"Poverty isn’t a money problem for poor people; poverty (in the richest country in the world) is a problem with our distribution of resources. Poverty is the problem of inequality. Poverty is a problem because the rich hoard their resources. Poverty is a problem because corporations hoard cash while Americans remain unemployed. Poverty is a problem because of corporate welfare. Poverty is a problem because of unethical job creators. The problem isn’t because poor people are poor; the problem is because the rich never think they are rich enough." by Poverty isn’t a Money Problem (via sociolab)

(via becauseiamawoman)


Deer skull. 2013.
© Kirstin Anne, all rights reserved.


As Business Insider put it, “Watch America age 110 years in one gif.”
See more on the demographic transformation of The Next America here. 

Anyone else find it intriguing that there will be more people over the age of 85 in 2060 than there will be people in their late 70s?
"It is a lonely idea, a lonely condition, so terrifying to think of that we usually don’t. And so we talk to each other, write and wire each other, call each other short and long distance across land and sea, clasp hands with each other at meeting and at parting, fight each other and even destroy each other because of this always somewhat thwarted effort to break through walls to each other. As a character in a play once said, ‘We’re all of us sentenced to solitary confinement inside our own skins.’" by Tennessee Williams, from “Person-To-Person,” in New Selected Essays: Where I Live, ed. John S. Bak (New Directions, 2009)  (via apoetreflects)

(Source: fables-of-the-reconstruction, via meaninglessfigure)


Behold a geocentric cosmos in this detail from the splendiferous Fra Mauro map of 1450.


When I was a child, it was believed that animals became extinct because they were too specialized. My father used to tell us about the saber-tooth tiger’s teeth — how they got too big and the tiger couldn’t eat because he couldn’t take game anymore. And I remember my father saying, with my brother sitting there, ‘I wonder what it will be with the human beings that will be so overspecialized that they’ll kill themselves off?’

My father never found out that my brother was working on the bomb.

by Richard Feynman’s sister, Joan (via historical-nonfiction)

(Source:, via isolationparty)