Mon 3 Nov 2008
Medusa, get down with your bad blood self!
Posted by laup under Discussion, Meditations, Outbreak, Playtime, Random Encounters, Weirdie
[4] Comments
The latest incarnation of the Halloweenie came and went, Hekate-yeah! It looks like this last Celtic New Year was so bone-jellying, even the Incorrigible Witch was out of town on random adventure. I can’t blame her, it’s been a year of staring at the rotten face of Medusa and kissing the gorgon’s revolting mouth on the bony lips. I’d much rather have pizza…and margarita shooters!
My costume didn’t come together as I planned at all. Couldn’t get all my scattered pieces whole for Goth Boy, so I had to improvise with a Melting Face attempt from Make-up Monsters. The cotton balls didn’t stick as planned, and the bean-corn syrup-flour-water mix was more gooey than I anticipated. I felt like my costume, my pumpkin carving, and my potluck all stunk. My Mirage was laughing at my feeble attempts the whole time. I’m such a noob.
One interesting thing is that the face mixture does dry after a while. You get lots of drippy tendrils and nasty looking textures. After two hours, the dry parts begin cracking and shrinking, forming cool textures. Some areas crack, and ooze as wet mixture bursts forth from not-dried pockets to make new formations. My mask tightened and during the potluck started to crumble. I couldn’t eat very well, because my face was held in place. A guy sitting next to me said, “You look like the lizard king.”
As Karin the vampire would say, “Having your face fall off is so embarrassing!”
I finally went to the restroom and proceeded to peel my mask off. Then it hit me – on the end of the year I’m shedding my old green skin for the fresh, soft skin underneath. I thought of Medusa, and how much I self-identify with the feelings her story draws out of me. My old life turned to stone and crumbling behind me, tearing down the old house to the foundations and building something new.
My Mirage snickering behind me. Maybe a stupid failure of a costume serves a purpose after all.
n00b, spelled backwards, is boon.
can you smell her bad breath as she whispers it in your ear?
rite rock yall, get on the floor!
x bitch ghost dog
Peeyew, rotten meat my favorite. I did not grasp that one.
Now I have a feeling of exploding.
Ozzy Osbourne sez, “Tattooed dancer! Dance for me bytch.
Can you dig it?
here’s some poop: the dancing clip is very western idea of something vaguely indian which has nothing to do with india or kali, really. more to do with a mind that thinks something about that statue but does not understand. westerner sees indian image as something titillating or vaguely interesting and is using it to say something that it thinks it cannot say with its own language. problem is: what it says is confused jumbo. that’s not kali, it’s shiv natraj. to whom i bow.
and kali dances by request for no one. when kali starts dancing, or shiv, for that matter, tandav, seriously, watch out. that’s what makes your face fall off.
Cool, I wanted to know what you thought of that Kali clip, because you are in a position to know whether it’s for real or not. I suspected not, but the scene holds a certain fascination for me. The balls of that wicked magician! But oh yah, if Kali is dancing it ain’t at his request, and yah the magician’s face is getting slowly ripped off each time he “uses” his magic, or it uses him. And it’s shiv eh? Boy is that magician not eating with both hands then!