Sunday, July 26, 2009

Les Fleur du Mal

Charles Baudelaire was NOT one of those people who overlooked the wicked and sinister nature of flowers. Now if we were to write a book of poetry (HA!) we would definitely desire it to be titled THE FLOWERS OF EVIL, and since that is already taken you can just forget about the whole thing. The only true poet is Fenriz anyways…might we suggest “A Blaze in the Northern Sky” or perhaps “Under a Funeral Moon”? You do not earn the title of being Satan’s Poet for nothing, dear ones…

Now we will be the first to admit to being somewhat cynical but the other day we stumbled (literally) across a copy of Caroline Roehm’s “A Passion for Flowers”. (Ms. Roehm is a perfect example of someone who: 1) will NEVER be named Satan’s Poet, Handmaiden or helper of any kind and 2) considers flowers to be completely innocent of any crimes or misdemeanors.) We are not sure how we actually acquired this book (!) for it surely DOES NOT belong here. The only passion it induced was to throw the smarmy, goody two shoes (loafers, perhaps?) book across the room. Nothing gets on our nerves quicker than someone blathering on and on about happiness and light, not to mention filling white vases full of white flowers and placing them on a white tablecloth against a white wall…(oh, the horror…the horror…)

Now in all seriousness (because first and foremost this blog is about seriousness) we enjoy a lovely floral arrangement as much as the next person, although ours are a touch more sinister. We tend to like spooky bunches of dead twigs and twisted branches so that we can feel the dreary chill of fall in the air all year round. Over time these evil bouquets morph into a deranged botanist’s dream. Moons and stars stud the higher blanches, illuminating an entanglement of tendrils while gilded leaves glimmer amid blackened berries. One must keep a keen eye on these haunted bundles of decay for they tend to become overgrown, blocking doorways and sneaking up upon the unsuspecting with malicious intent.

A proper vessel for your decrepit arrangements is essential. Porcelain vases in joyful, sunny colors must be avoided at all costs. (Now if you insist on using a container because it was your Aunt so and so’s favorite, it must be paired with a human skull or an obscene statue of Pan.) Dreary glazes in shades of mud, coal and dried blood are just such more appealing. Brass is especially lovely as long as it is tarnished, corroded and pitted beyond recognition. (Note: any and all polishing of brass, copper and most silver will is a severely punishable offence here at Chintz of Darkness…) Wooden casks and crude baskets workable as well as long as they look as if they have been buried underground or spent several months lost at sea…
Now we hope we have inspired you, dear readers, to create some floral mischief of your own…

This night of late October
The darkside open its gate
Morbid souls wait for me
For satanic conspiracy

Flowers of doom
Rising in bloom
You will see
Our immortality!

(“Under A Funeral Moon” by Darkthrone)

Friday, July 17, 2009

The Games People Play...

Here at Chintz of Darkness we do not understand the new fangled pastimes and gadgets that people are currently so obsessed with. We are at an age when growing up there was more to play with than mud and sticks but hideous and mind numbing video games were not yet fine tuned enough for mass consumption. During the course of writing this post it has been agreed that playing with mud and sticks SHOULD be a required childhood activity, along with climbing trees, reading books (hey, kids remember those?) and tormenting your neighborhood until a petition is drafted to have you committed to the local zoo.

Growing up Splendor was not allowed to have Barbie dolls. It seems as though there were strict orders not to expose her tender mind to the oppressive feminine ideals that the evil doll represented. This was perfectly fine, because everyone knows DOLLS COMPLETELY SUCK! Much fun was had with the politically proper chubby baby dolls received as gifts. Charming and innocent acts such as scalping, decapitating and water boarding (Splendor was ahead of her time…) and then throwing the remaining body parts in the yard. After disposing of the offensive dolls, quality time was spent with a large collection of sentient and sublime stuffed animals…

As a child Seraph was quite gifted at creating panoramic battle scenes and architectural wonderments both indoors and out. Rumblings of a distant war turned the family’s backyard into a reenactment in miniature. Elaborate battles ensued complete with bloody wounds, flame throwers (dad kept turpentine in the garage…) and general destruction. Next time you see Seraph, ask him about the time when one of his sister’s dolls stopped by for a visit (again, proving that Barbie is a FILTHY SLUT.) Meanwhile, great indoor cities and spires sprung to life from the living room floor. This mystical assortment of oddly mismatch toys (hand me downs from both a brother and sister) creating vistas worthy of ‘The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari”. Seraph is still a gifted architect of many devious and wonderful things…

Now all of this reminiscing about our rather demented childhood amusements got us thinking of devising some adult diversions. Firstly, one would need a human chess set of scantily clad courtiers. Who among us really needs a reason for body paint and costumes, much less an excuse to dress up as a knight? We would have to do something about the bishops though, because we really do not want those freaks running around the yard. The next game would be life sized Chinese checker board. The game pieces would all be tambourine pillows or elegant ottomans in dramatic shades of shimmering jewels. Players could lounge around between moves and smoke “cigarettes” or meet in the middle of the board for cocktails. We began developing a designer version of Twister involving Persian carpets and lily pads, but the adequate number of contortionists and trapezes artists could not be located this time of year…Did we mention the masked attendants with whips…oh, wait that was a different game board entirely…

Gathered here are some of our favorite playing card pictorials… Most of the playing cards used in this post are from a fabulous deck called “The Keys to the Kingdom” by Tony Meeuwissen. (The “dirty” cards are of course by Paul Emile Becat…) Tell us, dear readers, what games do you like play?

Death can on both black and white horses ride
across the threshold of infinity he you guide
Death can step along smiling within the dance
and as a pawn in a game of chess you stand no chance

(La Grande Danse Macabre by Marduk)
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