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Stills from Haxan (Witchcraft Through the Ages) (1922, dir. Benjamin Christensen)
Officially banned outside of Sweden for decades due to graphic imagery and an unabashed anti-clerical theme, Häxan has grown into a cinema legend one hears about but rarely, if ever, gets a chance to actually see. Is it true that it displays witches cavorting naked with lusty devils? Is a baby really drained of blood before it’s tossed into a stew pot? What’s this about women lining up to kiss Satan’s bulbous ass? Inquisitional torture? Flying on broomsticks? Hysterical nuns? Sacrilege and perversion? Demonic orgies? Otherworldly monstrosities emerging from between an old crone’s legs? And it’s a documentary? And is there really a version narrated by Beat generation writer and hipster icon William S. “The Naked Lunch” Burroughs, complete with acid jazz soundtrack? It’s all true.
"Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely."
— Edna St. Vincent Millay (via bloodmilk) (via fatalistichues) (via merricat) (via tobia)
"Death comes to me again, a girl" by Dorianne Laux
Death comes to me again, a girl
in a cotton slip, barefoot, giggling.
It’s not so terrible she tells me,
not like you think, all darkness
and silence. There are windchimes
and the smell of lemons, some days
it rains, but more often the air is dry
and sweet. I sit beneath the staircase
built from hair and bone and listen
to the voices of the living. I like it,
she says, shaking the dust from her hair,
especially when they fight, and when they sing.
“… the misery is there inside her, like a stone, and there’s no room for any other thoughts. She isn’t trying to make an appeal to our sympathies—she’s just shifting this big weight inside her from one place to another.”
— (via shitgaze; drunkenbutterfly; thousandflowerettes.)
outside the office. a square box with windows. leaves are falling. a women across the street is smoking a cigarette. the weather wavers on being slightly cold. Summer isn’t completely gone. a sun is somewhere. today behind clouds.
inside the office, decorations for Halloween. there is to much coffee. the new girl who answers our phones has a voice like yours. i pop three aspirin in my mouth. chew. more coffee. suppressed frustration. my jaw is tight, someone put a devil bobble-head on my desk. I’m not sure if i hate or love this . the phone rings, she picks it up and answers in customary company format. her voice is heart breaking.
