How to Build Your Own TARDIS for $50 or Less:
TARDIS key: Original from Home Depot on left, after sanding to remove branding on right. #BlueBox #DoctorWho
Oh Christ, Not This Asshole Again
A lot of actors act intelligent, but Philip was the real thing: a shining, artistic polymath with an intelligence that came at you like a pair of headlights and enveloped you from the moment he grabbed your hand, put a huge arm round your neck and shoved a cheek against yours; or if the mood took him, hugged you to him like a big, pudgy schoolboy, then stood and beamed at you while he took stock of the effect.
Philip took vivid stock of everything, all the time. It was painful and exhausting work, and probably in the end his undoing. The world was too bright for him to handle. He had to screw up his eyes or be dazzled to death. Like Chatterton, he went seven times round the moon to your one, and every time he set off, you were never sure he’d come back, which is what I believe somebody said about the German poet Hölderlin: Whenever he left the room, you were afraid you’d seen the last of him. And if that sounds like wisdom after the event, it isn’t. Philip was burning himself out before your eyes. Nobody could live at his pace and stay the course, and in bursts of startling intimacy he needed you to know it.
No actor had ever made quite the impact on me that Philip did at that first encounter: not Richard Burton, not Burt Lancaster or even Alec Guinness. Philip greeted me as if he’d been waiting to meet me all his life, which I suspect was how he greeted everyone. But I’d been waiting to meet Philip for a long time. I reckoned his “Capote” the best single performance I’d seen on screen. But I didn’t dare tell him that, because there’s always a danger with actors, when you tell them how great they were nine years ago, that they demand to know what’s been wrong with their performances ever since.
There was a problem about accents. We had really good German actors who spoke English with a German accent. Collective wisdom dictated, not necessarily wisely, that Philip should do the same. For the first few minutes of listening to him, I thought, “Crikey.” No German I knew spoke English like this. He did a mouth thing, a kind of pout. He seemed to kiss his lines rather than speak them. Then gradually he did what only the greatest actors can do. He made his voice the only authentic one, the lonely one, the odd one out, the one you depended on amid all the others. And every time it left the stage, like the great man himself, you waited for its return with impatience and mounting unease.
We shall wait a long time for another Philip. - John le Carré (X)
seen on my face book feed(Anti-vaccination, modern)
who has ever thought this ever
Don’t let your children drink water it might make them think drinking other clear liquids is okay do you want your child drinking bleach
don’t let your children walk, it might make them think its okay to walk away from home
Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure not even people who use heroin believe it is beneficial.
Don’t let your child breathe air. Studies have shown thatin the event of a fire, children who breathe in air are much more likely to breathe in smoke than children who’ve never breathed air.
Don’t have a child. 100% of children grow up and die. You’re literally condemning your own children to die.
Don’t let your children read. They might grow up believing everything they read on the Internet.
How old is this photo.
Because it’s set up like Grandpappy sitting on the rocker telling the youngin’s about his youth.
But at this point in history it looks like one old guy took the only chair and made the rest of his elderly friends sit on the pavement because he’s the senior senior.
Chris Pratt proved he’s a god among men by expertly French braiding an intern’s hair during an interview with Entertainment Tonight.
Chris Pratt shits rainbows. I’m super pumped for GotG.