Few things are worse than rolling up your pants to wade in the lake after a good hike only to find five ticks running up your leg.
Creepy crawly feeling all night.
Also, there were no more tent spots at the park. Today was disappointing.
![millionsmillions:
The Marriage Plot, the movie?
[Image via IndieWire]
You guys know what I don’t want.
This.](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m4ejjaYH0p1r6xvfko1_250.jpg)
Lewis Buzbee, The Yellow-Lighted Bookshop (via prettybooks)
Bums me out.
She&Him - Oh Boy!
My other half moves back home today.
Tom Hiddleston reads Bright Star by John Keats
Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art—
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors—
No—yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever—or else swoon to death.
(Source: lazyocean, via fuckyeahreading)
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We all know a bad translation when we see one… or do we? Translations of all sorts can, at best, ensure our shared survival. And at worst, mistranslations have had varied, far-reaching and often disastrous effects, as basic as “all your base are belong to us” or as serious as botched postwar food aid.
This time it’s all about translation. What is it? Is it an art or a science? What does it mean to translate something correctly— and, more importantly, what happens when translation goes wrong? I spoke to Jay Rubin, translator of bestselling author Haruki Murakami, among others, to find out.
