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Photo reblogged from Did you know... with 39 notes
Did you know that on the cover the movie The Little Mermaid there is a penis drawn on the castle?
The story behind this: the artist was one of Disney’s top layout artists who has worked on and off for Disney since the fifties and still does. According to him, he did intend for the tower to look like a penis, but when he finished it, he realized it was bit too obvious. (Artists often put hidden images in their work … there are a lot of classical paintings with subliminal skulls and sexual imagery in them. It isn’t a recent thing at all.) The painter was on a deadline to turn it in, so he didn’t have time to fix it. He pointed it out to the production person at Disney and offered to paint it out if they wanted him to. The painting was sent up to a committee of marketing execs for approval. The artist never got a call to change it, so he assumed they liked it with the semi-subliminal penis in it.
OMFG
Photo
Garrett when he was confined at the medical city. Avid reader yan like his tita’s
Text
A Martian Sends A Postcard Home
Caxtons are mechanical birds with many wings
and some are treasured for their markings—
they cause the eyes to melt
or the body to shriek without pain.
I have never seen one fly, but
sometimes they perch on the hand.
Mist is when the sky is tired of flight
and rests its soft machine on the ground:
then the world is dim and bookish
like engravings under tissue paper.
Rain is when the earth is television.
It has the properites of making colours darker.
Model T is a room with the lock inside —
a key is turned to free the world
for movement, so quick there is a film
to watch for anything missed.
But time is tied to the wrist
or kept in a box, ticking with impatience.
In homes, a haunted apparatus sleeps,
that snores when you pick it up.
If the ghost cries, they carry it
to their lips and soothe it to sleep
with sounds. And yet, they wake it up
deliberately, by tickling with a finger.
Only the young are allowed to suffer
openly. Adults go to a punishment room
with water but nothing to eat.
They lock the door and suffer the noises
alone. No one is exempt
and everyone’s pain has a different smell.
At night, when all the colours die,
they hide in pairs
and read about themselves —
in colour, with their eyelids shut.
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