchless spirit by which out of his pain he wrought such joy for others – and there I sat, feeling with my hand the magnificent symphony which broke like a sea upon the silent shores of his soul and mine.” 

(Source: afb.org, via lb-lee)

Quote
"[A]n insolent coxcomb who rarely dined in good company, where there was good wine, without getting silly and vaporing about his administration like a young girl about her brilliants and trinkets"

— John Adams on Alexander Hamilton to Benjamin Rush, January 25, 1806

(Source: publius-esquire)

Photo
fripperiesandfobs:

Day dress, 1880’s
From the collection of Alexandre Vassiliev

fripperiesandfobs:

Day dress, 1880’s

From the collection of Alexandre Vassiliev

Photoset

gunneratlarge:

Shots of the artillery this past weekend, and my true debut as a corporal.

(via dailyreenactor)

Photo
psychofactz:

More Facts on Psychofacts :)
Text

The Unusual Rebellion of Thomas B. Adams.

theotherdude-adams:

"In April [1800] Thomas returned to Philadelphia to establish a legal practice there.  Abigail had hoped he would settle near Quincy, and she parted with him reluctantly.  She worried about him, especially about the danger of yellow fever; she made him promise that he would flee the city at the first sign of disease.  She also wrote to a close friend in Philadelphia, Mary Otis, asking that Thomas be permitted to board with them.  She was concerned about his "delicate" health, she told Mrs. Otis, and would rest easier knowing that he lived under  her "maternal care."

Thomas himself had other ideas, preferring to live in a boarding house recommended by his friends rather than board with the Otises.  Thomas had a streak of independence that caused him to bridle at his mother’s protectiveness.  He chose to live in Philadelphia and live on his own.  He spent much of his time with Quakers, and preferred their simple dress to the ornate styles fashionable in the 1790s.  He refused to wear a wig or dress his hair in the manner common among gentlemen, despite his parents’ criticism.  He wrote gleefully to Abigail of an encounter with a man who had known John twenty years earlier.  The gentleman, he wrote, said that Thomas reminded him of his father as a young man; in particular, John had worn his hair the same way.  ”Did he, indeed, Sir?” Thomas responded. “The information is very acceptable to me and shall not be lost, for I have been somewhat persecuted since my return on account of the cut of my hair.”  The man replied that no doubt it was because the wigless Thomas appeared too “democratic.”“

-Dearest Friend: A Life of Abigail Adams by Lynne Withey

Photo
fripperiesandfobs:

Walking dress, 1860’s
From the collection of Alexandre Vassiliev

fripperiesandfobs:

Walking dress, 1860’s

From the collection of Alexandre Vassiliev

(via the-fisher-queen)

Quote
"An adventurer, born out of wedlock, Hamilton suffered from a complex utterly unknown to his young companions, to Laurens, the son of a wealthy planter, or to Meade or Harrison or Tilghman, with their comfortable social standing. His small stature, too, was a tender subject with Hamilton, and his erect bearing had a touch of defiance in it. Colonel Harrison hit it off when he called him ‘the Little Lion.’ He was proud and, underneath the affected hardness, was a very sensitive young gentleman."

— From Washington and His Aides-De-Camp by Emily Stone Whiteley (via cool-cool-considerate-men)

(via madtomedgar)

Photo
carolathhabsburg:

Just graduated. Late 1880s

carolathhabsburg:

Just graduated. Late 1880s

(Source: ebay.com, via the-fisher-queen)

Photo
minutemanworld:

George Washington’s compass that he used while working as a surveyor.
Made by David Rittenhouse who was famous for making all sorts of instruments, clocks, watches, etc, in addition to being an astronomer, scientist and the first director of the United States Mint.

minutemanworld:

George Washington’s compass that he used while working as a surveyor.

Made by David Rittenhouse who was famous for making all sorts of instruments, clocks, watches, etc, in addition to being an astronomer, scientist and the first director of the United States Mint.

(Source: nysl.nysed.gov)

Quote
"

A British woman officer or non-commissioned officer can and often does give orders to a man private. The men obey smartly and know it is no shame. For British women have proven themselves in this war. They have stuck to their posts near burning ammunition dumps, delivered messages afoot after their motorcycles have been blasted from under them. They have pulled aviators from burning planes. They have died at the gun posts and as they fell another girl has stepped directly into the position and “carried on.” There is not a single record in this war of any British woman in uniformed service quitting her post or failing in her duty under fire.

Now you understand why British soldiers respect the women in uniform. They have won the right to the utmost respect.

"

— From a guide for US troops stationed in Britain in WW2. (via the-female-soldier)

(via everythingis19)

Photoset

elpasha71:

Nocturnal

Dial consisting of a disk engraved on both sides. The recto bears markings for the zodiac signs, months, and days. On it rotates a circle divided into 29 parts and carrying two indexes; on this circle is a small rotating disk fitted with a gnomon, a compass, and an index with the French inscription - Ligne de foy - [line of trust]. On this side the instrument could be used either as a sundial or a nocturnal. The verso carries the hour lines and a small tilting gnomon. There is a suspension ring. The inscriptions in French and the word - Pign - engraved on the index suggest the instrument was made by a craftsman named Pineau, on whom we have no information. Probable provenance: Medici collections

(via carolynknapp-shappey)