Raising The Wind

"Made idle by cynicism, these two bored intelligences turned to the study of prophecy and magic. While still young they learned of each other's existence and fame in such arts. They met secretly in Jerusalem and there made a pact to perform an operation known to occultists as "Raising the Wind". Then they separated and returned to their respective countries, where they patiently set to work preparing the operation. 

"This operation (which has never ever been successfully completed) involves the selection of an ordinary human conflict by powerful magicians who recruit for it's armies occult assistance and thereby raise the conflict to a higher power, investing it with apocalyptic significance. Finding Man's story long and wearisome, they wished to force the coming of the Antichrist and, what must follow, the coming of the Messiah and the End of All Things. To slake their boredom they wished to stage Armageddon in front of the pyramids. 

"The Father [of Cats] took the side of Islam, Cornu that of Christendom. The Father recruited healers; Cornu recruited the sick.  The Father summoned up assistance from the Alam al-Mithal [the dream world, the world of images]; Cornu struggled against the phantoms of the dream world."

      - The Arabian Nightmare, Robert Irwin

Modern Plutocracy

The Vernon Hotel at which The Twelve True Fishermen held their annual dinners was an institution such as can only exist in an oligarchical society which has almost gone mad on good manners. It was that topsy-turvy product--an "exclusive" commercial enterprise. That is, it was a thing which paid not by attracting people, but actually by turning people away. In the heart of a plutocracy tradesmen become cunning enough to be more fastidious than their customers. They positively create difficulties so that their wealthy and weary clients may spend money and diplomacy in overcoming them.

. . .

The waiter stood staring a few seconds, while there deepened on every face at table a strange shame which is wholly the product of our time.  It is the combination of modern humanitarianism with the horrible modern abyss between the souls of the rich and poor. A genuine historic aristocrat would have thrown things at the waiter, beginning with empty bottles, and very probably ending with money. A genuine democrat would have asked him, with comrade-like clearness of speech, what the devil he was doing. But these modern plutocrats could not bear a poor man near to them, either as a slave or as a friend. That something had gone wrong with the servants was merely a dull, hot embarrassment. They did not want to be brutal, and they dreaded the need to be benevolent. They wanted the thing, whatever it was, to be over.

     -  The Queer Feet, G.K. Chesterton

After the game is before the game.

(Nach dem Spiel ist vor dem Spiel)

Always loved the above saying by Josef "Sepp" Herberger (quoted at the beginning of Run Lola, Run).

Looking it up I came across this one which is also pretty great:

The next game/opponent is always the toughest one.

(Das nächste Spiel/Der nächste Gegner ist immer das/der schwerste)

Two arcade games stood out in my mind from summers at the Lake Mokoma beach shop.  Two games whose identities I could for years never figure out.  One turned out to be Black Tiger, discovered years ago and mentioned earlier.

Recently, while looking for a better version of Black Tiger, I stumbled across Vizzed, a website chock-a-block with old abandonware games.  And among their archives I found not only a less sketchy copy of Black Tiger, but also the missing game of memory:

Dragon Buster

If facing down a wizard while flying swords toss you around like a rag doll seems familiar, then you might have played Dragon Buster.

Boss dragon not as intimidating as you recall from youth?

Bizarre hopping cuts of meat hurling themselves at you?

Last boss dragon doing backflips as it dances over your incinerating corpse?

Just might be Dragon Buster.

Play it now in all its 1980s glory.

Skirmishes in a Cold War

Relics of the conflict:

That would be your REFRIGERATOR, whose surfaces have customarily served as the battlefield for a chilly siege of PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE one-upmanship.

This was a drawing you did of your cat JASPERS when you were younger, along with a poem about him. Your mother bought this ostentatious $15,000 frame for it, and had it welded to the door.

[ SHREVV ]

Using the colorful MAGNET LETTERS, you recently left a succinct message, which may or may not have been directed toward anyone in particular. But you couldn't find the letter W, so you just stuck two V's together.


Your mother then purchased a fresh pack of W's and left them there for your convenience.

Appreciative of the thoughtful gesture, you left her a sincere THANK YOU NOTE, which you had legally notarized, and then marked with a drop of blood.

But part of [the note] was touching the floor, so your mother was kind enough to lift the lower portion of the document with a VELVET PILLOW.

Here Be Monsters

Pesterlog excerpt:
TG: dude monsters arent real
TG: thats stupid kids stuff for stupid babies
EB: maybe. yeah you're right.
TG: what are you an idiot
TG: of course there are monsters in your house
TG: youre in some weird evil monster dimension come on
TG: skepticism is the crutch of cinematic troglodytes
TG: like hey mom dad theres a dinosaur or a ghost or whatever in my room. "yeah right junior go back to bed"
TG: fuck you mom and dad how many times are we going to watch this trope unfold it wasnt goddamn funny the first time i saw it
TG: just once id like to see dad crap his pants when a kid says theres a vampire in his closet
TG: "OH SHIT EVERYONE IN THE MINIVAN"
TG: be fuckin dad of the year right there 

How you hate this season.

"April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain."

-American sports legend, Charles Barkley

...or not.