Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead,
Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep seas swell
And the profit and loss.
A current under sea
Picked his bones in whispers. As he rose and fell
He passed the stages of his age and youth
Entering the whirlpool.
Gentile or Jew
O you who turn the wheel and look to windward,
Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.
No Rainbow
This short film features scenes from two of my favourite films and one I didn't care much about. Gorge yourselves.
All Your Base Are Belong To Us
Tonight. I stole a little bit from the world and made it mine. I now have a new limb.
I saw myself smile like I have never smiled before. And I was beautiful. Tonight I ruled the city.
I thought I would be anxious and stressed but I have never been calmer.
Tonight I found one of my lost pieces. And it was good.
Nábrókarstafur
Nábrókarstafur, literally Necropants, is a dead man's skin from the waist down.
From the Museum of Icelandic Sorcery and Witchcraft:
If you want to make your own necropants (literally; nábrók) you have to get permission from a living man to use his skin after his dead.
After he has been buried you must dig up his body and flay the skin of the corpse in one piece from the waist down. As soon as you step into the pants they will stick to your own skin. A coin must be stolen from a poor widow and placed in the scrotum along with the magical sign, nábrókarstafur, written on a piece of paper. Consequently the coin will draw money into the scrotum so it will never be empty, as long as the original coin is not removed. To ensure salvation the owner has to convince someone else to overtake the pants and step into each leg as soon as he gets out of it. The necropants will thus keep the money-gathering nature for generations.
Have a look at an actual pair of Necropants, you witchcraft practising perverts you.
Damn that is weird.
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