Log24

Monday, March 27, 2017

For Peculiar Children:

Filed under: Uncategorized — m759 @ 10:18 PM

A Ghost Ship —

Related tales for the Church of Synchronology —
See excerpts from an RSS feed this evening.

Earlier related material — Peregrine in this journal.

Saturday, January 14, 2017

Here We Go Loop De Lie

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: , — m759 @ 12:15 PM

Wikipedia on The Exorcist III  (1990),
written and directed by William Peter Blatty —

"Kinderman takes his friend, a priest named Father Dyer,
out to see their mutually favorite film It's a Wonderful Life ."

Related material from an RSS feed at noon —

Funny ha-ha, not funny peculiar.

Thursday, December 29, 2016

Quick Now, Here, Now, Always

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: — m759 @ 11:25 AM

'Only a peculiar can enter a time loop' — Nov. 21, 2016

'Loop De Loop,' Johnny Thunder, Diamond Records, 1962

Friday, December 23, 2016

Nightmares Before Christmas

Filed under: Uncategorized — m759 @ 10:25 AM

Recent posts have featured the Tim Burton films 
"Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children"
(and the Ghost Ship), as well as "Ed Wood" (and Plan 9). 

Related material —

Thursday, December 22, 2016

Funny Peculiar, Not Funny Ha-Ha

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: — m759 @ 1:00 PM

See also this  journal on the above "peculiar" date — Sept. 27, 2016.

Loopers

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: — m759 @ 11:45 AM

'Only a peculiar can enter a time loop' — Nov. 21, 2016

See also Log24 posts from the above date.

Sunday, February 25, 2007

Sunday February 25, 2007

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: — m759 @ 10:31 AM

Between Two Worlds

Nicolas Cage as Ghost Rider

Nicolas Cage as Ghost Rider

"I'm the only one who can
walk in both worlds.
I'm T. S. Eliot."
 
Four Quartets:

I caught the sudden look of some dead master
Whom I had known, forgotten, half recalled
     Both one and many; in the brown baked features
     The eyes of a familiar compound ghost
Both intimate and unidentifiable.
     So I assumed a double part, and cried
     And heard another's voice cry: 'What! are you here?'
Although we were not. I was still the same,
     Knowing myself yet being someone other—
     And he a face still forming; yet the words sufficed
To compel the recognition they preceded.
     And so, compliant to the common wind,
     Too strange to each other for misunderstanding,
In concord at this intersection time
     Of meeting nowhere, no before and after,
     We trod the pavement in a dead patrol.
I said: 'The wonder that I feel is easy,
     Yet ease is cause of wonder. Therefore speak:
     I may not comprehend, may not remember.'
And he: 'I am not eager to rehearse
     My thoughts and theory which you have forgotten.
     These things have served their purpose: let them be.
So with your own, and pray they be forgiven
     By others, as I pray you to forgive
     Both bad and good. Last season's fruit is eaten
And the fullfed beast shall kick the empty pail.
     For last year's words belong to last year's language
     And next year's words await another voice.
But, as the passage now presents no hindrance
     To the spirit unappeased and peregrine
     Between two worlds become much like each other,
So I find words I never thought to speak
     In streets I never thought I should revisit
     When I left my body on a distant shore.
Since our concern was speech, and speech impelled us
     To purify the dialect of the tribe
     And urge the mind to aftersight and foresight,
Let me disclose the gifts reserved for age
     To set a crown upon your lifetime's effort.
     First, the cold friction of expiring sense
Without enchantment, offering no promise
     But bitter tastelessness of shadow fruit
     As body and soul begin to fall asunder.
Second, the conscious impotence of rage
     At human folly, and the laceration
     Of laughter at what ceases to amuse.
And last, the rending pain of re-enactment
     Of all that you have done, and been; the shame
     Of motives late revealed, and the awareness
Of things ill done and done to others' harm
     Which once you took for exercise of virtue.
     Then fools' approval stings, and honour stains.
From wrong to wrong the exasperated spirit
     Proceeds, unless restored by that refining fire
     Where you must move in measure, like a dancer.'

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