Alla inlägg under december 2010

Av Christian - 31 december 2010 15:40

Nyårsfirandet lades på hyllan tack vara att någon av er nere i K-na smittade mig med lungpest under julhelgen, så istället för att stryka skjortan och kämpa med att få slipsknuten perfekt inför kvällen blir det att upprepa förra årets sammanfattning:

1. Gjorde du något i år som du aldrig gjort förut?: Nix. Status Quo

2. Höll du några av dina nyårslöften?: Ja

3. Blev någon/några av dina vänner föräldrar i år?: Tror inte det. Har haft lite dålig koll på karlskrona-folket, dock

4. Dog någon som stod dig nära?: Nej

5. Vilka länder besökte du?: Inga

6. Är det något du saknar år 2010 som du vill ha år 2011?: Jobb & en fungerade relation

7. Vilket datum från år 2010 kommer du alltid att minnas?: 5:e juni, Vincefestivalen i Karlskrona

8. Vad var din största framgång 2010?: Kom äntligen igång att börja skriva på allvar igen

9. Största misstaget?: Att hoppas på att det skulle bli bättre

10. Har du varit sjuk eller skadat dig?: Ja, men inget allvarligt

11. Bästa köpet?: Varit för pank för sånt.

12. Vad spenderade du mest pengar på?: Studieskulderna :(

13. Gjorde någonting dig riktigt glad?: Synthfestival i K-na, med alla de rätta tillbehören

14. Vilka sånger kommer alltid att påminna dig om 2010?: Covenant - "Invisible and Silent"

15. Var du gladare eller ledsnare i år jämfört med tidigare år?: Ledsnare....även om "ledsen" är helt fel ord när man pratar om depressioner

16. Vad önskar du att du gjort mer?: Sparat, tränat, skrivit

17. Vad önskar du att du gjort mindre?: Tyckt synd om mig själv & nojjat över småsaker

18. Hur tillbringade du julen?: Med föräldrarna

19. Blev du kär i år?: Nej. Attraherad/intresserad, dock

20. Favoritprogram på TV?: Spartacus: Blood & Sand, House, Dox (serie m. -riktigt- bra dokumentärfilmer)

21. Bästa boken du läste i år?: China Miéville - "Kraken: An Anatomy"

22. Största musikaliska upptäckten?: Immaculata, Unextraordinary Gentlemen och Damh the Bard

24. Något du önskade dig och fick när du fyllde år? Ja

25. Något du önskade dig men inte fick?: Ja

26. Vad gjorde du på din födelsedag 2010?: Festade med lägenheten fylld av helt rätt folk & hedersgästen däckad i sovrummet.

27. Finns det någonting som skulle gjort ditt år ännu bättre?: Jobb, Pengar & mänsklig närhet, kanske?

28. Hur skulle du beskriva din stil år: Svartlätt/goth som vanligt, men lite mer strikt/gammeldags och lite viktorianska/steampunk-influenser.

29. Vad fick dig att må bra?: Bra spelningar, Mass Effect 2 & kall cider en het sommardag

30. Vilken kändis var du mest sugen på?: Som alltid - Ewan McGregor

31. Vem saknade du?: Valda delar av Karlskrona-folket

32. De bästa nya människorna du träffade? Heh, det borde inte vara någon större överraskning, right? ;)

Av Christian - 25 december 2010 15:49

But I digress.

The important thing here was not meant to be my own transgressions, but the deeds of my uncle and how those deeds, black as they were, led me to the place where I am today. I could begin like David Copperfield simply with a ”I was born, I grew up”, that would make for a far  to pale story to tell. Let me instead begin when I first saw him for what he was; a seeker of forbidden knowledge, walker of forbidden paths and worshipper of forbidden and long thought forgotten gods.

The sound of his voice and the very scent he brought with him – a smell of yellowed parchment and the dust of old tombs – has been with me for almost as long as I can remember, and to this day I can hardly feel any of those smells without falling into a strange kind of dread reverie. Made my first school-visit to the local musem quite interesting, it did... and long will that unfortunate curator remember the name of my family.

Perhaps it is unwise of me to take such a flippant attitude towards what happened, but I have heard it said that the last thing that leaves a man heading towards insanity is his sense of humor, so I guess this is just another desperate attempt to keep hanging on to sanity by the skin of my teeth for but a short while longer. Long enough to finish my sad attempt at biography and storytelling, at least.

Still, even as I write this I realise that the deeds of my uncle and what I myself have done are perhaps ineperable, and trying to bring order into the chaos of the Old Gods that we both serve may be more than any of us could ever hope to do. They are infinite and strange, and when you have followed the path towards Them for any number of years, time itself seems to unravel unto the point were it could even be my own quest that started my uncle down the very same road decades before I was born.

I know not where Im´m heading more than towards damnation and madness, and I can barely remember what drove me here, so who am I, mere mortal, to say where Cause ends and Effect begins?

Still, one beginning was the time when I woke during the night before my 10th birtday, from a commotion downstairs. My father was angry, I could hear that easily enough by the way he was trying with all his might not to shout, but I knew not why. There was another voice oppsed to his, a voice harsh and strained as if the speaker was in great pain and could only speak at all by a massive effort of willpower – it would take almost a full decade before I found out just how right I was in that guess.

I fell asleep again, eventually, and all my efforts to coax from my father the reason that a man, whom he told me was his estranged brother, had visited in the middle of the night and what the fight had been about. Unsurprisingly I was told not to be nosy, and that it was ”grown up talk” that I would understand when I got older. Grew older I did, but never could I persuade my father to tell me about that particular night, though in all fairness he did eventually tell me of his brother, even if never by name as though this would somehow call down also on us the so called ”darkness” that my uncle supposedly had gotten himself involved with and that subsequently had him branded as pariah and black sheep of the family.

Naive as I was in my teenage years I took the talk of darkness and black secrets as nothing more that racist ramblings from a man holding on to his 1950´s values and thought that my uncle had simply married a woman of coulour or something in that vein...and little did I know how wrong I was.

I know today of an Elder Being called by some The Black Pharao, and I would be quite surprised if my uncle had not shared this knowlege, but the similarities in language ends there. I know also that there exists,  past the light of the stars, a darkness beyond anything we can possibly understand, a void of pure emptiness were life itself in anathema.

Was my father aware of this, of the Old Darkness, the Gods Beyond the Stars, the secrets they hold and the prices one might pay to learn those secrets? I am am unsure as to the depths of his knowledge, but I hold no doubt that he had some insights.

What differed him from his brother was that while my father had always been careful, my uncle - I was told - had since childhood been locked into the habit of acting first and seldom, if ever, slow down to contemplate the effect of his actions. I assume that is was in no small amount this particular state of mind that led him to keep digging after that initial discovery of which I will probably never know the full story, and to keep searching for the next clue- headstong and stubborn old man that was - and to, eventually, tear aside the last remnants of the veil that other more merciful Gods have placed before our eyes to keep us from seeing too much. The veil was torn away, and he saw.

He saw, he remembered, and eventually I too would come to see.

Av Christian - 23 december 2010 14:50

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.

Philip Larkin, "This be verse"

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