Bronze age
metaphor
The biomechanics of desire
“When you hear the new violet sucking her way among the sods, shall you be resolute?”
— Emily Dickinson to Catherine Scott Turner, about 1859. The Letters of Emily Dickinson, ed. Thomas H. Johnson and Theodora Ward. Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1958. Letter 203.
Vagina monologue; or, mate in one, from the golden age of the horror movie
Source of the advertisement: http://www.retronaut.com/2014/06/bohn-against-communism/. Publication date: March 1952. Photoshopped.
Source of the other game: lawn, Honolulu, Hawaii.
The theory of the big bang
Usage note: the phrasal verb “get through to”
1. Get through to denotes communication, but its originating metaphor connotes forcing, piercing, penetrating. To get through to is one way of communicating; to be gotten through to is another. The difference is a bloody matter of the difference between prey and predator.
2. The communication channel of getting through to is fear. In fear of being gotten through to, some people calm their pounding hearts by remembering that they believe in their gun and their Bible. Others choose to mask their susceptibility to communication behind deflecting layers of irony. The warehouse full of Basquiats, check; the Russian passport, check.
3. Getting through to can also be thought of as a speech act like voting or naming: a way of doing things with words. Under the control of speech-act technologists like Frank Luntz and Roger Ailes, language is a symbol system used by the people with the Basquiats to get through to people whose symbols are at pre-ironic stages of development.
Homophony, metaphor, and visualization: the problem of scale
In the comment stream following an article here about cyberbullying,
http://www.scientificamerican.com/podcast/episode.cfm?id=bullies-turn-cyberspace-sour-13-05-11
someone writes, “Social media could be seen as a sort of petri dish for studying the methods and morays of such individuals.”
About which, two images.
From my former life, a petri dish full of bacterial colonies, with a human hand to show scale: 
From my present life on a reef-girded island, a moray (photograph not by me):
And on behalf of language and its property of evoking visual imagery, a song of joy:
O tempora! My hovercraft (as M. Python once exclaimed) is full of eels!
Tasty
“Control of our culture must be wrested from those who poisoned it, so as to resurrect the banners of honor and re-impose the taboos of shame that once served as the guardrails of common decency.”
— Letter to the editor of the “Honolulu Star-Advertiser,” December 28, 2012
