saintartemis
Keeping the Dirt Clean
Artemis, She/her |archaeologist turned museum person| I'm allowed to touch the old stuff, and I only ever dug up dinosaurs that one time and never again. Beware, history and fandoms ahead. Feel free to drop me an ask!
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I know it's probably for dramatics and it is a movie, but the fact that the museum in The Mummy 1999, is seemingly primarily lit by open flame really bothers me as a museum person.
#that is not good disaster mitigation#or collections care#still my favorite movie#the mummy 1999#museums#artemis speaks#tipsy artemis
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STILL ON PATROL
I learned something new and horrifying today which is⊠that⊠no submarine is ever considered âlostâ âŠÂ there is apparently a tradition in the U.S. Navy that no submarine is ever lost. Those that go to sea and do not return are considered to be âstill on patrol.â
?????
There is a monument about this along a canal near here its⊠the worst thing I have ever seen. it says âSTILL ON PATROLâ in huge letters and then goes on to specify exactly how many WWII submarine ghosts are STILL OUT THERE, ON PATROL (it is almost 2000 WWII submarine ghosts, ftr). Here is the text from it:
âU.S. Navy Submarines paid heavily for their success in WWII. A total of 374 officers and 3131 men are still on board these 52 U.S. submarines still on patrol.â
THANKS A LOT, U.S. NAVY, FOR HAVING THIS TOTALLY NORMAL AND NOT AT ALL HORRIFYING TRADITION, AND TELLING ALL OF US ABOUT IT. THANKS. THANK YOU
anyway now my mother and I cannot stop saying STILL ON PATROL to each other in ominous tones of voice
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A heart's a heavy burden.
HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE | 2004
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So, thanks to President Bidenâs Infrastructure Bill, remote locations on the Navajo Nation Reservation will be receiving electricity for the first time â ever.
Also, water treatment devices are being developed to help the tribe access clean running water. After decades without.
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Okay, buckle up buckaroos, because today I met an honest-to-goodness cryptid.
I was out running errands and I made a stop at Intimate Books (âŠfor a friend), and on my way out I realized that the bookshop next door was open.
This bookshop has existed for more than a hundred years, and in all my life it has NEVER BEEN OPEN. I mean, I assume it has to be open sometimes, but never at any normal, reasonable hour. Everyone says itâs a front for the mob or something.
So what do you do when the weird mafia bookshop is open? You go the fuck inside.
The first thing I noticed was the smell. You know that smell when you accidentally leave your towel on the bathroom floor all day and you come back to that mildew funk? The shop smelled like that times a thousand. I expected to see stuff growing on the walls, but the books were pristine. Weâre talking first editions, rare editions, weird Bibles and books inscribed to really famous dead people. Librarians would weep for the chance to accession this place. In the first two minutes I found a signed copy of The Crucible and what I think was a first edition of Blakeâs Book of Thel.
Then a clerk showed up out of nowhereâhonestly nowhere. He looked EXACTLY like a bookseller should look, kind of fluffy and bewildered and really, really gay.
âAre you lost?â was the first thing he said to me.
âNope. Just browsing, thanks.â
âBrowsing, I see. Erm. How do you feel about snakes?â he asked. And without waiting for me to answer, he just walked away and vanished around a shelf.
I figured it was a metaphor, or a code phrase for the mafia. Until I turned a corner like ten minutes later and found a little reading nook. It was really pretty, although I feel like that particular window should have been on an interior wall? Anyway, curled up in an armchair in a patch of sunlight was the biggest fuck-off black snake I have ever seen.
Like, I donât mind snakes in general. But in their normal context, right? Outside. On the ground. Not six feet long and sitting on a threadbare velvet armchair like it owns the place.
I was about to turn around and leave, but I saw a gorgeous first-edition copy of Leaves of Grass on a shelf, a little too close to the snake for comfort. But I had never needed anything so badly in my life.
So I went back to the counter to buy it, but the clerk was nowhere to be found.
While I was waiting, I noticed a collection of pictures hanging on the wall behind the counter, dating back to the very dawn of photography. A couple were of this rock-star looking guy from the 70s that I should probably have recognized, but there were authors and landscapes and stuff, too. There was even an old tintype portrait of Oscar freaking Wilde, sitting in this very shop with a guy that I would ACTUALLY SWEAR was the clerk from before. Like, I know my family all has the same nose, but this guy had the same everything.
After approximately one year of waiting, the clerk came back out to the desk. By now Iâve realized that heâs too bad at his job to be anything but the owner of the shop.
âI saw your snake,â I told him.
âDid you? Was he behaving himself?â
âHe was sleeping.â
âYes, he enjoys that.â
âDoes he just stay out in the open like that? What if he gets out?â
He shrugged and smiled. âHe always comes home again, the dear boy.â
Right, a homing snake. Thatâs totally normal.
Then he cleared his throat and asked, in a weirdly reluctant voice, if I was going to buy the Whitman.
âYes, please,â I told him. âI saw it on a shelf by the snake, and it was just too tempting.â
He sighed. âOh, yes, I expect it was.â
When I started to hand him my card, he went all fluttery and said that they didnât take cards.
All right, fine. I had some cash on me, but I told him that heâd sell a lot more books if he got a Square or something.
He got this scandalized look on his face and went, âWhy would I want to do that?â
Oookay. I handed over the cash and he popped open the ancient till and started making change.
In shillings. Shillings! I swear to god I saw Queen Anneâs face on one of them. The silver value of the coins was probably as much as I paid for the book.
But I had to have proof that this happenedâat that point, all I had was a book in a plain brown wrapper, not appreciably different from what I bought next door. So I asked him for a receipt.
He looked delighted and wrote one up for me.
By hand.
With a fountain pen.
And thatâs the story of how I met a bookseller cryptid and his pet snake.
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hey, museum folks. on April 16, the ceiling in the library at Boscobel House collapsed unexpectedly
Before the collapse.
This New York mansion from 1806 was saved AFTER demolition in the 1950s, when the architectural elements were recovered and reassembled in another location near its original site. It's of great artistic and historical significance, not the least because the staff has been working on a project to document the lives of the family's Black servants- the ones who were free when hired, and the ones who had been enslaved by said family and freed before the house was finished -since 2020
if anyone can donate even a little bit to help with the recovery efforts, here is the link
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GĂ©rard de Lairesse
Apollo and Aurora
1671
Oil on canvas, 205 x 193 cm
Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
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Princess Mononoke (1997)
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Fontainebleau State Park, Louisiana by Lana Gramlich
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I really like how many of the worldâs most iconic structures and places are just right next to some of the most mundane stuff imaginable, for example
Stonehenge
Is right next to a busy road
The Pyramids of Giza
Are at the outskirts of Cairo
Niagara Falls
Are part of the town of the same name
And Agrippaâs Pantheon
Is crammed inside downtown Rome
It just so interesting to notice.
#okay but that first pic of the pyramids is photoshopped#the sphinx isnât even facing the right way if weâre looking at the queenâs pyramids#also technically theyâre outside of the city of Giza#which is practically cairo but still#the pantheon is amazing#with how close all the buildings are in the court in front of it#it just feels bigger somehow?#idk it feels wild
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say what you will about the historical figure of Cardinal Richelieu but the âblack breastplate over cardinalâs robesâ look is some warhammer shit
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Ohhh my God, the current VA for Foghorn Leghorn actually dubbed it.
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One thing that helps me calm down about intra-left-wing sniping and the reality that the big center-left coalition inevitably includes a lot of ridiculous nonsense, is to remember how ubiquitous seances were to progressive politics in the 19th century. Like, e.g., Frederick Douglas had to go to so many seances. Many, many political strategy sessions around the country had to include feedback from the ghost of Moses who spoke to us via morse code. Â
#on the left everyone has most of the same things on their list theyâre just in different orders#and no one can agree which one we should work on first before tackling the rest of the list
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