All will love me and despair!
As I stood in line (vino bottle in hand) at our local booze merchants on Thursday evening, my wandering eyes alighted on the following Evening Herald headline:
ENYA STALKER DISAPPEARS
Now while the real story behind said headline may well be a tragic, violent, sad & lonely one (I didn't actually read it), the first thoughts that popped into my noggin were fantastical/whimsical in nature.
Enya, dark sorceress of the Celtic twilight that she is, had (with a single nano-thought) "vanished" her stalker from our world. Transporting him across the vast reaches of time and space to the "Dimension of Endless Weeping".
Hot stuff. Can't blame the Herald for leading with it on their front page.
For Enya is, of course, not a flesh and guts person like you and I. The kind of miserable simian wretch who shits, shops, scratches his/her hole, watches Home & Away etc. Far from it. She's an ethereal demi-goddess of the ancient world – lifted straight from the bloated appendices of The Lord of the Rings. Her beauty radiant. Her awesome wrath terrible to behold. Like Galadriel, crossed with Irish mist, blessed with a lucrative record deal.
The long-suffering villagers who cower at the base of her castle know only too well the price of her fury. On those dark days when her weekly delivery of mithril biscuits runs even a little late, she floats majestically out the castle gates and onward through the town. Eyes black as deepest obsidian. Lightning shooting wildly from her fingertips.
As she glides by on a cloud of pixie dust (an expression of impossible inscrutableness on her face) windows and doors are hurriedly shut and bolted. Inside their homes families shiver in the half-light, muttering desperate Hosannas. Those unlucky (or foolish) enough to be left standing without have but milliseconds to gaze upon her & ask themselves, "I wonder what she's thinking?", before they're magicked away to the nightmare hell-kingdom of Krotox. There to spend an eternity trapped in cages of living flame. With their faces melted off.
The moral of the story? Be careful who you stalk (or fuck with).
February 28, 2009
6 responses to All will love me and despair!
I love it.
I came by in the hopes of some baby photos though. Any more of those going?
Only about 35,000. I’ll email you a few.
Agreed. I hate this ‘normalisation’ of pseudo-science, idiotic horoscopes, endless articles on homeopathy, reiki and psychic chatlines etc. Grr.
And one presumes that the Herald headline was misspelled too
Oops. Fixed. Herald please forgive me.
Er, not sure what you’re agreeing to. I don’t have an issue with any of the above. They’re not targets. It was merely mildly amusing shit about the Lady Enya!
Ha. Reading the headline first i assumed the story was about mistress Enya’s concern that her one true fan was absent. Maybe she was now missing his (i assume him) constant attention and had contacted the authorities to trace him and offer him assistance to return to his post.
She needs our constant fealty and adoration. Otherwise she ceases to exist.