{Sarah}
{MyBestBuddy}
{Skule}
{MyComments}
{faboo:logs}
it's because your stylesheet has "div {text-transform: capitalize;}"
hence, all text contained in a div gets capitalized. drives me nuts.
anders [@] [H], 04.25.2002 , 3:05 am
And it is fixed. The question is who did it!?!. It t'wern't me. I don't go around typing text-transform: capitalize; for no reason... er... I would and could, but didn't. There's a styleguide ghost in this infernal machine... and I want an exorcism. Anyone got a cgi script for that?
Oh, and I fixed the fact that many links were broke if you went into the archives. Thanks unnam'ed person who told me to fix it.
well... this is all a nice bit of fiction. and fun to read.
of course, you can trace everything back to the 5th century schism that lead Constantine east. If you're Catholic and you die, and are buried, and they dig you up later, and you're not rotted, you're a saint. If you're Eastern Orthodox and you die, and are buried, and they dig you up later, and you're not rotted, you're a vampire.
Another good fiction.
Now, if you take it as given that most vampire fiction that any of you have ever read has been producted by a) christians, b) catholic or protestants, c) americans or british or anglo-Irish (Le Fanau and Stoker), d) moderns (18th/19thC) you can pretty clearly see that the vampric 'other' is none other than the child of the schism. Why else do vampires primarily come from the east, right at the Catholic/Orthodox/Mulsem nexus?
Personally, I believe none of this, but I'm not willing to provide my own evidence.
Sarah @ sarahsmiles.com
--- In vda-newcarthage@y..., "Sapphire Debonee" > The Legacy is the portion of the Sanguinarium which focuses on a spiritual - read cult... someone's just making it up > We are not cult-like since we encourage individual expression, opinions and - all cults allow 'open and free expression' of 'members'. Just ask tom cruise. Remember L. Ron Hubbard made up Scientology for fun too. > Right now the Legacy is pursuing the development of a system of "degrees" or - CULT. Though I've got no opinion of Wiccans. I met a government certified Wiccan once who was allowed to visit those of the faith in hostpitals and prisons. That's sounds legit to me... > These are not intended to "titles" of - BAD GRAMMAR! You going to trust someone to show you the true and proper path to enlightenment when he can't remember to put a verb in a sentence? True enlightenment means that you have the special powers of proofreading. - so, having already fleeced some yen from folks makes it valid. And living above ground makes you real? Hmmm... > The goal is to weed out such groups and - Four letter word beginning with the letter C. Kill the heretic. Crucify the unbeliever. I, personally, never believe anyone who would believe in me. They'd be a flake. > Legacy Courts are geographically based monthly cocktail parties / socials You need an elist to spread the word of a philosophy? The questions that pop up are: Now, I might be accused of identifying a paucity of education and philosophy in the vampiric movements. Accusers would be right. I love people I talk to on line, but we all know that when philosophy comes to vampirism it is somewhat mired in late Victorian occultism, pseudoneopaganisms and quasiEgyptology. This is all fun. And I like it too. But it is diverting, not an epistemological activity except in the most casual sense. Let's look at vampirism in terms of contemporary thought? It does happen. Go to http://www.lacan.com/ or particularly http://www.lacan.com/cover8.htm for Zizek's article "Kant as a Theoretician of Vampirism". Making shit up for fun, without context or reference beyond Victorian cutlure does not a system of thought or belief make. And no amount of obfucation can counter it. If you are a vampire, you're beyond the pale, ex officio and ad nauseum. The dark trick is learning to pass. Be well... y'all Sarah @ sarahsmiles.com PS: remember, everything you see in print is true. Everything that someone tells you is a religion must be true. And anything that bespeaks of hidden and obscure knowledge is of course true.
> and philosophical path known as "Strigoi Vii". ...
> the founder of the organization, I respond to my member's needs.
> feedback from our members to our BOD.
> "circles" such as other occult communities similar to those of Wiccans, the
> Order of the Golden Dawn, OTO, etc.
> little kids going around and pretending to be high elders, when they actually
> worked at Blockbuster and lived in their mother's basement.
> individuals who misrepresent our aims. Some groups have gotten ahold of our
> books and terminology and acted on our social elements, not our real philosophies.
> geared towards education, art, poetry, philosophy, socialization, ceremony,
> etc. Each court has council which coordinates the gathering and maintains
> the group's elist.
Pomp and circumstance as a ideo-spriritual belief?
What would the ideological foundation of the cult be?
The metanarrative cosmological structure that informs members' world views can be expressed as?
Wondering aloft on the intersection
of verse and breath.
Words diverse,
tone perverse,
romantic notions rotted
bombastic words besotted
while complications plotted
quickly go awry.
I think this group is dead,
with no one left to sing
a requem for the foetus
aborted in the early
spring rains.
For vampire poetry on yahoo groups... 4/24/00
[click for larger image]
Just over exposing myself with JaKE. I've got a couple of hundred images, that I'm getting around to dealing with... I figure I'll share because I'm not feeling creative with words.
IHT: Far rightist wooed voters with anti-immigrant line National Front leader in striking comeback
PARIS Despite critics' charges that his name is a byword for bigotry and bullying, Jean-Marie Le Pen, a 73-year-old former paratrooper, has led his National Front party from virtually nowhere - 0.74 percent of the vote in 1974 - to a stunning success Sunday with appeals to voters' fears about crime and immigration.
.
Although the National Front split into two rival movements four years ago, Le Pen won public support with his tough talk about law and order, violence, immigration and the expansion of Islam in France.
He said that if he is elected, he will build 200,000 prison cells, restore the death penalty and deport all illegal immigrants as well as all immigrants in French jails. He says he will first and foremost defend poor white families that he says are menaced by North African immigrants in tough housing developments around Paris, Lille, Lyon, Marseille and other big cities.
.
Google gonna kick some butt! Or are they whimping out.
I just signed up for some courses at the Vampyre University. It sounds fun, and who knows... you can learn something anywhere...
vampyress and
Nightshadepromo.com Vampiric Resources and
BloodLinks Top100 - New Edition. For All Dark, Gothic, Vampiric, Artistic and Satanic Sites!
and my
Sasm Topsites list that I'd forgotten about.
What am I thinking? I need to get out of that sort of space.
I've been putting off mucking about with my blog for that reason. But I just dumped about 50 new links on my blog to buddies I read. And after seeing my blog on a stupid windows computer, I realized that some people couldn't handle the colours, so I'll increase the contract on my text. Hope it helps.
Sar
I am broken. Tired and exhausted and stumbling
quietly up the last mile from the station
to my house that sits in the dark vale
still above me. My skirts are caked
with dried detritus that flakes memories
with each mark of my passing.
My foot falls to no ear but my own,
and my slow breath sings to each step a lament.
Voice cracked and eyes dusted, my hair
falls about my face obscuring, joining
my cloak in a wave of fatigue
extending to my fingers that
throb hung limp at my sides.
Slowly I count the last hundred
steps, and pray silently to
my heart that they are enough.
[my last of 100 poems in 100 days]
At the symphony tonight, my heart was not my own and my sould was enthralled. Sold and bought, again and again from one player to the next without regard for my voice or story. Pawned to the greater mastery of the conductor and the composer divine. This coven of acoustic adepts sang feathers of delight and chains of despair that left me lost an dadrift on broken rocky shores of hope, and thrust me on high to find myself perched up on the gilded silk devan of degredation. Seventy-eight torturers sat in silent motion while the tools of their trade broke me on the rack sonorous.
At the symphony tonight, my heart was not my own and my sould was enthralled. Sold and bought, again and again from one player to the next without regard for my voice or story. Pawned to the greater mastery of the conductor and the composer divine. This coven of acoustic adepts sang feathers of delight and chains of despair that left me lost an dadrift on broken rocky shores of hope, and thrust me on high to find myself perched up on the gilded silk devan of degredation. Seventy-eight torturers sat in silent motion while the tools of their trade broke me on the rack sonorous.
The Persephone Year (90)
The Persephone year, my trap
of endless night broken
by days of dark slumber,
never returns
me to a morning
spring of bright delight.
Seven bloody seeds stain
my lips and my soul,
etched with the smoke
memory of their lives.
Seven songs play on my tongue
and I am left to siren
their memories in the place of my own.
Blurred Reality I posted below already (91)
That is a metaphor.(92)
Let this pot of flowers = X
Let this CD of field and stream = Y
Let X + Y = the garden.
Rise up (93)
Rise up in silence.
Let the voice spring forth and say nothing,
though the plants grow, and the winds grow warm,
forgetting past turmoil of chill cold winter days.
Forget nothing, make no sound,
and chaos will cover the earth,
when we rise up in silence.
Boundary (94)
Boundary uncertainty
in the shiftiness of time
falls about my naked form
in a shift of comfort
and not a little protection.
Awakened to this impossible place
between any two points,
between them all,
there is no "ever fix'ed mark"
on which to hang a truth
or a lie in which to bury a fiction.
I lounge in the arms of uncertainty
at the edge of all things, and am utterly clear,
bereft of past or future in the fullness of now.
Something without warning (95)
Something that comes to mind, when thinking of being here,
is that sense that I've just arrived, even though I never left.
Every moment somehow falls a part, and drifts to that precipice
that appears close at hand, without purpose or warning.
a poemThe Persephone year, my trap
of endless night broken
by days of dark slumber,
never returns
me to a morning
spring of bright delight.
Seven bloody seeds stain
my lips and my soul,
etched with the smoke
memory of their lives.
Seven songs play on my tongue
and I am left to siren
their memories in the place of my own.