the truth is out there, and its in the heart of downtown toronto
what the actual fuck
this is toronto’s cultural pride and joy and it is slowly being consumed by an alien spacecraft
A significant portion of the city looks like this actually. Toronto’s aesthetic seems to be “real old buildings being devoured by real new buildings.” And like sometimes you have houses that look like a 12 year old’s first minecraft build sorta jammed between Victorian era stone houses it’s real fuckin weird
I feel like ocad and the ago should be added to this because holy shit toronto’s buildings are weird as fuck
THESE LOOK LIKE VIDEO GAME GLITCHES ARE WE SURE TORONTO ISN’T SECRETLY A GIANT GLITCH IN THE MATRIX??
What i’m getting from this is that Toronto is home to Missingno.
speaking of bad buildings
they seemed to have not centred the u of t sign in the glass, decided to just say screw it and extend it off the building and then add a solid O at the end just to add to that toronto aesthetic™
There’s joy in every squiggle of Konstantin Bronzit’s “We Can’t Live Without Cosmos.” The fifteen-minute film, which is nominated for a 2016 Oscar in the animated-short category, follows two unnamed cosmonauts as they prepare for a space mission. They’re best friends who revolve in the same centrifuge, swim in neighboring lanes, and read together at night. Their happiness and exuberance is infectious. It lifts the stone-faced scientists who track their progress; it even expresses itself in their space suits, which are winsomely shaped to accommodate their slightly different heads (one is square, the other rectangular). Even as they prepare for their high-tech journey, they embody old-fashioned, noble virtues: bravery, curiosity, strength, tenderness.
Watching their adventure, I was reminded of a lot of things. I thought, of course, about the American space program—what it has meant and means now. I recalled periods of training in my own life—weeks, months, or even years when I had worked to exceed myself. And I remembered friendships and, particularly, the exciting times when friendships are forged. In its second half, the film takes a meditative, even mystical turn; when that happens, it grows mysterious, exploring feelings and experiences that are harder to name.
I e-mailed Bronzit, who lives in Russia, to ask him what the film was about. “My film is not about the space program, and it is just partly about friendship,” he wrote. “It’s about loneliness. About the very close links between people. About our inability to live in human society without exiting, sometimes, to a different area, an open space where we can really breathe deeply and freely.” The idea for the film, he continued, had come to him in a dream, in the form of an image. That image “exists in my film almost in the very middle exactly, as it was in my dream.” He wouldn’t say which image it was.
At the core of Bronzit’s film is a contradiction. On the one hand, it revels in the intimacies of friendship; on the other, it’s about a solitary journey into the void. We want, and maybe need, both these things to be happy. I’ve watched “We Can’t Live Without Cosmos” again and again, trying to find the one image that expresses that contradiction. I recommend you watch it that way, too.
remember when connecting to the internet sounded like it was performing an exorcism
So many memories
sound used to give me nightmares
Does AOL even exist as an ISP anymore?
I still haven’t convinced my dad and stepmom to stop using AOL. And they now have Comcast! But my stepmom insists on using the AOL software for email and web browsing.
