A different map

February 4, 2016

bonfire in sunset with young girls

This autumn we memorised
a different map, one that marked

the course of rivers. We learned to check
the phases of the moon, and calculate

the tides, second-guess the sweep of water
up the estuary, assess the land,

avoid the flood plains, then climb
to higher, drier ground, where a tree

could still be planted and drop its seeds.
We practised spotting toadstools

where they bloomed wet among the fallen
leaves, we fingered bracket fungus

clamped to the trunks of oak trees,
marvelled at the emerald moss, close-knit,

glowing in the grey light. And we caught,
in a glance, so many unlooked-for rainbows.

Only yesterday, we wandered home
through the misty afternoon, wiped water

from each other’s eyes, then stepped
into the garden. We raked up sodden leaves,

leaves of hazel, maple, pear and beech
and shaped them into blazing bonfires.

Angela Haward


Fornicatus benefictus!
Almighty Asmodeus, existant of Chaos,
ominous be Thy name;
Thy kingdom come on earth.
Lend me into all temptations of my flesh
so I may trespass greatly into Thy ways by my desires:
For Thou art all sex-seeking unity,
Thou mighty genetalia of creation
that knoweth no satiation –
grant Thou my wish,
for Thou art power, ecstasy and actuality!

Austin Osman Spare
The Zoëtic Grimoire of Zos

Wolfgang Ruppel

But these weren’t the kind of monsters that had tentacles and rotting skin, the kind a seven-year-old might be able to wrap his mind around–they were monsters with human faces, in crisp uniforms, marching in lockstep, so banal you don’t recognize them for what they are until it’s too late.

Ransom Riggs
Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children

Good Read

February 4, 2016



February 4, 2016


“She’d been attacked. Just after she came to the Belt. She was seeing that it didn’t happen twice.”

“Attacked,” Miller said, parsing the man’s tone of voice. “Raped?”

“I didn’t ask.”

James S.A. Corey
Leviathan Wakes

Seen on TV last night

February 4, 2016


Peedeel will make no comment except to say the film was loosely adapted from Bram Stoker’s 1903 novel “The Jewel Of The Seven Stars”.

all was rampant malignity…

February 4, 2016


With that, the poignant charm vanished. Inside the fifth machine, all was rampant malignity. Deformed flowers thrust monstrous horned tusks and trumpets ending in blaring teeth through the crimson walls, rending them; the ravenous garden slavered over its prey and every brick was shown in the act of falling. Amid the violence of this transformation, the oblivion of the embrace went on. The awakened girl, in all her youthful loveliness, still clasped in the arms of a lover from whom all the flesh had fallen. He was a grinning skeleton.

Angela Carter
The Infernal Desire Machines of Doctor Hoffman

Master of the World

February 4, 2016

masteroftheworldMaster of the world_Vincent PriceMaster of the worls_De Mester Der WereldMaster of the world_roburtheconqMaster of the world_rob

Richard Matheson’s film script is an amalgam of Verne’s 1886 novel “Robur the Conqueror”, his 1904 sequel “Master of the World” and chunks niftily lifted from his “20,000 Leagues Under the Sea”. Robur, needless to say, is a megalomaniacal genius of the first order. In any Brit or US novel he’d be a half-crazed villain, but to a Frenchman living during the third Republic and wishing for a return to the glory days of Napoleon Bonaparte, Robur is hero!

Robur desires world peace. It is his obsession. And to achieve this aim he flies around the world bombing the hell out of anyone who appears militant or militaristic to him.

Who says two wrongs don’t make a right?

The madness of his mission might have appeal to certain twenty-first century politicians who have (it appears) become addicted to the sudden adrenalin rush of bomb dropping – to achieve peace. The paradox, of course, is lost on them. As it is on dear old Robur, who like any mad scientist worth his salt, knows better than anyone else.