And all is well. Blessed be, Me (and possibly you) this Samhain (I'm not Irish but in this case it sounds better albeit less intelligible than Swedish; though more annoyingly associated with White-Light Wiccans these days and less ancient CeltoDruidic Gorseddic Orderian types) and if you're nice; maybe the next one too. | Sorry, run on sentence. That's just how I write, get used to it. Insert cliched line about the 'seasons changing' while the lesser Hells seem to be breaking loose and unfurling across this planet (pretty much the normal state of affairs) yet the world is -in the words of Christopher Miller beginning to 'ring like crystal,' for me, anyway. Just that time of year.
Time for a lot of things. But never a time to be cruel to cats (or rabbits, they're just as cute and twice as anti-social) or your wife (husband, parent, child, neighbor, stranger, sexualfavoraskeraslongasthey'renottoodemanding, amphibious landing craft occupant, extraterrestrial biological entity, Goetic, Liber231 or Enochian extra-dimensional Aeytheric being) for that matter. But especially not to the black cat.
It was about 80 years ago when Bela Lugosi, Borris Karloff and very little Edgar Allan Awesomeness by way of Carl Laemmle's presentation and Edgar G. Ulmer's direction, combined for a splendid occasion which resulted in a short work of what I call "art-decOrror."
One that was a split-stache less of Vincent Price, and a few Hail Satans short of a masturbationpiece of not-horror! (Am I really supposed to get scared watching this? Don't get me wrong it's good, but I've never seen a horror film that 'horrified' me. As a matter of fact, a particular nausea inducing drama film might have beaten every horror, action, or torture porn film ever produced in terms of my baser more volatile reactions. That film for the time being shall go unnamed. But in the mean time) enjoy this one.
The.Black.Cat.1934 part 1 by superannuatedlps
Granted, it seems to have little to do with the the titular story but that's how the text-to-film transition handles the affair. After they cunt out the bastardised child you're left wondering if the package precariously abandoned on your doorstep included any of your own biological material or did the stork get the address wrong. Same deal here.
It takes time to get into in spite of how short it is, and it's a shame about the lack of nudity was Veronica Lake alive at the time? She'd be great for this at least before she went insane; Anita Eckberg from 1950 could travel back to 1934 and make it happen. Somebody get me a goddamn time machine! that said, it's an enjoyable film nonetheless, and it would be a bit of a giant middle-finger if I didn't include part two,
The.Black.Cat.1934 part 2 by superannuatedlps
Also, sorry. No nudes on Lucille Lund or any lesbian scene. I waited the duration of the film and it didn't fappen.
But why then "the Black Cat?" Because everybody knows "the Raven." (Do I really need quotation marks if I'm going to Italicise it?) I like that one too, but it seems the most obvious -perhaps too obvious- and well known work by Poe (not referring to Danielewski but as a side note, I liked 2000's "Haunted" as it's among my metal-friendly non-metal or MFNM collection, and admittedly, I've been waiting more than 13 years for the new record to come out) hence there are lesser known gems lost in the shuffle.
On a completely different and universally inconsequential note, two days ago I got a pirate costume that didn't look like one at first glance (I lacked the hook so it could have been Medieval anything) and a Transylvanian cloakcape I had lying around last year or the one before. I combined the two for something completely acceptable in terms of theatrics (a tad less vampiric, a bit more simplified goth, with a dash of Edmund Blackadder II, the sadistic snake in the not really Virgin Queens court.)
I'm not taking photos as I'm out of face-paint, but if I did, you'd see something totally incredible more like something we've seen beaten to death and eaten back to life by a billion black metal bands over the last decade. But I don't overdo the corpse-paint to the point we end up in zombie territory; I like minimalism. I could even pass for a renaissance performer: think baroque -ornate, intricate and all- but only a darkly Venus more morbid. But within respectable limits, as I hadn't summoned Glasyalabolas as the timing didn't feel right, plus I was too busy eating candy to mess with the triangle, unless I was compelled to share, which I'm wondering if I could do in the circle? But we'll discuss Thelemic pursuits (don't get me wrong, I'm all current 93 but 156 and 218 haven't dodged my attention; for those 'in the know' and 'don't know but want to know') in the future.
Question: I hear it's bad luck to have a black cat cross your path. By that logic, if you were to encounter a second ebonoir pussy, would it cancel out the first round of bad luck or amplify it? Or is that only when they cross you at the same time? More important, what happens if a black cat crosses another black kitty's path? A white cat? Blonde with blue eyes? Nordic Pussy? Off-white? Suntanned? Orange? Is it seven years of shoddy luck? What is the remedy? Can I 'wicker-man' said luck unto another scapegoat? Or scapecat? Or scaperat? How do I represent this algebraically? Tell me if you know. Superstition can be confusing but the possibilities are interesting and the Karmic repercussions fascinate me. You should care as not one but two black cats have crossed your digital path in the course of this article.
Not sure what I'm bitching about anymore.
lycklig Halloween.
~ Azzan ~
