Sunday, December 23, 2007

Thanks for checking in

This blög is temporarily closed for business, on account of our having run out of tokens to pay for the internets. We're working on the problem, and generally just working too much. Also, the state attorney just threw out the case against the policemen who killed Eugene Obiora, so we've had to go back in the trenches on that one. Bummer. Hopefully we'll return in the new year with some better news and out-of-focus pictures. Merry Christmas everyone!

Tuesday, December 04, 2007

Hobnobbing with the literati - again!

You should all run out and buy the latest issue of Prosopopeia, that most distinguished literary periodical. If not for the mesmeric articles about non-aesthetics and Montaigne, then for the limited edition SHÄDY ÄCRES cut-out doll!

Yes, you heard me right. This beautiful, handcrafted collector’s edition toy in black print on glossy cardboard is the perfect gift for a friend or loved one. Use it on the airplane or between meals. Decorate your refrigerator with it. Play with your kids in bed. Wait - that came out wrong.

The doll is a representation of Black Maria, a multiethnic policewoman, with different outfits to wear. If Maria forgets her place she’s got actual quotes from her superiors and colleagues printed conveniently on the back, mostly explaining how they feel about Negroes and the use of the word Negro.

Here’s the front:


Back:


If you actually cut it out and assemble it, you are less slothful than us. You should send us pictures. Seriously. There could be a prize.

Monday, December 03, 2007

*DING!* We have a personal message

To the person who googled "God is Mikkel the one for me" and was directed to SHÄDY ÄCRES: I'm pretty sure the answer is no, depending on where you put the comma. But if you want to send me money, that's fine.

The sad story of Will Miller and Jill McGill

“There’s a miller name of Will in the windmill on the hill;
There’s a breeze in the sails but the blades are standing still…”
There’s a girl in this story too, you know. Jill McGill, age sixteen.

Anyways, the old mill is cursed or something. It grinds bone meal.
Jill comes by, they make love, he kills her. I don’t know why,
And neither does Will. Tilting at the windmill from within, so to speak.

In despair, he throws her body between the grindstones.
Laughing, he throws himself from the cap of the tower.
His ghost returns every night to claim a 1/10th share of the flour.

Jill too returns, whispering: “Are these long legs of mine
No more than chalk lines to be wiped from the blackboard?”
I’m on a roll here. You will take the poetry I give you and love it.

Sunday, December 02, 2007

The irreducible fraction

One half of me tied to the pier, bobbing on the deep cobalt lake
Wading through the reeds where you can’t find a foothold
In the marshy places, half out of the water, beached like a young fox
One half decomposing on the green grass, ribs puncturing slick, grey fur
One half of me in the green, green grass by the blue, blue lake

The other half of me
Half asleep in the snow
Stuck on this mountain ledge
Keeping half an eye over the edge

Saturday, December 01, 2007

Routine activities of an evil mastermind

To give you an idea of the everyday life of an evil genius like myself, let me share with you some pictures I've taken.

Oooh, nice curtains.

Look, I used to have the exact same ones in my secret underground facility!

How I miss my evil lair. Goddamn villagers destroyed all my research when they set fire to my lab.

Luckily I escaped.

And some of my devoted henchmen managed to smuggle out a few specimens hidden deep within their body cavities.

Just wait until this baby hatches! Have you heard about the 2,5 metres long primordial arachnids that scientists believe roamed the Earth about 400 million years ago? That's nothing compared to what's in this egg.

My new base is much better concealed.

And guarded by millions of venomous snakes!

Our new uniforms are much nicer, too.

Sometimes I suspect Sara is not fully dedicated to my evil plans.

I keep telling her, if she wants to be my number two, she needs to practise her scowl.

That's better.