“Madness is the absence of a creation.”

— Foucault

Nothing is true, everything is permitted.

–W.S.Burroughs

 

It’s all true

–Tracey Thorne

Hi, I am Theresa Williams. After I have been together with Anderson for years, he suddenly left me. I have done everything to bring him back, but it was all for nothing. I wanted him back so much because of all the love I felt for him. I tried everything, I begged him, I made impossible promises, but he refused.

I told my closest friend of my misery and she proposed to go to a magician with my problem. to cast a spell that would bring Anderson back to me. I am  not the type to fall for something like that, but I did not have a choice. I mailed the spell caster and he was quick to respond, that everything would be ook and within three days, Anderson would come back to me. And so he cast his spell.

I could not believe my eyes, when on the second day, around 4 in the afternoon, the phone rang and it was Anderson and he said, he was sorry, and he missed me so much and that he wanted to have me back, I was so happy and I went to him and we live together now as happy as you can be.

Since then, I promised, to tell everyone with relationship problems to go to the same one and true and mighty spell caster that helped me bring my love back to me, so that he helps them the way that he has helped me.

1) Love Spell
2) Lost Love Spell
3) Divorce Spell
4) Marriage Spell
5) Binding Spell
6) Parting Spell
7) Death Spell
8.) Promotion spell
9) satisfy you lover spell
10) Lottery

Contact this magnificient man, if you have a problem for a long-lasting solution!

And this is where the story started.

Susan Petrie, who played the part of Janine Tudor, could not cry on demand.  Cronenberg used onions to make her cry. But the first takes did not go well and as Cronenberg ran out of onions, Petrie allowed him to slap her in the face. When her  face was numb from all the repetitions, Cronenberg had to settle with takes he did not really like.

They sat in front of the diner eating fish and chips and drinking from the same bottle of beer. A homeless guy came along, muttering his never-ending story of peril and dismay, with no real interest in what’s going on or if anybody is listening. Only this time, I pulled out some change I had in my purse. He glanced at the coins, put them in his pocket and went on on his path.

• So, what did you expect?
• I don’t know, at least a nod of appreciation?!
• For what, what did you do? Prolonging his misery, for the few coins you tossed him? Like it was yours to decide who has money and who hasn’t?
• He could at least toast me with the cheap wine he’s buying.
• I don’t know if he’s into wine. To me, he did not look like a wine-person.
• Most homeless guys are skinny, so I did not think of him as a beer person.
  -That comes from walking. Constant walking. That actually is a more healthy lifestyle than sitting in a bureau all day.

The conception here is, that we are living a mediocre life, far from all extreme ways of pursuing happiness: But this is not true. The whole planet burns up from our exhausts, we wage war on most eastern countries, and when we do not wage war with guns, we do it with our money. We kill for pleasure as we eat more than what we need to survive and we have installed a gigantic killing machine of an industrial scale. When you’re rich, you are part of an obscene machinery to store wealth, when you’re poor, you’re part of the same machinery as you struggle to keep from becoming even poorer. If this is not extreme, I don’t know what is.

Andreji, father of Tukor, reign of the Dark Lands. Tukor had himself three sons and an abandoned daughter because he disdained female heirs he cast her away into the plains. Two of his sons were slain in a raid by the pale men of the north, when they were driven into the Dark Lands by a drought that lasted for 5 years, destroyed most of their live-stock, dried all the rivers of the north. They fled in draughts over the frontier, tattered, sly, worn out from their diet of blood they drew from their cattle. At night they slowly crept up the castle walls in search for food and water. Their limbs were elongated and glistened white in the upcoming moon, but they were weak and with their sticks furnished with sharpened flint stone they were no match for the king’s guard. Still, some of them managed to sneak into royal tract of the castle, moving slowly and silently close to the walls until they met the brothers Tiron and Elion, both thirteen of age, slender, but large for their age, with swords in hand, woken up from the turmoil in the castle. They slained five of the pale men before they were overcome. The pale men seemed to be dissolving from the castle walls, more and more of them pouring out of the draperies, emerge from underneath tables, drop from ceilings, rise from between the planks of the floor. When the king’s guard arrived, they cut through the pale men like weed and found Tiron and Elion slain and covered in their own blood and that of the pale men under a heap of cut off limbs and smashed-in skulls.

Adriel, the remaining third brother was a weakling who had hidden in his bedroom: He had heard the shouts and the battle cries of his brothers, but he was too afraid to go outside. And so his reign took its course.

His father detested him for his survival and so Adriel had had him killed and his body torn and taken  away and scattered in the hills.

Instead of force he relied on his wits and a tireless plotting and scheming to weave a tight net of dependencies to rule the kingdom. He was more into peace than he was into war, war forced his hand and rushed him into decisions. Yet he carried out his war with a fierce, almost reckless rage that threw his men into impossible situations. Yet, more often than not he emerged victorious and brought home with him blazing victories and grew the empire and secured its borders.

The religious zealots.

The guilds.

The traders.

The artists (artists only appear rarely in fantasy novels…)