Incomparably to the striking rose
The simplest hues together create
A magnificent arrangement of abyss
From the shattered shore the sparkling crystal
Blanket roars and crashes over and over,
Time and time again with enormous force
Yet it’s calm, exquisite, endless, warm, cold,
Openness is soothing and its own world
Left untouched we can not force it to move
In and out, back and forth, up and down it sways
Where it starts, I sit and wonder how it breathes
So full of life that we can not see or hear
On the shattered shore I sit with others
Staring, staring, staring and staring still
No one seems to look away, afraid to blink
What is there to miss? Nothing, nothing there
How can something with nothing be beautiful?
I sit in my half broken chair all day
Drinking my ice water, all day just watching
Scorched walking down shattered shells it hits me
Splash! Splash! Splash! Devouring my legs
So much more beautiful up close it looks
Small silver sparkles brushing past my feet
But no matter where I stand they don’t hit me
Swirling around my ankles so far from home
I look around and my chair is long gone
Like magic I am drifting through the hues
The sparkling crystals all around my body
How can anything be so beautiful?
It’s incomparably to the striking rose
Thursday, January 31, 2008
oh praise thy not so yellow brick road
To thine not so yellow brick road I praise
my seventeen year old road to thy first love
That dubious night time gleam from the lake
of which danced through his dark brown eyes
My head upon his heart hearing the beat
of the rythm to which his life exhaulted
His hands through my locks making waves
all through the inside of its deepest oceans
Upon that not so yellow brick road I praise
the dark dangling sky of which I could not
resist. Running with nothing but darkness ahead
my thoughts as empty as its magical hollowness.
Upon that dangling hollowness I praise that
squadron of starlets of which I made hasty
wishes of which evaporated into the nothingness
quaking from the reality of the situationos.
Upon that not so yellow brick road I praise
my swift steps into the purest of all worlds
Steps that beat my body down where not
even the Prefontaine could subdue with speed
And upon that not so yellow brick road I praise
the swelterous beaming rays of the sun which
soak me with persperous malouderousness
into which humidity sucketh all my electrolytes.
To thine not so yellow brick road I find lonliness
where I looked for the lake's ocean breeze and that
smell of his hair and the touch of those gazing browns
of which turned grey with seasons of time passing.
To thy yellow brick road paved with praise
that found me back into the arms of its' memory.
my seventeen year old road to thy first love
That dubious night time gleam from the lake
of which danced through his dark brown eyes
My head upon his heart hearing the beat
of the rythm to which his life exhaulted
His hands through my locks making waves
all through the inside of its deepest oceans
Upon that not so yellow brick road I praise
the dark dangling sky of which I could not
resist. Running with nothing but darkness ahead
my thoughts as empty as its magical hollowness.
Upon that dangling hollowness I praise that
squadron of starlets of which I made hasty
wishes of which evaporated into the nothingness
quaking from the reality of the situationos.
Upon that not so yellow brick road I praise
my swift steps into the purest of all worlds
Steps that beat my body down where not
even the Prefontaine could subdue with speed
And upon that not so yellow brick road I praise
the swelterous beaming rays of the sun which
soak me with persperous malouderousness
into which humidity sucketh all my electrolytes.
To thine not so yellow brick road I find lonliness
where I looked for the lake's ocean breeze and that
smell of his hair and the touch of those gazing browns
of which turned grey with seasons of time passing.
To thy yellow brick road paved with praise
that found me back into the arms of its' memory.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
For "Veritas," for Wednesday, and an Eatable Saturday
Okay, well, you said we could post things on Wednesdays, Gabe, so here I go.
Something old (1):
i am to write a poem
a poem of intent
kissed once on the bottom lip
thrice on the bottom lip
twice on the bottom lip
because you looked and were
sweet
and
sweetly disposed of
a poem of old letters
have folded you in three
that’s a tri-fold
slid you in a bubbled bit
of exacted paper
with my last pack of lights (2)
and sent you back to me
so that i may
miss
and then
not miss you
when i so choose
and please
a poem for the ages
or
for next week at least
Something new (3):
To be composed entirely of words-
Of gerunds fit for more discerning hearts-
Has halved me, wholed me, cut me into thirds
Of self composure’s few remaining parts.
A filled, flawed glass, for certain, poet, dear,
For never saw I fact drip from your pen;
Yet “Veritas”(4) you print above that mirror
And hold me steady fore it once again.
And yet I see not in this papered view
My mouth, honey-drenched, peaking at the tips,
But rather see my tongue, sutured anew,
With metaphysics strung between my lips.
But then, I sigh, while sipping at some tea,
I think I suit this better than would she.
Something borrowed (5):
life is tangible
life is tangerine
so you can chew the fucking air if you want to
and you can tear a letter up
and you can tear a letter down
and you can tell someone to go fuck themselves
or their father
or you can do that for them.
and you can tell that there’s still
boysenberry sorbet on the sidewalk
except now it’s a little less blue and a little more
art nouveau.
and you can't put your hand on that stranger's ass
but you can feel up his car's ass
when he isn't looking
and the car won't mind
but it won't fondle back, either.
oh, we sacrifice, we do.
and you can thank your mother for her ring
but you can’t mean it.
also, you can’t sleep in.
your father has a busy day tomorrow
cleaning sidewalks
and other things
and can’t be bothered
to wake you up
or down.
(1): Written May, 2007
(2): Parliament Lights
(3): Written yesterday, 2008
(4): Latin for "I'd like to see you naked"
(5): Borrowed from Jack Kerouac
(6): Not so much "blue" or "art nouveau" as confusing
Harumph. 3 me, 1 I wish I could take out to coffee.
Now, Saturday's post, since I can't do anything but edit my posts right now.
Thus, boredom bears down like a weighted bog
And renders all my musings useless waste;
My stylus taps and taps and taps again
In vacant hopes of some tremendous thought.
So setting my pen down, and sighing deep,
My body wills itself into my bed,
Then reaching, half bemused and half distraught,
My hand, which, under great duress from self,
Does find my gray remote, remotely hid,
And beareth down upon the top button.
To soul’s delight, and to my own as well,
A large “40” appears atop the screen!-
And Giada De Laurentiis smiles wide-
And grills that garlic clove in seconds flat-
Then places it above a roasted duck,
Then adds it to a chopper filled with greens
And grinds (with purpose) till the mess is smooth,
Then heats it, salts it, serves it on a bun.
And though it’s been a year since I’ve had meat,
And many more since I have eaten duck,
My mouth begins to drip and droop and smack;
And so with teeth a-grinding, eyes aglow,
I ravenously raid my small, cold store,
And munching celery, return again
To watch, intent, this heavenly display.
For dieting eats not just at your waist,
But, rather, also at your weakened soul;
Therefore my salvation is Food Network,
And, till this bulge is lost, will remain such.
I've never had much taste for religion,
But should this lull e'er turn to hungered lust
I'll bow before the basil-lighted screen
And proclaim "Worship food porn," ever more.
Something old (1):
i am to write a poem
a poem of intent
kissed once on the bottom lip
thrice on the bottom lip
twice on the bottom lip
because you looked and were
sweet
and
sweetly disposed of
a poem of old letters
have folded you in three
that’s a tri-fold
slid you in a bubbled bit
of exacted paper
with my last pack of lights (2)
and sent you back to me
so that i may
miss
and then
not miss you
when i so choose
and please
a poem for the ages
or
for next week at least
Something new (3):
To be composed entirely of words-
Of gerunds fit for more discerning hearts-
Has halved me, wholed me, cut me into thirds
Of self composure’s few remaining parts.
A filled, flawed glass, for certain, poet, dear,
For never saw I fact drip from your pen;
Yet “Veritas”(4) you print above that mirror
And hold me steady fore it once again.
And yet I see not in this papered view
My mouth, honey-drenched, peaking at the tips,
But rather see my tongue, sutured anew,
With metaphysics strung between my lips.
But then, I sigh, while sipping at some tea,
I think I suit this better than would she.
Something borrowed (5):
You gets your just dues in
Heaven--------Heaven'll
Be indifferent to this
Indifferent dog(Yet, honest indifference
were better than cant) …really When I hear pious
Bullshit about Justice
& Democracy and I know
the hypocrites are lying
in their false teethI'm not indifferent to God
I'm indifferent to
me-on-earth I cant think of anything
More ridiculous than me
On earth -
Really!Something blue (6):life is tangible
life is tangerine
so you can chew the fucking air if you want to
and you can tear a letter up
and you can tear a letter down
and you can tell someone to go fuck themselves
or their father
or you can do that for them.
and you can tell that there’s still
boysenberry sorbet on the sidewalk
except now it’s a little less blue and a little more
art nouveau.
and you can't put your hand on that stranger's ass
but you can feel up his car's ass
when he isn't looking
and the car won't mind
but it won't fondle back, either.
oh, we sacrifice, we do.
and you can thank your mother for her ring
but you can’t mean it.
also, you can’t sleep in.
your father has a busy day tomorrow
cleaning sidewalks
and other things
and can’t be bothered
to wake you up
or down.
(1): Written May, 2007
(2): Parliament Lights
(3): Written yesterday, 2008
(4): Latin for "I'd like to see you naked"
(5): Borrowed from Jack Kerouac
(6): Not so much "blue" or "art nouveau" as confusing
Harumph. 3 me, 1 I wish I could take out to coffee.
Now, Saturday's post, since I can't do anything but edit my posts right now.
Thus, boredom bears down like a weighted bog
And renders all my musings useless waste;
My stylus taps and taps and taps again
In vacant hopes of some tremendous thought.
So setting my pen down, and sighing deep,
My body wills itself into my bed,
Then reaching, half bemused and half distraught,
My hand, which, under great duress from self,
Does find my gray remote, remotely hid,
And beareth down upon the top button.
To soul’s delight, and to my own as well,
A large “40” appears atop the screen!-
And Giada De Laurentiis smiles wide-
And grills that garlic clove in seconds flat-
Then places it above a roasted duck,
Then adds it to a chopper filled with greens
And grinds (with purpose) till the mess is smooth,
Then heats it, salts it, serves it on a bun.
And though it’s been a year since I’ve had meat,
And many more since I have eaten duck,
My mouth begins to drip and droop and smack;
And so with teeth a-grinding, eyes aglow,
I ravenously raid my small, cold store,
And munching celery, return again
To watch, intent, this heavenly display.
For dieting eats not just at your waist,
But, rather, also at your weakened soul;
Therefore my salvation is Food Network,
And, till this bulge is lost, will remain such.
I've never had much taste for religion,
But should this lull e'er turn to hungered lust
I'll bow before the basil-lighted screen
And proclaim "Worship food porn," ever more.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Vanity
Now, when I walked into the valley of
The vain, I found an old acquaintance
Of mine who I also jeered and despised
Monsieur le Cochon was still all about himself
Standing in front of a mirror talking
To the wretched reflection that was he
And when I looked to the left of him
There stood the Lady Truhillo, having
something other than her own ego shoved
up her tight ass: ‘twas her face covered
in shit, vile chile con carne spew’d
out her mouth as always and onto Monsieur
Who danced for himself and flattered himself
while A serpent—and it had six feet—shot up
And hooked one of these wretches with all six
With the middle feet it hugged the asshole’s stomach
And with the front ones, grabbed him by the arms,
And bit him first through one cheek, then the other.
And to the right of Lady and Monsieur
Stood Sister Megan with green teeth eating
A pile of dog shit and preaching how
G-d chose her to teach me a lesson ‘bout
How I should be; at this, the serpent darts
For her neck and tears out her unholy guts
And Lady throws some of her own excrement
Onto the steaming pile of Nun-shit
While Monsieur ignores all but himself
Bugs creeping over his body and
Eating his flesh. Devils come and force a
Large potato covered in spikes down his throat
But Monsieur still compliments.
on Inferno being a political text:
I think Inferno may be a political text since Dante used his religious beliefs to cast down any of his political enemies.
I was also thinking about how the Church would have reacted to this book: considering what I have studied about the goings on in the history of the Church, the Middle ages and the renaissance period (600-1517) was when all the injustecies started to become most apparent. So, if the Pope could have made his horse a saint and there would not have been any question of it, who is to say that there could have been such a large reaction to an author who wants to damn his enemies to hell? The Church was rilly, rilly, rilly fucked up back then (and still is), and there may have been some belief in Predestination them. But who knows? I'm a little rusty on my Church History, but that's what I remember from Catholic schools.
The vain, I found an old acquaintance
Of mine who I also jeered and despised
Monsieur le Cochon was still all about himself
Standing in front of a mirror talking
To the wretched reflection that was he
And when I looked to the left of him
There stood the Lady Truhillo, having
something other than her own ego shoved
up her tight ass: ‘twas her face covered
in shit, vile chile con carne spew’d
out her mouth as always and onto Monsieur
Who danced for himself and flattered himself
while A serpent—and it had six feet—shot up
And hooked one of these wretches with all six
With the middle feet it hugged the asshole’s stomach
And with the front ones, grabbed him by the arms,
And bit him first through one cheek, then the other.
And to the right of Lady and Monsieur
Stood Sister Megan with green teeth eating
A pile of dog shit and preaching how
G-d chose her to teach me a lesson ‘bout
How I should be; at this, the serpent darts
For her neck and tears out her unholy guts
And Lady throws some of her own excrement
Onto the steaming pile of Nun-shit
While Monsieur ignores all but himself
Bugs creeping over his body and
Eating his flesh. Devils come and force a
Large potato covered in spikes down his throat
But Monsieur still compliments.
on Inferno being a political text:
I think Inferno may be a political text since Dante used his religious beliefs to cast down any of his political enemies.
I was also thinking about how the Church would have reacted to this book: considering what I have studied about the goings on in the history of the Church, the Middle ages and the renaissance period (600-1517) was when all the injustecies started to become most apparent. So, if the Pope could have made his horse a saint and there would not have been any question of it, who is to say that there could have been such a large reaction to an author who wants to damn his enemies to hell? The Church was rilly, rilly, rilly fucked up back then (and still is), and there may have been some belief in Predestination them. But who knows? I'm a little rusty on my Church History, but that's what I remember from Catholic schools.
Master of all, subject to His device
Found that he could no longer run away.
And from his throne He was cast below.
For hoarding His standard from all the earth,
Save the wandering, homeless desert tribes+,
The fourth circle will be the first demise.
Irresponsibility supercedes
His enlarged and false vanity.
There's a place for god in all circles.
As the Almighty is indisposéd
The demons began to accept their existence
And rethink their unjust fate.
'Infinite punishment for finite infraction'
Judged as wrong by the Courts of the Damned.
And a new flame of hope immolated.
Torture remains out of necessity
But only for 35 hours a week.
And Hell adopts universal health care.
No longer would the terrible tyrant
Segregate the impure from life's pleasures.
And thus, sinners of the world unite!*
+A reference to the twelve tribes of Israel
*A reference to Marx
Did the notion of eternal punishment puzzle the minds of anyone?
Eternity is a long time, and such a claim follows the logic of betting someone a "million-bajillion" dollars. Eternity and "million-bajillion" are figures that are unfathomable to the human mind. If an individual sins (or errs in some way), they must understand their 'sin' in order to be punished justly. Therefore, their punishment must be understandable in order to be just.
Found that he could no longer run away.
And from his throne He was cast below.
For hoarding His standard from all the earth,
Save the wandering, homeless desert tribes+,
The fourth circle will be the first demise.
Irresponsibility supercedes
His enlarged and false vanity.
There's a place for god in all circles.
As the Almighty is indisposéd
The demons began to accept their existence
And rethink their unjust fate.
'Infinite punishment for finite infraction'
Judged as wrong by the Courts of the Damned.
And a new flame of hope immolated.
Torture remains out of necessity
But only for 35 hours a week.
And Hell adopts universal health care.
No longer would the terrible tyrant
Segregate the impure from life's pleasures.
And thus, sinners of the world unite!*
+A reference to the twelve tribes of Israel
*A reference to Marx
Did the notion of eternal punishment puzzle the minds of anyone?
Eternity is a long time, and such a claim follows the logic of betting someone a "million-bajillion" dollars. Eternity and "million-bajillion" are figures that are unfathomable to the human mind. If an individual sins (or errs in some way), they must understand their 'sin' in order to be punished justly. Therefore, their punishment must be understandable in order to be just.
Regarding the Whereabouts of Kenneth Lay...
This is an addition to Canto XXII, and can be placed at the very end.
When the Malebranche returned the Narravese did not
accompany them, instead faces that expressed
indescribable pain of two new to the travelers
One was deeply charred from the boiling tar pits
below, while the other kept his lively state.
deep-fried man into segments and fed them to the
one who had been spared the Ketucky Fried Treatment.
men in the room, and to fill our stomachs with
our bodies built of lies is just.” He then
of his business partner. Almost immediately
a rancid black bile poured out of the man's
bunghole. Using his robe to mask the vile odor,
the Pilgrim approached the man and demanded he
share his name if he desired to be famous
on the surface. The man cried as turned to look
at what were now the remains of his digested
partner and said, "My name is Jeffery Skilling,
daily forecasts: always cloudy with inexplicable
pain. Now leave me and the runny remains
of my friend rest in peace." To that, he fell
and lathered himself in the fecal remnants
of his disposed friend. We quickly left.
___________________________________________________________________
Question: If Dante lived now, and decided to again write about Muhammad being in Hell, would a fatwa have been placed on his life? Likelihood of someone fulfilling a mufti's request?
Answer: With Wikipedia proving yet again to be one of the most helpful of sources, it discusses at length that Dante would have been revered to a degree in the Muslim world for apparently having constructed a version of Hell that was accessible to both Christians and Muslims. Though there have been arguments against Dante's access to Muslim texts that would have helped him construct such a universe, according to sources, such as Maria Corti who was an Italian philologist, that there were Muslim texts that had been translated into Italian during the 12th century, resulting in their availability to Dante. So, since his work has been considered acceptable by Muslim's, it is unlikely that a mufti would have asked for Dante's life to be taken, and even if he had, its doubtful that he would have been killed as a result. I mean, if Salman Rushdie has survived his fatwa, I think Dante could as well.
Further Punishment for the False Prophets
Please insert this in Canto XX, between lines 24 and 25.
As I looked upon these poor twisted souls,
I could only wonder what could have caused
their spines to become as wrapped as a spring.
As I pondered the dilemma I heard
the most sickening sound that has ever fallen
upon these still suffering ears of mine.
In order to see what could have caused such
a terrible sound, I nearly forced my
neck to match the surrounding wretched shades.
Souls were constantly being hurled nearby
(as sinners are always judged by Minos)
and lined up with zeal before what awaited.
My view was obstructed from the point where
all of the damnéd souls were set to see
only what lay behind, never ahead.
My interest was terribly peaked and I
quickly ran to where the terrible deed
of spine setting was put into effect.
Oh the horror of what I saw makes me
cringe to this day, and I learned only the
fearsome roundhouse of Chuck could hit so hard.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Question: What did Dante do in life after writing "The Divine Comedy?"
According to Wikipedia, it seems Dante couldn't have done much between the time he completed "The Divine Comedy" and the time he (probably) died of malaria. Wikipedia proposes he may have contracted malaria in Venice while carrying out a diplomatic mission.
The tale of Dante's remains are more interesting, however. He was originally buried in Ravenna, where he had lived out the last few years of his life under the protection of Prince Guido Novello da Polenta. Florence, Dante's beloved hometown, realized how important Dante had become and built a shrine for his body, requesting it be returned. His bones remain in Ravenna to this day.
-Tristan Glazebrook
(nom de guerre of kyle simkins)
As I looked upon these poor twisted souls,
I could only wonder what could have caused
their spines to become as wrapped as a spring.
As I pondered the dilemma I heard
the most sickening sound that has ever fallen
upon these still suffering ears of mine.
In order to see what could have caused such
a terrible sound, I nearly forced my
neck to match the surrounding wretched shades.
Souls were constantly being hurled nearby
(as sinners are always judged by Minos)
and lined up with zeal before what awaited.
My view was obstructed from the point where
all of the damnéd souls were set to see
only what lay behind, never ahead.
My interest was terribly peaked and I
quickly ran to where the terrible deed
of spine setting was put into effect.
Oh the horror of what I saw makes me
cringe to this day, and I learned only the
fearsome roundhouse of Chuck could hit so hard.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Question: What did Dante do in life after writing "The Divine Comedy?"
According to Wikipedia, it seems Dante couldn't have done much between the time he completed "The Divine Comedy" and the time he (probably) died of malaria. Wikipedia proposes he may have contracted malaria in Venice while carrying out a diplomatic mission.
The tale of Dante's remains are more interesting, however. He was originally buried in Ravenna, where he had lived out the last few years of his life under the protection of Prince Guido Novello da Polenta. Florence, Dante's beloved hometown, realized how important Dante had become and built a shrine for his body, requesting it be returned. His bones remain in Ravenna to this day.
-Tristan Glazebrook
(nom de guerre of kyle simkins)
Canto XXIII, starting after line 126…
Behind the road lined with those crucified souls
my tired eyes saw what looked to be a gleaming
maze stretching for miles around the malebolge.
My guide encouraged me to take a closer look.
What I saw set me in fear for every judgment
that ever came through my lips against another man.
A maze it was, of cracked and broken mirrors.[1]
Behind each pane of glass there sat a soul
who in life was guilty of hypocrisy.
Here I came upon a soul I knew above, in life.[2]
He sat upon a wooden beam like a chair,
except spikes held his thighs in place eternally.
Spewing from his lips by divine force were
words of hate and self-degradation once aimed
at another, but for which the sinner was also guilty.
Now piercing his own heart, the words of the past caused
a pain that resided in the shade that was
equally matched by the actions of the hands.
Each hand held a jagged shard of human bone[3]
which was thrust in and through the shade’s face till he
picked himself apart like he did to those above.
[1] Guilty of judging other, the sinner is forced to always look in the mirror to judge himself.
[2] An ex-friend, who will remain nameless, but who always made fun of/criticized other people for things he always did. It was really obnoxious.
[3] Actually, the person’s own bone, possibly picked from the pierced thigh.
My Question: Does The Inferno paint an accurate picture of what people of the time thought Hell was like?
Answer: After looking at a bunch of different sites on wikipedia (medieval europe, hell, etc.) it seems like it would have been completely accepted by the people of the time because all they heard about was Hell being torturous and one wrong step away. Most descriptions come from texts like Dante's, so it's hard to know how history has been skewed by what he wrote.
~Rachael Jones
Behind the road lined with those crucified souls
my tired eyes saw what looked to be a gleaming
maze stretching for miles around the malebolge.
My guide encouraged me to take a closer look.
What I saw set me in fear for every judgment
that ever came through my lips against another man.
A maze it was, of cracked and broken mirrors.[1]
Behind each pane of glass there sat a soul
who in life was guilty of hypocrisy.
Here I came upon a soul I knew above, in life.[2]
He sat upon a wooden beam like a chair,
except spikes held his thighs in place eternally.
Spewing from his lips by divine force were
words of hate and self-degradation once aimed
at another, but for which the sinner was also guilty.
Now piercing his own heart, the words of the past caused
a pain that resided in the shade that was
equally matched by the actions of the hands.
Each hand held a jagged shard of human bone[3]
which was thrust in and through the shade’s face till he
picked himself apart like he did to those above.
[1] Guilty of judging other, the sinner is forced to always look in the mirror to judge himself.
[2] An ex-friend, who will remain nameless, but who always made fun of/criticized other people for things he always did. It was really obnoxious.
[3] Actually, the person’s own bone, possibly picked from the pierced thigh.
My Question: Does The Inferno paint an accurate picture of what people of the time thought Hell was like?
Answer: After looking at a bunch of different sites on wikipedia (medieval europe, hell, etc.) it seems like it would have been completely accepted by the people of the time because all they heard about was Hell being torturous and one wrong step away. Most descriptions come from texts like Dante's, so it's hard to know how history has been skewed by what he wrote.
~Rachael Jones
Women Seek Their Revenge
Authors Note: I found this assignment really challenging because the entire idea made me uncomfortable. It was hard for me to sit down and think in this way, and I apologize if it doens't make sense because I was just trying to get something down.
The man continued walking up to the
main plateau and stood in front of the crowd
of beautiful women, eyed opened wide
The wretched beast ripped the man of his clothing
the beautiful women began reading
the list of sins the men had committed
Adultery was first, oblivious wives
read aloud the punishment they wished on
the men they had slaved for year after year
“Break his three lower ribs and extend his
neck so he may feel what it is to choke,
strong heavy hands never letting him up.”
Abusers were next, pathetic whores read
the verses of their stories ending in blood
upon their broken lips and between their legs
“Push him flat, against a bed of nails and
Sharpen a razor thin to place within
The small hole from which he relieves himself.”
I could not bare to watch as the main screamed
hands tied, with no chance to defend himself
tears fell from my eyes with pity and shame .
67-69
I felt like I needed to have the man going somewhere.
70-72
I wanted the men to be naked so they would know what it feels like to stand in front of a crowd of the opposite sex with nothing to hide. They had so much to hide in their previous life, why should they be able to do that here?
73-75
I felt like the women needed to get back, but in reality it wasn't really the woman they had betrayed. I was really struggling, I guess for me it was a way for me to get back at a man who had betrayed me. I think after everything they had put the woman through, she should get a chance to seek her revenge hypthetically
76-78
It was really hard for me to write such a pervertedthing, but it something I think men fail to realize. And this entire part, for me, is about how men didn't realize what they were doing was wrong, so therefor they should have to experience it.
79-81
The whores that were sold by the pimps, I tried to make a connection between the actual poem and my additions.
82-84
A man doesn't know what its like to be raped, I figured I'd like to mimic what women go through along with loss of pride.
More Violence Against Nature...
Cantos XIV (Circle 7:3)
Beginning after line 129
My Master and I came next to a place
of blasphemous sins against nature
where cries of the punished echoed below.
Ever cautious we descended further
the first that I did see was an ugly man1
covered in lime2, all his hair singed off.
Clamped on each of his feet rests a bear trap3
his attempts to flee the arrows and bullets
from demons fail, but they kill him not yet
for after laying in agony, letting
his heart leak out every final drop (as
he had to God’s creatures explains Virgil).
Once his heart ceases, demons cut off
his head, mounting it, watching his body
become the hunted by the demons.
And so past the ugly man was a sight far
too disgusting for the eyes, I turned
quickly away, averting my gaze.
Virgil comforted me saying: ‘Do not
turn your face in disgust, you must ask her
first what she has done.’ Following my master,
I turned facing her, all that was exposed
was raw muscle and partial bone; her skin
lay piled next to her. Walking closer
I saw hunched over more like her sewing
their skin together, though seeming to feel
every stitch4. Naturally I questioned
the woman. Adriana5 was her name
and she spoke of her sin of wearing the
skin of others to which this is now her
lasting punishment. I replied of course
without pity to which Virgil and I
carried onward down through the circles of hell.
1 Mainly sports hunters and recreational hunters included in this category (Note that they are not always men).
2Sinner is dumped into a large lime pit, which is used to melt the hair off hides in the process of making leather.
3Bear trap is commonly used in hunting to trap larger animal, it clamps down on the victim with extreme force and does not come released.
4Although their skin has been stripped off of them, they still have connection to their skin through touch, thus when they must sew their skin together, creating the fashions that they wore in other skins, they feel every pain.
5Adriana of Adriana Furs and all other fur-wearing people included.
Question:
How many years did it take for Dante to finish this trilogy?
Between 1308-1321
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Divine_Comedy
Beginning after line 129
My Master and I came next to a place
of blasphemous sins against nature
where cries of the punished echoed below.
Ever cautious we descended further
the first that I did see was an ugly man1
covered in lime2, all his hair singed off.
Clamped on each of his feet rests a bear trap3
his attempts to flee the arrows and bullets
from demons fail, but they kill him not yet
for after laying in agony, letting
his heart leak out every final drop (as
he had to God’s creatures explains Virgil).
Once his heart ceases, demons cut off
his head, mounting it, watching his body
become the hunted by the demons.
And so past the ugly man was a sight far
too disgusting for the eyes, I turned
quickly away, averting my gaze.
Virgil comforted me saying: ‘Do not
turn your face in disgust, you must ask her
first what she has done.’ Following my master,
I turned facing her, all that was exposed
was raw muscle and partial bone; her skin
lay piled next to her. Walking closer
I saw hunched over more like her sewing
their skin together, though seeming to feel
every stitch4. Naturally I questioned
the woman. Adriana5 was her name
and she spoke of her sin of wearing the
skin of others to which this is now her
lasting punishment. I replied of course
without pity to which Virgil and I
carried onward down through the circles of hell.
1 Mainly sports hunters and recreational hunters included in this category (Note that they are not always men).
2Sinner is dumped into a large lime pit, which is used to melt the hair off hides in the process of making leather.
3Bear trap is commonly used in hunting to trap larger animal, it clamps down on the victim with extreme force and does not come released.
4Although their skin has been stripped off of them, they still have connection to their skin through touch, thus when they must sew their skin together, creating the fashions that they wore in other skins, they feel every pain.
5Adriana of Adriana Furs and all other fur-wearing people included.
Question:
How many years did it take for Dante to finish this trilogy?
Between 1308-1321
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Divine_Comedy
A Pass to to the Right
following the 9th canto and into the 10th...
Passing to the right I heard screams unearthly
A trail of blood ribboned with white could guide me
Approaching a stank of festering bodies
I saw low hanging trees dripping with seed[1]
Men hung from their purses and screamed to the heavens
While small hellish beetles feast on their bowls and ankles
There eyes sockets are empty and their ears are long gone
Not even lips protect their gnarly teeth
One man swung arms inches from earth
I looked close at his face and saw his foul mouth
I spoke, “You Malijeski, who abuses your kin
Speak now what you’ve learned from rotting within.”[2]
He opened his mouth but spoke no words
Only puss and beetles poured out of his hole
Those men dangling higher dripped shit on his face
They fall one at a time taking limbs as they go
Looking up at the tree of Mazikanes and Motshegwas[3]
I feel no pity in seeing them ripped in half at the crack
Their limbs hit first then their innards and brains
Their member stays dangling from thorny branches and waits
They scream and claw and bubble under tar
Until the screaming stops and a criada[4] appears
Her arms were burned black, her face I could not see
Reaching in tar she found a piece of the man
By her making a doll the man reappeared on a branch
It seemed lower than before and his eyes were stark white
I had many questions but did not interfere
She waited for the rain of another man to wake him[5]
We saw a bloody mix hit his face and come screaming alive
He squirmed and shrilled and looked around at his hell
The women flew from her spot and sewed up his manhood
Jabbing at him I sensed pleasure in her task
The needle glistened from were we watched
As she fastened himself to his legs and his rope[6]
My guide pushed me to press on so I obeyed
I was scared now to see women who reflected the deeds
If they hang from their wombs I will not be surprised
But I pray these passings have made me the wiser.
[1] Referencing a man's seed; his semen.
[2] Malijeski raped and killed his wife and children, upon being seized showed no remorse.
[3] Lazarus Mazikane and Kaizer Motshegwa are responsible for the rape and murder of 53 girls.
[4] Spanish; a maid, specifically of the underworld.
[5] Only dripping piss, shit or semen from another man will wake him up.
[6] Stitched his testicles to his legs.
Question: Why did they turn to the right at the end of the 9th canto when in all other cantos they turn to the left?
I can only guess that since they are leaving the realm of incontinent sins and proceeding to violent sins that they change their direction as the severity of the sins increase. These sins also begin to involve harm against others directly.
Passing to the right I heard screams unearthly
A trail of blood ribboned with white could guide me
Approaching a stank of festering bodies
I saw low hanging trees dripping with seed[1]
Men hung from their purses and screamed to the heavens
While small hellish beetles feast on their bowls and ankles
There eyes sockets are empty and their ears are long gone
Not even lips protect their gnarly teeth
One man swung arms inches from earth
I looked close at his face and saw his foul mouth
I spoke, “You Malijeski, who abuses your kin
Speak now what you’ve learned from rotting within.”[2]
He opened his mouth but spoke no words
Only puss and beetles poured out of his hole
Those men dangling higher dripped shit on his face
They fall one at a time taking limbs as they go
Looking up at the tree of Mazikanes and Motshegwas[3]
I feel no pity in seeing them ripped in half at the crack
Their limbs hit first then their innards and brains
Their member stays dangling from thorny branches and waits
They scream and claw and bubble under tar
Until the screaming stops and a criada[4] appears
Her arms were burned black, her face I could not see
Reaching in tar she found a piece of the man
By her making a doll the man reappeared on a branch
It seemed lower than before and his eyes were stark white
I had many questions but did not interfere
She waited for the rain of another man to wake him[5]
We saw a bloody mix hit his face and come screaming alive
He squirmed and shrilled and looked around at his hell
The women flew from her spot and sewed up his manhood
Jabbing at him I sensed pleasure in her task
The needle glistened from were we watched
As she fastened himself to his legs and his rope[6]
My guide pushed me to press on so I obeyed
I was scared now to see women who reflected the deeds
If they hang from their wombs I will not be surprised
But I pray these passings have made me the wiser.
[1] Referencing a man's seed; his semen.
[2] Malijeski raped and killed his wife and children, upon being seized showed no remorse.
[3] Lazarus Mazikane and Kaizer Motshegwa are responsible for the rape and murder of 53 girls.
[4] Spanish; a maid, specifically of the underworld.
[5] Only dripping piss, shit or semen from another man will wake him up.
[6] Stitched his testicles to his legs.
Question: Why did they turn to the right at the end of the 9th canto when in all other cantos they turn to the left?
I can only guess that since they are leaving the realm of incontinent sins and proceeding to violent sins that they change their direction as the severity of the sins increase. These sins also begin to involve harm against others directly.
The Old Man and 7th Circle of Hell
The Lost Generation dwells in Limbo,
But one member lays six circles lower:
Ernest Hemingway shotgunned his own face.
Unlike other suiciders in Hell,
Hemingway is not just a simple bush.
He’s a tree with personal lumberjacks.
Jake Barnes, Robert Jordan, Santiago,
And Frederick Henry (1) all have chainsaws,
Hacking branches and cutting into bark.
He bleeds searing acid onto himself
And re-grows lost limbs and his gaping trunk,
As his body is turned into splinters.
Hatefully, his own offspring punish him,
Returning the pain they had in paper
Which was derived from his life before Hell.
Old man Santiago saw me watching
And gave me a box of matches to help
The deforestation of Hemingway.
We heard his abusers piss out the flames
As we left the Seventh circle of Hell.
Footnotes:
1. These characters are the male protagonists from Hemingway's most popular novels: The Sun Also Rises, For Whom the Bell Tolls, The Old Man and the Sea, and A Farewell to Arms
My question was: Is there an original manuscript of Dante’s Divine Comedy since the printing press was yet to be invented (1440)?
Answer according to Wikipedia: There are no original manuscripts of the Divine Comedy left, but there are many manuscript copies that were made in the 14th and 15th century.
NPR gets the Sixth Circle...
From Canto XIV, before the burning sand, Virgil speaking to the Pilgrim…
“…to go on scorning God and treat him lightly,
But, as I said to him, he decks his chest
With ornaments of lavish words that prick him. (end Dante)
Behold, one that is there on the sands’ edge
Whose sins were needless pæans to a false god
For here lie the aggravating in torment.” (1)
And I, noticing the poor man reading
In words pained and unrecognizable (2)
From a thorn’d book piercing him bodily,
Said: “Master, may I ask this wretch’s name?”
Upon which the sinner raised his lidless eye
And spoke: “gaxlvs so prsclecatchvined.”
My Master, aware of my confusion,
Said: “This one held a great nation in pain (3)
With the atrocious sound of his speaking.
His tone was grating and harsh to the ear
And now his book splits his organs crosswise,
To and fro, each utterance brings more pain.
Ever onward he must read to no one and
Hear not the wreck’d song he labors to sing.
And solace in letters finds him not glad.”
Upon hearing my Master’s wisdom in
Words of truth I knew this man from his life
And I, too, remembered the tort’rous song. (4)
1. Dante places the “aggravating” in the Sixth Circle as a way of suggesting that man can only tolerate so much. It was a widely held belief in the 14th century that one must be sensitive to the unspoken agony of others in deed and conversation. Hence, Dante places their sins among the violent for subjective reasons, believing violence to have been perpetrated upon himself in the manner suggested here.
2. The literal translation from the Italian is “the absurd shit spouted painfully,” which has been altered here due to syntactical necessity.
3. The United States circa 20th century.
4. Dick Estelle was the host of NPR’s “The Radio Reader” for many years. Listeners often remarked on the monotonous tone adopted in his performance and his early passing was met with gratitude throughout the listening populace. It is unknown how Dante would have heard Estelle’s program as there is four century discrepancy in the timeline.
My question was whether or not Dante's ancestors could be sued for defamation by the libel directed toward certain families in "The Inferno." I was unsure if historical defamation could carry over into modern times, as surely Dante has ruined a few and sundry familial names.
I have since discovered that this cannot occur due to the difficulty in determing lineage and intermarriage. No one has won a case issued from so far in the past...but it's been attempted.
“…to go on scorning God and treat him lightly,
But, as I said to him, he decks his chest
With ornaments of lavish words that prick him. (end Dante)
Behold, one that is there on the sands’ edge
Whose sins were needless pæans to a false god
For here lie the aggravating in torment.” (1)
And I, noticing the poor man reading
In words pained and unrecognizable (2)
From a thorn’d book piercing him bodily,
Said: “Master, may I ask this wretch’s name?”
Upon which the sinner raised his lidless eye
And spoke: “gaxlvs so prsclecatchvined.”
My Master, aware of my confusion,
Said: “This one held a great nation in pain (3)
With the atrocious sound of his speaking.
His tone was grating and harsh to the ear
And now his book splits his organs crosswise,
To and fro, each utterance brings more pain.
Ever onward he must read to no one and
Hear not the wreck’d song he labors to sing.
And solace in letters finds him not glad.”
Upon hearing my Master’s wisdom in
Words of truth I knew this man from his life
And I, too, remembered the tort’rous song. (4)
1. Dante places the “aggravating” in the Sixth Circle as a way of suggesting that man can only tolerate so much. It was a widely held belief in the 14th century that one must be sensitive to the unspoken agony of others in deed and conversation. Hence, Dante places their sins among the violent for subjective reasons, believing violence to have been perpetrated upon himself in the manner suggested here.
2. The literal translation from the Italian is “the absurd shit spouted painfully,” which has been altered here due to syntactical necessity.
3. The United States circa 20th century.
4. Dick Estelle was the host of NPR’s “The Radio Reader” for many years. Listeners often remarked on the monotonous tone adopted in his performance and his early passing was met with gratitude throughout the listening populace. It is unknown how Dante would have heard Estelle’s program as there is four century discrepancy in the timeline.
My question was whether or not Dante's ancestors could be sued for defamation by the libel directed toward certain families in "The Inferno." I was unsure if historical defamation could carry over into modern times, as surely Dante has ruined a few and sundry familial names.
I have since discovered that this cannot occur due to the difficulty in determing lineage and intermarriage. No one has won a case issued from so far in the past...but it's been attempted.
An Inconvenient Truth for Dan Brown
This would be an alternate ending:
“Since I am the knower of all things God
And that Virgil was merely a buffoon
I shall be taking his place as your guide.”
“O wise Dan Brown who stand’th before me (1)
Please show me the end of this hell I see
And carry me out to the other side.”
And so the famed proset did’st lead me on (2)
Across the lake of ice and to Lucifer
We walked—him just two steps ahead of me.
As we reached the dark red angel who fell’d,
Down from the very sacred clouds of Heav’n.
Not for his pride or insubordination—
But for his consumption from Heaven’s garden
The hallowed jalapeño peppers of God—
Intended for His mouth and His alone.
And for eternity leaked from Satan’s rear,
A red-yellow stew that carved through his skin
And flesh until his colon hung open.
Beneath this cursed stream of bubbling grease
Lie Judas Iscariot and Al Gore,
With their mouths pried open by crawling spiders.
As Satan’s taint poured into their wide jaws,
They were forced to swallow or suffocate.
When the two forced the spoiled excrement down,
With it came the spiders scratching and biting
Their way through the throats of the greatest sinners.
“Oh guide please, I can take no more,” I spoke.
“Then let us leave,” he said confidently.
“There’s one more thing my brave leader,” I said.
“Speak underling,” he spoke with some disdain.
“You suck!” I shouted and pushed him forcefully.
Backwards he tumbled and tripped falling down—
Into the black fecal pool of Satan’s gut.
He screamed and writhed in that eternal cess.
I smiled and began to climb past Satan’s legs
And up through the earth into the stars above.
(1) - Dan Brown, one of the world's most renown authors and if he hasn't been already (which he probably has), he should be considered for sainthood.
(2) - proset = a poet of prose.
My question: How was Dante's Inferno (and I suppose his Divine Comedy as whole) received by a mass populace?
Answer: Very well in the centuries after it's publication, and then forgotten during the Enlightenment, and then afterwards fell into favor again. Thank you Wikipedia.
“Since I am the knower of all things God
And that Virgil was merely a buffoon
I shall be taking his place as your guide.”
“O wise Dan Brown who stand’th before me (1)
Please show me the end of this hell I see
And carry me out to the other side.”
And so the famed proset did’st lead me on (2)
Across the lake of ice and to Lucifer
We walked—him just two steps ahead of me.
As we reached the dark red angel who fell’d,
Down from the very sacred clouds of Heav’n.
Not for his pride or insubordination—
But for his consumption from Heaven’s garden
The hallowed jalapeño peppers of God—
Intended for His mouth and His alone.
And for eternity leaked from Satan’s rear,
A red-yellow stew that carved through his skin
And flesh until his colon hung open.
Beneath this cursed stream of bubbling grease
Lie Judas Iscariot and Al Gore,
With their mouths pried open by crawling spiders.
As Satan’s taint poured into their wide jaws,
They were forced to swallow or suffocate.
When the two forced the spoiled excrement down,
With it came the spiders scratching and biting
Their way through the throats of the greatest sinners.
“Oh guide please, I can take no more,” I spoke.
“Then let us leave,” he said confidently.
“There’s one more thing my brave leader,” I said.
“Speak underling,” he spoke with some disdain.
“You suck!” I shouted and pushed him forcefully.
Backwards he tumbled and tripped falling down—
Into the black fecal pool of Satan’s gut.
He screamed and writhed in that eternal cess.
I smiled and began to climb past Satan’s legs
And up through the earth into the stars above.
(1) - Dan Brown, one of the world's most renown authors and if he hasn't been already (which he probably has), he should be considered for sainthood.
(2) - proset = a poet of prose.
My question: How was Dante's Inferno (and I suppose his Divine Comedy as whole) received by a mass populace?
Answer: Very well in the centuries after it's publication, and then forgotten during the Enlightenment, and then afterwards fell into favor again. Thank you Wikipedia.
The Third Circle
To be placed in Canto VI
The Third Circle; the Gluttonous;
We waded into the stench of roasted flesh
Whose bodies secrete such a smell I asked
These are the gluttonous he pointed
Their bodies laid out on the grill like dogs (1)
We approached a familiar face
His body bound by his own pubic hair
A blackened apple lodged in his throat
Plucked momentarily so he could speak
I’m Voltaire he spewed who consumed my status (2)
Obsessed with the food and drinks of a finer life
I let them feed my soul as now I am devoured
Enough! Shouted the demon, I am hungry
The beast shoved the rusted rod down
Scrapping his insides and spilling them out his ass
Plucked the berries from both heads to create a glaze (3)
Tore off his penis to fashion a goblet
Gagged by the blackened apple once again
Coated in the hell hound's saliva (4)
Hoisted up and rotated slowly
Skin scorched by flames until crispy and burnt
Peeled away to feed the eternal feast
1. All the people who are guilty of the sin of gluttony are laid out on a giant grill like hot dogs.
2. My friend's alternative name that he likes to use. often more concerned with money and what it can get you in life.
3. The eyes and the testicles are used for a glaze.
4. Cerberus watches over them and drools.
My Question-
I had always heard that Dante's Inferno was so good and was important for all English majors to read. So I was just kind of curious why this work was so important and what we were suppose to take away from reading it?
I tried a quick google search to find an answer but wikipedia has a nice description of it and some parts as to why it's important, "it is widely considered the central epic poem of Italian Literature, and is seen as one of the greatest works of world literature. The poem's imaginative vision of the Christian After Life is a culmination of the medieval world-view as it had developed in the Western Church. It helped establish the Tuscan dialect in which it is written as the Italian standard." http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Divine_Comedy
The Third Circle; the Gluttonous;
We waded into the stench of roasted flesh
Whose bodies secrete such a smell I asked
These are the gluttonous he pointed
Their bodies laid out on the grill like dogs (1)
We approached a familiar face
His body bound by his own pubic hair
A blackened apple lodged in his throat
Plucked momentarily so he could speak
I’m Voltaire he spewed who consumed my status (2)
Obsessed with the food and drinks of a finer life
I let them feed my soul as now I am devoured
Enough! Shouted the demon, I am hungry
The beast shoved the rusted rod down
Scrapping his insides and spilling them out his ass
Plucked the berries from both heads to create a glaze (3)
Tore off his penis to fashion a goblet
Gagged by the blackened apple once again
Coated in the hell hound's saliva (4)
Hoisted up and rotated slowly
Skin scorched by flames until crispy and burnt
Peeled away to feed the eternal feast
1. All the people who are guilty of the sin of gluttony are laid out on a giant grill like hot dogs.
2. My friend's alternative name that he likes to use. often more concerned with money and what it can get you in life.
3. The eyes and the testicles are used for a glaze.
4. Cerberus watches over them and drools.
My Question-
I had always heard that Dante's Inferno was so good and was important for all English majors to read. So I was just kind of curious why this work was so important and what we were suppose to take away from reading it?
I tried a quick google search to find an answer but wikipedia has a nice description of it and some parts as to why it's important, "it is widely considered the central epic poem of Italian Literature, and is seen as one of the greatest works of world literature. The poem's imaginative vision of the Christian After Life is a culmination of the medieval world-view as it had developed in the Western Church. It helped establish the Tuscan dialect in which it is written as the Italian standard." http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Divine_Comedy
A dinner in Dis
And so Dante steps through the city of Dis,
As to the question that i have: since the act of traveling through hell and seeing all of the sinners and sins had no effect on Dante, does this mean that even if we see our sins, we can not change ourselves?
empty save the fallen angels with barbed wings,
his guide dared not step forth through the gates.
“Go forth and meet me on the other side,” he shouted
“within these gate, a man shall seat you.”
No sooner had Vergil spoken was he gone.
Alone Dante trembled through the broken field
of Dis, the empty homes and markets, til the
city-square he found, shades sitting at an epic table.
A who-ic1 feast for the wicked, the 7002 decadent
beings sat, ready to be served. The maitre'd walked
to him, his right hand replaced with a boom stick3.
“good sir,” the man spoke, “i see you have found
our dinner. But this is not for you.” He smiled
with his arrogant little French mustache.
“no, monsieur, This is the table for televangelists.”
He smiled sweetly at them. “dinner is about to
be served.” So Dante watched the false pridets.
A black-robed tyrants cloth with radical agenda4
brought forth the sinful meal, born of the pride of
the men, no women for this crowd5, cocks to be served..
Stew appeared, born of bile from their molested,
and shit from their words, hands for silverware,
removed with a swift cut of a knife, only to be healed6.
The 700 chained to seats by flowers and witchcraft,
their faces pushed forth by an unseen hand into
the main course, pseudo-medical miracles:
Skin flayed and fried in buttered lies, meat torn from
the backs with hook of praises, grilled in a hellfire
equal to the their pride, and feed to them by sodomites.
“see they are happy, no?” the maitre'd smirked and led
Dante away, “no worries, Vergil shall met you,
Ah there he is run along.”
1From the man who brought you who-ville, a table to meet their feeding requirements
2I really, really really hate the 700 club
3Everyone has got to love Bruce Campbell, especially in Spiderman 3
4In 2005, Robertson launched Operation Supreme Court Freedom, a televised nationwide 21-day prayer campaign asking people to pray for vacancies on the Supreme Court, where "black-robed tyrants have pushed a radical agenda." Robertson declared that "God heard those prayers",[23] after the announced resignation of Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O'Connor.
5Robertson - "socialist, anti-family political movement that encourages women to leave their husbands, kill their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism and become lesbians.
6Faith healing.
As to the question that i have: since the act of traveling through hell and seeing all of the sinners and sins had no effect on Dante, does this mean that even if we see our sins, we can not change ourselves?
Violence to others turned on thyself
This takes place in Canto XII after viewing Alexander, Dionysius, and before they see the centaur more. This is in the seventh circle of Hell…
We continued down the path of despair,
Viewing images of people scorned
And by their own humanly actions destroyed.
The first that we passed was a woman[1],
A little past the mid point of her life.
She lay on a sheet of brimstone for all eyes,
Crying tears of acid and words of venom.
Vultures[2] swooped above her waiting for their
Stomachs to empty again before striking
Down upon her with fierce beaks tearing up her
Insides and out in a bloody mess of
Intestines, organs, bones, stomach, and fecal.
The ravaging beasts ate the body whole
All the while the woman continued to cry,
Her tears of acid burning her face down
To the skull and her eyes bubbled as they
melted away the words of venom burned Her
tongue away. A sizzling sound came from the
Whole head and the screams of pain echoed through
The halls of this seventh circle of hell.
The birds flew away and the woman lay
Almost dead, praying for death to finally
Take her. The bodily parts and fluids
That lay around her began to dry up
And evaporate. Her wounds healed and she
Could again see the birds flying above her
Waiting for their stomachs to empty so
They could dine again on the feast of her.
Virgil grabbed onto my arm and dragged me
Away from the horrible scene that had
Transpired before my very eyes.
We followed down the path and came upon
Another tortured soul. The man[3] was hung from
Fish hooks attached to string that was pulled tight.
The fish hooks were hooked into his body
By his skin in multiple locations.
There were six hooks in each of the man’s ears
Five on the shoulders and ten going down
Each arm. Fifty hooks protruded from the mans
Chest and a number from his back. Five from
His genitals and twenty running down
each leg. The man cried in agony and
Begged for help. I looked at his eyes and saw
That they had been gouged out. I looked up and saw
Crows[4] flying above, with what appeared to
Be an eye hanging from their beaks. The hooks
Appeared to be pulling the mans skin from
His body as well as tearing the skin apart.
He continued to scream for help from anyone.
‘What was his crime’ I asked my leader.
‘His anger caused harm and violence among
Those who loved him the most. His pride pushed them
Away to the point of him being all alone.
Now, in his time of need, there is no one
To help him, yet he continuously
Calls for it. That is his punishment.’
Finally, his skin tears completely apart
And he is free of his prison. He falls to
The floor and screams in pain and in joy.
He stands and begins to run towards me and
My leader, his muscle body pulsating
His legs tightening and loosening as he
Ran. His face shot out blood as he cried in
Pain and joy. He was finally freed by
Himself. Hooks and strings shot out of his muscles
And hung him again. He began to cry.
‘His soul is eternally damned’ Virgil told
me ‘He has no memory, only pain
And hope. The pain of his life and his torture
And the hope that there might be an end to
This endless torture. His body will
Regenerate once it is completely
Destroyed and this process will begin again.
His eyes will continue to get gouged out’
I looked and saw the sockets continuously
Bleeding on the face that was bleeding with
Every scream ‘His skin will continue
To be torn apart’ I looked at the muscle
covered body, little flecks of skin remained.
‘His genitals will always be torn from
His body’ I looked at the place where they once
Were and the memory of watching them
get torn flashed back into my mind. They were
torn first, before the rest of the skin, blood
Shooting out afterwards. There was a split
Second where the man’s scream was for the manhood
He had just lost. ‘His muscles will continue
To be torn from the skeleton and his
Bones will be crushed, yet he will be conscious
For all of it and be reborn again
to live it forever.’ Virgil grabbed my
Arm to drag me away, yet I could not
Look away, I felt as though I met this man
Before in a prior life, yet did not know
Who he was.
“A little farther on the Centaur stopped above
a crowd who appeared…” (Sinclair ed. Pg. 161)[5]
My Question deals with the fact that Dante condemned so many people to hell. Popes excluded, I wondered why he condemned the Poets to hell.
An answer to this (Looking at Socrates) was that A. They weren’t Christain. B. There were controversy involved with their life/death.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Socrates#The_Socratic_problem
[1] This woman shall be known as Lori of Minesapolis. She has been condemned to hell for violence that she committed against friend and family and the pride that she holds to admit that she was wrong or let things go. In the end, her violence was more far reaching than those who she looked to hurt.
[2] Yes, I did steal this from mythology.
[3] This man is condemned to hell for being to prideful to ask for help when he needed it the most, forgetting about the fruit of his loins and the loves of his life.
[4] I inserted crows only because I’m a huge fan of the movie/graphic novel by the same name. The mythology of both is really interesting to me. In it, it is said that a crow carries ones soul from our world to the next, so having the crows being part of the eternal torture seems ironic in a sense that the soul is damned to hell and so is its soul carrier. And thus, the soul carrier is pretty pissed off.
[5] I know this isn’t as visceral as the others I’ve seen, but to me hell is constant torture with no hope of getting out of it, but having the hope that there is a hope. A depressing situation. There is pain involved, but a constant pain that can never be forgotten. These were just two ideas that I had some others consisted of a body being pushed down constantly on a endless bed of nails, never to die but to always feel the pain. Another had to do with getting thrown into a vat of highly concentrated salt water after having layers of skin had been removed. Yet another had a person whose body was filled with bugs eating them from the inside out. My favorite that I did not get to use was based off of a Poe short story called the “Pit and the Pendulum”. My version would have someone completely paralyzed: couldn’t move, scream, or see. The pendulum would always be cutting a little away from the persons throat but that person could do nothing about it.
We continued down the path of despair,
Viewing images of people scorned
And by their own humanly actions destroyed.
The first that we passed was a woman[1],
A little past the mid point of her life.
She lay on a sheet of brimstone for all eyes,
Crying tears of acid and words of venom.
Vultures[2] swooped above her waiting for their
Stomachs to empty again before striking
Down upon her with fierce beaks tearing up her
Insides and out in a bloody mess of
Intestines, organs, bones, stomach, and fecal.
The ravaging beasts ate the body whole
All the while the woman continued to cry,
Her tears of acid burning her face down
To the skull and her eyes bubbled as they
melted away the words of venom burned Her
tongue away. A sizzling sound came from the
Whole head and the screams of pain echoed through
The halls of this seventh circle of hell.
The birds flew away and the woman lay
Almost dead, praying for death to finally
Take her. The bodily parts and fluids
That lay around her began to dry up
And evaporate. Her wounds healed and she
Could again see the birds flying above her
Waiting for their stomachs to empty so
They could dine again on the feast of her.
Virgil grabbed onto my arm and dragged me
Away from the horrible scene that had
Transpired before my very eyes.
We followed down the path and came upon
Another tortured soul. The man[3] was hung from
Fish hooks attached to string that was pulled tight.
The fish hooks were hooked into his body
By his skin in multiple locations.
There were six hooks in each of the man’s ears
Five on the shoulders and ten going down
Each arm. Fifty hooks protruded from the mans
Chest and a number from his back. Five from
His genitals and twenty running down
each leg. The man cried in agony and
Begged for help. I looked at his eyes and saw
That they had been gouged out. I looked up and saw
Crows[4] flying above, with what appeared to
Be an eye hanging from their beaks. The hooks
Appeared to be pulling the mans skin from
His body as well as tearing the skin apart.
He continued to scream for help from anyone.
‘What was his crime’ I asked my leader.
‘His anger caused harm and violence among
Those who loved him the most. His pride pushed them
Away to the point of him being all alone.
Now, in his time of need, there is no one
To help him, yet he continuously
Calls for it. That is his punishment.’
Finally, his skin tears completely apart
And he is free of his prison. He falls to
The floor and screams in pain and in joy.
He stands and begins to run towards me and
My leader, his muscle body pulsating
His legs tightening and loosening as he
Ran. His face shot out blood as he cried in
Pain and joy. He was finally freed by
Himself. Hooks and strings shot out of his muscles
And hung him again. He began to cry.
‘His soul is eternally damned’ Virgil told
me ‘He has no memory, only pain
And hope. The pain of his life and his torture
And the hope that there might be an end to
This endless torture. His body will
Regenerate once it is completely
Destroyed and this process will begin again.
His eyes will continue to get gouged out’
I looked and saw the sockets continuously
Bleeding on the face that was bleeding with
Every scream ‘His skin will continue
To be torn apart’ I looked at the muscle
covered body, little flecks of skin remained.
‘His genitals will always be torn from
His body’ I looked at the place where they once
Were and the memory of watching them
get torn flashed back into my mind. They were
torn first, before the rest of the skin, blood
Shooting out afterwards. There was a split
Second where the man’s scream was for the manhood
He had just lost. ‘His muscles will continue
To be torn from the skeleton and his
Bones will be crushed, yet he will be conscious
For all of it and be reborn again
to live it forever.’ Virgil grabbed my
Arm to drag me away, yet I could not
Look away, I felt as though I met this man
Before in a prior life, yet did not know
Who he was.
“A little farther on the Centaur stopped above
a crowd who appeared…” (Sinclair ed. Pg. 161)[5]
My Question deals with the fact that Dante condemned so many people to hell. Popes excluded, I wondered why he condemned the Poets to hell.
An answer to this (Looking at Socrates) was that A. They weren’t Christain. B. There were controversy involved with their life/death.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Socrates#The_Socratic_problem
[1] This woman shall be known as Lori of Minesapolis. She has been condemned to hell for violence that she committed against friend and family and the pride that she holds to admit that she was wrong or let things go. In the end, her violence was more far reaching than those who she looked to hurt.
[2] Yes, I did steal this from mythology.
[3] This man is condemned to hell for being to prideful to ask for help when he needed it the most, forgetting about the fruit of his loins and the loves of his life.
[4] I inserted crows only because I’m a huge fan of the movie/graphic novel by the same name. The mythology of both is really interesting to me. In it, it is said that a crow carries ones soul from our world to the next, so having the crows being part of the eternal torture seems ironic in a sense that the soul is damned to hell and so is its soul carrier. And thus, the soul carrier is pretty pissed off.
[5] I know this isn’t as visceral as the others I’ve seen, but to me hell is constant torture with no hope of getting out of it, but having the hope that there is a hope. A depressing situation. There is pain involved, but a constant pain that can never be forgotten. These were just two ideas that I had some others consisted of a body being pushed down constantly on a endless bed of nails, never to die but to always feel the pain. Another had to do with getting thrown into a vat of highly concentrated salt water after having layers of skin had been removed. Yet another had a person whose body was filled with bugs eating them from the inside out. My favorite that I did not get to use was based off of a Poe short story called the “Pit and the Pendulum”. My version would have someone completely paralyzed: couldn’t move, scream, or see. The pendulum would always be cutting a little away from the persons throat but that person could do nothing about it.
Saturday Post
This is inserted in Canto 28 after line 30
His heart lies on the floor the veins bursting
Oozing black muck trickling from his guts
With a sharp razor he saws at his head
Until his body is sliced to the bones(1)
The pilgrim forced to look away from him
He sees the Garcias, Kurthners, Boonstras Gannons
All doomed to the same task in hell as they
The pilgrim laughs at fellow enemies
He flaunts his warm jacket, socks, pants, and shirt
Shoving the clothes into the open wounds
Entangled within the guts and organs(2)
Bored with his playful antics he moved on
He came across a sluggish dark figure
Choking on her own thick sticky black blood
The blood is like jumping in boiling water
It’s pouring out her nose, eyes, and butt
Constantly burning and scalding her insides
Instead of feet she has spikes that with each step
Dig further and further into her body
Cutting nerves and muscles as they slice the flesh(3)
1) This is just continuing from where the poem left off as he rips himself open.
2) I was trying to add some modern stuff in the poem so that’s why the people I know are having socks and clothes stuffed in their open wounds…I guess that’s modern.
3) I added the women because I felt like my poem wasn’t very disgusting and I just got an idea of what I wouldn’t want happen to me, so I scratched out the last part and added this. I also thought it went with the idea of people being ripped open when I talked about the spikes that are her feet.
Question about book
Why did Virgil get so angry at the pilgrim when he was listening to the two people talk?
Virgil harshly reprimands his companion, telling him that it is demeaning to listen to such a petty disagreement.
http://www.sparknotes.com/poetry/inferno/section12.rhtml
His heart lies on the floor the veins bursting
Oozing black muck trickling from his guts
With a sharp razor he saws at his head
Until his body is sliced to the bones(1)
The pilgrim forced to look away from him
He sees the Garcias, Kurthners, Boonstras Gannons
All doomed to the same task in hell as they
The pilgrim laughs at fellow enemies
He flaunts his warm jacket, socks, pants, and shirt
Shoving the clothes into the open wounds
Entangled within the guts and organs(2)
Bored with his playful antics he moved on
He came across a sluggish dark figure
Choking on her own thick sticky black blood
The blood is like jumping in boiling water
It’s pouring out her nose, eyes, and butt
Constantly burning and scalding her insides
Instead of feet she has spikes that with each step
Dig further and further into her body
Cutting nerves and muscles as they slice the flesh(3)
1) This is just continuing from where the poem left off as he rips himself open.
2) I was trying to add some modern stuff in the poem so that’s why the people I know are having socks and clothes stuffed in their open wounds…I guess that’s modern.
3) I added the women because I felt like my poem wasn’t very disgusting and I just got an idea of what I wouldn’t want happen to me, so I scratched out the last part and added this. I also thought it went with the idea of people being ripped open when I talked about the spikes that are her feet.
Question about book
Why did Virgil get so angry at the pilgrim when he was listening to the two people talk?
Virgil harshly reprimands his companion, telling him that it is demeaning to listen to such a petty disagreement.
http://www.sparknotes.com/poetry/inferno/section12.rhtml
The Dreadful Suffering of the Lustful
2nd Circle of Hell
(Insert into Canto V ~ Top of Page 75 "I came...")
I came upon a sight that none should see
Sad lustful souls--condemned, naked, exposed
On display, extremities bound and spread.
A small man screams in agonizing pain
His testicles flicked and pinched by sharp claws.
Since all he could see was lust and pussy
A demon spawn rips out his sinful eyes
Filling bloody sockets with mauled testes.
His crooked cross revels his true self--Mark*
Molester and killer of childhood dreams.
His penis shoved up his ass 'til it rips--
Travels up his body then out his mouth.
Deformed demons re-sew the genitals
Pubic hair and vas deferens as thread
Eyes replaced, the cycle begins again.
Next to him I see the soul of Tammy**
Bound and gagged with legs spread, nipples erect.
A large rabid dog licks her clitoris
And then bites it off with razor sharp teeth.
Bloodsucking leeches are placed on the wound
Her honey-smeared breasts stung by swarms of bees.
A phallic shaped rod of red hot iron
Is shoved inside her over and over--
Her tainted womb melts, consuming itself
Flowing from her body like toxic waste.
Her clit then regrows, once again exposed.
Plagued by memories of now empty beds,
The lustful souls suffer in eternal dread.
*Mark Sobie of Schaumburg, Illinois. Uncle of Rachel Forbes, molested
a close family member as a child.
**Tammy Prior of Dolton, Illinois. Ex-roommate of Rachel Forbes,
cheated on her faithful boyfriend Quentin with three other men while he
was incarcerated. She continues to lustfully sleep with other men while
still dating Quentin.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ My question about Dante's Inferno is:
"How many copies of it have been sold?"
I learned that Dante's "Divine Comedy" became a major work of
Italian literature shortly after its emergence in the early 14th century.
Due to manuscript transmission, hundreds of copies were in
circulation in the following century, many of which included
detailed commentary. With the introduction of printing, many
annotated and illustrated issues emerged.
*I obtained this information from:
http://www.pullins.com/Books/01139DanteInferno.htm
I also found out that the Longfellow translation of the three volumes of
"The Divine Comedy" was printed for private purposes in 1865-1866
and in 1867; however, they were not released to the public until 1867.
After translating "The Inferno" for two years, Longfellow finally finished in
1864. Ten copies of "The Inferno" were printed privately in 1865 and
one of them was sent to Florence in celebration of Dante's 600th
birthday. He finished the second volume in 1866 and the third volume in
1867 and then the entire three volumes were released to the public.
*I obtained this information from: http://www.worldwideschool.org/library/books/lit/poetry/TheDivineComedy1-Inferno/Chap0.html
After searching for the answer to my question to no avail, I have
concluded that there is really no real way of knowing how many copies
were sold because a plethora of different editions have emerged over
the years and because the record keeping centuries ago is not up to
par with today's standards.
(Insert into Canto V ~ Top of Page 75 "I came...")
I came upon a sight that none should see
Sad lustful souls--condemned, naked, exposed
On display, extremities bound and spread.
A small man screams in agonizing pain
His testicles flicked and pinched by sharp claws.
Since all he could see was lust and pussy
A demon spawn rips out his sinful eyes
Filling bloody sockets with mauled testes.
His crooked cross revels his true self--Mark*
Molester and killer of childhood dreams.
His penis shoved up his ass 'til it rips--
Travels up his body then out his mouth.
Deformed demons re-sew the genitals
Pubic hair and vas deferens as thread
Eyes replaced, the cycle begins again.
Next to him I see the soul of Tammy**
Bound and gagged with legs spread, nipples erect.
A large rabid dog licks her clitoris
And then bites it off with razor sharp teeth.
Bloodsucking leeches are placed on the wound
Her honey-smeared breasts stung by swarms of bees.
A phallic shaped rod of red hot iron
Is shoved inside her over and over--
Her tainted womb melts, consuming itself
Flowing from her body like toxic waste.
Her clit then regrows, once again exposed.
Plagued by memories of now empty beds,
The lustful souls suffer in eternal dread.
*Mark Sobie of Schaumburg, Illinois. Uncle of Rachel Forbes, molested
a close family member as a child.
**Tammy Prior of Dolton, Illinois. Ex-roommate of Rachel Forbes,
cheated on her faithful boyfriend Quentin with three other men while he
was incarcerated. She continues to lustfully sleep with other men while
still dating Quentin.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ My question about Dante's Inferno is:
"How many copies of it have been sold?"
I learned that Dante's "Divine Comedy" became a major work of
Italian literature shortly after its emergence in the early 14th century.
Due to manuscript transmission, hundreds of copies were in
circulation in the following century, many of which included
detailed commentary. With the introduction of printing, many
annotated and illustrated issues emerged.
*I obtained this information from:
http://www.pullins.com/Books/01139DanteInferno.htm
I also found out that the Longfellow translation of the three volumes of
"The Divine Comedy" was printed for private purposes in 1865-1866
and in 1867; however, they were not released to the public until 1867.
After translating "The Inferno" for two years, Longfellow finally finished in
1864. Ten copies of "The Inferno" were printed privately in 1865 and
one of them was sent to Florence in celebration of Dante's 600th
birthday. He finished the second volume in 1866 and the third volume in
1867 and then the entire three volumes were released to the public.
*I obtained this information from: http://www.worldwideschool.org/library/books/lit/poetry/TheDivineComedy1-Inferno/Chap0.html
After searching for the answer to my question to no avail, I have
concluded that there is really no real way of knowing how many copies
were sold because a plethora of different editions have emerged over
the years and because the record keeping centuries ago is not up to
par with today's standards.
The Most Treacherous Act
I'd like to apologize in advance for failing to be as graphic as my classmates. As an easily frightened weak stomached twenty year old, graphic is not my forte, but I genuinely exerted myself.
To be inserted in Canto 32, after line 12
The Pilgrim sees the sexual predators
With epileptic acrobats in their guts
A squirt of blood with every somersault
The agony of birth with each impure thought
Placentas of pain squeezed from their genitals
As they cyclically torture themselves
Syphilis slowly claiming their senses
Each bodily secretion scalding their flesh
Bananas peeling for each of the men
The Pilgrim sees Dale Boehme[1], convicted rapist
The ultimate violation- his daughter.
It was her sister’s wedding night.
The women[2], ravaged by chlamidya.
Cervical cancer slowly sapping their lives.
Re-birthed as infants on methamphetamine.
Men watch their lovers’ grotesque transformation
As their tears burn rivulets down their faces
And their flesh clings to their skeletal remains.
Their chalk-stick frames gradually crumble
Their existence reduced to crystal meth mounds
That their swollen-bellied ex lovers devour
As each rises the circus commences again
The blood oozes from their infectious corpses
As the gymnasts inside restart their routine[3]
[1] This name has not been changed. That story is not fictional. His daughter is technically his step daughter, his wife’s child from a previous marriage. Diane, her mother (his wife) has remained married to him. I cannot fathom a version of hell dark enough to give that woman what she deserves. This is my best attempt at what her husband should receive. http://www.isp.state.il.us/sor/offenderdetails.cfm?SORID=E02B2474&CFID=5256863&CFTOKEN=44615651&jsessionid=b030593d4994$0C1$F0$
[2] Diane, included
[3] I put this in one of the deepest circles of Hell with the traitors because to me, sexual assault is one of the most horrid forms of betrayal, and to do it to someone you know, who trusted, loved you, is a traitorous act.
I wonder how many of us are condemning our exes to hell?
This would be situated in Canto XXXII, between lines 123 and 124.
I then saw, from some distance, a woman,
one contorted (1) most unnaturally.
Whedon (2) implored me onward to see her.
“Do you know her face?” my teacher asked me.
I did indeed recognize her from life,
a woman I knew better than passing well (3).
As we drew nearer her fate became clear:
she was so twisted because she was made
to reach inside herself, with both her hands.
grasp it, from above and below, pulling,
rending it in two as she screamed aloud.
We watched as she carried out her painful task,
Promethean (4) and grisly. She spoke not,
as her hand, down her throat, tore at her heart.
with fury. One hand pulled her heart from her ass.
“You who betrayed the one who loved you most.” (5)
Not in lustful deeds, but deceitful words (6)
did _____ so betray, and forever
would her own heart be broken by her hand.
1. Probably a very deliberate choice of words, as contortion was, in fact, one of her most well-known hobbies.
2. The guide replacing Virgil for this brief foray, one Joss Whedon. While a great genius, he has doubtless found himself in hell, not least for saying in an interview, when asked if there was a God, “Absolutely not. That's a very important and necessary thing to learn.”
3. Well, I suppose Dante didn’t, but work with me here.
4. For stealing fire from the gods, Prometheus was chained to a rock and every day his liver was
eaten by an eagle. Having your heart eternally torn out bears some similarity.
5. _______, famously left her fiancee and long-time girlfriend literally one day after discussing buying nicer engagement rings. The list of her betrayals thereafter is long and colorful.
6. Unlike many betraying lovers, she did not cheat, but instead twisted her own words and herself, lying about her feelings and intentions, and so she is not condemned to the circle for the lustful but instead the one for traitors.
Friday, January 25, 2008
What's in the box?
Continuation of Canto V. Before Dante passes out, that is.
(6) "impegno": Italian. Means "commitment."
(7) PBS is in no way affiliated with this bastardization of classic literature.
(8) With all this fainting, it's really no wonder why Dante's in hell. Would you date a guy who fainted regularly? More like Don't-e.
My question was in regards to what layer of hell I would end up in. If you've committed more than one sin, how is your specific level chosen?
The answer is that Kevin Spacey picks it for you.
The proof's in the IMDB pudding, my friends.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0114369/
I reached to Virgil, who stood next to me,
Began to speak; alas! My lips moved not!
My poet friend had quickly disappeared
And in his place now stood a fro’d Bob Ross (1).
“Shush, dear child, hasten not to swoon,
But rather to expect such pained events,
For lusty layers we’ve already seen
Seem nothing, what with all that lies ahead
(also, note happy trees just to your right) (2).
But, swounds, look on unto that man you know(3);
Do you recall his face, e’en as tis now?”
So, holding dearest Mister Ross’s hand,
I turned and saw a man called Peter, fore.
Upon his junk were seven thousand hairs
(That grow like ivy under underoos)(4)
Which, knitted, held his skin flute rather taught,
And stretched they out across a lava’d field
(As hairy fork tongs with a flacid base)
Right to the collars of bejeweled men
Who, trained in track and field when they were young,
Showed no remorse in racing ever on.
Those sprinting queens of drag had not, it seemed,
Marked my old friend (who’d wronged so many loves),
But rather goaded one another on
To win the pubic race they had begun.(5)
As he screamed on and on, I yelled to Bob,
“Why stays he so, why hasn’t he yet fled?
And Bob replied, “Look down, my naïve ward,
To Pete, who’s feet are planted into stone.”
And sure enough the soles of that old slut
Were stuck in red rock that “impegno” read. (6)
“No more,” I begged, “I’ve seen too much, my liege!”
“All right, my son,” he muttered in my ear.
“Virgil’s due back, my boy, so go I now,
But remember all you’ve seen, and paint it later.
PBS eats this shit out of your palm. (7)
Peace out, dear friend, and say hey to Virgil!”
Then was he gone and fell I fast once more
Into a state of comatose slumber. (8)
(1) Fro'd, der. from "fro": also known as "afro," commonly associated with the African-American hairstyle in which hair is allowed to grow out and is then fluffed to create an orb-like style.
(2) "happy trees": Bob Ross's version of currency.
(3) swounds: shortened version of "supercalifragilisticexpialidocious." Means "Balls!"
(4) Underoos: if you wear underwear, the most comfortable underwear you can wear.
(6) "impegno": Italian. Means "commitment."
(7) PBS is in no way affiliated with this bastardization of classic literature.
(8) With all this fainting, it's really no wonder why Dante's in hell. Would you date a guy who fainted regularly? More like Don't-e.
My question was in regards to what layer of hell I would end up in. If you've committed more than one sin, how is your specific level chosen?
The answer is that Kevin Spacey picks it for you.
The proof's in the IMDB pudding, my friends.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0114369/
Future Visions of Poor Fluffy
So the dude* and I weez to circle eight
of which miss clea, madame fortune awaits
This bedazzled twilight tells of the future
So may her childhood past be her frightful fate.
Dude twirls his vermous** tail in disbelief
"What so wrong with having a vision?"
The sight was putrid as miss Clea's kitten
her childhood friend winces in the demon's grasps
claws being plucked like a chicken's feather
"one-by-one" the demon sings while he moans
"bet you didn't see this coming you Bitch
Your childhood pet massacred before you
Nothing you can do but watch through your crystals"
taking the claws and running them down her back
next comes the demons hand through kitty's mouth
down the trachea into the stomach
Out comes kitty's spleen, his intenstines both
large and small along with its bladder and
the pulsating heart along with his soul
Tears run from her eyes like the snot hanging
from fluffy's tiny cold nose the demon nods
"wear your past as if it were your future"
the pulsating heart shoved in her pie whole
no screaming for next comes the intestine
necklace, and a bladder fitting belly bag
claws of her own blood shoved up through her rectum
next she is forced to swallow her friends heart.
she will floss with her kitty's freshly torn whiskers.
"No more, no more!" she screams in horror
she starts to cough and choke on the feline blood
What's this but a furball all thats left of him
she vomits again, the heart on the ground
"may your punishment be the repeated
consumation and regurgitation
of cute, small, cuddly, innocent fluffy"
The dude shuffles thinking of such mayhem
he utters sentimental words to me
"I was always a dog person myself"
*the dude-He is a character taken from the Big Lebowskie, of whom I always pictured Virgil as.
**vermous tail-this is in relations to the rats tail, made famous in the 80's. The dude wears his hair like this so he can twirl it and think of hell.
*This poem is about as vile as I can get, and I love animals.
question-Did Dante strictly write the inferno because he was bitter due to the fact he was exhiled from Florence?
answer-this website says he wrote it to let others know about the corruptness of the time in florence, or he just may have written in for fun. http://killdevilhill.com/infernochat/read.php?f=65&i=28&t=27
of which miss clea, madame fortune awaits
This bedazzled twilight tells of the future
So may her childhood past be her frightful fate.
Dude twirls his vermous** tail in disbelief
"What so wrong with having a vision?"
The sight was putrid as miss Clea's kitten
her childhood friend winces in the demon's grasps
claws being plucked like a chicken's feather
"one-by-one" the demon sings while he moans
"bet you didn't see this coming you Bitch
Your childhood pet massacred before you
Nothing you can do but watch through your crystals"
taking the claws and running them down her back
next comes the demons hand through kitty's mouth
down the trachea into the stomach
Out comes kitty's spleen, his intenstines both
large and small along with its bladder and
the pulsating heart along with his soul
Tears run from her eyes like the snot hanging
from fluffy's tiny cold nose the demon nods
"wear your past as if it were your future"
the pulsating heart shoved in her pie whole
no screaming for next comes the intestine
necklace, and a bladder fitting belly bag
claws of her own blood shoved up through her rectum
next she is forced to swallow her friends heart.
she will floss with her kitty's freshly torn whiskers.
"No more, no more!" she screams in horror
she starts to cough and choke on the feline blood
What's this but a furball all thats left of him
she vomits again, the heart on the ground
"may your punishment be the repeated
consumation and regurgitation
of cute, small, cuddly, innocent fluffy"
The dude shuffles thinking of such mayhem
he utters sentimental words to me
"I was always a dog person myself"
*the dude-He is a character taken from the Big Lebowskie, of whom I always pictured Virgil as.
**vermous tail-this is in relations to the rats tail, made famous in the 80's. The dude wears his hair like this so he can twirl it and think of hell.
*This poem is about as vile as I can get, and I love animals.
question-Did Dante strictly write the inferno because he was bitter due to the fact he was exhiled from Florence?
answer-this website says he wrote it to let others know about the corruptness of the time in florence, or he just may have written in for fun. http://killdevilhill.com/infernochat/read.php?f=65&i=28&t=27
You are going to think I am one messed up chick
Always kneeling down on her hands and knees
she bites to seize screaming stillborn fetus
floating inside toilets full of liquid shit. 3
Each bite she takes no teeth to slimy flesh
demon children rip and tear her wet cunt
with their jagged, crusty fingernail tips. 6
Her tears fester quickly, attract foul rats
who gnaw and scratch to climb inside her sex.
In her uterus they ejaculate. 9
Three times a day gives birth to large rat-boys.
Each one is born through anal cavity.
A stream of blood constant from her asshole. 12
I stop to ask what crime she did commit.
My guide, he said, “do not linger here
for you would find her name to be too near.” 15
And I to her: “Explain your fate and name.”
And she to me: “My babes I know are dead
I was the one who stood and watched them drown.” 18
Fed up with her weakness my guide stepped in.
His karate so fierce I was in awe
at the round-house he gave across her face. 21
line 3
While the use of fetus doesn’t pertain exactly to this woman’s crime the theme of children is key.
lines 5-8
This damned soul is in the bolgia of the violent because she was violent on earth and now violence is done unto her for all of eternity. I’m not sure why I chose to include rats other than they are gross and Gabe asked for gross.
lines 9-11
I chose to punish this woman with continuous, horrible child birth (through her anus no less) because she actually had a hand in the drowning her own children in
line 15
"...her name to be too near" is in reference to this woman’s name being very similar to mine. Mine is Amanda Hammer and hers is Amanda Hamm. I once introduced myself to someone by my full name and she said, oh like the girl who drowned her kids in the lake. My internal reaction was, no you f*cking @sshole not at all like that crazy b!tch.
lines 19-21
I can’t think of a better person to wander the rings of hell with than the one and only Chuck Norris. Did you know his tears can cure cancer? Too bad he has never cried.
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