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one long blast
Feb. 1st, 2011 01:53 pmI'm surprised Vox hasn't sent his monkeys to fling shit around my livejournal. He has about sixty of them, this I know. This I know from Deviantart. Not sixty of them flinging shit (I continue to have zero comments in all the literature I posted combined), but sixty of them nonetheless.
I'm getting ads that may or may not be Turkish on entries that aren't about Turkish Star Wars or anything else Turkish-related, as well as ads from fucking Newsmax.
If I didn't know that Naylor's version of black people were hyenas, I'd have thought they were leopard-pug hybrids.
The Chinese have us shitting ourselves with footage from Top Gun. That's how you win an arms race. Perhaps we need the comfy chair.
So, yeah, being snowed in and having to read the War in Heaven makes Yama something something.
being snowed in and having to read the War in Heaven makes Yama something something.
being snowed in and having to read the War in Heaven makes Yama something something.
being snowed in and having to read the War in Heaven makes Yama something something.
being snowed in and having to read the War in Heaven makes Yama something something.
Chapter 6
We get back to Chris, at the gates of heaven, which are trimmed with a pearlescent substance that makes me think of a mythology I can't quite remember and won't dare google image search. Not that google image search is the most useful thing out there. Besides, I think it was their feces anyway. I promise to tell you what I'm referring to once I find it.
Chris reminisces about getting bored after two weeks in Florida. I can identify with that, Heaven's as lifeless as everything else here. There are angels there, so it's not like that play where Satan is put on trial and is allowed back into heaven because he says mankind was responsible for their own sins, but he comes back to an empty heaven that god abandoned ages ago. It's just another prison. It's by Clive Barker and it's in his Incarnations book but other than that, The Fool can't remember what the name of the play is.
Ah, the things I could be reading. I mean, I wouldn't be snarking them, but at least I wouldn't be suffering through them either. Oh well, I am enjoying Amnesia Moon, even if I am annoyed by my utter inability to find a copy of Girl In Landscape.
I did find in the barbelith thread someone calling Satan an invention of a God who couldn't think his way out of a few tricky philosophical arguments.
He eventually learns from Jeqon (apparently named after a succubus, but a vaguely ferret-looking guy here. Or a weasel.) that angels get sent to the Beyond for some time. Whatever that means. It's like death… so, um, what happens there? Is it anything like the blagho?
One of the angels is Israfel. It's dead, probably because it forgot it could split into twins, or possibly because the good angels had Dance Dance Revolution in Heaven.
Israfel is the Islamic angel of poetry and dance. He's definitely not considered evil, but expecting that? In this political climate? What are you smoking? The Pixies are cultural terrorists now.
One of the gates to heaven is a giant pearl, which Chris blows up partially by thinking back to a D&D campaign. It's a far out game, guys. When he does this, his wings turn ashen gray and his eyes turn red. That's the kind of thing I expect from a Chick tract. Come to think of it, Vox Day was the Jack Chick of literature before he became the, uh, the, uh, um, who's responsible for Billy the Heretic? I understand that nobody would want to admit to it. Either that, or I'm trying to keep my exposure to Billy the Heretic to a minimum, as two bad things at once is intolerable. Nah, probably both.
I almost said Jay Naylor. Jay Naylor actually has artistic talent, even if he is a complete and utter douche canoe.
Chapter 7
I think Vox and Kenneth Eng should collaborate on a novel. At the very least, Chris would be a skeleton and there'd be dragons with uzis and they'd drink liquid light and fight The Black Technokinght Uther Penn Sapien and His Evil Round Table.
Anyway, we get a recap of the battle of the twelfth gate, in which we get subtlety in descriptions (they pour in like a murderous pack of wolves, and I think if this was written in 2010, Sarah Palin would come in on her helicopter and shoot them), and the angels burn with the glory of a thousand angry suns. Pardon me if I start thinking of Super Mario Brothers 3.
Kaym loses the Fonzy jacket and gets black plate armor. At least he didn't call it plate mail. Satan gets a slurm bucket on his head and some toilet paper wrapped around his shoulder. Actually, he doesn't, but when I get bored, I tend to make up my own stories.
The Lord of Havoc has tusks and red skin, which makes him clearly evil. We get a mix of bizarre names (Im Barku, a result of half assed research; Im and Barku are two different names for Rimmon. Rimmon-My-Petal? You wish. He isn't described and I doubt very much that he's a giant baby with a cobra for an umbilicus) and Verchiel, the angel representing Leo and a surprising moment of lucidity, as he's basically a giant winged red lion.
Chris reminisces about Warhammer and Julius Caesar. It doesn't matter if the forces of light outnumber them, as long as they outnumber them at the point of attack. Or whatever.
Burning Question: Ads for birth control? What am I, a seahorse?
I'm getting ads that may or may not be Turkish on entries that aren't about Turkish Star Wars or anything else Turkish-related, as well as ads from fucking Newsmax.
If I didn't know that Naylor's version of black people were hyenas, I'd have thought they were leopard-pug hybrids.
The Chinese have us shitting ourselves with footage from Top Gun. That's how you win an arms race. Perhaps we need the comfy chair.
So, yeah, being snowed in and having to read the War in Heaven makes Yama something something.
being snowed in and having to read the War in Heaven makes Yama something something.
being snowed in and having to read the War in Heaven makes Yama something something.
being snowed in and having to read the War in Heaven makes Yama something something.
being snowed in and having to read the War in Heaven makes Yama something something.
Chapter 6
We get back to Chris, at the gates of heaven, which are trimmed with a pearlescent substance that makes me think of a mythology I can't quite remember and won't dare google image search. Not that google image search is the most useful thing out there. Besides, I think it was their feces anyway. I promise to tell you what I'm referring to once I find it.
Chris reminisces about getting bored after two weeks in Florida. I can identify with that, Heaven's as lifeless as everything else here. There are angels there, so it's not like that play where Satan is put on trial and is allowed back into heaven because he says mankind was responsible for their own sins, but he comes back to an empty heaven that god abandoned ages ago. It's just another prison. It's by Clive Barker and it's in his Incarnations book but other than that, The Fool can't remember what the name of the play is.
Ah, the things I could be reading. I mean, I wouldn't be snarking them, but at least I wouldn't be suffering through them either. Oh well, I am enjoying Amnesia Moon, even if I am annoyed by my utter inability to find a copy of Girl In Landscape.
I did find in the barbelith thread someone calling Satan an invention of a God who couldn't think his way out of a few tricky philosophical arguments.
He eventually learns from Jeqon (apparently named after a succubus, but a vaguely ferret-looking guy here. Or a weasel.) that angels get sent to the Beyond for some time. Whatever that means. It's like death… so, um, what happens there? Is it anything like the blagho?
One of the angels is Israfel. It's dead, probably because it forgot it could split into twins, or possibly because the good angels had Dance Dance Revolution in Heaven.
Israfel is the Islamic angel of poetry and dance. He's definitely not considered evil, but expecting that? In this political climate? What are you smoking? The Pixies are cultural terrorists now.
One of the gates to heaven is a giant pearl, which Chris blows up partially by thinking back to a D&D campaign. It's a far out game, guys. When he does this, his wings turn ashen gray and his eyes turn red. That's the kind of thing I expect from a Chick tract. Come to think of it, Vox Day was the Jack Chick of literature before he became the, uh, the, uh, um, who's responsible for Billy the Heretic? I understand that nobody would want to admit to it. Either that, or I'm trying to keep my exposure to Billy the Heretic to a minimum, as two bad things at once is intolerable. Nah, probably both.
I almost said Jay Naylor. Jay Naylor actually has artistic talent, even if he is a complete and utter douche canoe.
Chapter 7
I think Vox and Kenneth Eng should collaborate on a novel. At the very least, Chris would be a skeleton and there'd be dragons with uzis and they'd drink liquid light and fight The Black Technokinght Uther Penn Sapien and His Evil Round Table.
Anyway, we get a recap of the battle of the twelfth gate, in which we get subtlety in descriptions (they pour in like a murderous pack of wolves, and I think if this was written in 2010, Sarah Palin would come in on her helicopter and shoot them), and the angels burn with the glory of a thousand angry suns. Pardon me if I start thinking of Super Mario Brothers 3.
Kaym loses the Fonzy jacket and gets black plate armor. At least he didn't call it plate mail. Satan gets a slurm bucket on his head and some toilet paper wrapped around his shoulder. Actually, he doesn't, but when I get bored, I tend to make up my own stories.
The Lord of Havoc has tusks and red skin, which makes him clearly evil. We get a mix of bizarre names (Im Barku, a result of half assed research; Im and Barku are two different names for Rimmon. Rimmon-My-Petal? You wish. He isn't described and I doubt very much that he's a giant baby with a cobra for an umbilicus) and Verchiel, the angel representing Leo and a surprising moment of lucidity, as he's basically a giant winged red lion.
Chris reminisces about Warhammer and Julius Caesar. It doesn't matter if the forces of light outnumber them, as long as they outnumber them at the point of attack. Or whatever.
Burning Question: Ads for birth control? What am I, a seahorse?
