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I'll eat a lot
The Three Fuckheads have been hard at work in this timeline. As foreseen! Werewolves included!
Things come together
Oct. 25th, 2016 08:32 pmAccording to the Laws of Manu, a furniture thief will be reborn as a wasp.
Re the Wasp Prince, is a throne aught but furniture?
Re the Wasp Prince, is a throne aught but furniture?
Blinding purity
Oct. 27th, 2015 01:35 pmI read Runaway Horses last month.
This article about ISIS notes nothing not already presented there.
I'm too old for Isao's loser fanatic shit, but I do wish I knew for sure how to defuse a youth like him. Other than time's own disenchantments. Suicidal fanaticism knows its fight is, above all, against Time.
At least now I understand why someone wrote "Ghastly & unfilial" beside the character's name in a Mishima biography I leafed through at the used book shop.
This article about ISIS notes nothing not already presented there.
I'm too old for Isao's loser fanatic shit, but I do wish I knew for sure how to defuse a youth like him. Other than time's own disenchantments. Suicidal fanaticism knows its fight is, above all, against Time.
At least now I understand why someone wrote "Ghastly & unfilial" beside the character's name in a Mishima biography I leafed through at the used book shop.
Faces of Met-Hesed
Aug. 25th, 2015 12:42 pmToday I shaved my face for the first time in two years. Going from the "Taliban captive" style to an interpretation of a Guy Fawkes trollfacial hair, at least for the next couple of days, before likely going back to complete neatness.
Last week I had a limerent dream for the first time since 2011. Even within the narrative of that secondary creation it felt archaic, nearly atavistic, a pagan antiquity (its vital meaning long reneged upon) to smuggle drugs within. Even the thick sweetness of longing had become somehow humorous and inappropriate, like children's chocolate milk.
My fingers trace ghost strands of wisdom. There is a place of leaves from red through orange to yellow, like the towers of Borges's Emperor; where I'll never be -- not once? not again? It will never be given to me to know which. But Loss is a faithful ship; it will bear me on regardless.
Last week I had a limerent dream for the first time since 2011. Even within the narrative of that secondary creation it felt archaic, nearly atavistic, a pagan antiquity (its vital meaning long reneged upon) to smuggle drugs within. Even the thick sweetness of longing had become somehow humorous and inappropriate, like children's chocolate milk.
My fingers trace ghost strands of wisdom. There is a place of leaves from red through orange to yellow, like the towers of Borges's Emperor; where I'll never be -- not once? not again? It will never be given to me to know which. But Loss is a faithful ship; it will bear me on regardless.
Qegsudulo Ubotarin grew unable to leave himself as his youth departed
possessed by fear, left behind by the moral arc of the universe
he drew a plotting graph of every explosion caused by the Harrier of Impossibility
(the Lyre of Holocaust, He Who Makes the Sun Weep)
in the execution of his labours: twelve for love, twelve for loss;
and the graph tracked that spring, -- He could feel the man under his fingertips, the man behind the scarf
maybe tracing back to the child so deep deep underneath
(Child of the Black Knight, child of Charon, child of the Black Wizard)
deep and drowned like the monster of fable, the Lad in Nook,
yearning for warmth and thus the fire, the FIRE,
the whole Church, of fire.
Gsu understood. Not for justice. But he would oppose. Gsu was redeemed.
possessed by fear, left behind by the moral arc of the universe
he drew a plotting graph of every explosion caused by the Harrier of Impossibility
(the Lyre of Holocaust, He Who Makes the Sun Weep)
in the execution of his labours: twelve for love, twelve for loss;
and the graph tracked that spring, --
("Her eyelids on her eyes like flower on flower,")
-- across the harvest.
maybe tracing back to the child so deep deep underneath
(Child of the Black Knight, child of Charon, child of the Black Wizard)
deep and drowned like the monster of fable, the Lad in Nook,
yearning for warmth and thus the fire, the FIRE,
the whole Church, of fire.
Gsu understood. Not for justice. But he would oppose. Gsu was redeemed.
Fascinating:
www.nybooks.com/articles/archives/2015/aug/13/mystery-isis/
I suspect they'll have run out of momentum and collapsed before the end of the year, but it's a wild guess sprinkled with wishful thinking.
These writing tablets that he had left behind spoke of the feng and shan sacrifices, and they were presented to Suo Zhong.
www.nybooks.com/articles/archives/2015/aug/13/mystery-isis/
I suspect they'll have run out of momentum and collapsed before the end of the year, but it's a wild guess sprinkled with wishful thinking.
These writing tablets that he had left behind spoke of the feng and shan sacrifices, and they were presented to Suo Zhong.
Gamifying the butt
Jun. 13th, 2015 10:28 pmSo I picked up the notes for Lichen & Harrier again (continent of Proteus and St. Egbert City) and it struck me that it's a scary good alternate setting for an Exalted game. ADONs recruited into the Order of the Dragon are evidently the dragon-blooded, and other correlations are almost self-evident for ADONs who unfold via Mithraic Mysteries (solar exalts), Smoking Mirror Mysteries (lunars), Ruist Mysteries/School of the Hidden Heaven (sidereal), and Mysteries of Full-Poison (abyssal). I'm not sure whether the Order of the Scorpion equates too well to the Alchemicals, and where the Order of Wepwawet fits, but the power levels are altogether fitting, assuming modern setting alternate rules from Shards of the Exalted Dream.
Now I have to run this game. Only you can make the world survive the first year of Larry Nobunaga's presidency!
Now I have to run this game. Only you can make the world survive the first year of Larry Nobunaga's presidency!
Notes for an NPC
Jun. 9th, 2015 01:22 pmPuttin' teh riot in teh griot
Dun' be jelly of teh jeli
All praise to things that live
Some praise to things that lived.
Dun' be jelly of teh jeli
All praise to things that live
Some praise to things that lived.
Magi.
Happy May Day
Black, broken, clear-winged, it moves into darkness
across the floor of the kitchen
by a tropism the culmination of a billion years.
I am reminded of the Angels;
like a man who does not want lizards and rodents
to dwell where he does dwell,
they were loath to share Creation with man.
Man in likeness and reminder
in his fear, in his rampancy, in his laziness
altogether divine
of the one They owed least love towards.
I sit in the kitchen
stabbed, deservedly, by the Angel of May.
Happy May Day
Black, broken, clear-winged, it moves into darkness
across the floor of the kitchen
by a tropism the culmination of a billion years.
I am reminded of the Angels;
like a man who does not want lizards and rodents
to dwell where he does dwell,
they were loath to share Creation with man.
Man in likeness and reminder
in his fear, in his rampancy, in his laziness
altogether divine
of the one They owed least love towards.
I sit in the kitchen
stabbed, deservedly, by the Angel of May.
Bringing old age, thou hast come, O unageing Dawn...
Unageing, thou dost make to age all else
Quick post to pass time
Apr. 14th, 2015 06:03 pmGoing to DM the D&D game in an hour. All but two characters will be new. Why? Because when you're told in advance the crew of the Sinister Albatross is composed entirely of liches, it should really be a clue that you're not supposed to fight your way through the encounter.
Summary on current events
Apr. 6th, 2015 12:25 pmReading: Crowley's The Solitudes. I hope to end the Aegypt and the Sea of Tranquility books this year. But I intend to go through Ishiguro's latest as soon as I'm done with this. Re Solitudes, feels a bit like trodden ground so far. Little, Big did more with less. But I'm only halfway through.
Politics: Still optimistically hopeless. Anarcho-papism v. amusing, attractive.
Creating: I wanted to have Children of All Birds done by the end of March, but I'm not even halfway through, to a moderate amount of angst. It's essentially a cycle of short stories with each chapter focusing on one member of Ardaster's family.
RPGs: D&D 5e mostly. Have a ton of funny stories and too the epic kind, like the one about the PC who was an unwitting incarnation of Tawuse-Melek who, regretting Creation, plotted with the Order of Wepwawet to bypass the Old Man of the Mountain's defenses in Shambhala and bring Full-Poison into the Terminus between the world and Faerie. Good times.
Watching:Everything's shit, can't recommend Old episodes of QI are fairly relaxing, actually.
Games: Playing a fair bit of HotS. Rather stupid, can't recommend. However, and I could probably make a whole post about this, it's been years since I've been as excited by an upcoming game as I am for That Which Sleeps, which I may have mentioned backing on KS.
You play as a Great Old One style entity bent on bringing madness and woe upon the world (you know it's fantasy when it's not left up entirely to Cheneys and the inherent flaws in all of us). There's an Yog-Sothoth-like counter-swirl in the wave of Creation who just rages against everything being, there's a petropunk global-warming-as-immanentized-hell mass of inimical filth (whose name is kinda inappropriate), there's seductively beautiful, luminous, alien, magnificent evil.
Instead of direct agency you'll use proxies and agents to steer detailed nations and societies into poverty, strife and chaos. There're awesome war lady, an undead hitler guy, and god look at her clothes.
Meanwhile heroes, sages, guildmasters and leaders will be doing their stuff, initially aimlessly but eventually noticing a pattern to the perilous events and perhaps uniting to stop you. (For my Kickstarter easter egg, you'll be able to look for Sev as an elvish sage with the Dreamer trait in the Empire of Twilight scenario.) More likely, they'll be made to murder one another in the name of false gods and abhorrent political practices, for the greatest and most final suffering of all races awakened to sin. Death, death to the world.
So yeah, basically everything I ever wanted(,) in a game. ^,,,,^
Politics: Still optimistically hopeless. Anarcho-papism v. amusing, attractive.
Reconstructed in these terms, xenophobic, repressive, financial and neoliberal forces cease even to be the targets of a concerted attack, transformed instead into unhygienic elements to be cleaned away. How could it be otherwise, if ‘we’ – the unemployed, the working poor, the prisoners, the illegal aliens, the single mothers – are the forces of Love? Necessarily our enemies must be the agents of Hatred and Destruction. No longer will leftists be forced into the awkward position of answering whether sinking migrant boats and privatising public healthcare is ‘good for the economy’ or ‘bad for the economy’: finally, they will be able to simply rail against the ‘abomination’, the ‘bestiality’, and ultimately the ‘Satanism’ of their opponents.
Creating: I wanted to have Children of All Birds done by the end of March, but I'm not even halfway through, to a moderate amount of angst. It's essentially a cycle of short stories with each chapter focusing on one member of Ardaster's family.
RPGs: D&D 5e mostly. Have a ton of funny stories and too the epic kind, like the one about the PC who was an unwitting incarnation of Tawuse-Melek who, regretting Creation, plotted with the Order of Wepwawet to bypass the Old Man of the Mountain's defenses in Shambhala and bring Full-Poison into the Terminus between the world and Faerie. Good times.
Watching:
Games: Playing a fair bit of HotS. Rather stupid, can't recommend. However, and I could probably make a whole post about this, it's been years since I've been as excited by an upcoming game as I am for That Which Sleeps, which I may have mentioned backing on KS.
You play as a Great Old One style entity bent on bringing madness and woe upon the world (you know it's fantasy when it's not left up entirely to Cheneys and the inherent flaws in all of us). There's an Yog-Sothoth-like counter-swirl in the wave of Creation who just rages against everything being, there's a petropunk global-warming-as-immanentized-hell mass of inimical filth (whose name is kinda inappropriate), there's seductively beautiful, luminous, alien, magnificent evil.
Instead of direct agency you'll use proxies and agents to steer detailed nations and societies into poverty, strife and chaos. There're awesome war lady, an undead hitler guy, and god look at her clothes.
Meanwhile heroes, sages, guildmasters and leaders will be doing their stuff, initially aimlessly but eventually noticing a pattern to the perilous events and perhaps uniting to stop you. (For my Kickstarter easter egg, you'll be able to look for Sev as an elvish sage with the Dreamer trait in the Empire of Twilight scenario.) More likely, they'll be made to murder one another in the name of false gods and abhorrent political practices, for the greatest and most final suffering of all races awakened to sin. Death, death to the world.
So yeah, basically everything I ever wanted(,) in a game. ^,,,,^
Oh the children
Mar. 13th, 2015 03:03 amSo this kid explained to me coffee was liquid ant, which is why it's so good and makes you less tired.
#remindersofmatt
#remindersofmatt
Teen as in grief
Feb. 2nd, 2015 10:10 pmdescribe 2 people marooned together and their relationship after 5 days, 5 months and 5 years, in 300 words.
John1 was a lawman. John2 was a man of law. Before they set out to the stars, John1 had said,
John1 was a lawman. John2 was a man of law. Before they set out to the stars, John1 had said,
Day smiteth day in twain, night sundereth night,
And on mine eyes the dark sits as the light;
Yea, Lord, thou knowest I know not, having sinned,
If heaven be clean or unclean in thy sight.
A crash, and they were stranded.
After five days, John1 was afraid of the bioluminescent apes. John2 was performing intercourse with them. The remains of the ship biodegraded fast enough to drip-drip-drip like a sink in an empty home; they listened to it together.
After five months, John2 called John1 brother for the first time. John1 had a marionette of syringes and discarded plutonium shells; their mother. They knew each other's every thought, but for the waking ones.
After five years, John was one with the faerie fire of the wetlands, and John was the John. The John's song could rouse the ice-blooded old things in the marsh from their death; the fire would then play its colors upon their feathers, and such was the gladness and success of their mission.
A crash, and they were stranded.
After five days, John1 was afraid of the bioluminescent apes. John2 was performing intercourse with them. The remains of the ship biodegraded fast enough to drip-drip-drip like a sink in an empty home; they listened to it together.
After five months, John2 called John1 brother for the first time. John1 had a marionette of syringes and discarded plutonium shells; their mother. They knew each other's every thought, but for the waking ones.
After five years, John was one with the faerie fire of the wetlands, and John was the John. The John's song could rouse the ice-blooded old things in the marsh from their death; the fire would then play its colors upon their feathers, and such was the gladness and success of their mission.
2014 in retrospective
Dec. 31st, 2014 11:43 amFrom all our lovers that love us
Thou God didst sunder us;
Thou madest darkness above us,
And thick darkness under us;
This is 100% about football.
In our sorrow we said to the night,
Fall down and cover us;
To the darkness at left and at right,
Be thou shed over us;
We had breaking of spirit to mother
And cursing to bride;
And one was slain, and another
Stood up at our side.
We could not arise by day,
Nor lie down by night;
Thy sword was sharp in our way,
Thy word in our sight;
The delight of our eyelids was made
As the burning of fire;
And our souls became sorely afraid
For our soul's desire.
This is 100% about football.
