The Camp
People disappeared, reappeared, made plans to go somewhere, and then lost each other, searched for each other, found each other a few feet away.
—F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (via alighthouseofwords)
(via tattoolit)
There was once a very lovely, very frightened girl.
she lived alone except for a nameless cat
Breakfast at Tiffany’s, 1961
(Source: m-trollacicconesboobs, via skysignal)
A baby elephant in Samburu, Kenya. (Planet Earth Live - BBC)
(via baboxnancy)
(via langleav)
The best people possess a feeling for beauty, the courage to take risks, the discipline to tell the truth, the capacity for sacrifice. Ironically, their virtues make them vulnerable; they are often wounded, sometimes destroyed.
—Ernest Hemingway (via criminalwisdom)
ALFRED ANAYA PUT SECRET COMPARTMENTS IN CARS. SO THE DEA PUT HIM IN PRISON»
Early drug traffickers stashed their loads in obvious places: wheel wells, spare tires, the nooks of engine blocks. Starting in the early 1980s, however, they switched to what the Drug Enforcement Administration refers to as “urban traps”: medium-size compartments concealed behind electronically controlled facades. The first such stash spots were usually located in the doors of luxury sedans; trap makers, who are often moonlighting auto body specialists, would slice out the door panels and then attach them to the motors that raised and lowered the windows. They soon moved on to building traps in dashboards, seats, and roofs, with button-operated doors secured by magnetic locks. Over time, the magnets gave way to hydraulic cylinders, which made the doors harder to dislodge during police inspections.
By the early 1990s, however, drug traffickers had discovered that these compartments had two major design flaws. The first was that the buttons and switches that controlled the traps’ doors were aftermarket additions to the cars. This made them too easy to locate—police were being trained to look for any widgets that hadn’t been installed on the assembly line.
Second, opening the traps was no great challenge once a cop identified the appropriate button: The compartment’s door would respond to a single press. Sometimes the police would even open traps by accident; a knee or elbow would brush against a button during a vigorous search, and a brick of cocaine would appear as if by magic.
Trap makers responded to the traffickers’ complaints by tapping into the internal electrical systems of cars. They began to connect their compartments to those systems with relays, electromagnetic switches that enable low-power circuits to control higher-power circuits. (Relays are the reason, for example, that the small act of turning an ignition key can start a whole engine.) Some relays won’t let current flow through until several input circuits have been completed—in other words, until several separate actions have been performed. By wiring these switches into cars, trap makers could build compartments that were operated not by aftermarket buttons but by a car’s own factory-installed controls.
(Submitted by Nosmo, Thanks!)
(Source: criminalwisdom)
My Wife’s Fight With Breast Cancer
one of the saddest and most beautiful photo essays I’ve ever seen
(Source: algernoncadwallader, via lovebug)
(entire collection is on my fb)
Forever reblog
This is EXACTLY how I run at the gym when I’m listening to EDM lol
(Source: jamesbadgedale, via healthandcoffee)
Chronic illness, friends, family, travel, love, heartbreak. This book just hits too close to home for me and left me in tears in the last thirty-something pages but that’s not the only thing I take from it. Not knowing anything about it’s content, I started this book a month ago and left it alone at about the halfway mark. I casually just decided to finish it today on Christmas Eve. May it be an uncanny coincidence or not, but this has to be one of the best gifts I’ve ever received.
“That’s the thing about pain… It demands to be felt.”
- John Green, The Fault In Our Stars
Forever in my mind, only you.
(Source: Spotify)
If you imagine less, less will be what you undoubtedly deserve. Do what you love, and don’t stop until you get what you love. Work as hard as you can, imagine immensities, don’t compromise, and don’t waste time. Start now. Not 20 years from now, not two weeks from now. Now.
—
Debbie Millman
http://literaryjukebox.brainpickings.org/post/34546633423
On not deciding what is impossible before it is even possible