Thread: how are you?

For 250 years he dwelt in the caverns of his homeland, now he emerged to seek companionship 20 years after the last of his tribe perished. They thought they might live forever with the fountain of life seemingly dripping on their heads from above, little did they know it was just a super tonic of vitamin enriched water seeping through the jungle floor that prolonged their lives, a chemical concoction of decayed leaves and flowers mixed just right, impurities filtered through the soil making it more potent. He walked out into the stinging sunlight, felt it piercing successive layers of his skin and then it seeped into his marrow where it felt good. In the caverns sunlight was a rare treat when it shone for sparse moments through the openings high above and the tribe would take turns bathing in it, like oasis' of light and they were Bedouin of the darkness. He was surprised that he still knew the forest as he had while only a child before the tribe had decided to retreat to the caverns when the first ghost man arrived to feed on their gold, at least thats what they thought because when he found it he would bite it... they suspected for ripeness. But here he was following overgrown trails by muscle memory, on auto pilot he walked and walked not realizing the jungle was growing less and less dense. It wasn't until he heard the loudest frog croak in his long life that he stopped, raised his head and saw what the ghost man had done to his homeland. "He, he, or they must have eaten down the hills and mountains like termites and carved these tree high dwellings in the process and from the crumbs he has made these stone hard paths...there are so many of them down there I see like the insects of the jungle." It was his only explanation for the sight he saw, the multi-storied buildings could only have been carved out of an existing mountain, no one could build that high and the roads with the embedded rocks had to be some kind of saliva/mountain remnant mixture...His apprehension held him solid for hours as he waited for his comforting darkness within which he would sneak down and take a closer look at this village carved from the mountains, but as the sun grew dimmer the village brightened "They have trapped the sunlight, or did they steal the stars? I can not see all of the stars I remember there was a whole sky full of stars, how can one steal a star, but they have I see them all over along the paths and inside the dwelling and even moving with them ..." He stilled himself and began his trek into the village, he had lived 250 years so he was now ready for whatever these mountain devouring ghost men would do to him. With chest out and head high he forged forth along the path, not flinching as the ghost men flew past in the hollow shelled, tar ringed rolling magic carts, he figured they must have some beasts like pumas hidden underneath running with these on their backs, it impressed him to no end but he remained stoic and pressed on until he came to the first towering dwelling, he looked up in awe and fainted.... In the hospital, Dr. Decosta looked down upon this elderly tribal man and spoke to him in the native tongue, "How are you?"

He was shocked to hear her speak to him in a broken form of his language, he replied "How do you speak to me?"

She explained that her family had been part of a neighboring tribe and she recognized the markings on his walking stick. "What is your name?" she asked.

"I am Vieope, witch doctor of the Cavern Tribe and last survivor," was his response.....

Originally Posted by maniclion

For 250 years he dwelt in the caverns of his homeland, now he emerged to seek companionship 20 years after the last of his tribe perished. They thought they might live forever with the fountain of life seemingly dripping on their heads from above, little did they know it was just a super tonic of vitamin enriched water seeping through the jungle floor that prolonged their lives, a chemical concoction of decayed leaves and flowers mixed just right, impurities filtered through the soil making it more potent. He walked out into the stinging sunlight, felt it piercing successive layers of his skin and then it seeped into his marrow where it felt good. In the caverns sunlight was a rare treat when it shone for sparse moments through the openings high above and the tribe would take turns bathing in it, like oasis' of light and they were Bedouin of the darkness. He was surprised that he still knew the forest as he had while only a child before the tribe had decided to retreat to the caverns when the first ghost man arrived to feed on their gold, at least thats what they thought because when he found it he would bite it... they suspected for ripeness. But here he was following overgrown trails by muscle memory, on auto pilot he walked and walked not realizing the jungle was growing less and less dense. It wasn't until he heard the loudest frog croak in his long life that he stopped, raised his head and saw what the ghost man had done to his homeland. "He, he, or they must have eaten down the hills and mountains like termites and carved these tree high dwellings in the process and from the crumbs he has made these stone hard paths...there are so many of them down there I see like the insects of the jungle." It was his only explanation for the sight he saw, the multi-storied buildings could only have been carved out of an existing mountain, no one could build that high and the roads with the embedded rocks had to be some kind of saliva/mountain remnant mixture...His apprehension held him solid for hours as he waited for his comforting darkness within which he would sneak down and take a closer look at this village carved from the mountains, but as the sun grew dimmer the village brightened "They have trapped the sunlight, or did they steal the stars? I can not see all of the stars I remember there was a whole sky full of stars, how can one steal a star, but they have I see them all over along the paths and inside the dwelling and even moving with them ..." He stilled himself and began his trek into the village, he had lived 250 years so he was now ready for whatever these mountain devouring ghost men would do to him. With chest out and head high he forged forth along the path, not flinching as the ghost men flew past in the hollow shelled, tar ringed rolling magic carts, he figured they must have some beasts like pumas hidden underneath running with these on their backs, it impressed him to no end but he remained stoic and pressed on until he came to the first towering dwelling, he looked up in awe and fainted.... In the hospital, Dr. Decosta looked down upon this elderly tribal man and spoke to him in the native tongue, "How are you?"

He was shocked to hear her speak to him in a broken form of his language, he replied "How do you speak to me?"

She explained that her family had been part of a neighboring tribe and she recognized the markings on his walking stick. "What is your name?" she asked.

"I am Vieope, witch doctor of the Cavern Tribe and last survivor," was his response.....

Wow, that was mind-blowing.

go on

if you look down there is a rabbit on yo nutz!!!!

Originally Posted by maniclion

For 250 years he dwelt in the caverns of his homeland, now he emerged to seek companionship 20 years after the last of his tribe perished. They thought they might live forever with the fountain of life seemingly dripping on their heads from above, little did they know it was just a super tonic of vitamin enriched water seeping through the jungle floor that prolonged their lives, a chemical concoction of decayed leaves and flowers mixed just right, impurities filtered through the soil making it more potent. He walked out into the stinging sunlight, felt it piercing successive layers of his skin and then it seeped into his marrow where it felt good. In the caverns sunlight was a rare treat when it shone for sparse moments through the openings high above and the tribe would take turns bathing in it, like oasis' of light and they were Bedouin of the darkness. He was surprised that he still knew the forest as he had while only a child before the tribe had decided to retreat to the caverns when the first ghost man arrived to feed on their gold, at least thats what they thought because when he found it he would bite it... they suspected for ripeness. But here he was following overgrown trails by muscle memory, on auto pilot he walked and walked not realizing the jungle was growing less and less dense. It wasn't until he heard the loudest frog croak in his long life that he stopped, raised his head and saw what the ghost man had done to his homeland. "He, he, or they must have eaten down the hills and mountains like termites and carved these tree high dwellings in the process and from the crumbs he has made these stone hard paths...there are so many of them down there I see like the insects of the jungle." It was his only explanation for the sight he saw, the multi-storied buildings could only have been carved out of an existing mountain, no one could build that high and the roads with the embedded rocks had to be some kind of saliva/mountain remnant mixture...His apprehension held him solid for hours as he waited for his comforting darkness within which he would sneak down and take a closer look at this village carved from the mountains, but as the sun grew dimmer the village brightened "They have trapped the sunlight, or did they steal the stars? I can not see all of the stars I remember there was a whole sky full of stars, how can one steal a star, but they have I see them all over along the paths and inside the dwelling and even moving with them ..." He stilled himself and began his trek into the village, he had lived 250 years so he was now ready for whatever these mountain devouring ghost men would do to him. With chest out and head high he forged forth along the path, not flinching as the ghost men flew past in the hollow shelled, tar ringed rolling magic carts, he figured they must have some beasts like pumas hidden underneath running with these on their backs, it impressed him to no end but he remained stoic and pressed on until he came to the first towering dwelling, he looked up in awe and fainted.... In the hospital, Dr. Decosta looked down upon this elderly tribal man and spoke to him in the native tongue, "How are you?"

He was shocked to hear her speak to him in a broken form of his language, he replied "How do you speak to me?"

She explained that her family had been part of a neighboring tribe and she recognized the markings on his walking stick. "What is your name?" she asked.

"I am Vieope, witch doctor of the Cavern Tribe and last survivor," was his response.....

Cool and insteresting. Specially because I just returned from the forest like 1 hour ago. I spent the day swimming in the river, listening to mp3 and eating fish. I planned to read a book but only read one paragraph from it. It is a book that talks about surrealists and fantastic writers, you would like it. At least the paragraph I read today and a few pages I read some days ago tells me it is going to be fun to read everything, every word.

If your attention is still on the fantastic, search for a movie named Suspiria by dario argento, it is an italian movie. So scary I had to stop the movie and to make a thread. It is not your normal scary movie, it is a movie that is scary because of the atmosphere it is able to create. The movie is old. Try to watch it.

Originally Posted by Vieope

Cool and insteresting. Specially because I just returned from the forest like 1 hour ago. I spent the day swimming in the river, listening to mp3 and eating fish. I planned to read a book but only read one paragraph from it. It is a book that talks about surrealists and fantastic writers, you would like it. At least the paragraph I read today and a few pages I read some days ago tells me it is going to be fun to read everything, every word.

If your attention is still on the fantastic, search for a movie named Suspiria by dario argento, it is an italian movie. So scary I had to stop the movie and to make a thread. It is not your normal scary movie, it is a movie that is scary because of the atmosphere it is able to create. The movie is old. Try to watch it.

If you have never seen a film by Fellini I suggest you start with 'Juliet of the Spirits', it was very surreal....another movie I saw that was very funny is called 'Mon Oncle' a French film full of visual humor all over the place.....

Originally Posted by maniclion

If you have never seen a film by Fellini I suggest you start with 'Juliet of the Spirits', it was very surreal....another movie I saw that was very funny is called 'Mon Oncle' a French film full of visual humor all over the place.....

If you watch the thing I tell you to watch, you will be very happy with my suggestions. Watch the movie I talked about it above and I will watch the movies you wrote in that message. I will do it in less than 3 days, can you do it too?

You're on...

Originally Posted by maniclion

If you have never seen a film by Fellini I suggest you start with 'Juliet of the Spirits', it was very surreal....another movie I saw that was very funny is called 'Mon Oncle' a French film full of visual humor all over the place.....

i asked vanity to find me these movies and he said i should recommend taxidermia and gloomy sunday to you


Taxidermia (2006)
Gloomy Sunday (1999)

Originally Posted by Little Wing

i asked vanity to find me these movies and he said i should recommend taxidermia and gloomy sunday to you


Taxidermia (2006) is a reaaaalllly fucked up movie
Gloomy Sunday (1999)

Originally Posted by Little Wing

Oh I'll be checking them out thanks....I had another friend turn me onto some books by Carl Hiaasen earlier last week for character development examples, he said he really got into the head of his characters. That's what I want to do in my novel.....

Vanity likes grotesque art and Taxidermia is certainly grotesque. luckily he redeemed himself with Amelie Amélie (2001)

i looked up Carl Hiaasen and his books sound interesting, think i'll get a couple for my son.

"Reminiscent of the snarky, opinionated newspaper articles of the great Mark Twain, Hiaasen's columns are finely crafted little gems." (Booklist)

nice.

Originally Posted by maniclion

You're on...

Wonderful film. Thanks I really liked it.

I am watching the other one tonight. Have you watched Suspiria? I am bumping the thread later if you dont see the movie.

Originally Posted by Vieope

Wonderful film. Thanks I really liked it.

I am watching the other one tonight. Have you watched Suspiria? I am bumping the thread later if you dont see the movie.

The torrent is just about finished, I checked this morning it was 88%. Hopefully I can burn it and watch it tonight in comfort...

Carl Hiaasen is an interesting writer. Ever read any Andrew Vachss? The Burke series was very cool. Kind of interested to see what he does next. Very unique style. Big fan of Walter Mosley. Much more traditional writer, but he manages to work social commentary into his books without becoming preachy. Great characters and story lines. Of course, you can't beat the holy trinity of American Detective Fiction-Ross Macdonald, Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett. Jim Thompson wrote interesting pulp stuff as well. I'll shut up now; I can go on for hours about writers and writing. Don't even get me started about films...

Originally Posted by maniclion

the torrent is just about finished, i checked this morning it was 88%.

89%?

Originally Posted by MDR

Carl Hiaasen is an interesting writer. Ever read any Andrew Vachss? The Burke series was very cool. Kind of interested to see what he does next. Very unique style. Big fan of Walter Mosley. Much more traditional writer, but he manages to work social commentary into his books without becoming preachy. Great characters and story lines. Of course, you can't beat the holy trinity of American Detective Fiction-Ross Macdonald, Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett. Jim Thompson wrote interesting pulp stuff as well. I'll shut up now; I can go on for hours about writers and writing. Don't even get me started about films...

I love Ross MacDonald.The Chill was one of the best detective stories ever written.

Originally Posted by MyK 3.0

if you look down there is a rabbit on yo nutz!!!!

I was starting to get serious reading the posts until I saw this. HAHA. epic ice breaker!

Originally Posted by dave 236

I love Ross MacDonald.The Chill was one of the best detective stories ever written.

I loved 'em all, but the Moving Target and The Zebra-Striped Hearse are both excellent as well. MacDonald was really an exceptional writer, and not just for the genre. Hammett and Chandler both paved the way, but MacDonald was better than either, in my opinion. Check out the films The Drowning Pool and Harper with Paul Newman. Harper was just the film name for Lew Archer.