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Post by 𝘗rincess 𝘵uvstarr on Oct 24, 2021 12:29:00 GMT
Is the book content shocking? Will I need my swooning couch? Shocking or not, one should swoon at least once a day. For medicinal purposes. I must be very healthy then, I swoon all the time. I just did a swoon there after reading the outrageous words of David A. Riley. In fact I feel so insulted I'll have another swoon. Done. I don't know how he is allowed to get away with it. How are you with duelling pistols?
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Post by dem bones on Oct 24, 2021 14:34:36 GMT
Guy Thorne - The Painted Coin: ( Pall Mall, April 1911). An artists colony in Portalone, Cornwall. Folliot is incensed that, much to the detriment of his miserable art, Charles Tremayne, his protégé, is besotted by a soppy girl. Time to invites the lovestruck oaf to a private viewing of his latest masterpiece! This, it transpires, is a monstrous depiction of Helena, Tremayne's sweetheart, in fencing garb, her face hideous with sin behind the visor. Tremayne, suitably appalled, is helpless to avenge the insult - his wrists are clamped to the chair! Gifted as he is a painter, Folliot is a mechanical mastermind of equal genius. He has contrived a torture murder that will destroy both sweethearts' lives. Bernard Capes - The Corner House: A Study in Psychology: ( Short Stories, Nov. 1909: Bag and Baggage, 1913). Gethin, freshly arrived in London to start a new job and urgently seeking accommodation, meets former workmate, Peter Acheson, on Vauxhall Bridge. Acheson recommends he try near the Horseferry Road, and sure enough, there are vacancies at Mrs. Quennel's lodging house. Acheson, who corresponds with the SPR and regards himself a sensitive, has a bad feeling about the place, but the November night is cold, and Gethin's need great. It's been a peculiar day. Fifteen years ago this month his father inexplicably vanished having come to the capital seeking work. What could have become of him? We strongly suspect his son is soon to find out. Frederick Cowles - The Headless Leper: ( Swinton & Pendlebury Public Library Bulletin, Dec. 1931: Charles Lloyd, [ed], Nightmares, 1933). " ... but no pigsty on this earth could smell so utterly foul and corrupt." First hand account of the haunting in the chapel of a medieval East Anglian Leper Hospital.
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inspiredlamb
Crab On The Rampage
Feeling grateful for the reception...
Posts: 43
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Post by inspiredlamb on Oct 24, 2021 17:08:37 GMT
Shocking or not, one should swoon at least once a day. For medicinal purposes. I must be very healthy then, I swoon all the time. I just did a swoon there after reading the outrageous words of David A. Riley. In fact I feel so insulted I'll have another swoon. Done. I don't know how he is allowed to get away with it. How are you with duelling pistols? Never met one, but I'm sure we could find something to talk about.
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inspiredlamb
Crab On The Rampage
Feeling grateful for the reception...
Posts: 43
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Post by inspiredlamb on Oct 24, 2021 17:09:53 GMT
Guy Thorne - The Painted Coin: ( Pall Mall, April 1911). An artists colony in Portalone, Cornwall. Folliot is incensed that, much to the detriment of his miserable art, Charles Tremayne, his protégé, is besotted by a soppy girl. Time to invites the lovestruck oaf to a private viewing of his latest masterpiece! This, it transpires, is a monstrous depiction of Helena, Tremayne's sweetheart, in fencing garb, her face hideous with sin behind the visor. Tremayne, suitably appalled, is helpless to avenge the insult - his wrists are clamped to the chair! Gifted as he is a painter, Folliot is a mechanical mastermind of equal genius. He has contrived a torture murder that will destroy both sweethearts' lives. Bernard Capes - The Corner House: A Study in Psychology: ( Short Stories, Nov. 1909: Bag and Baggage, 1913). Gethin, freshly arrived in London to start a new job and urgently seeking accommodation, meets former workmate, Peter Acheson, on Vauxhall Bridge. Acheson recommends he try near the Horseferry Road, and sure enough, there are vacancies at Mrs. Quennel's lodging house. Acheson, who corresponds with the SPR and regards himself a sensitive, has a bad feeling about the place, but the November night is cold, and Gethin's need great. It's been a peculiar day. Fifteen years ago this month his father inexplicably vanished having come to the capital seeking work. What could have become of him? We strongly suspect his son is soon to find out. Frederick Cowles - The Headless Leper: ( Swinton & Pendlebury Public Library Bulletin, Dec. 1931: Charles Lloyd, [ed], Nightmares, 1933). " ... but no pigsty on this earth could smell so utterly foul and corrupt." First hand account of the haunting in the chapel of a medieval East Anglian Leper Hospital. I have to tell you, I really look forward to your synopses.
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Post by Shrink Proof on Oct 24, 2021 18:05:00 GMT
I have to warn you I'm not easily shocked though. Even though I was brought up by nuns I'm very modern. Here is myself and Shrink Proof in one of the most exciting places for adventure and intellectual derring-do on our turnip shaped planet! A place of poets (who spend their time writing sonnets to me), authors, and philosophers: The Vault Working Men's Club. The lounge naturally. A painfully accurate picture. But I would like to point out that I only hit the absinthe when shunned by a lady.
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Post by dem bones on Oct 25, 2021 9:45:21 GMT
I have to tell you, I really look forward to your synopses. Thank you. I liked your dad, and his books remain a big deal to me. As for this posthumous collaboration, although Hugh only selected (as it were) two of the stories, it could easily pass for Vol III of Gaslit Nightmares. Seems that way to me, anyhow. "And now my grisly experiences began ...."Grant Allen - Our Scientific Observations on a Ghost: ( Belgravia, July 1878, as by J. Arbuthnot Wilson; Strange Stories, 1884). Our narrator, Jim, and fellow Oxford bachelor, Henry Stevens spend their gap year at Egerton Castle, an Elizabethan manor house on the Flintshire coast, which is allegedly haunted by Algernon Egerton, decapitated for his involvement in Monmouth's thwarted rebellion. To settle the young gents' dispute over the existence of ghosts, the phantom Algernon materialises - he's since been reunited with his head - and subjects himself to several experiments, including an attempted vivisection. But how can a spectre prove to a stubborn sceptic that he is what he claims to be? Thomas Burke - Miracle in Suburbia: ( Night Pieces: Eighteen Stories, 1935). Joe Brown, impoverished young rogue, is approached by 'Old Bonehead,' mysterious lurker in the local coffee shop, who offers to hand over a whopping £50 in return for his retrieval of a porcelain goblet of Chinese origin, stolen from the Bool museum. In short, Joe is required to mug the alleged thief near Sloane Square tube station and steal back the relic. There will be no repercussions: theft from a thief is no crime, and besides, Joe will be under the old timer's miraculous protection hereafter. To prove it, he takes up a scythe and slices the youth's wrist. Not even a scratch! Joe duly earns the money. The victim put up quite a struggle - he drew a razor across Joe's throat! - but again, no harm done. The suddenly wealthy young man can't believe his luck. And then ... J. H. Pearce - Ego Speaks: ( Tales from the Masque, 1894). Wretched postmortem non-exploits of a murdered man. "If only annihilation might have followed the stoppage of the pulse." Essential reading for Monday morning. Death's release is not all it's cracked up to be.
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Post by 𝘗rincess 𝘵uvstarr on Oct 25, 2021 12:15:30 GMT
I have to warn you I'm not easily shocked though. Even though I was brought up by nuns I'm very modern. Here is myself and Shrink Proof in one of the most exciting places for adventure and intellectual derring-do on our turnip shaped planet! A place of poets (who spend their time writing sonnets to me), authors, and philosophers: The Vault Working Men's Club. The lounge naturally. A painfully accurate picture. But I would like to point out that I only hit the absinthe when shunned by a lady. Mine was a bitter lemon. Because I'm not a fiend.
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Post by Shrink Proof on Oct 25, 2021 12:25:05 GMT
Mine was a bitter lemon. Because I'm not a fiend. It's a strange picture. It's hard to tell if you're sampling a drink or drinking a sample.
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Post by 𝘗rincess 𝘵uvstarr on Oct 25, 2021 12:34:25 GMT
Mine was a bitter lemon. Because I'm not a fiend. It's a strange picture. It's hard to tell if you're sampling a drink or drinking a sample. Apparantly there is an art to drinking, or rather preparing absinthe. The absinthe ritual of La Louche involves adding iced water which turns the drink an opalescent milky green. You pour the water over a perforated spoon holding a lump of sugar that rests over the glass.
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Post by Dr Strange on Oct 25, 2021 12:55:05 GMT
The absinthe ritual of La Louche involves adding iced water which turns the drink an opalescent milky green. You pour the water over a perforated spoon holding a lump of sugar that rests over the glass. Absinthe made a brief comeback in popularity in the 90s, and I remember being in pubs where they went through the whole ritual when serving it. But I remember the absinthe being poured over the sugar cube, which was then briefly set on fire before the water was poured over it.
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Post by 𝘗rincess 𝘵uvstarr on Oct 25, 2021 13:13:21 GMT
The absinthe ritual of La Louche involves adding iced water which turns the drink an opalescent milky green. You pour the water over a perforated spoon holding a lump of sugar that rests over the glass. Absinthe made a brief comeback in popularity in the 90s, and I remember being in pubs where they went through the whole ritual when serving it. But I remember the absinthe being poured over the sugar cube, which was then briefly set on fire before the water was poured over it. Apparently that's a newer phenomenon and frowned upon by true absinthe connoisseurs.
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Post by 𝘗rincess 𝘵uvstarr on Oct 25, 2021 13:23:58 GMT
Absinthe made a brief comeback in popularity in the 90s, and I remember being in pubs where they went through the whole ritual when serving it. But I remember the absinthe being poured over the sugar cube, which was then briefly set on fire before the water was poured over it. Apparently that's a newer phenomenon and frowned upon by true absinthe connoisseurs. I'm sure there are some Decadent and/or Aesthete Fin de siècle types on here, so perhaps some modern day Paul Verlaine or Arthur Rimbaud could enlighten us as to La Fée Verte?
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Post by 𝘗rincess 𝘵uvstarr on Oct 25, 2021 13:50:04 GMT
This man has the right idea.
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Post by 𝘗rincess 𝘵uvstarr on Oct 25, 2021 14:54:44 GMT
The absinthe ritual of La Louche involves adding iced water which turns the drink an opalescent milky green. You pour the water over a perforated spoon holding a lump of sugar that rests over the glass. Absinthe made a brief comeback in popularity in the 90s, and I remember being in pubs where they went through the whole ritual when serving it. But I remember the absinthe being poured over the sugar cube, which was then briefly set on fire before the water was poured over it. There is only one way we can get to the bottom of this Dr Strange. You must become an absinthe fiend. Please drink copious quantities, making sure to follow the aforementioned La Louche ritual, and report back. Also please wear a bowler hat when imbibing it, as it seems that wearing a bowler hat is compulsory for absinthe drinkers in La Belle Époque. Good luck my heroic man!
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inspiredlamb
Crab On The Rampage
Feeling grateful for the reception...
Posts: 43
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Post by inspiredlamb on Oct 25, 2021 14:58:08 GMT
I have to tell you, I really look forward to your synopses. Thank you. I liked your dad, and his books remain a big deal to me. As for this posthumous collaboration, although Hugh only selected (as it were) two of the stories, it could easily pass for Vol III of Gaslit Nightmares. Seems that way to me, anyhow. "And now my grisly experiences began ...."Grant Allen - Our Scientific Observations on a Ghost: ( Belgravia, July 1878, as by J. Arbuthnot Wilson; Strange Stories, 1884). Our narrator, Jim, and fellow Oxford bachelor, Henry Stevens spend their gap year at Egerton Castle, an Elizabethan manor house on the Flintshire coast, which is allegedly haunted by Algernon Egerton, decapitated for his involvement in Monmouth's thwarted rebellion. To settle the young gents' dispute over the existence of ghosts, the phantom Algernon materialises - he's since been reunited with his head - and subjects himself to several experiments, including an attempted vivisection. But how can a spectre prove to a stubborn sceptic that he is what he claims to be? Thomas Burke - Miracle in Suburbia: ( Night Pieces: Eighteen Stories, 1935). Joe Brown, impoverished young rogue, is approached by 'Old Bonehead,' mysterious lurker in the local coffee shop, who offers to hand over a whopping £50 in return for his retrieval of a porcelain goblet of Chinese origin, stolen from the Bool museum. In short, Joe is required to mug the alleged thief near Sloane Square tube station and steal back the relic. There will be no repercussions: theft from a thief is no crime, and besides, Joe will be under the old timer's miraculous protection hereafter. To prove it, he takes up a scythe and slices the youth's wrist. Not even a scratch! Joe duly earns the money. The victim put up quite a struggle - he drew a razor across Joe's throat! - but again, no harm done. The suddenly wealthy young man can't believe his luck. And then ... J. H. Pearce - Ego Speaks: ( Tales from the Masque, 1894). Wretched postmortem non-exploits of a murdered man. "If only annihilation might have followed the stoppage of the pulse." Essential reading for Monday morning. Death's release is not all it's cracked up to be. Wow, thank you! That's quite an accolade.
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