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➜ Did people jump from the WTC towers on 9/11 because their rooms were on fire and they were about to be burned alive?


By: Catherine Beale, Quora

It was too hot.  

If you had been listening to the harrowing telephone messages left by the people who were trapped, with no way out, who made one last phone call to say goodbye — and no one answered — you would have heard them explain what they were about to do.
Some held hands with colleagues.  Some wrapped their arms around people they worked with, and they stepped together into the empty air.  Some went alone.  No one understood the fire.  No one understood why no one had come to save them. 
Their last words were unforgettable.  Their voices.  Their deep regret.  How calm some almost seemed.  One young guy left a message for his brother: I’m sorry we fought; I love you.
One left a message for his mother.  I love you, mom.  I’m sorry.
I don’t think anyone understood what was happening — a plane, an explosion, why they were left there, and could not be saved.  

Then for weeks, the recordings were played on the radio during New York City’s news coverage.
I had a friend who thought this public use of intimate, personal farewell messages was obscene.  I disagreed.  The tragedy of losing thousands of people so quickly in a single morning could be impersonally arms length, but for those voices.  
If desk phones weren’t working, they used cellphones.  The towers were built originally with helicopter landings.  Many had expected, of course, to be lifted off the roof.  There was no other way to get out.  Slowly, they began to realize it would soon be over.  They started to jump.  “I have to go,” said one, and hung up.
The towers hadn’t fallen yet.  No one knew that was going to happen.  This is why so many people died.

At the base, office workers from buildings on Broadway and Liberty and Chase Manhattan Plaza walked over and stood at the bottom and watched as people dropped in front of them.
I had a colleague named Tom whose young cousin worked in one tower.  He prayed she would appear, safe.  He walked over and stood next to a man who counted out loud each body as it hit the pavement.  26.  27.  28.  “It was so weird.”  She was never found.
For months, photos of the “Missing” were taped to walls by the people who loved them, all around Penn Station, on telephone poles, on the sides of buildings, lamp posts, pillars.  Every surface of New York was covered with these color xeroxes.  No one took them down.

Why did they jump?

There, on the roof, they waited as long as they could, until it was unbearably hot, and they simply could not stay there anymore.  They apologized for dying, said goodbye, and went.


Kosen こせん, sake flask in the form of an Akita dog 秋田犬, decorative arts, 1930s


Kosen こせん, sake flask in the form of an Akita dog 秋田, decorative arts, 1930s

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From a Japanese CC commercial

Rina Takeda

Studying karate since she was ten, Rina is black belt in Ryukyu Shorin-ryu Karate.

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"Looking at the youthful friends around me, I find that their cycle and rhythm of ‘birth, age, illness and death’ are moving several times faster than those of my generation," says auteur Hou Hsiao-hsien about his sexy and transfixing Millennium Mambo, a departure (read: more techno music) of sorts for a director known for less youthful pictures like The Flowers of Shanghai and The Puppetmaster. The film is an ethereal, opiate-induced chronicle of a young girl (a flower of Shanghai if you will) whose life is preciously unexamined. Vicki (Shu Qi) lives with her abusive disc jockey boyfriend Hao-Hao (Tuan Chung-Hao); when she finally leaves him, she befriends a mobster, Jack (Kao Jack), who doesn’t bring her any closer to joy. The film begins at the end, with a noticeably free Vicki walking down a footbridge before she disappears into the dark shadows of a staircase below. The camera stops—or, more accurately, it lets go. Very little happens in the film (hence the Hollywood Reporter’s frustration) because Hou’s subject is (once again) stasis. Just as the forward momentum of Hou’s images seemingly summons Vicki toward a life of transcendence, the girl’s elegiac voice-over (positioned 10 years in the future) suggests that she did persevere the ennui and doping of her young life. Some of the most beautiful passages in the film evoke the paralysis of modern living and the promise of change: Vicki leaves an imprint of her face on the snow and an 80-year-old grandmother yearns for another 20 years (so she can see how much the world around her has changed). The second-person perspective of Vicki’s voice-over ravishingly intensifies Hou’s fixation with the disconnect between our past and present lives—that inexplicable, instantaneous moment in time when we leave a ghostly self behind.

Millenium Mambo


Bobby Shmurda new song hard as hell

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"Heineken?! Fuck that shit! Pabst Blue Ribbon!"


does anybody know the source??? dying to know what is happening here lmao

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Thank you for the chocker


Thank you for the chocker



remember this show where this one dude had to guess what is he smelling and he put his nose into someones asshole and went “smells like ass” and the commentator went “correct” and this dude did the funniest expression ever. wheres that gif


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