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Stumpage Reports
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Monday, March 29, 2004 :::
Again, the Garage Sale Vikings
I went garage saleing again last Saturday. We hit twenty sales in about two and a half hours. One guys wife was with us, so I guess that meant we had a Garage Sale Valkyrie with us too. They bought a bunch of junk. Although the Budman beer stein one guy got was kinda tacky, and apparently a bargain at $3.00. I did get a big-ass Luray Pastel plate for only $1.00. My friend Eighteenth Century Lady collects these and usually pays $10 to $12 for 12-inch dinner plates, this one is at least 16 inches so I think I got a good deal.
More UDC Crap . . .
Friday at work I pulled a whole cart full of UDC stuff from the storage center next door. I went in on Saturday afternoon (my day off!) to go through it looking for Confederate Monument stuff. I found a few good things. I also found a narrative about a slave that had been supposedly kidnapped by the Yankees to dig trenches for them. According to this, the slave escape back to his master. It was full of totally sickening dialogue on the part of the slave character: "Sho' 'nuff, massa' good to me." It wasn't even that good. I thought about reproducing some of it here, but it would probably lead to even more white supremacist ads at the top of my blog. I was just so goddamn happy sitting there digging through boxes of old paper and scrapbooks.
Quote of the Day:
I am writing this under an appreciable mental strain, since by tonight I shall be no more. Penniless, and at the end of my supply of the drug which alone makes life endurable, I can bear the torture no longer; and shall cast myself from this garrett window into the squalid street below. Do not think from my slavery to morphine that I am a weakling or a degenerate. When you have read these hastily scrawled pages you may guess; though never fully realise, why it is that I must have forgetfullness or death.
--- H.P. Lovecraft, Dagon, 1917.
Oh, what the hell, there can never be too much Lovecraft, here's one of my favorites . . .
If heaven is merciful, it will some day efface from my consciousness the sight that I saw, and let me live my last years in peace. I cannot sleep at night now, and have to take opiates when it thunders. The thing came abruptly and unannounced; a demon, ratlike scurrying from pits remote and unimaginable, a hellish panting and stifled grunting, and then from that opening beneath the chimney a burst of multitudinous and leprous life - a loathsome night-spawned flood of organic corruption more devastatingly hideous than the blackest conjurations of mortal madness and morbidity. Seething, stewing, surging, bubbling like serpents' slime it rolled up and out of that yawning hole, spreading like a septic contagion and streaming from the cellar at every point of egress - streaming out to scatter through the accursed midnight forests and strew fear, madness, and death.
--- H.P. Lovecraft, The Lurking Fear, 1923.
::: posted by tom at 8:58 AM
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