Archive for June, 2011

Bat Country

Posted in Dr. Dippie with tags , , on June 30, 2011 by Gary M

or Is That An Underwire In My Teeth

or I Bit The Hair Of The Dog That Bit Me And Now We’re Both Rabid

or Even Ogres Will Blarney For Blowjobs

-=^<>^=-

I woke up to a screaming headache like cold-wrought iron bands wrapped around my skull, and the unwelcome sensation of my comrade, business partner, go-to guy, and ex-girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend slapping my face with an excess of vigor.  Seeing I was roused, he stopped, though the feeling of his palm impacting the dream-flesh of my cheek echoed back and forth through the next several seconds.  I opened my mouth to say Where the fuck are we and, sensing freedom close at hand, the contents of my stomach made a break for the exit.  Displaying uncommon good sense for his race and class, my Main Man in Wherever The Fuck This Is stepped aside from the oncoming coronal mass ejection.  When the throbbing convulsions had died down to a mere cement-mixer rumble, he made a show of studying the Pollockian spatterings on ceiling, walls, and floor.  “Pencil stub… a roach clip… six beer-bottle caps, all different brands… half a shot glass… a pair of panties….”  He rubbed his face, fatigue dripping from his frame like attitude from a boggart.  “I can’t take you anywhere, can I?”

I found my voice.  “Wha’ happen?”  There was light in the room, nova-bright, glancing off something tiny, shiny, and faceted: the scattered reflections sending fiery armor-piercing angel-swords in through my eyes and out through the back of my head.  I groaned, swished puke around my fine set of bronze teeth, and spat.

“Elvish booze, man.  You drank too much, way too much – you turn into a fuckin’ animal on that stuff.”  My friend – and I’ll use that term loosely here, right now no one was my friend except perhaps a quart of tomato juice, raw egg, firewater, and tabasco topped with a sprinkle of powdered unicorn horn – twitched the curtain open and peered out, which had the net effect of making the room brighter but in a tolerably diffuse fashion.  The décor was ‘shabby dorm’ with heaps of clothing, piles of papers, an overflowing desk upon which was perched a shiny laptop with a big bite taken out of the corner of the screen, tar-black crystalline goop in a trail down the inside.

“Oh fuck,” I said.  “Did I do that?”

He nodded solemnly, still peering out the window.  “Too right you did.  You were taking bets, man, why you had all that stuff in your stomach.  I was worried you were gonna blow our cover, so I took a blotter from your bag of tricks and put it in the punch.”

I was too wasted to be angry about this flagrant theft of my personal property.  “Now what,” I croaked, and levered myself to my feet, pleased to note I still had my boots on.  Love those boots – big lug-soled vibram-cleated shitkicking motorcycle boots with screaming-skull toecaps in stainless silver.  Had those made up special by a weyland-smith in Vancouver.  Cramps walked up and down my back like hungry spiders, pausing to sink their fangs into especially tender spots.  Venom surged in my bladder.

“We gotta get outta here before she wakes up.”  He pointed to what I thought was a laundry pile: after a moment’s scrutiny I found an outflung arm, a bare thigh, a curl of coppery hair in the welter of clothing and sheets and Dana-knows-what.

“Waitaminnit,” I said, a sick, scary realization curling like a python around my brainstem.  “Are we in a girl’s room?”  Alarms of all kinds began to go off in my head.  “We gotta get the fuck out of here, man, don’t you remember?  I have a goddamn geas the size of Mount Olympus hanging over me!  If I spend a full day with a girl my fucking heart will explode!  What time is it?  It’s not noon, is it?”  My hands shook, and it took an effort of will to keep from diving out of the window into the screaming sunlight.

Enemy Mine pulled out his phone and poked at it.  “We’re cool,” he said.  “It’s only 11:45.”

The tension drained out of me like water from a flush toilet.  “Oh thank fuck, fifteen minutes is plenty of time.”  I looked around for strong drink, or failing that, raw flesh.  I had a powerful urge coming on.  “Is there any of that elven shit left?  My mouth tastes like a basilisk’s asshole.”

And then someone began to pound on the door.

Thujone Magic

Posted in Nature Studies, Pagan with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 29, 2011 by Drogo

Thujone is an active ingredient in Sage, Wormwood, Mugwort, Yarrow, Tansy, Oregano, Juniper, Cypress, Mint, and Arborvitae (genus Thuja). Thujone has a molecular shape similar to THC but is much milder. Thujone can build up in the body and there are reports of overdose convulsions, or insomnia after months. It does promote vivid dreams. As a GABA neuron regulator inhibitor in our nervous system, it has immune-system stimulating effects and as a 5-HT antagonist it may be used to treat irritable bowel syndrome. By causing neurons to fire more, it may have an inspirational effect. Mugwort pillows are supposed to bring pleasant dreams, perhaps from small airborne particles of thujone. Thujone has a fresh odor like menthol, with an acidic tea taste. Even though it is best known as a chemical compound in the spirit absinthe, recent tests show absinthe contains only small quantities of thujone, and may or may not be responsible for absinthe’s reported psychedelic effects.

CAUTION:

Those with allergy to pollen may have an allergic reaction; additionally there is some evidence that it somehow over-stimulates the uterus in pregnant women which can lead to abortion. Testing is not conclusive yet. Mugwort is completely FREE and LEGAL and not lethally toxic or poisonous (with possible exception of fetuses). But, to be safe, women should not use mugwort while pregnant.

Play Pen of Madness

Posted in Short Faerie's Tails on June 28, 2011 by Drogo

Poof! Out of darkness, came a dark play pen of madness.

John Brown Lives!

Posted in Book Reports, Fictional Stories, SCOD Fallout Projects with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 27, 2011 by Drogo

Jonn Brawn Lives! … All Fear The Undead Zombie Necromancer!

SEE the dead rise from their graves!

HEAR the howls of ghosts as they haunt you!

FEEL the cold grip of death as they come to cleanse the land!

* The Chronicles of Cleric Jonn Brawn are found within the series “Harpers Faerie Magic” by Walton Stowell published 2011. First written in 2003 as a D&D Module of Adventures.

Harpers Ferry Magic, Elemental Intro

Posted in Pagan with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 27, 2011 by Drogo

I.     Elements: of Nature, Existence, & Us

Elements specific to Harpers Ferry (listed in book)

 

Air        Gemini Mercury, Virgo Hephaestus, Libra Amore’ Harmony

East      Paralda, Aiet, Yellow Amarillo, Winds, Zephyr, Seraphim

East Rises the Sun between the 2 mountains, dawn drifting to DC

East Coast United States, Wake Up Flying, Good MorningWelcome!

 

Fire                Aries Mars, Leo Sol, Sagittarius Jupiter Yang Heart

South           Deas Energy Catalyst, Red Life Flame, Djinni, Tan Delta

Metal forged by fire was used in the First Federal Armory for Firepower!

Fighting brings Flux, John Brown’s Raid, and Civil War blood stained.

 

Water    Pisces Fish, Aquarius Well-Spring, Cancer Yin Moon

West      Aqua Iar, Blue Niksa, Liquid Waves, Poseidon Triton

Setting Sun over Charles Town Races, Pouring Gateway to WV!

River waters of the Potomac and Shenandoah float downstream to DC.

 

Earth         Taurus Mithra, Capricorn Saturn, Scorpio Pluto

North    Tuath Terra, Green Brown, Virdant Herne, Anubis Geo Ghob

Geology; Shale Limestone, Red Clay Soil, Black Silt Dirt, Sand & Mud!

Woods full of deciduous and evergreen trees, shrubs, and plants grow.

 

Spirit Synthesis of Place, Metal, and More

Geographic Geometric Triangles

 

Diagrams of the tri-state area, plan in relation to perspective view.

Energies converge here throughout time, conflicting and combining;

Flowing together and merging as the Potomac and Shenandoah…  

* excerpt from the 2006 book “Harpers Ferry Magic” by Drogo Empedocles. Please document your reference if you share this post.

 

Conspiracy Theories vs. Non-Conspiracy Attitude and the Trend of ‘Myth-Busting’

Posted in Critical Commentary of Civilization with tags , , , , , on June 23, 2011 by Drogo

I think it is dangerous to dismiss conspiracy theories all as lies, because history has shown conspiracies have existed often despite the ignorance of the contemporary public. Of course not every theory is correct entirely, but that is not the purpose of theories. Theories present ideas that may be uncomfortable to the established “reality” of the times, but are very important to the “truth of reality upon investigation and reflection”. Without theories we do not truly question anything.

Non-Conspiracy Acceptance of only the mass-media acknowledged “reality” is annoying to me, just as theories that disturb their perception of reality are annoying to them. Not all theories are true, just as not every issue in history is a conspiracy. However, there were plenty of plots in history that were conspiracies, which simply means they were planned by individuals. Planning for things in “secret” happens all the time by the way, all you have to have is a private discussion and arrive at mutually agreed goals.

Damage to contemporary collective reality is not a bad thing, when there are problems that are later “discovered” or “uncovered”. Without theories scientists and journalists would never ask important questions and investigate issues that are later proven: American Conspiracy for Revolution, Nazi conspiracies to gain power and rule the World, Bay of Pigs, Gulf of Tonkin, Watergate, etc). Many scientists and journalists pursued ideas, despite lack of evidence and often overwhelming opinions to the contrary that would have caused less dedicated investigators to cease exploration.

I think most intelligent people are sensible and go through phases of interest and non-interest in trying to understand the depths of what is going on around us, and to discover what has gone on in the past, possibly without our knowing about it.

(written in response to Professional Journalists dismissing all conspiracy theories, and therefore not investigating them; and the popular reaction trend to disprove or ‘myth-bust’ all theories that have not been approved by mass media.)

Call of the Savage Beast!

Posted in Poems, Rhymes, Riddles with tags , , , , , , , on June 23, 2011 by Drogo

As I walk down the road, the Beast calls to me.

It makes noises of alarm that are harsh to the ear.

Constant threatening calls born of fear, anger, and violence.

As an animal, I have emotions, and am affected by other animals to various degrees, just as they are by me.

This day I have no desire to be affected by the Beast.

And yet it calls to me.

It does not use words as I am capable of, yet it calls.

The Beast uses a language of nature to curse me, insult me, and antagonize me.

Does it want me to engage it in some way? Anyway?

Or does the Beast just want me to go away?

I do not know, and do not want to care.

If I care it will distract me from my goal, my mission of getting from Point A to B.

The job of the Beast is to call to me.

My job is to ignore it and continue on my way, to better things.

The only sure way of resolving the damned situation is leave the area,

although I may still carry the mental anguish of a berated victim long afterwards.

Vocal goading is a form of threat and insult often called ‘battery’ by the law.

Wordless the Beast makes sounds whose meaning is unmistakable to logic.

Perhaps I could best it in a fight, but that would be a distraction as well.

There seems to be no reasoning, no answers, and no way to avoid this challenge.

I want to understand, to figure things out, to fix things, resolve problems.

Yet I must leave the Beast in its cage on the side of the road.

If it does not follow me I am safe.

I will not bring it with me.

That is suicide.

*

(poem about barking, snarling, and snapping dogs)