“Damien always said he was into the occult, just used to always denied being a devil worshiper, always said he knew who did it, he knew, he told me at one time, that he knew of a uh, of a book here in West Memphis called the Necronomicon. I think it is, and he didn't mean the one you could buy off the shelf this was a old one, uh that had been passed down for generations so what he was telling me was that he thought he was saying there was a generational Satanist here in town.” -- Jerry Driver


#WM3 #Irony #Lovecraft #WMPDcase #Metafiction

Thursday, March 21, 2019

Placebo - 36 Degrees (Live at Rock Werchter 2006)


I see light
And it hurts
As silver turns to blue
Waxing with the candlelight
And burning just for you
Allocate your sentiment
Stick it in a box
I've never been this paranoid
But I'm still breathing

Someone tried to do me ache
Someone tried to do me ache
Someone tried to do me ache (it's what I'm afraid of)
Someone tried to do me ache (it's what I'm afraid of)

And these eyes
Are born blind
Lost without a clue
Thought I was getting carat gold
And all I got was you
Stuck inside the circumstance
A healthy dose of luck
I've always been an introvert
As a kid I was beaten

Someone tried to do me ache
Someone tried to do me ache
Someone tried to do me ache (it's what I'm afraid of)
Someone tried to do me ache (it's what I'm afraid of)

4 7 2 3 9 8 5
I've gotta breathe to stay alive
And 1 4 2 9 7 8
Feels like I'm gonna suffocate
14 16 22
The skin that turns to blister blue

Shoulders toes and knees
I'm 36 degrees
Shoulders toes and knees
I'm 36 degrees
Shoulders toes and knees
I'm 36 degrees
Shoulders toes and knees
I'm 36 degrees  --Placebo, from their debut album, Placebo.

Sunday, March 17, 2019

Feminist Mantra

“A woman may crave to be near water, or be belly down, her face in the earth, smelling the wild smell. She might have to drive into the wind. She may have to plant something, pull things out of the ground or put them into the ground. She may have to knead and bake, rapt in dough up to her elbows. She may have to trek into the hills, leaping from rock to rock trying out her voice against the mountain. She may need hours of starry nights where the stars are like face powder spilt on a black marble floor. She may feel she will die if she doesn’t dance naked in a thunderstorm, sit in perfect silence, return home ink-stained, paint-stained, tear-stained, moon-stained.”
Clarissa Pinkola Estes