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[01-80] SUPERNATURAL (35 - 5x03 & 65 - 5x08)
TOTAL: 80 ICONS

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http://xkcd.com/662/

http://journal.neilgaiman.com/2009/11/very-sekrit-passphrase.html

"We think they should come over to the merch table and point to this poster...




...and say 'That chick in the yellow corset crowdsurfing looks kind of hot. I wonder if she's dating anyone?' And then they get something for free."

    What is revolution but a spark in the heart of man that spreads like wild fire? The cleansing burn of all that has withered and died, and of all that shields such waste from less drastic forms of renewal?

    There comes a critical point of emergence from the chaotic vortext of past and future when one comes alive in the burning present, with no choice but to become the living urges that will no longer slumber beneath the crust of the apathetic status quo. There is no intellectual awareness of this primal push. It is only in retrospect that one can appreciate the meaning and effect of the moment in which the world came alive. It is only while walking amongst the brave new sprouts rising from the ashes of a burnt forest, or on the hard black surface of what was once molten lava that one can say, "It is here we had a revolution."

    Sure, there is work to be done long after the fire cools, generations of growth needed in order to begin to comprehend the structure of a new world that revealed itself in a moment- a moment that is remembered and renamed as revolutionary.

http://journal.neilgaiman.com/2009/11/radio-books-violin-lessons-also-haircut.html

The Blue Room had in prehistoric times been added to by taking in a superfluous passage, and so not only had the advantage of two doors, but enabled us to get to the head of the stairs without passing the chamber wherein our dragon-aunt lay couched. It was rarely occupied, except when a casual uncle came down for the night. We entered in noiseless file, the room being plunged in darkness, except for a bright strip of moonlight on the floor, across which we must pass for our exit. On this our leading lady chose to pause, seizing the opportunity to study the hang of her new dressing-gown. Greatly satisfied thereat, she proceeded, after the feminine fashion, to peacock and to pose, pacing a minuet down the moonlit patch with an imaginary partner. This was too much for Edward's histrionic instincts, and after a moment's pause he drew his single-stick, and with flourishes meet for the occasion, strode onto the stage. A struggle ensued on approved lines, at the end of which Selina was stabbed slowly and with unction, and her corpse borne from the chamber by the ruthless cavalier. The rest of us rushed after in a clump, with capers and gesticulations of delight; the special charm of the performance lying in the necessity for its being carried out with the dumbest of dumb shows.

Once out on the dark landing, the noise of the storm without told us that we had exaggerated the necessity for silence; so, grasping the tails of each other's nightgowns even as Alpine climbers rope themselves together in perilous places, we fared stoutly down the staircase-moraine, and across the grim glacier of the hall, to where a faint glimmer from the half-open door of the drawing-room beckoned to us like friendly hostel-lights. Entering, we found that our thriftless seniors had left the sound red heart of a fire, easily coaxed into a cheerful blaze; and biscuits—a plateful—smiled at us in an encouraging sort of way, together with the halves of a lemon, already once squeezed but still suckable. The biscuits were righteously shared, the lemon segments passed from mouth to mouth; and as we squatted round the fire, its genial warmth consoling our unclad limbs, we realised that so many nocturnal perils had not been braved in vain.

"It's a funny thing," said Edward, as we chatted, "how I hate this room in the daytime. It always means having your face washed, and your hair brushed, and talking silly company talk. But to-night it's really quite jolly. Looks different, somehow."

"I never can make out," I said, "what people come here to tea for. They can have their own tea at home if they like,—they're not poor people,—with jam and things, and drink out of their saucer, and suck their fingers and enjoy themselves; but they come here from a long way off, and sit up straight with their feet off the bars of their chairs, and have one cup, and talk the same sort of stuff every time."

Selina sniffed disdainfully. "You don't know anything about it," she said. "In society you have to call on each other. It's the proper thing to do."

"Pooh! YOU'RE not in society," said Edward, politely; "and, what's more, you never will be."

"Yes, I shall, some day," retorted Selina; "but I shan't ask you to come and see me, so there!"

"Wouldn't come if you did," growled Edward.

http://www.asofterworld.com/index.php?id=499

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http://journal.neilgaiman.com/2009/11/murder-re-enacted.html

http://xkcd.com/661/