Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Valar
Skipping more than a few generations between incarnations into this place would be pretty weird. Say you were like a forest dwelling, shamanistic, polytheist, animist and next the next thing you know after falling off a cliff is waking up in like the 20th century. That would be quite a trip. What's going down with all this monotheistic personality worship, living in big cities, the death of nature and all that? Bet it would be more than a bit confusing. You may even write a book and like channel all your past experiences and beliefs just so you could stay sane and not end up really cracked and like being forced into further incarnations where you're working back out of that pit. Maybe though, you just read up a whole bunch on stuff and filled your head with like eastern and Germanic paganism until it all overflowed into some kind of epic watercolor of washed together memories which in the end looked pretty good when you stepped back and viewed it from afar. Possibly the Valar actually sent you into this manifold after they got new orders played to them in anew strain of the old tune they were being forced to live. There is a chance though that Raval Penchoit an obscure and not well known type-set salesman from the late 18th century really authored all this stuff and somebody later was renovating their house in Kent, knocked down this wall, discovered some old manuscripts and next thing you know... instant author and celebrity. Though my money is the Valar, but unless you all get to cracking on some mystic dances right quick, the best that is gonna happen is for you to wait and ask when you meet them. Pro tip: bring along some donuts. chocolate glazed, and sugar.
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2 comments:
Haha damn man if you were an famous ice skater, I'd hang a big poster of you up in my van down by the river.
And I'd prolly get in a lot of fights with the other people who live in vans down by the river, 'cause they'd think I was gay and stuff, but they just don't understand my completely platonic appreciation for the art that goes into creating famous ice skater posters, y'know?
My gay brother would try and beat you up too, not cause you were weird or anything, but cuz he'd be all mad that my lack of fashion sense and inability to wear normal flamboyant type ice people outfits which didn't make me look old, fat, stupid and color-blind were making him look bad in front of all his friends. Heh, no. He'd really just leave you an obliquely condescending note on the windshield of your van asking you if you knew what art was. but hey, if i was a famous ice skater i would totally use all my stealthy moves to convince the thousands of chicks that stalked me that i was gay and safe and trick them into buying me houses and cars which i'd all sell off one day and disappear to some secluded location in the southwest with billions in phat lewtz.
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