Overtime hockey, dinner, slow torture, and the Decemberists
Why is Melia calling me on her cell? Meh, I'll get back to her after the hockey game! (1-1 in overtime, oh my!) The Canucks have to win this one or they're eliminated. I like my mom trying to get into the hockey psyche: "We won't riot if we lose tonight... but we would have if we lost to Dallas when we were up 3-1 in games!" Heh, the backup goalie Danny Sabourin got some action too and made five crucial saves to start overtime! Good for coming in pretty cold, because he hasn't played since the last regular-season game against Phoenix!
Went to dinner with my grandma - guess she wants to see us before she goes to Hong Kong. This weekend isn't good because of camp and some birthday banquet, and we were reminded of how seven is an unlucky number for her. ("we can't have seven dishes... WHERE'S THE LAMB?!") Steph managed to join us, so that was better than leftovers eaten at home. (sucking snails, oh my!) Jon's talking at the camp, and wishes he could go to Redefine... however, Harmony gets into town on the long weekend too! Oh well, there will be other conferences and such! Now various aspects of my PERSONAL LIFE have been given to Grandma to think about for four months... I dislike certain people sometimes, really!
Edit five minutes later: The Ducks won the game on a long 50-foot wrist shot by Scott Niedermayer in double overtime. Luongo didn't see the shot which went past his left pad, either! (he collapsed to the ice in disbelief) You win some, you lose some...
Today's Educational Yet Truly Morbid Fact!
A far from speedy death, the bastinado involved the victim being caned gently and rhythmically with a lightweight stick on the soles of the feet. A skilled executioner was needed to sustain the torture for many hours before the mental collapse and eventual death of the victim.
Although the method was widely used in Persia (now Iran), the specialists were the Chinese who, while not concentrating just on the soles of the feet, used thin lengths of split bamboo to torture and eventually kill their victims. The 'lictors,' as they were called, were so skilled that they could flick the victim's body hundreds of times without breaking the skin, or, at the other extreme, tear the flesh off in long strips.
Culled from: The Book Of Execution
**********************************************************************
You gotta respect those torturers for their patience. It takes real discipline to keep from going all Tootsie Pop Owl in the torture chamber. "One... Two... oh what the hell - CRACK!"
*******
Follow-Up Du Jour!
Yesterday, I featured some morbid snowglobes and asked if anyone could find out additional information on them. Several of you were kind enough to do the research and found that the snowglobes are mixed media artwork created by Walter Martin and Paloma Munoz, and can be fully enjoyed at their website.
As a man once said about a lamp, "It's indescribably beautiful!!"
*******
Ghastly!
If you haven't seen the images of "brain worms" before, well, prepare
yourself by taking some anti-nausea medication before you click.
Thanks to Adam for the link.
*******
Morbid Lyrics Du Jour!
Jeff sends the lyrics for one of my favorite songs by one of my favorite bands, The Decemberists.
"One band your readers might want to check out (if they haven't already) is The Decemberists. Frontman Colin Meloy writes most (if not all) of the band's songs. While the songs are considered folk / rock, many of the songs tell stories set in centuries past, and deal outright with themes such as death, murder, revenge, desperate longing, and star-crossed lovers who meet with tragic ends.
"To give you an example, the following song is called Leslie Anne Levine. It's from the album Castaways and Cutouts, and is told from the POV of a dead newborn's ghost. Great stuff!!"
Leslie Anne Levine
My name is Leslie Anne Levine
My mother birthed me down a dry ravine
My mother birthed me far too soon
Born at nine and dead at noon
Fifteen years gone now
I still wander this parapet
And shake my rattle bone
Fifteen years gone now
I still cling to the petticoat
Of the girl who died with me
On the roofs above the streets
The only love I've known's a chimney sweep
Lost and lodged inside a flue
Back in 1842
Fifteen years gone now
I still wail from these catacombs
And curse my mother's name
Fifteen years gone now
Still a wastrel mesallied
Has brought this fate on me
My name is Leslie Anne Levine
I've got no one left to mourn for me
My body lies inside its grave
In a ditch not far away
(I love this song, but the one thing that bugs me is... if the baby died 3 hours after birth, how does she know her name? Or, indeed, how to talk? And how can a chimney sweep child ghost find satisfying love with an infant? Does this bug anyone else??? - DeSpair)
Went to dinner with my grandma - guess she wants to see us before she goes to Hong Kong. This weekend isn't good because of camp and some birthday banquet, and we were reminded of how seven is an unlucky number for her. ("we can't have seven dishes... WHERE'S THE LAMB?!") Steph managed to join us, so that was better than leftovers eaten at home. (sucking snails, oh my!) Jon's talking at the camp, and wishes he could go to Redefine... however, Harmony gets into town on the long weekend too! Oh well, there will be other conferences and such! Now various aspects of my PERSONAL LIFE have been given to Grandma to think about for four months... I dislike certain people sometimes, really!
Edit five minutes later: The Ducks won the game on a long 50-foot wrist shot by Scott Niedermayer in double overtime. Luongo didn't see the shot which went past his left pad, either! (he collapsed to the ice in disbelief) You win some, you lose some...
Today's Educational Yet Truly Morbid Fact!
A far from speedy death, the bastinado involved the victim being caned gently and rhythmically with a lightweight stick on the soles of the feet. A skilled executioner was needed to sustain the torture for many hours before the mental collapse and eventual death of the victim.
Although the method was widely used in Persia (now Iran), the specialists were the Chinese who, while not concentrating just on the soles of the feet, used thin lengths of split bamboo to torture and eventually kill their victims. The 'lictors,' as they were called, were so skilled that they could flick the victim's body hundreds of times without breaking the skin, or, at the other extreme, tear the flesh off in long strips.
Culled from: The Book Of Execution
**********************************************************************
You gotta respect those torturers for their patience. It takes real discipline to keep from going all Tootsie Pop Owl in the torture chamber. "One... Two... oh what the hell - CRACK!"
*******
Follow-Up Du Jour!
Yesterday, I featured some morbid snowglobes and asked if anyone could find out additional information on them. Several of you were kind enough to do the research and found that the snowglobes are mixed media artwork created by Walter Martin and Paloma Munoz, and can be fully enjoyed at their website.
As a man once said about a lamp, "It's indescribably beautiful!!"
*******
Ghastly!
If you haven't seen the images of "brain worms" before, well, prepare
yourself by taking some anti-nausea medication before you click.
Thanks to Adam for the link.
*******
Morbid Lyrics Du Jour!
Jeff sends the lyrics for one of my favorite songs by one of my favorite bands, The Decemberists.
"One band your readers might want to check out (if they haven't already) is The Decemberists. Frontman Colin Meloy writes most (if not all) of the band's songs. While the songs are considered folk / rock, many of the songs tell stories set in centuries past, and deal outright with themes such as death, murder, revenge, desperate longing, and star-crossed lovers who meet with tragic ends.
"To give you an example, the following song is called Leslie Anne Levine. It's from the album Castaways and Cutouts, and is told from the POV of a dead newborn's ghost. Great stuff!!"
Leslie Anne Levine
My name is Leslie Anne Levine
My mother birthed me down a dry ravine
My mother birthed me far too soon
Born at nine and dead at noon
Fifteen years gone now
I still wander this parapet
And shake my rattle bone
Fifteen years gone now
I still cling to the petticoat
Of the girl who died with me
On the roofs above the streets
The only love I've known's a chimney sweep
Lost and lodged inside a flue
Back in 1842
Fifteen years gone now
I still wail from these catacombs
And curse my mother's name
Fifteen years gone now
Still a wastrel mesallied
Has brought this fate on me
My name is Leslie Anne Levine
I've got no one left to mourn for me
My body lies inside its grave
In a ditch not far away
(I love this song, but the one thing that bugs me is... if the baby died 3 hours after birth, how does she know her name? Or, indeed, how to talk? And how can a chimney sweep child ghost find satisfying love with an infant? Does this bug anyone else??? - DeSpair)
Labels: adam, colin, dallas, danny, death, dinners, grandma, harmony, hockey, jeff, lyrics, martin, maxed-out tags limit, melia, mom, morbid, phone calls, randal, scott, wishes
posted by Flami at 9:35:00 PM
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