Flattery.

Trent Reznor's released a new cd. It's quality, but check out the first few seconds of these. The similarities have me a little freaked.

Rhapsody Playlist

Can someone scratch my nose?

Twice now, this week past, I've been interrupted mid-sentence with a jeepers-lookit-the-time. I feel compelled to say that both conversations involved a rather strident, rather one-sided rant involving Children of Hurin. Possibly the phrase "forged by a dark elf" was used. Considering the verbal liscense I've given myself regarding the book, and the inevitable fallout, who can tell? But it seems I am that guy.

I'll post this pic and have done. It's Hurin and it breaks my heart. Excuse the smudges.

"There he was bound by the power of Morgoth; and Morgoth standing beside him cursed him again and set his power upon him, so that he could not move from that place, nor die, until Morgoth should release him."

For years. Years. Through the murder and betrayal and strife and that pesky moustache hair.

Steam and Beeswax.

Found this on SteamJournal's Year 2000 Predictions moments after coming across this.

I think he just said "Fucking awesome".

Hurry up, already.

Last of the 12DP for now. Unless I'm wrong in assuming that everyone knows the story. In which case, I'm bound to keep posting obscurities.

And who doesn't like cabbage?

Tried compiling a list of excuses intended to leave me blameless for the objectionable anemia of ^this^ piece. Far-fetched ones involving eyesight and invisible cloaks. Reasonable ones dealing with desert venues and the effects of sunbleaching. In the end, I was left only with the weighty evidence of Artistic Deficiency.

That being said, there are a few lessons to be learned. One being: "Pick up the Magenta every once in a while"--will do you good. Another: "Five more minutes spent on bricks is always well advised". And a third: "Never, ever spurn the services of a roadside crone." They may smell like last week's golumpki, but those witches routinely roll the supersecretdownfalls of all royalty into every dirty shirtsleeve, every crusty sock.

So far, so good.

A collection finally approaching respectability.

Add an extra for the pot.

Release date: April 17

"Therefore with my eyes thou shalt see, and with my ears thou shalt hear; and never shalt thou move from this place until all is fullfilled unto its bitter end."

Of The Fifth Battle

Conveniently timed to divert tormented souls from the temptations of Shadows of Angmar--which I dare not even link to.

One of Twelve.

Don't drink it, sister.

Eleven and a half dancing princesses.

We were coming from dark and headed towards dark and our eyes adjusted quickly, but you could still get lost in those tunnels. Carved by dragons was the rumor, and, overwhelmed by the blackness and the stench of sulfur, it was hard not to believe. I'd heard them called wyrmholes by those who lived before us and those who would come after, for sometimes we'd cross paths in those places that wound beneath time. Greeks smelling of blood and honey, eyes full of ghosts and hands dripping from sacrifice. A party of feathered, dreaming Celts. Groups of fearful men and women sucking in air from behind glass helmets. Endless chains of dwarves. It was easy to stand and stare. Easier still to lose the thread of your own tale, and I'd seen evidence. The trick was to cling to yourself--to any goal or deed or triviality. To a half-eaten dinner or your thin-soled shoes, to the men waiting in boats at the end of the trail or the man you left for dead in your bedroom. And with them needle your way downwards or outwards or wherever you chose.

Z's.

Not dead, but sleeping with one eye open.

Old fossil.

Cast your vote.

Luke in the sun(s)set is my personal fave.

Funny as heck.

Heh.

Ages 18 and Up.

Keeping myself honest by posting the shit. By the end of this one I was harrumphing and grimacing and (quite literally) cutting a few corners. I've also been suffering from a specific paranoia. After receiving an offhand remark regarding my satyr pics and (perceived) sex organs, I've been seeing...things in recent works. Lounging on the rocks, skirting the treelines, shaping themselves into suspicious clouds. Precautions have been taken, but I've considered instituting a game of Find the Phalli for all subsequent pieces. Pretty redundant when applied to fauns, but Fun & Exciting when one pops up in the alpine meadow below Snow White's castle.