Khloros Phyllo retweeted
Iridium, the 77th element and one of the rarest, was named for Iris, the Greek goddess of the rainbow.
The metal’s discoverer Smithson Tennant got the name “from the striking variety of colours which it gives while dissolving in marine acid”. The metal and its sister osmium were ble residue from the purification of platinum.
A thin layer of iridium-rich clay at the geological boundary between the Cretaceous and Paleogene periods may have come from the asteroid strike believed to have killed off the dinosaurs.
Like other platinum group metals, iridium is hard and highly resistant to corrosion and finds use in catalysts, crucibles for gemstone synthesis, and long-lasting aircraft parts.
The accompanying painting is a detail of Morpheus and Iris by Pierre-Narcisse Guerin from 1811. Note the faint rainbow in the upper right.
The metal’s discoverer Smithson Tennant got the name “from the striking variety of colours which it gives while dissolving in marine acid”. The metal and its sister osmium were ble residue from the purification of platinum.
A thin layer of iridium-rich clay at the geological boundary between the Cretaceous and Paleogene periods may have come from the asteroid strike believed to have killed off the dinosaurs.
Like other platinum group metals, iridium is hard and highly resistant to corrosion and finds use in catalysts, crucibles for gemstone synthesis, and long-lasting aircraft parts.
The accompanying painting is a detail of Morpheus and Iris by Pierre-Narcisse Guerin from 1811. Note the faint rainbow in the upper right.
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Khloros Phyllo retweeted
America was supposed to be Art Deco.
The lobby of 450 Sutter Street, San Francisco, opened in 1929. We don't appreciate this architecture enough.
The lobby of 450 Sutter Street, San Francisco, opened in 1929. We don't appreciate this architecture enough.
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Khloros Phyllo retweeted
Beware the Beautiful Witch, 1913,
by Power O'Malley (Irish, 1870-1946).
by Power O'Malley (Irish, 1870-1946).
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Khloros Phyllo retweeted
Removing AI from your feed with 4 of my illustrations
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Khloros Phyllo retweeted
Died on this day, October 29, 1928:
Gastón Bussière (French)
Gastón Bussière (French)
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Khloros Phyllo retweeted
Time has erased almost everything about these 2 Viking Age men except this one message which has survived 1000 years
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.
All of Earth’s water fits in a sphere with a diameter of just 1,385 km
Earth’s diameter is about 12,742 km
Even all the rivers on the planet would fit in a tiny 16 km sphere.
We live on a blue planet, but the amount of water is surprisingly small compared with the size of @USGS
All of Earth’s water fits in a sphere with a diameter of just 1,385 km
Earth’s diameter is about 12,742 km
Even all the rivers on the planet would fit in a tiny 16 km sphere.
We live on a blue planet, but the amount of water is surprisingly small compared with the size of @USGS
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Khloros Phyllo retweeted
Inga Moore's heartwarming illustrations for The Wind in the Willows
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Khloros Phyllo retweeted
Portrait of Elisabeth of Austria, 1573, by Jooris van der Straaten (Flemish, 1552-1577).
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Khloros Phyllo retweeted
On the night of October 27, 1966, families across the country settled in front of their television sets for something new. CBS aired the premiere of It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, a half-hour animated special that gently mixed the familiar Peanuts gang with the quiet . Children who had grown up reading the comic strip now watched those same characters come to life in soft colors and simple lines, while parents recognized the same gentle humor they had known for years. The evening marked the start of a tradition that would return every autumn for decades to come.
The special was the third Peanuts program brought to television and the second one built around a holiday, following the success of the Christmas show the year before.
Charles M. Schulz wrote the story, drawing on the characters he had created, while producer Lee Mendelson and animator Bill Melendez turned the idea into moving pictures. They kept the voices of the children, letting young actors speak the lines in natural, unpolished tones. Vince Guaraldi's light jazz piano and quiet melodies gave the whole piece a warm, unhurried feeling that matched the falling leaves and early darkness of late October.
The story itself feels like a childhood memory told in pictures. Linus sits patiently in a pumpkin patch, certain that the Great Pumpkin will appear and bring gifts to the most sincere believer. Charlie Brown, dressed in his ghost costume with too many eyeholes, trudges from door to door only to receive rocks instead of candy. Snoopy imagines himself a daring pilot soaring above the neighborhood, while Lucy organizes a party and Sally frets about missing out on treats. Nothing grand or frightening happens; the humor stays soft, the disappointments are small, and the friendships remain steady. Many people still remember watching it as children, the blue glow of the screen reflecting on living-room walls while candy waited nearby.
That first broadcast drew a large audience and quickly settled into the yearly rhythm of fall. Year after year the same scenes returned: the hopeful wait in the patch, the clatter of rocks in a bag, the silhouette of a beagle against the moon. The special never tried to scare or overwhelm; it simply offered a quiet, familiar hour that felt like stepping back into an earlier time. Even now, when the leaves turn and the nights grow longer, the memory of that October evening in 1966 still carries the same gentle promise of imagination, patience, and the simple pleasure of watching old
friends once more.
The special was the third Peanuts program brought to television and the second one built around a holiday, following the success of the Christmas show the year before.
Charles M. Schulz wrote the story, drawing on the characters he had created, while producer Lee Mendelson and animator Bill Melendez turned the idea into moving pictures. They kept the voices of the children, letting young actors speak the lines in natural, unpolished tones. Vince Guaraldi's light jazz piano and quiet melodies gave the whole piece a warm, unhurried feeling that matched the falling leaves and early darkness of late October.
The story itself feels like a childhood memory told in pictures. Linus sits patiently in a pumpkin patch, certain that the Great Pumpkin will appear and bring gifts to the most sincere believer. Charlie Brown, dressed in his ghost costume with too many eyeholes, trudges from door to door only to receive rocks instead of candy. Snoopy imagines himself a daring pilot soaring above the neighborhood, while Lucy organizes a party and Sally frets about missing out on treats. Nothing grand or frightening happens; the humor stays soft, the disappointments are small, and the friendships remain steady. Many people still remember watching it as children, the blue glow of the screen reflecting on living-room walls while candy waited nearby.
That first broadcast drew a large audience and quickly settled into the yearly rhythm of fall. Year after year the same scenes returned: the hopeful wait in the patch, the clatter of rocks in a bag, the silhouette of a beagle against the moon. The special never tried to scare or overwhelm; it simply offered a quiet, familiar hour that felt like stepping back into an earlier time. Even now, when the leaves turn and the nights grow longer, the memory of that October evening in 1966 still carries the same gentle promise of imagination, patience, and the simple pleasure of watching old
friends once more.
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