tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85734188367170570672024-03-13T19:58:07.124-07:00blackwoodAll Hallows...Every DayUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger187125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573418836717057067.post-90379615611429808732013-05-03T04:00:00.000-07:002013-05-03T04:00:04.957-07:00Career CounselingUnemployed? Looking for a new job? <div>
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Or, maybe you just need some extra cash?</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573418836717057067.post-2529127775146515172013-05-02T21:00:00.000-07:002013-05-02T21:00:13.123-07:00Marital Bliss<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573418836717057067.post-91598667500344285922013-05-01T04:00:00.000-07:002013-05-02T18:16:24.495-07:00Man's Best FriendA rare and poignant memento mori photo of a dog:<br />
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<i>The Dog's Cemetery, Hyde Park, London</i> - from my personal collection:<br />
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Another rare piece, a memento mori cameo of a greyhound:<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573418836717057067.post-18689613574194435482013-04-30T04:00:00.000-07:002013-04-30T04:00:10.169-07:00From The Vault: Walpurgisnacht!<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">As you stand under the darkened sky tonight, you may hear the rushing of bird or bat wing overheard, or the momentary blotting out of a constellation or two as they take flight.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">On this night though, those are neither bird nor bat, for tonight - the sky is full of <i>witches</i>.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The 30th day of April is no ordinary night, however. Tonight is Walpurgisnacht - witch's night.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">For many of us, our ancestors fervently believed in the stereotypical witches of old. Legally defined as an individual who voluntarily entered into a pact with the devil, flew on a broom stick - or, according to varied customs and geography, travelled on the backs of goats, wild cats and rather unfortunate men. A witch's business would be exclusively conducted during the hours when darkness reigned. This "business" would consist of killing and feasting on children. In between meals of Jr. cheeseburgers, tater tots and baby back ribs they took a moment or two to desecrate a few Christian symbols. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It was unquestionably understood that witches lived among us, ever cunning and watchful. The good Christian, or at least those wishing to appear as such, lived their lives at the mercy of this belief. One must be ever vigilant and abide by the many rules and rituals that helped to safeguard the good men and woman of God. Extra care and protections were even more necessary on Walpurgisnacht - the night that belonged to the witch. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But, how did witches' night come to be? No one is certain and the day has been influenced and molded by many countries, cultures and spiritual beliefs through the centuries.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Celts referred to this eve of May as Cet Samhain - the opposite of Samhain or Halloween, as April 30th falls exactly six months after Samhain. It is believed on these two nights the veil between the worlds separating the living and the dead, the seen and the unseen thins; allowing devils, demons and witches to mingle openly among us as they travel to their meeting places. Many of them will be on their way to The Broken, the highest mountain peak in the Harz mountains, surrounded by a deep, dark and wild forest that is often shrouded in thick mists. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">May 1st, or Mayday, and All Soul's day, November 1st, are known as cross quarter days, as they roughly fall between the equinox and solstice - a crossroads of the year as it were. Since the days of ancient Greece it is Hecate, goddess of witchcraft, who stands guard at the cross roads. There an unwitting traveller was likely to encounter ghosts and mischievous elementals, mysterious lights and music, witness the celebratory cavorting of witches and other beasties and even be in danger of permanently loosing his shadow. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The classic German book for children, "The Little Witch," provides a rundown of exactly which witches were among Walpurgisnacht celebrants - mountain witches, wood witches, mist witches, marsh witches, storm witches, wind witches, flower witches and herb witches.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In many european countries it is Holda who rules the skies this night, as she files over their Spring fields with a hoarde of unbaptized children. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Or the sorceress Walburga, who hides among the newly growing things in the fields or even inside the grains of wheat themselves. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In France there is Dame Blanche, accompanied by her entourage of cats and owls. This white lady haunts bridges, watery, thorn filled ditches and smaller waterways. Incur her wrath and she will push you over a cliff, adorn your flesh with thorns or simply allow her kitties to devour you. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">As previously mentioned there are many Springtime festivals that, throughout history, have contributed and influenced Walpurgisnacht. The Roman's Floralia - the Medieval forest battle waged between King Winter and the May Queen. As dawn approaches, the queen is triumphant and human sacrifices were burned. In later years, human like figures made from straw are thrown to the flames. Such rituals were practiced as a guarantee of wealth health and prosperity. To forego them would mean certain doom for you, your family, your livestock and crops.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Livestock were adorned with bouquets of herbs in hopes of repelling mischievous fairy folk. Exits and entryways were protected in a similar vein - sometimes with crosses fashioned from the magical rowan or hawthorn tree. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In parts of Eastern Europe pitchforks of hay were set ablaze and waved about. In scotland great bonfires were set in each village, while everyone danced around the fire commanding the flames to rise high enough to bourn the witches flying overhead. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A familiar and common practice the world over was noisemaking, to scare away evil spirits, demons and witches. These practices are still common everywhere from China with it's fireworks, North American's with our traditional trying of cans to a newlyweded couple's car, to Western Europe with the reveling and banging of pots and pans. These, along with pounding wooden boards on the ground, ringing church bell and the firing of guns. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Homes should be protected against witchcraft and deviltry as well. All brooms should be hidden away on Walpurgisnacht, lest a witch come and take it from you. Of course, never allow a strange woman who knocks on your door in the house. Instead, keep her busy by commanding her to count every blade of grass beyond your doorstep before you grant entry. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My own definition of a witch is a woman who wields wisdom, femininity, strength and knowledge - all qualities equaling power - a magic in and of itself. This Walpurgisnacht, I ask you to remember, honor and respect witches and their place in the world, in our imaginations and most importantly, in ourselves. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: xx-small;">Artwork displayed is conceptual art from Disney, created for the film <i>Fantasia</i>.</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573418836717057067.post-54926836681712861982012-10-30T20:30:00.000-07:002012-10-30T20:30:02.963-07:00They're All Witches...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573418836717057067.post-71769941524874312102012-10-30T15:21:00.000-07:002012-10-30T15:21:09.778-07:00Swingin' at the SeanceA playlist for your seance tonight. You're welcome.<br />
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<a href="http://8tracks.com/cabinetofcuriosities/swingin-at-the-seance" target="_blank">Swingin' at the Seance Mix. </a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573418836717057067.post-28922369517619540572012-10-23T10:10:00.001-07:002012-10-23T10:10:06.091-07:00Most Terrifying Cause Of Death In The History of EVER<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573418836717057067.post-49744991295778662912012-10-22T11:46:00.001-07:002012-10-22T11:56:42.543-07:00Home Is Where I Want To Be, But I Guess I'm Already There...<br />
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A collective of curious tales from places I once called "home..."</div>
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</span><b>Laurel Canyon:</b> When I was about eleven I lived there, with my mother. She had purchased this house whose back fence was shared with that of Errol Flynn's old place. I never cared for the house. It had one of those odd living rooms no one is meant to enter unless there is some sort of "company." Everything was a glaring white, or glass to reflect the barren, sterile room. It was a large house with many bedrooms and a pool that flooded the house when it rained. It probably cost an absurd amount of money. We didn't live there long, maybe six months, maybe more, (a child's memory is not equipped to mark the passage of time as we "adults" do). This is because the owners came back. Apparently, some crafty gentlemen had made a business out of learning which large and expensive homes were a second or third house for someone who rarely used it. They would brake into the homes, remove the contents and sell it. Then they would sell the house. An interesting occupation, no doubt.<br />
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<b>Echo Park:</b> My father lived in an apartment here for awhile. I remember my father's girlfriend lighting the gas oven in this little apartment. I remember the oven exploding. <i>In her face.</i> There is something else that happened. Something I am on the fence about telling. I'll remain on the silent side, for now. There was a large hill at the end of the street and at the foot of the hill a stairway. The hill was barren and open and you could see the top of it from a living room window of the little apartment. Some nights, if you looked out the window, in the darkness of the hill you could see a large bonfire and people cavorting around it, many of them without clothing. I longed to climb the stairs of the hill on those nights for the witches would welcome me, I knew. I might even get invited to the faerie realm if I behaved well enough. My father agreed but did not permit me to find out. <i>*sigh* </i>Anyone up for a drive to Echo Park? </div>
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<b>Atwater Village/Los Feliz:</b> There is no one home to play with today and I do not care to play indoors so I strap on my skates and traverse back and forth along the horse shoe of the cul de sac my house is in, over and over again. The houses on this side of the horse shoe overlook the LA River. Some sound and a vibration catch my attention. I lift my face skyward to see a small airplane plummeting, rapidly, it’s nose faces down and it is spiraling., a tail of smoke following behind., all of it so close, not only am I filled with fear but I wonder if I can touch it. When it hits the earth the ground moved, hard, under the wheels of my skates and I fall to the sidewalk. It lands about 150 feet from where I have fallen. The only casualty is the plane itself.<br />
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<b>Green Valley (a suburb of Las Vegas) :</b> It’s Vegas. Of course, I have many stories. This one vies for the creepiest. I live in an apartment complex on the second floor. Vegas is a transient town. A new phone book is issued every three months to keep up with the influx of new residents. My apartment building is no different. Two girls have moved into the apartment that is on the other side of my bedroom walls. They have been there for a few months now and are quiet. Of everyone I talk to, no one has seen them more than once, if at all. Their downstairs neighbor, announces one day that the girls came down to see her. They will be leaving for the long weekend, could the neighbors keep an eye out as there have been plenty of attempted break ins. I don’t know what time it is but it’s night. Bedtime. After having been asleep for perhaps, three hours I awake to sounds of animals. Chickens, maybe dogs or cats too…something that growls, that is for sure and there are more than one of them. They are also angry…really angry. The noises emanate from just behind my bedroom wall and I know what’s on the other side…the girl’s apartment. This can’t possibly be what I am hearing. I don’t strain to listen but I do strain to comprehend. I can hear occasional thuds against the wall, followed by howls or odd guttural noises.. The action, the sounds, they grow and intensify until…I know it’s insane but it sounds like they are literally tearing one another to pieces in there. I open my window and look to my immediate left where I can get a limited view of their windows. There are no lights on. The sounds stop. They don’t die out, they just end. I go back to bed wondering what the heck happened and am soon asleep again. By the end of the week the girls have moved out. The apartments have a small crew of three guys who handle maintenance. One of them is Alan, an older man probably in his late fifties. I visit him sometimes in the maintenance office. He’s funny and tells good stories. He teaches me how to make locks and sneaks cookie dough out of the freezer for me on summer days. I do not think he can read. I miss him. Alan informs me that the girls left, giving no notice or word. He opened the apartment earlier today. The walls in the room that share a wall with my bedroom wall has odd things painted on it, in black. Shapes and symbols he says. There is red stuff on the walls and the carpet. “Looks like blood,” he laughs. There were feathers around too. </div>
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Once the place is fixed up new people move in. They have lived there for a few months by now. I am sitting across the way, on the lawn in front of my friend Jan’s apartment with some other friends. Me being, well, <i>me </i>, I see one of the guys coming down the stairs of the apartment and call out to him , “Hey! Does anything weird ever happen in your apartment?!!” He is surprised at the odd lawn girl, yelling at him with familiarity and no doubt finds the question especially interesting. He approaches me/us and asks…”Why?” I reply by asking him again, “Does anything weird ever happen in your apartment?” He tells me yes. Things disappear only to reappear in places they are not meant to be. He sometimes comes home to find things broken or cracked when it is seemingly impossible. He has wondered if the apartment is haunted. I tell him a story. </div>
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I bet everyone has at least one story. Tag, <i>you're</i> it.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573418836717057067.post-48843621260925618522012-10-11T09:57:00.003-07:002012-10-11T09:57:45.490-07:00It Is Finished...Goodnight Harry<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Houdini keeps coming up again and again for me the past couple weeks. Tonight, I'll be making an appearance at The Magic Castle for the Houdini Seance. Here's a bit of history about the Houdini seances:</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Prior to his death, famed magician an</span><br />
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d self appointed spiritualist sheriff, Harry Houdini made a pact with his wife Bess. If it was at all possible to communicate after death whichever of them died first would make every effort to do so by communicating to the other from beyond the veil. The couple established a code to verify identity and harry had promised to unlock a pair of handcuffs among other things. </div>
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<br /><br />Harry Houdini died on Halloween in 1926. Each year thereafter, Bess would hold a Halloween night seance in hopes of making contact with her beloved Harry. Alas, no messages she deemed legitimate came through.<br /><br />The video posted below is a recording of the final official seance. After ten years of trying to contact him, Bess herself closed the seance saying, "It is finished. Goodnight, Harry." </div>
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Kate Bush's tribute to Bess in her song,<i> Houdini</i>, is not to be overlooked. <br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><span style="font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">I wait at the table, </span><br style="font-size: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span style="font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">And hold hands with weeping strangers </span><br style="font-size: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span style="font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">Wait for you to join the group </span></i></span><span style="font-size: 14px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/a-LidDiVViY" width="420"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573418836717057067.post-10937232943650316102012-10-10T10:47:00.003-07:002012-10-10T10:49:22.442-07:00Wisconsin Wednesdays<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><b><i>"Wisconsin Death Trip" Wednesdays. </i></b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">For the residents of Black River Falls in the late 1800's and early 1900's, it seems as though they were overtaken by collective madness or were, perhaps, unknowingly intaking poison that altered their ne</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">urological motherboards.<br />
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Local newspaper stories of the time were rife with murders, suicides, possessions, insanity...and insane acts. Here, death was part of daily life.<br />
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Wednesdays I'll feature various photographs and news from Michael Lesy's 1973 book.</span></div>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">N.H. Young "...brought home a bottle of whisky which he put up in the house near a bottle of carbolic acid which had been there for some time. He arose in the night, drank about 4 ounces at one swallow and lived about 4 minutes." </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">~ Aug, 1910/County</span></i></div>
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<i>"James McDonald and his wife were arrested in Eau Claire on the charge of having killed their own team of horses with were found in McDonald's barn with their throats cut about 2 weeks ago...it was supposed a lunatic had killed [them]. They were insured...The claim is made that the McDonalds wanted money."</i></div>
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<i>December, 1908/State</i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Miss Polly Nichols, aged 62 years, committed suicide in a most horrible manner...She became impressed with the idea that a small sore on her back was a cancer and that it would kill her. She went into the back yard, saturated herself with kerosene then touched a match to it." </span></i></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573418836717057067.post-69739723535218241412012-10-04T08:00:00.000-07:002012-10-04T08:00:03.446-07:00<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The little room with words and cheer,<br />But silent feet are on the hill,<br />Across the window veiled eyes peer.<br />The hosts of lovers, young in death,<br />Go seeking down the world to-night,<br />Remembering faces, warmth and breath—<br />And they shall seek till it is light.<br />Then let the white-flaked logs burn low,<br />Lest those who drift before the storm<br />See gladness on our hearth and know<br />There is no flame can make them warm. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">- <em>by Hortense King Flexner</em></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573418836717057067.post-61515761252868745022012-10-03T08:00:00.000-07:002012-10-03T09:43:11.587-07:00Beauty is...the Girl With Her Own Skull in Her StomachFormer Miss Idaho, Jamie Hilton, went fishing with her husband one summer day in Hell's Canyon, only to suffer a fall, hitting her head on a large boulder.<br />
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When she was pulled from the water she had no pulse and was not breathing. After being rushed to a medical facility they discovered severe brain swelling and cut away a quarter of her skull, storing it in her abdomen for the next forty two days until Hilton was well enough to have it replaced.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NTQvFU86Zy8/UGY9JgOqzII/AAAAAAAABIo/q6daK4-nfW0/s1600/50651749d8100_Jamie_Hilton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NTQvFU86Zy8/UGY9JgOqzII/AAAAAAAABIo/q6daK4-nfW0/s320/50651749d8100_Jamie_Hilton.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573418836717057067.post-26850492535078001962012-10-02T08:40:00.000-07:002012-10-02T09:27:56.158-07:00There Are Kisses For Us All...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oObL7N0JLBs/UGXEsFwcoRI/AAAAAAAABHo/7f8B_brs6jI/s1600/still-from-dracula-21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oObL7N0JLBs/UGXEsFwcoRI/AAAAAAAABHo/7f8B_brs6jI/s320/still-from-dracula-21.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I was not alone.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The room was the same, unchanged in any way since I came into it; I could see along the floor, in the brilliant moonlight my own footsteps marked where I had disturbed the long accumulation of dust. In the moonlight opposite me were three young women, ladies by their dress and manner. I thought at the time that I must be dreaming, for though the moonlight was behind them, they threw no shadow on the floor.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">They came close to me and looked at me for some time and then whispered together. Two were dark and had high aquiline noses like the Count’s, and great dark, piercing eyes that seemed almost red when contrasted with the pale yellow moon. The other was fair, fair as can be, with golden hair and eyes like pale sapphires. All three had brilliant white teeth that shone like pearls against the ruby of their voluptuous lips. There was something about them that made me uneasy, some longing and at the same time some deadly fear. I felt in my heart a wicked, burning desire that they would kiss me with those red lips.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">They whispered together, and then they all three laughed, such a silvery, musical laugh, but as hard as though the sound never could have come through the softness of human lips. It was like the intolerable, tingling sweetness of waterglasses when played on by a cunning hand. The fair girl shook her head coquettishly, and the other two urged her on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">One said: “Go on! You are first, and we shall follow; yours is the right to begin.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The other added: “He is young and strong; there are kisses for us all.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">-Bram Stoker, Dracula (1897)</span><br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573418836717057067.post-67218207998929754232012-09-27T08:59:00.000-07:002012-09-27T08:59:57.832-07:00Grave DollFrom <a href="http://19thcenturyartofmourning.com/" target="_blank">19th Century Art Of Mourning</a>'s collection comes this extraordinary wax effigy of a deceased infant.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-94tHmlxRFn0/UGR1vnXM4kI/AAAAAAAABG4/RLg-vS33e7k/s1600/Screen+Shot+2012-09-27+at+8.47.43+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-94tHmlxRFn0/UGR1vnXM4kI/AAAAAAAABG4/RLg-vS33e7k/s320/Screen+Shot+2012-09-27+at+8.47.43+AM.png" width="215" /></a></div>
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A popular practice among French and German immigrants to America. Locks of the deceased child's hair were attached to the head of the doll and the doll's outfit was created from the fabric of the infant's christening gown.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573418836717057067.post-39768716497386933912012-09-24T10:59:00.001-07:002012-09-24T11:00:08.736-07:00Willard Asylum For The InsaneFour hundred suitcases and their contents, left behind by patients that were committed to the Willard Asylum For The Insane in New York are now on display in an exhibit at the South Carolina State Museum. The exhibit, which displays the personal belongings of those admitted, letters, keepsakes, books, cherished items as well as artifacts from the asylum and biographical sketches of patients is called <a href="http://www.museum.state.sc.us/exhibits/SuitcaseExhibit.aspx" target="_blank">The Lives They Left behind: Suitcases from a State Hospital Attic. </a><br />
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There is an excellent, but small, <a href="http://nysasylum.com/willard/index.htm" target="_blank">archive of photographs</a> of the now abandoned facility that was the birthplace of Cornell University.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ilE3QsXEYr0/UGCeFP-A2nI/AAAAAAAABFw/DGDOwPwTmKo/s1600/w0544-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ilE3QsXEYr0/UGCeFP-A2nI/AAAAAAAABFw/DGDOwPwTmKo/s320/w0544-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The Morgue</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PUS8BuAxC8A/UGCezi7CbrI/AAAAAAAABF4/HtqDe5AcCoc/s1600/w0433.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PUS8BuAxC8A/UGCezi7CbrI/AAAAAAAABF4/HtqDe5AcCoc/s320/w0433.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Interior of The Pines building</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x60D0H9AA98/UGCe2_UEegI/AAAAAAAABGA/HrqWm7OKoc8/s1600/1236.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x60D0H9AA98/UGCe2_UEegI/AAAAAAAABGA/HrqWm7OKoc8/s320/1236.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Patient #4 - The Cemetery</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pE5qN86IhEA/UGCe5QzHo4I/AAAAAAAABGI/byvpi17Jyks/s1600/w0469.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pE5qN86IhEA/UGCe5QzHo4I/AAAAAAAABGI/byvpi17Jyks/s320/w0469.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573418836717057067.post-25716223657061660742012-09-04T09:46:00.000-07:002012-09-04T09:46:02.441-07:00Ghost NightI recently participated in the Ghost Night exhibit at <a href="http://theeveg.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">The Eve Gallery </a> , hosted by friends, <a href="http://www.ghoula.org/" target="_blank">Ghost Hunters Of Urban Los Angeles </a> who were inspired to hold a thematic night based on the belief<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #737373; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: center;"> "...that on this day the barrier between the realm of the spirits and our realm vanishes, and ghosts are free to travel between these two worlds. Thus, a celebration is held on this special day to entertain and amuse these visiting ghosts."</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #737373; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: center;"> </span></i><br />
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There was theremin playing, a fantastic thematic playlist courtesy of <a href="http://creepyla.com/" target="_blank">Creepy LA </a> , ghostly storytelling and the debut of <a href="https://www.createspace.com/3841950" target="_blank">GHOULA Comix issue #2</a>, to which we contributed a piece centered around the most bizarre bit of LA history we've heard to date.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C5hXw-vDxW0/UEYvELx3c5I/AAAAAAAABDs/F20Pm9z8x5g/s1600/IMG_4111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C5hXw-vDxW0/UEYvELx3c5I/AAAAAAAABDs/F20Pm9z8x5g/s320/IMG_4111.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ugmsurGezFo/UEYvJAx6NPI/AAAAAAAABD0/z7FYPolLdoA/s1600/IMG_4085.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ugmsurGezFo/UEYvJAx6NPI/AAAAAAAABD0/z7FYPolLdoA/s320/IMG_4085.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KiW_iqItK2I/UEYvN1B4pWI/AAAAAAAABD8/Kb8gvDVOVOk/s1600/IMG_4103.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KiW_iqItK2I/UEYvN1B4pWI/AAAAAAAABD8/Kb8gvDVOVOk/s320/IMG_4103.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sZbDGtO5AK4/UEYvZs_lW7I/AAAAAAAABEI/AOlevK0a-Go/s1600/IMG_4093.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sZbDGtO5AK4/UEYvZs_lW7I/AAAAAAAABEI/AOlevK0a-Go/s320/IMG_4093.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6y83OI70vLc/UEYvd74-eEI/AAAAAAAABEQ/w1t8J3k7b4k/s1600/IMG_4114.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6y83OI70vLc/UEYvd74-eEI/AAAAAAAABEQ/w1t8J3k7b4k/s320/IMG_4114.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C04_gGXr9P0/UEYvlcyywYI/AAAAAAAABEY/WiUPi-qIOi0/s1600/IMG_4076.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C04_gGXr9P0/UEYvlcyywYI/AAAAAAAABEY/WiUPi-qIOi0/s320/IMG_4076.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-n56lLl-n2x8/UEYvy2otCUI/AAAAAAAABEk/v0OVkxvvN0M/s1600/IMG_4115.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-n56lLl-n2x8/UEYvy2otCUI/AAAAAAAABEk/v0OVkxvvN0M/s320/IMG_4115.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EleX4E2Pva0/UEYwGxZjDQI/AAAAAAAABFA/fYEpVWBPHJc/s1600/IMG_4116.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EleX4E2Pva0/UEYwGxZjDQI/AAAAAAAABFA/fYEpVWBPHJc/s320/IMG_4116.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573418836717057067.post-19719120965463367332012-08-23T11:58:00.000-07:002012-08-23T11:58:09.951-07:00Carrie, Daddy and...MeI was finally able to get my hands on one of the photos taken that go along with the <a href="http://merricatblackwood.blogspot.com/2011/10/countdown-to-halloween-greetings-and.html" target="_blank">Greetings and Salutations post. </a><br />
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Here you go...<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NzlpZSURG7k/UDZ9KWotDEI/AAAAAAAABDA/zPvKD8SZj5E/s1600/Carrie_Mike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NzlpZSURG7k/UDZ9KWotDEI/AAAAAAAABDA/zPvKD8SZj5E/s320/Carrie_Mike.jpg" width="258" /></a></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573418836717057067.post-16284035706821588382012-08-09T08:33:00.000-07:002012-08-09T08:33:56.996-07:00Conjoined Twins SeriesAbby and Brittany, conjoined twins, will have their own series on TLC.<br />
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<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="360" id="dit-video-embed" scrolling="no" src="http://static.discoverymedia.com/videos/components/tlc/fe448074df3885c1feb74effa9ea6551a36806e8/snag-it-player.html?auto=no" width="640"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573418836717057067.post-89137116619606661162012-07-26T16:32:00.002-07:002012-07-26T16:32:36.422-07:00LA "Attack"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Today, in 1943, (mid WWII, mind you), Los Angeles citizens were convinced they were under a chemical warfare attack as a mysterious fog takes over the city...</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-K1zmusf4IPA/UBHRnM7pTLI/AAAAAAAABCQ/fFHYN8K9WSY/s1600/smog_3a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="255" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-K1zmusf4IPA/UBHRnM7pTLI/AAAAAAAABCQ/fFHYN8K9WSY/s320/smog_3a.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;">Visibility is down to three blocks at most and people are suffering from burning eyes and runny noses. </span></span><br />
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In truth, Angelenos actually brought on the "attack" themselves - it was the first appearance of smog in Los Angeles.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YgP9YszrNZs/UBHTVJfvkOI/AAAAAAAABCg/lEInzOatvwU/s1600/smog_8a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YgP9YszrNZs/UBHTVJfvkOI/AAAAAAAABCg/lEInzOatvwU/s320/smog_8a.jpg" width="318" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"> Um...Happy Birthday Smog.</span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573418836717057067.post-57877754726554765092012-07-26T09:48:00.001-07:002012-07-26T09:48:32.963-07:00Turn To The Left...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 19px;"><a href="http://www.ruvenafanador.com/" target="_blank">Ruven Afanador's</a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 19px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 19px;">shoot in</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 19px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><a href="http://foto-decadent.livejournal.com/1894590.html" style="color: #333333;" target="_blank">Elle Italia, November 2008</a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"> as featured by <u><a href="http://foto-decadent.livejournal.com/1894590.html" target="_blank">Photo Decadent</a></u> -</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><br /></span></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><br /></span></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573418836717057067.post-16047287213004530082012-07-23T11:42:00.000-07:002012-07-23T11:42:11.933-07:00Thirteen For Dinner<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Most believe the superstition about thirteen guests at a dinner table drawing the attention of bad luck, misfortune and even death stem from two sources. The earliest from Norse mythology, when trickster Loki, the thirteenth guest, showed up with a bit of mistletoe which ended up killing Balder. Then, of course, there's the biblical spin with the whole Last Supper thing - thirteen guests feast together and before the year is out, someone, most likely the first one to leave the table, is surely going to die. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yG4-OGVKOf0/UA2R3pewlkI/AAAAAAAAA-4/K5eMxixeRJE/s1600/Loki-norse-mythology-23174322-329-469.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yG4-OGVKOf0/UA2R3pewlkI/AAAAAAAAA-4/K5eMxixeRJE/s320/Loki-norse-mythology-23174322-329-469.jpg" width="224" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loki, being a jerk. </td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In 1898 <a href="http://www.fairmont.com/savoy-london/" target="_blank">Savoy Hotel</a> guest, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;">Woolf Joel booked a table at the hotel restaurant for a party of fourteen - one guest was a no show, making it a party of thirteen. Another version cites it was originally a party of thirteen. Host Joel, laughed off some of his more superstitious guests, but lady luck would have the final laugh, as he was shot and killed soon after, by a blackmailer in his </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;">Johannesburg office.</span></span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4V28mUJDdYw/UA2VkHXqOFI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/TVC2u8SOMI0/s1600/68800_10150102039082656_1544590_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4V28mUJDdYw/UA2VkHXqOFI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/TVC2u8SOMI0/s320/68800_10150102039082656_1544590_n.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">Since then, in an effort to avoid such misfortune, the Savoy has provided parties of thirteen with a fourteenth dinner guest in the guise of a black cat named Kaspar. Kaspar stands approximately three feet tall, is carved of wood in an art deco style. He is treated like any other guest and is adorned with a napkin tied about his neck, is given a full setting and is served multiple courses. </span></span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3yrQloPH4dQ/UA2YQvyljnI/AAAAAAAAA_4/eCDnpjAg60Y/s1600/Savoy-Hotel-cat-Kaspar-resize-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3yrQloPH4dQ/UA2YQvyljnI/AAAAAAAAA_4/eCDnpjAg60Y/s1600/Savoy-Hotel-cat-Kaspar-resize-3.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">During WWII, poor Kaspar was catnapped by Royal Air Force personnel. Winston Churchill himself, demanded the cat be returned immediately. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">Kaspar has even inspired a children's book, penned by Savoy Writer In Residence, Michael Morpurgo - <a href="http://michaelmorpurgo.com/books/kaspar-prince-of-cats" target="_blank">Kaspar Prince Of Cats. </a></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;">Triskaidekaphobics everywhere can rejoice and relax while dining at The Savoy. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><br /></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573418836717057067.post-26147592458137989572012-07-09T09:15:00.004-07:002012-07-09T09:15:54.040-07:00Heat Wave<i>1995, Chicago</i> - unusually high temperatures of 104 plagued an unprepared city, causing 700 deaths.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mark Czernick and his son, Zachary, 7, pray at a mass gravesite.<br /><br /><br /><br />Photographs telling the story of that tragic summer from <a href="http://galleries.apps.chicagotribune.com/chi-120706-heat-wave-1995-pictures/" target="_blank">The Chicago Tribune</a>.</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573418836717057067.post-28269576678491866122012-06-28T10:32:00.001-07:002012-06-28T10:32:36.501-07:00Horror Chic<b><i>A love of horror. A love of fashion. </i></b><div>
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That pretty much sums up this great collection, <a href="http://doublennchic.tumblr.com/page/2" target="_blank">Horror Chic,</a> on Tumblr. </div>
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<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573418836717057067.post-52984866511623280052012-06-21T16:09:00.001-07:002012-06-21T16:09:39.949-07:00June Gloom<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Over a year ago, I wrote about an amazing Korean horror fairy tale I had been watching at the time. Happily, it just came back online and the whole series is available to watch. Once you get past the first four minutes, which is a little silly, <b><i>Revolt: Revenge Of The Gumiho</i></b> is horror at it finest.<br />
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<a href="http://merricatblackwood.blogspot.com/2010/10/evil-children-monsters-and-ghosts-oh-my.html" target="_blank">Evil Children, Monsters and Ghosts, Oh, My! </a><br />
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Watch the entire series here, now renamed<a href="http://www.dramafever.com/drama/3862/1/Gumiho%3A_Tale_of_the_Fox_Child/?utm_source=Twitter&utm_medium=Social&utm_campaign=DramaRec" target="_blank"> Gumiho, Tale Of The Fox Child </a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573418836717057067.post-31073405323811483412012-06-18T09:04:00.001-07:002012-06-18T09:04:45.565-07:00Where Will I Go When I'm Dead And Gone?This video leaves me speechless - mouth agape, speechless. So many things to comment on and I'm not sure where to begin. Encouraging kids to be Norman Bates? Cable TV in your coffin? Will I leave a tear in your eye? <br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/j2dx_ginqYU" width="420"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1