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- ††† sav0))) †††
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farewell my comrades,
the time has come for me to depart this decaying remnant of what used to be a fun filled social networking site,
it is a mere shadow of what it used to be and these days i merely post random comments displaying my rather dubious sense of humour, and reply to others in a lethargic tired manner,
as previous departees have stated - we have had good times, fun times and a majority of LOL inducing times, unfortunately these memories are insufficient to hold my attention anymore and it has in reality become a chore logging in,
i am glad to have met all who i have ever conversed, debated, argued or trolled with and am in a certain way proud to have been accepted into your lives, electronically or organically and would be pleased to meet any of you on a different platform, (details of which will follow).
maybe sometime down the line i may reappear as the drudgery of modern life forces me to seek solace on-line but as it stands bebo has lost it's appeal, truthfully - the alternatives are equally unappealing, (facebook, myspace) but i shall remain minimally active on them so as not to lose full contact with those who wish to continue parlance with myself.
so long bebo, it has been a blast.
deletion - 3 apr 2010
"Absence diminishes little passions and increases great ones, as the wind extinguishes candles and fans a fire." - Francois Duc de la Rochefoucauld
3 Comments 173 weeks
There are several fundamental principles to this:
* 1) Make everything look like NORSK. Also to a lesser extent DEUTSCH. For example don't say Black Metal when you can say DER Blækk Mettal
* 2) Add senseless adjectives: Why say" DER Blækk Mettal" when you can say" DER Norsk Arisk Blækk Mettal"?
* 3) As also seen in the previous example, there are several words, such as tru, grim, necro and fuck which have to be used as gratuitously as possible. Why say "DER Norsk Arisk Blækk Metta"l when you can say "DER Fucking Tru and Kvlt Grim Necro Norsk Arisk Blækk Mettal"?
* 4) It is very important that you do not utilise ordinary grammar and spelling. In DER BLAKK MEHTVL SPE4K, those are secondary, while DER GRYMMNEZ of DER SPEVK is fundamental. Never say "DER Norsk Arisk Blækk Mettal" when you can say "DER Fvkking Tr00 and Kvlt Grymm Nekro Norsk Arysk Blækk Mettal".
* 5) Practice! With time DER GRYMMFVLNEZZ ov your sentences will increase. Be creative, combine different grymmful words, replace random letters with "v"s or "Y"s, add random "R"s, capitalize random letters or change the order of words in a sentence.
* 6) In conclusion: Why say "DER Fucking Tr00 and Kvlt Grymm Nekro Norsk Arysk Blækk Mettal", when you can say "DER Fvkking Tr00 and Kvlt Grymm and Frostbitten Pure Unholy Hateful Raw Nekro Krieg Elitist æonic Br00tal Wrathful Hyperspeed Inverted Icecold Deutsch Norwegian Transylvanian Pagan Diabolikal Anti-Cosmic Orcish Wolfen Bestial Heretical Genocidal Suicidal Nihilistic Mysanthropik Blasphemic Apocalyptic Hellfired Nationalist-Socialist Antisemitick Holocaustic Panzerkrieg Dunkel Diabolikal Goat-Worshipping Fistfvkking Christraping Deathworshipping Skullfucking Thelemic Orthodox Germansk Hedensk Satanisk Hellnorsk Arysk Svarte Blækk Fvkking Goatpenis Mætalle OV DAATH"??????
3 Comments 198 weeks
I. The Book
The place was dark and dusty and half-lost
In tangles of old alleys near the quays,
Reeking of strange things brought in from the seas,
And with queer curls of fog that west winds tossed.
Small lozenge panes, obscured by smoke and frost,
Just shewed the books, in piles like twisted trees,
Rotting from floor to roof - congeries
Of crumbling elder lore at little cost.
I entered, charmed, and from a cobwebbed heap
Took up the nearest tome and thumbed it through,
Trembling at curious words that seemed to keep
Some secret, monstrous if one only knew.
Then, looking for some seller old in craft,
I could find nothing but a voice that laughed.
I held the book beneath my coat, at pains
To hide the thing from sight in such a place;
Hurrying through the ancient harbor lanes
With often-turning head and nervous pace.
Dull, furtive windows in old tottering brick
Peered at me oddly as I hastened by,
And thinking what they sheltered, I grew sick
For a redeeming glimpse of clean blue sky.
No one had seen me take the thing - but still
A blank laugh echoed in my whirling head,
And I could guess what nighted worlds of ill
Lurked in that volume I had coveted.
The way grew strange - the walls alike and madding -
And far behind me, unseen feet were padding
III. The Key
I do not know what windings in the waste
Of those strange sea-lanes brought me home once more,
But on my porch I trembled, white with haste
To get inside and bolt the heavy door.
I had the book that told the hidden way
Across the void and through the space-hung screens
That hold the undimensioned worlds at bay,
And keep lost aeons to their own demesnes.
At last the key was mine to those vague visions
Of sunset spires and twilight woods that brood
Dim in the gulfs beyond this earth's precisions,
Lurking as memories of infinitude.
The key was mine, but as I sat there mumbling,
The attic window shook with a faint fumbling.
The day had come again, when as a child
I saw - just once - that hollow of old oaks,
Grey with a ground-mist that enfolds and chokes
The slinking shapes which madness has defiled.
It was the same - an herbage rank and wild
Clings round an altar whose carved sign invokes
That Nameless One to whom a thousand smokes
Rose, aeons gone, from unclean towers up-piled.
I saw the body spread on that dank stone,
And knew those things which feasted were not men;
I knew this strange, grey world was not my own,
But Yuggoth, past the starry voids - and then
The body shrieked at me with a dead cry,
And all too late I knew that it was I!
] V. Homecoming
The daemon said that he would take me home
To the pale, shadowy land I half recalled
As a high place of stair and terrace, walled
With marble balustrades that sky-winds comb,
While miles below a maze of dome on dome
And tower on tower beside a sea lies sprawled.
Once more, he told me, I would stand enthralled
On those old heights, and hear the far-off foam.
All this he promised, and through sunset's gate
He swept me, past the lapping lakes of flame,
And red-gold thrones of gods without a name
Who shriek in fear at some impending fate.
Then a black gulf with sea-sounds in the night:
"Here was your home," he mocked, "when you had sight!"
VI. The Lamp
We found the lamp inside those hollow cliffs
Whose chiseled sign no priest in Thebes could read,
And from whose caverns frightened hieroglyphs
Warned every living creature of earth's breed.
No more was there - just that one brazen bowl
With traces of a curious oil within;
Fretted with some obscurely patterned scroll,
And symbols hinting vaguely of strange sin.
Little the fears of forty centuries meant
To us as we bore off our slender spoil,
And when we scanned it in our darkened tent
We struck a match to test the ancient oil.
It blazed - great God!... But the vast shapes we saw
In that mad flash have seared our lives with awe.
4 Comments 246 weeks