Update.

I'm going to post this despite the fact that it is not finished. I was very anxious about finishing it today and posting it, but I am tremendously hungover because some friends of mine are moving to France and we went to a bar to celebrate. Was it France? I don't remember where exactly they're moving to, but it's someplace filled with Enemies. Of Democracy. Someplace in Europe.

Anyway, I was very excited about posting this. And though I could not possibly do anything creative in my condition, I feel like I should still be able to fulfil one half of my plan to Finish and Post.

I sat through an hour long buisness presentation at work yesterday and this is basically how it went:

More or Less What I Heard At The Annual Company Update

You know what? I've changed my mind. I'm not posting it. No half assing in 2008! You'll have to wait for my transcription of what it's like to sit through such a meeting. Do you like figures? Buisness speak? Misspelling? Then you'll love this.

Shouldn't I just erase this and forget the whole thing and make a real post when I finish the thing? No. Fuck you.

In the meantime, to tide you over, check out the links at right.

One is my brother's photography. My brother is talented and one time when I was eight and affraid of ghosts, he rigged up our bedroom so that when I walked in things would fall on me, then, when I opened the closet door, had connected a wire from the door handle, to the sleeve of one of my shirts, which he had bobby-pinned a batting glove to so that when I opened the door it looked like a hand was reaching out to grab me.

The second is the aforementioned Enemy To Democracy, Ammon, who actually moved to Cambridge, England with his lovely wife Anne, so that she could study the feet of things that have sticky feet. He is a very good writer and has a book that you should buy from him. He has never pulled any ghost related pranks on me.

The third is Andrew McGowan. Andy has also never tried to convince me that my house was haunted but one time the lights when out in his house when we were drunk and about five of us sang "Home on The Range" for two hours.

Construction on The Sphinx

“But Dad!”
“No But! My father was a nose man, his father was a nose man, damn it I’m a nose man, and so help me Ra you’ll be a nose man.”
“But Dad!”

Sacrifice.

The first part is something I wanted to write the second part, which I’ll indicate by saying “SECOND PART”, is something that came along in my boredom at the bar last night.
It’s called ….

Sacrifice

“Don’t be nervous, you’re going to be fine”
“I’m not nervous.”
“It’s ok to be nervous.”
“I’m not nervous, where’s my knife?”
“Over on the parchment where you left it.”
“Goddamn it!”
“What?”
“Did you touch this?”
“No.”
“You did! You got finger prints all over!”
“I haven’t touched it!”
“Well how’d finger prints get all over?”
“I don’t know! Would you calm down, it’s going to be fine.”
“I’m. Not. Nervous.”
“Well anxious then, just calm down, you’re burning a hole3 in the floor.”
“Ok, it’s just that if the dark lord – would you come through nine levels of hell for a dirty dagger?”
“It’s going to be a mess anyway, Alex. There’s going to be blood and sulfur everywhere.”
“That’s not the point, Rose!”
“I’m just trying to help!”
“I know, it’s -- just – just don’t. “
“Fine!“
“Oh, Satan. Don’t cry. I didn’t mean it.”
“Yes you did. You did.”
“No, I didn’t, it’s just that the whole gang is going to be here and I’ve never summoned anything before.”
“But. You said. In college...”
“I made it rain once, it was a phase.”
“Oh.”
“Will you please come out of the sarcophagus if I promise to behave? We’ve only got two hours and the altar isn’t dusted.”

(Looking back through, this whole thing is a lot more similar to Gothic Love than I wanted it to be. Wanted it to be about stage fright more than anything else. Didn't quite turn out that way. I will edit.)

SECOND PART

C’mon Alex, don’t be nervous. Irrational. Don’t be irrational. You’re going to be fine. Remember the tapes. “You are the authority. You are in control. You are the authority. You are in control. Deeeeeep Breath. And. Exhale. Shake it up. Shake! Shake out those nerves. Here we go. Shake ‘um!” What is taking her so long, that passage is only three pages. C’mon Rose. Everybody knows you went to Emerson for Drama. Lets hurry it up before you lose the crowd. Oh, shit. Shit. Did I close the vents? That’ll ruin the smoke! You dumb fuck what are you doing? This is so over your head. There still time to ditch, there’s still time to ditch there’s still time to

“ – Von Darksome!” Shake it!

“Ahem, uh-huh, ahem.

Welcome everyone. WE gather here tonight to AHEM. Ahhhh hmmmmm! Excuse me. No, no, I’m fine. Something is just, HumMHMMF. Tea. Tea! Rose! Pst. Rose! Tea! HemmmmHEM!

OH. Oh. Hm. Hmmmmmmm. Sip. Hmmmmm. Ok. I’m so sorry. Ahem. Phew.

So. I’m Garrulous Von Darksome. Hi. Hello. You have gathered here this evening to -- Satan’s Horns! Bill, C’mon. C’mon Bill. Cell phone? Kill the cell phone, bill. The dark lord is – Yeah, there you go. I don’t care. Shut up.

We are gathered here today to welcome the end of days. To ride horses to the center of the earth. To destroy from within and we do so with Kamarak the Defiler. We will now spill the blood of our enemies. Bring out Jerry!

“Minions, this is Jerry”
“Hail Jerry!”
“Jerry, minions.”
“Mmmpph!”
“Minions, please honor Jerry.”
“Hail Jerry!”
“We honor you for your blood, Jerry. I hope those shackles aren’t too tight. ‘I was sacrificed for the dark lord and boy are my arms tired’ eh minions, right, because the shack -- PREPARE TO DIE JERRY!”
“Hail Jerry!”
“Now the drums! Now! (The red button. The red button and then the drum button.) NOW! The drums! Yes! We use Jerry’s blood and this ancient parchment to summon the evil one from his nest below us. Goodbye Jerry.”
“Hail Jerry.”
“Jerry of Vista Drive”
“Hail!”
“Jerry of Winnebago in front of Bill’s house for almost ever.”
“Hail!”“Jerry of encroaching Elm root structure!”
“Hail!”
“Jerry of far too local Herbal Life sales route!”
“Hail!”
“Hail Jerry!”
“Hail Jerry!”
“Hail Jerry!”
“MMMMPH!”
“Now the Knife! Now the Parchment! Ready the scotch guard! Haillllll JERRRY!”
“Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho!”


Dear Karanak,

We urgently request the pleasure of your company at 347 Diston Avenue. We honor you with the blood and death of Jerry Malone, Local Dickhead. Please come soon so that we may end the planet.
We’ll be in the basement, the lights will be off, but we’re here.

Your faithful Servant,

Garrulous Von Darksome.

Update

The post below has not been forgotten. I've been sick for the last week and a half. There will be writings up soon. I've got a few brewing. I'm writing this entry more for me than for you.