In case you didn't notice how fucking clever I was being

I will make it explicit for you.

I'll admit I only came up with the idea of mixed rhyming schemes (on top of all ten being almost perfect iabmic pentameter) about half way thorugh. And I only really got into it deeply on the last few. But come on. It deserves more than plus two in total.

Maybe you don't want to reward 'pailing' on line four. But 'pale' 'weal' and 'sail' on one four and five? The interlocking alliterations of 's' and 'w' from two to five? Pulling it all together with the skull/skin metaphor on line five that unifies the 'blazes pale' 'umbral bone' and 'winters smiling face'. Nothing?

Umbral fucking bone people. Umbral bone. You are lucky to be getting this shit for free I tell you.

End-stopped lines on 1-5 and 2-4 with the central end rhyme repeated twice on the bottom line without fucking up the end rhyme with 1? Expressions and weapons? The fucking alliteration all over tyhe first three lines? What do I need to do here? Write you a poem? I FUCKING DID.

Alright I used 'this' twice. But look at the rhyme scheme for fucks sake!

I reveresed the end rhymes on BOTH lines in the thiRd and forth lines and repeated all four in sequence on the last line.

Gnathite for fucks sake. Do you have any idea what it took to dig up Gnathite?

Its the part of a jaw or mouthpart that manipluates or chews.

Ten Masks of the Creatures from Before Time

1.

The gaps in broken glass and falling leaves

delineate the angles and the face

whose shiftings cannot blur, as wheel-spokes merge

or fighters hands trace vectors in the air,

but freeze each sectored movement in the eye.

2.

Once gleam, twice reflected telescoped gold,

like sun motes hum in the predators gaze,

the cagelike iris of the wolf that counts,

arranging constellations of sweet time.

Seconds celestial, quickly eclipsed.

3.

The cold, enfolded shadow blazes pale,

weeps molten moonlight tears that slowly pool,

a face of silver cast on umbral bone.

The winters smiling face on paling weal

and skulls slow-sung farewell to tidal sail.

4.

This masks packs fractured spiderwebs on glass

which holds the slow-constructed droplets eye,

gaze staring blankly from their inverse world

of harried girl-craft faces and a sky

shining like the ghost of a carapace.

5.

The skin here is finer than a fly’s wing

and folds around the features like that shield.

Expressions flick and twitch, a fly-leg prance,

deceptive weapons locked in silent wield,

a trance remembered dance it cannot sing.

6.

The eyes of approximate millions glare

from venom-spelling reptilian skin,

the snake of Nox (onomastically; Night)

a daemons tapestry of keratin

the legions chained up in her nails and hair.

7.

The smoke from burnt iron cores of blasted worlds

writhes, denser than the floors it seeps on, gawps

and talks, with words unfurled pennants of iron,

these tongues coronal to a boiling face,

sourceless, centreless, timeless as the race.

8.

Pinclutch of unclassifiable eyes,

Facial geography crystal splintered.

This mask is latticing the tongue in light,

igniting solar lips and bright gnathite,

bones; setting suns like shadows dis-interred.

9.

A hive of thoughts is twisting in the glass:

knots rays inside this anti-prism mask.

Omniphagic Gorgonite mouth, alas

Unstopped by its fettered portal casque

making lemniscate noms of space, and mass.

10.

This mask is the skull of the dragon, death,

who came before all days and noticed hours,

breath spilling out an absent numbing mist

bower, an architectured void that no-one drew.

This first masks fist is weft and screwed with power.

Curriculum Vitae

The False Machine Book

I compiled all the decent posts on this site into a book. I am currently unable to bring out an epub version through lulu, but if you would like one, contact me.

Rumble City

Matthew Adams has done a game for tiny cars you build youself called 'Rumble City'. He did all the difficult parts (the rules) I did a mission generator and you can get the whole thing for free here.The generator is designed to encourage users to re-purpose things they would usually find in their normal environment into a surreal post-apocalyptic reality.

Swordfish Islands.

Jacob Hurst is doing this gigantic island scourcebook. he is soaking up a lost of varied talent from the OSR generally so it should be pretty good. For that I did some rumours of the elven ruins, a generator of elven ruins and some weird writing from a deranged elementalist. I also did a golem generator that gives you results in iambic pentameter and am currently working on a generator for normal shipwreck cargo that should be relativly dull, but useful.

Maze of the Medusa,

This is a gigantic dungeon, drawn by Zak Smith and keyed by me. The manuscript was about 40 something thousand words long and I am sure I invented something new in every room. It has been in layout for five million years and may, in fact, never leave layout.

Deep Carbon Observatory.

At the bidding of Zzarchov Kowolski, I and Scrap Princess have completed work on an adventure/module currently titled ‘Deep Carbon Observatory’ for Neoclassical Geek Revival. It is available now.

Click for a link.

Veins of the Earth / Pariah's of the Creation

Scrap has been working overtime doing monster illustrations for this. Go here to take a look at some of them. I have promised to try to get it published for June 2014.

My Island is the centre of the world.

A report on the island of Pat-Te-Chack-Ha.

"My Island is the centre of the world.

I know this because all waters are born within it, they flow outwards under the rocks and turn to the waters of the sea.

We make our living underwater and underground."

Geography

"In the middle of the centre of the world is our black father. He is old and quiet now. He has many long halls under the earth where his blood was, but he is old now, and dry. Many small streams come from him, but they disappear into his halls and then into the white rock. Only we know where they go.

Every tribe knows one stream, or more. Only they know and it is the most important knowledge a tribe has.

To get water you need to live, you must follow the stream underground, or know where it meets the sea. They all flow out under the surf and the cliffs. Go to the right place with your bag closed, dive down and face the black opening where the water comes out, open your bag the right way, then close it.

Now you have a bag of fresh water.

There is soil in some of the big pits and the mouths of caves that will hold water for a while. You can make a farm there that will not be seen from the outside.

Other people know there is no water on our island. They know everything here is poisoned. They know nothing can live here so they think we are ghosts. If they come, we wait for them to get thirsty, then we come out of the ground and take them."

Spells

"To make a spell, take the smallest grain you can hold, sing the spell to it. Dive down to where the big oysters are. Put the spell in the oyster, don't get caught. When your grandchildren are old, they can go to the same oyster and take out the spell.

When they want to cast it, they throw it into a cup of strong drink. The pearls dissolve in their stomach and the spell comes out and is cast.

So you can never cast spells yourself, only send them to your grandchildren. You have to think hard about the kind of spells they will need. Just like your grandparents though hard for you.

A big string of pearls is a big song of spells. Anyone with that had powerful grandparents. They can cast the spells one-by-one, or sometimes all at once.

Never tell anyone where your spells are hidden, they can be stolen.

The moon is gods spell and he is waiting to cast it."

Tools

"There is not much wood here and it is precious. If you see any others, try to take their wood!

If you have a wooden club that belongs to your family, try not to break it. If you do, you must go to one of the other places to get more wood and make a better club so your family doesn't suffer.

The shells of the turtle make good shields. The shells of the oyster can only be used by the Chief and his men. If you see a curved white dagger made from a broken oyster shell, the person holding it is a criminal. They smashed the shield of the chief. You can kill them for this. (Try to keep the dagger, they are very useful. Don't let anyone see it or they can kill you.)

The spell-making men have excellent axes that can never break. They can only ever be used for carving the tortoise shell shields. They can never be used for anything else. So don't try or your parents will die straight away.

If you want to trade, have the black coral. Never trade wood, it is too important. Just trade the right amount of black coral for whatever you want and when it is done, walk away, leaving the wood without looking at it. If you see it again, pretend not to recognise it. In this way you can 'sell' wood if you are careful.

Our father knows we are poor, he gives us the black glass to make our knives with. Not many people have this. Try not to see your reflection in the glass. It is not a friend." (see below).

Warfare

"When you get close, turn your canoe over like it has been in a storm, then they can't shoot at you. Then swim underneath them and come from below.

Remember, if you attack by swinging overarm, the dead can see you. So try to only do that if you are avenging someone. If you do it 'out there' then alien ghosts might follow you."

Food

"Remember almost everything in the world is poisonous. The only way to avoid the poisons is to get exactly the right foods and mix them in exactly the right way. If you do this, the poisons cancel each other out. If you go 'out there' to the edges of the world and you see anyone mixing foods when they eat, always do exactly the same thing."

Religion

"The thing with the food is basically true for everything. You can always cancel out a tabu or a sin with a different tabu or sin. But they have to be exactly right. If you can keep your actions even, you will be ok when you die. Listen and pay attention to find out what things cancel out what other things. In the  centre of the world the spell-making men know which ones, but out in the edges you are on your own.

Remember that reflections are other selves who can be tricked into helping you. Don't trust the ones you see in weapons. They are fiercer than you and will try to trick you into dying in their place. If you see one in wine or milk that's good. (Remember the wine and milk are poisoned.)

If you are in trouble, remember to always turn things inside out and upside down if you can.

Trust ducks. They know both worlds."

Tattoos

"Some tattoos go one one half of the body, some go on the other. They have to be exactly even. When you are born the spell-making men will tell your parents where to get the tattoos from. My uncle had one side tattooed with things seen by the starved and the other side with things seen by the mad. My father had one side with things women saw in dreams and the other with things seen in the night sky reflected in the sea.

Remember they have to be even!

So if you know your left-side tattoos come from the teeth of sharks when you see them. And you see the teeth, and get the tattoo, then you have to get the other side tattooed. You will not be safe until it is done. This is why most people leave the centre of the world. They have uneven tattoos and need to find the right thing or person to even them out.

If you get a scar on one side, remember to get the right scar on the other side.

If you lose a hand and live, you are a daemon, never come back"

Otherpool Session Two - Big In Israel

(Ignore if not into AP reports.)

Whole opening battle takes place across only one axis of movement, like a graph.


Sgt Shoxx persistently fails to shock any Thugs, does give one an afro. Thug claims he likes the stimulation and threatens to take Sgt Shoxx home, tie him up in the basement and use him as a massage machine.

Dark Platypus drives truck through crowd of thugs. Craig Charles tears his way into the cab and sets his dog 'Squig' on Dark Playtpus while strangling him with a power claw.

Nigel Reptile intervenes, leaps into truck, Sgt Shoxx (still on one axis of movement) levitates down and shocks Craig Charles from behind as he leans into cab of moving truck. Bullseye result means embarrassed DM must concede that Craig Charles electrocuted right in the Sphincter. Voids bowels. Turns to fight a surprised Nigel Reptile.

Nigel Reptile brilliantly spots dangerous point of dimension gate device inside truck. Lures shitstained Craig Charles into striking it.

Craig Charles electrocuted as truck crashes into this building.

Nigel Reptile vaults to safety. Team escape into building as police arrive.

First PC dialogue of game happens

Nigel Reptile - "Who are you guys and what are we doing?"

Team retreats to the Dark Loop hideaway. Nigel Reptile improves supercomputer 'Knuth', now amazingly intelligent. Possibly disloyal. Cameras now routed through Glass eyes of stuffed Moa bird. Tells them multiple assassins now inbound for Otherpool.

"You will address the computer through me"

Nigel has brilliant idea to turn on television. Chaos in Toxteth.

Nigel Reptile genuinely thrilled by small scale of British cities, battle is just over the road.

Heroes duel cybernetic monster Von Krupp, Nigel steals monocle, Dark Platypus tears at armour with occultum claws, Sgt Shoxx, shocks. Various incapacitation's. Dark Platypus fugues and wakes up in wolverine daze realising he has stabbed violent German cyborg to death outside a synagogue during a riot. Saves Toxteth. Now popular with criminals, scallies and Jews. No karma though.

‘Tis not every Soyl that is fit fewel for the fire.

“The difficulty, no doubt, will be chiefly from the great quantity of water that is about our Globe; whereby Nature seems to have made provision against any invasion by fire, and secur’d us from that enemy more than any other. We see half of the Surface of the Earth cover’d with the Sea’s: whose Chanel is of a vast depth and capacity. Besides innumerable Rivers, great and small, that water the face of the dry Land, and drench it with perpetual moisture. Then within the bowels of the Earth, there are Store-houses of subterraneous waters: which are as a reserve, in case the Ocean and the Rivers should be over-come.

Neither is water our only security, for the hard Rocks and stony Mountains, which no fire can bite upon, are set in long ranges upon the Continents and Islands: and must needs give a stop to the progress of that furious Enemy, in case he should attack us.

Lastly, the Earth it self is not combustible in all its parts. ‘Tis not every Soyl that is fit fewel for the fire. Clay, and Mire, and such like Soyles will rather choak and stifle it, than help it on its way. By these means one would think the body of the Earth secur’d; And tho’ there may be partial fires or inundations of fire, hence and there, in particular regions, yet there cannot be an universal fire throughout the Earth. At least one would hope for a safe retreat towards the Poles, where there is nothing but Snow, and Ice, and bitter cold. These regions sure are in no danger to be burnt, whatsoever becomes of the other climates of the Earth.

As to the Central Fire, I am very well satisfied it is no imaginary thing …  And tho’ I do not know any particular observation, that does directly prove or demonstrate that there is such a mass of fire in the middle of the Earth; yet the best accounts we have of the generation of a Planet, do suppose it; and ‘tis agreeable to the whole Oeconomy of Nature; as a fire in the heart, which gives life to her motions and productions … This Central Fire must be enclos’d in a shell of great strength and firmness; for being of it self the lightest and most active of all Bodies, it would not be detained in that lowest prison without a strong guard upon it. ‘Tis true, we can make no certain judgement of what thickness the shell is, but if we suppose this fire to have a twentieth part of the semidiameter of the Earth … there would still remain nineteen parts of the semidiamater of the Earth will make a partition-wall betwixt us and this Central Fire.”

Thomas Burnet – Sacred Theory of The Earth (1681)

Quoted in Why Hell Stinks of Sulphur.

Soil Monoliths

"Pedologists always have a trowel or knife to hand so that they can dig around in the ground, a magnifying glass to observe the fine structure, a flask of hydrochloric acid to determine the carbonate content of the soil, and a book of colour samples to determine the colour content of the soil according to the Munsell scale. Under each colour there is a small hole in the hard, grey card. You can wheedle a small lump of soil into the hole to compare the colour with that of the card. Perhaps the most important measurement is the texture, the grain size composition: how much sand, silt and clay the soil contains. Experience soil surveyors roll a small clump of soil into at sausage and stick it in to their mouths, chew it, ponder it for a while, and then pronounce the verdict: light loam, 15 per cent clay.

And then it starts, as there is always more than one pedologist around the pit at any one time. They take turns to jump in, pick at the wall and taste the soil: 'I think its heavy loam, 20 per cent clay.'. They will disagree about the depth of the humus layer and how the soil originated: has iron leached down from the lead-grey layer into the brown layer beneath it, or is it just humus, or have thin streaks of clay leached into it, and how and when did that happen? There are endless discussions on the basis of qualitative, subjective observations, where the lack of statistical evidence is compensated for by years of experience in hundreds of pits. Bullshit around the pit, that's what we call it.

Then its time to take samples. Brown, double-walled paper bags are filled with soil, at least one for each layer, and its up to the soil laboratory to decide who was right. Sometimes you push aluminium tins into the wall to make a microscopic section and, if its really worth it, you impregnate the whole wall with polyester lacquer, stick a strip of medical gauze to it, pull it off again with the layers of soil stuck to it and put it in a wooden frame to take to the laboratory. The soil museum at Wageningen is full of these soil monoliths."

Salomon Kroonenberg - Why Hell Stinks of Sulfur: Mythology and Geology of the Underworld