skonen_blades: (Default)
With all the recent changes to the darkness that I've seen.
The edges that were sanded off, the dirty made pristine
The safety and awareness and the need to be serene
The growing sense of friendliness and shunning the obscene
The Brothers Grimm made not so bad, the fairy tales made fair
The social justice warriors enlightening the air
The value placed on human life returning bright and strong
The grey reduced, the right enlarged, the shrinking of the wrong
The outrage at authorities for murdering the poor
I think perhaps one holiday is losing it's allure
October's bachannalia. The costumed autumn fete.
Althought it's taken lots of hits it hasn't been killed yet.
And if it dies then that's okay 'cause it's the only one
That doesn't need to be alive to have it's season's fun
Because a zombie works just fine, a ghost works just as well
A vampire or a demon up vacationing from hell
It's my favorite holiday, the best one that I've seen
This year I think I'm dressing as the ghost of Halloween
The Halloween that's not allowed. The Halloween taboo.
The Halloween that moral, righteous, good people eschew
I'll dress up as a sexy, sexist, racist, ableist male
A twitter nazi holocaust denier. With a tail.
I'll wear some blackface and a head dress and a turban too.
I'll layer so much ignorance they won't know what to do
I'll work in sexy condiments and sexy flower bed
and sexy lamp and sexy tree and sexy severed head
Kimono, sari, big sombrero, khaftan, high heel shoes
I'll get thick glasses and some crutches to complete the ruse
Vocally my ignorance will match my outer gear
I'll drop the n-word casually for everyone to hear
And if you try to challenge me about my costume choice
You won't believe how loud I'll raise the volume of my voice
I'll talk about free speech and how our country is a free one
And how I hate the knee jerk left and wouldn't want to be one
I'll rail against political correctness run amuck
And loudly claim quite proudly that I do not give a fuck
You know what? Wait. Just wait. This is a really bad idea.
If this poem has offended you, it's culpa mea
I admit that even as a joke that this is dumb
That where we're going has to be improved from where we've come.
Perhaps the chunks we've protested against this time of year
Are actually good parts to lose. It's actually quite clear.
That Halloween should not be seen as opportunity
to be a racist, sexist ableist with impunity
I take it back. The holiday is not in need of saving.
Halloween could use some rules to help us in behaving.
The day is dead! Long live the day! Our Halloween lives on!
Just make sure to double check the costume that you don.
True monsters live beneath the masks of flesh we wear all year
We need a holiday that is a holiday from fear
So let's all try to make October safer than it's been.
So everyone can have a safe and happy Halloween.




tags
skonen_blades: (angryyes)
Added a few verses at the end.

Five elements make up the earth. Five points a pentagram.
There were five wounds on Jesus Christ. Five fingers on a hand.
The number five’s significant. It’s all through ancient lore.
And yet our playing cards have suits that number only four.

The spades that dig , the hearts that love, the clubs that bludgeon heads
The diamonds glitter. Every suit in shades of blacks and reds.
The cards can tell a story of deceit and sex and death.
Money, shovels, baseball bats, a lover’s dying breath

The cards can also educate about society
Royalty’s outnumbered but they have the power, see?
So many of the cards that number down from ten to ace
Are cards that by design don’t even have a person’s face.

The symbols on the playing cards are metaphors for life
And like those metaphors they can bring happiness or strife
Parables, morality, mortality and more
But yet the suits involved in decks of cards are only four

Yet five’s the number echoing back through the centuries.
Why four suits? There’s more to this than everybody sees.
There was another suit existed sure as I’m alive
I swear upon a pirate’s grave, they used to number five

There was a suit that lit the rest. A suit that banished night.
A suit of lamps. A suit of stars. It was a suit of light.
Lanterns it was called back then. The lantern suit of cards.
Lanterns lit the spades, the clubs, the diamonds and the hearts

You can’t spade a grave by feel, and hearts are ruled by sight
Diamonds don’t shine in the dark and clubs need help at night
How the lantern suit was shaped is lost to history
Possibly a flame or star was its geometry

It’s known the suit was odd because the highest card was jack
Jack of Lanterns was the highest card in every pack
For Jack had killed the Lantern King and claimed his lantern throne
He told the Queen to leave his house and now he ruled alone.

And so the King of Lanterns only had a leering skull
The Queen had running makeup tears, with racoon eyes gone dull
While Jack became the lantern made to light the crooked way.
The ray of light, the ray of hope, was Jack O Lantern’s ray.

Jack of Lantern’s rebel ways inspired all the players.
Gave them hope against the rich and lifted all their cares
Jack was always pictured with a horrid, leering smile.
Friendly, charming, scary, daring, rakish, full of guile

The suit was banned in 1410 by order of the lash.
Within a decade every deck of cards was burned to ash
And every hand that held a card was severed from its arm
Decks of cards were decks of death. They brought the owner harm.

It looked as though all playing cards were gone forever then
Along with all the thousand card games kept in mortal ken
The King who banned the cards? His name’s forgotten. Or erased?
Records of the royal family ruling can’t be traced

Decks of cards did not exist for one whole century
The only place they dared to come again was deep at sea
Pirates made new decks of cards away from legal eyes
Half-remembered one-eye jacks, and kings of suicide

The harshest laws regarding cards were focused on the lights
Most cards came back but lanterns stayed in darkness due to fright
Lanterns stayed a secret suit that no one dared to play
No one dared, and no one played, and so it went away

One thing you can’t do with light is keep it in the dark
It might change but it’ll find a way to keep the spark
Jack of Lanterns drifted into legend, myth and fable
Even though his suit was gone from every poker table

Cards survived but lights did not. The suit became extinct.
Yet every Halloween you’ll see a symbol that is linked
When settlers came to foreign soil, they brought Jackie, too.
And now from every pumpkin head, Jackie looks at you.

Jack O’Lantern stares from houses giving kids the treats
His smile lights the houses stairs as tiny teeth eat sweets
He smiles at the pranks and tricks all played on Hallow’s eve
Jackie lives. That king is dead and he is not bereaved.

Affection, violence, labour, wealth, REBELLION is the key
Rebel against the definitions of society
Define yourSELF and hope will lead the path you dare to tread
For Jack is nimble. Jack is quick. Despite the pumpkin head.

So every Halloween remember Jack O Lantern’s face.
It is a suit of cards integral to the human race.
Remember Jack the fearless one, the one that lit the way
Although his suit’s forgotten, Jackie never went away.




tags
skonen_blades: (dark)
Five elements make up the earth. Five points a pentagram.
There were five wounds on Jesus Christ. Five fingers on a hand.
The number five’s significant. It’s all through ancient lore.
And yet our playing cards have suits that number only four.

The spades that dig , the hearts that love, the clubs that bludgeon heads
The diamonds glitter. Every suit in shades of blacks and reds.
The cards can tell a story of deceit and sex and death.
Money, shovels, baseball bats, a lover’s dying breath

The cards can also educate about society
Royalty’s outnumbered but they have the power, see?
So many of the cards that number down from ten to ace
Are cards that by design don’t even have a person’s face.

The symbols on the playing cards are metaphors for life
And like those metaphors they can bring happiness or strife
Parables, morality, mortality and more
But yet the suits involved in decks of cards are only four

Yet five’s the number echoing back through the centuries.
Why four suits? There’s more to this than everybody sees.
There was another suit existed sure as I’m alive
I swear upon a pirate’s grave, they used to number five

There was a suit that lit the rest. A suit that banished night.
A suit of lamps. A suit of stars. It was a suit of light.
Lanterns it was called back then. The lantern suit of cards.
Lanterns lit the spades, the clubs, the diamonds and the hearts

You can’t spade a grave by feel, and hearts are ruled by sight
Diamonds don’t shine in the dark and clubs need help at night
How the lantern suit was shaped is lost to history
Possibly a flame or star was its geometry

It’s known the suit was odd because the highest card was jack
Jack of Lanterns was the highest card in every pack
For Jack had killed the Lantern King and claimed his lantern throne
He told the Queen to leave his house and now he ruled alone.

And so the King of Lanterns only had a leering skull
The Queen had running makeup tears, with racoon eyes gone dull
While Jack became the lantern made to light the crooked way.
The ray of light, the ray of hope, was Jack O Lantern’s ray.

Jack of Lantern’s rebel ways inspired all the players.
Gave them hope against the rich and lifted all their cares
Jack was always pictured with a horrid, leering smile.
Friendly, charming, scary, daring, rakish, full of guile

The suit was banned by King Chenisse who used the axe and lash.
Within a decade every deck of cards was burned to ash
And every hand that held a card was severed from its arm
Decks of cards were decks of death. They brought the owner harm.

Cards survived but Jack did not. His suit became extinct.
Yet every Halloween you’ll see a symbol that is linked
When settlers came to foreign soil, they brought Jackie, too.
And now from every pumpkin head, Jackie looks at you.

Jack O’Lantern stares from houses giving kids the treats
His smile lights the houses stairs as tiny teeth eat sweets
He smiles at the pranks and tricks all played on Hallow’s eve
Jackie lives. The king is dead and he is not bereaved.

So every Halloween remember Jack O Lantern’s face.
It is a suit of cards integral to the human race.
Remember Jack the fearless one, the one that lit the way
Although his suit’s forgotten, Jackie never went away.


tags
skonen_blades: (mask)
Two Face turned out well.



Check out the Flickr set by clicking on this picture.



Hope yours was good as well.
skonen_blades: (mask)
This morning, as I was walking to work, I walked between a woman dressed as a 1920's flapper girl and a woman dressed up as a face-painted, wig-wearing, jersey-sporting football fan.

I visited Jhayne at work and she was dressed up as a saucy matador lion tamer. Her co-worker was dressed up as a highwayman.

On the skytrain, there was a young man, mentally retarded and slightly deformed, dressed as a pirate. He was with his guardians on his way to Science World. He had done his own makeup and I'm pretty sure it was supposed to be a clown. It was smeared and asymmetrical so it was hard to tell. He was super happy and he smiled through the garish makeup and the facial defects and said "I'm a pirate!". It was the most terrifying thing I have ever seen and at the same time one of the most wonderful.

A lunch, I saw a guy going to work dressed as a warlock. A giant robe and a cowl with arcane symbols all around the trim. He had on sensible office shoes and was avoiding the puddles. He was carrying a briefcase. And a broom.

After lunch, I saw a woman dressed up as a devil with an umbrella hunched over and trying to not get wet. Like maybe it doesn't rain in hell and she was miserable, plotting revenge on the travel agent who recommended Vancouver.

And it's not even 3PM yet.

I freaking LOVE this holiday.


tag
skonen_blades: (blurg)
Every Halloween, they had a meeting in some unlucky child’s bedroom.

The boogeyman, the monster under the bed, and the alien visitors.

The boogeyman arrived in little Timmy’s room through the closest portal closet. The monster under the bed pulled itself up through the dark ringworm-hole. The alien visitor climbed in through the window. Its grey distended head moved like a balloon in the darkness.

The alien leaned up against the boy’s bedroom door. The boogeyman stayed close to the closet. The monster under the bed stayed where it was, connected to its collective. Its eyes and ears poked from underneath the bed frame to contribute to the meeting.

The meeting was held each year to decide who would do the most scaring during the upcoming year but in all seriousness, during the last two decades, it had become an opportunity to shoot ideas around. A brainstorming session to try and come up with ways to scare kids.

In this day and age, kids were becoming less and less scared by creatures of the night. The fear that kept these three races alive wasn’t flowing as thick as it used to.

They’d take turns trying out their new ideas on the child in the room. They tried out their theories on Timmy this year.

Whoever won the competition became the strongest and won the opportunity to scare the most during the following year. First dibs on that year’s kids.

Timmy was found in the morning with white hair. He never spoke again.



tags
skonen_blades: (jabbadoubt)
The beginning of fall gave us reasons to do what we did. A darkening of our souls. A return to shorter days. More night. We all had our birthdays in October.

Halloween is celebrated much more in North American that in Europe. There’s a day of the dead in South America but it’s not the same thing. Halloween was the only true holiday left in America that hadn’t been ravaged by the rampant consumerism that plagued the rest of the society. Easter had been turned to chocolate. Christmas had been turned to greed. Halloween had candy and you could buy costumes if you wanted to but the spirit of it, the center of it, that never changed. It had no connection to Christ, for one thing.

Imagine something for me, if you will. Imagine you were seriously deformed. Imagine your presence in the daylight in a downtown restaurant would cause silence at best and panic at the worst. Imagine you were offered a chance to walk around unencumbered by screams and stares.

For one night.

This is what we offered them.

They called us Talk Show at school. Our names were Sally, Jessie, and Raphael. We always hung out together because we were the only people in our small town who liked the Smiths, who even knew who the Bronski Beat were, and didn’t wear black just for funerals. Sweaters in the summer kind of people. Not big fans of the sun. The regular beatings and teasing forged the bonds between us into iron.

Sally was the scarecrow. Jessie was the fat one. Raphael was gay. In a town of 8000 people, this meant that when we were kids, God said “You’re it” and tagged us. We had no hope of help unless someone transferred in that was the same as us. At least they’d be ‘new’ and the heat would be off of us for a while. No one ever did, though. This town was the kind of place you moved away from.

It wasn’t too hard to dig up the books.

Or the names of weaker demons with a vanity that we could manipulate.

One night on earth. The one night where a demon could be mistaken for a human. Where a demon could be mistaken for one of God’s favourites. This is what we offered them. We practiced the incantations and the protective spells. We sewed the symbols of armour into our clothes. We wore the amulets that we made according to the instructions.

We called up a demon for each of us.

They never touched us.


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