[gallery] openmarginalis:

Four Leaves from the Arabic Version of Dioscorides’ De materia medica, W.750 by Dioscordines Pedanius, of Anazarbos and translated by Yuhana bin al-Batriq, Iran ca. 13th century via Walters Art Museum, Creative Commons

Top Row, Left to Right: 1) Mezereon (Spurge-olive) 2) Wild Cucumber

Bottom Row, Left to Right: 1) Thymelaea (Spurge-laurel) 2) A Type of Thymelaea Called ilyusqufinus

[gallery] paperholm:

608.

Current status

excerpt from my Sent folder: liturgy

I only attended low-church evangelical congregations for a few years after I became a Christian, but those were tough times for me, and more than once along the way I wondered if I had made a big mistake by trying to follow Jesus — at least, through trying to follow him alongside other people, in church. It wasn’t that I thought I was better than them — in fact, I usually thought I was worse. I especially felt I was too emotionally incompetent to be an evangelical. I mean, the pastor would tell me how happy I ought to be that Jesus had saved me from my sins, so I tried to be super-happy, but I could never quite get where he thought I needed to be. And then five minutes later he’d tell me how grieved I should be when I realized how deeply sinful I am, and I’d try to make myself appropriately sad at what I, through my rebellion, had done to God — but if I couldn’t climb the mountain of happiness I also couldn’t make my way down into the depths of the pit of sadness. Again: emotionally incompetent.

It was only when I began to worship in the Anglican tradition that I felt the burden lift. Because that tradition gave me the right words to say — words that Christians had prayed (in one language or another) for two thousand years, words that had stood the test of time, that had been crafted by people whose walk with Jesus was longer and stronger than mine would ever be. Instead of trying to feel a certain way, I just needed to focus on saying the right words, and in that way training myself to live inside them.

Even more important, the tradition was so wonderfully patient with me! It didn’t ask me to comprehend the tragedy of my sinfulness immediately. Instead, it said “Here you go, we’re starting this season called Lent now. You’ll have forty days to meditate on these matters, and we the Church will help you at every step.” And then when Easter came the liturgy said to me, “You can’t celebrate this in an instant — in fact, we’re going to take fifty days to live into the miracle of the Resurrection and the new life we have in Christ.”

I cannot possibly overstate what a gift the ancient liturgies and the ancient calendar of the Church have been to me. They have quite literally made it possible for me to be a follower of Jesus. Now, I am sure that if I had never come across the ancient faith God would have found ways to nourish and bless me, but how much smoother my path has been thanks to these old and well-trodden ways. I cannot begin to express my gratitude for them.

[gallery columns=“1” size=“full” ids=“16867”]

A Plan for the Borough of Clinton (never to be built), Harvard University Libraries; via John Overholt on Twitter.

outsider language, insider language

As someone whose mortgage is held by Wells Fargo, I call it massive fraud and theft; as someone who used to work for Wells Fargo, Barro calls it compliance failure.

[gallery]

Legendary graphic designer Michael Bierut, a Pentagram partner who’s created visual branding for clients ranging from United Airlines to Hillary Clinton, has done his work in marble composition books since 1982. “I am now up to notebook No. 112,” said Bierut, whose work has been exhibited at MoMA and the Metropolitan Museum of Art. “Composition books are cheap and easy to find. Despite the rise of electronic communication and digital tools, there is something irresistible about a device that doesn’t need batteries, never freezes or crashes, and hasn’t required an update in decades.”

(via Why Is the Basic Marble Notebook Made by So Many Brands Still So Popular? | Adweek)

[gallery] rare-posters:

Les Beatles. 1962. Paul Colin.
Maquette for a potential French release of an early Beatles record.

11 7/8 x 11 7/8 in./30 x 30 cm

It’s hard to ignore the hideous character failings at the core of the man, and for this purpose maybe especially his fundamental infidelity toward all who rely on his word, which makes it hard to take seriously any assurances. He has sometimes shown himself capable of sticking to script or obeying the teleprompter, and when he does that he raises the possibility that he may be containable. But when Trump is given a chance to reveal something of himself, he without fail reveals a terrifying emptiness. The idea that such a man would be improved by being handed immense power simply refuses to be believed. Even wishful thinking supercharged by a justified dread of what a Hillary Clinton administration could do to the American republic can only go so far—certainly far enough not to vote for her, but for this voter not nearly far enough to vote for him. Neither major-party option in this election is worthy of affirmation, and no amount of wishing it were otherwise is likely to change that. All we can do, it seems to me, is hope and work for a Congress able and inclined to counterbalance a dangerous executive.

[gallery] thingsmagazine:

US of A, 1575 (Bonhams)

The Flight 93 Election

I do not understand why this essay is getting the play it’s getting. It simply recycles every cliché of the Trumpite right.

  • Acknowledging that Trump is “imperfect” and then declining to discuss the magnitude of his flaws? Check.
  • Insisting that Trump has “great strengths” without defining any of them? Check.
  • Affirming that Trump holds “the right stances on the right issues — immigration, trade, and war” without acknowledging that his “stances” on all those issues change more-or-less daily? Check.
  • Claiming that conservatives who oppose Trump just want to keep their inside-the-Beltway Georgetown-cocktail-party status (defined here as taking a paycheck to play for the Washington Generals against the Democratic Globetrotters)?
  • Equating success with wisdom — for now, anyway, until Trump loses? Check.
  • Ranting a lot about death (“death is certain,” “a civilization that wants to die”) and howling that Trump Is Life, without ever explaining or even hinting at what these metaphors mean? Check and double-check.
It’s an utterly vacuous, substance-free, rhetorically unimaginative but ceaselessly flailing rant. In short, precisely what we’ve come to expect from Trump and his celebrants. So what’s there to talk about?