Famine: Famine is probably the biggest cock of them all. He doesn’t waste bozos by impaling them on sharp objects, but rather opts for the more “hands-off” approach. He just jacks up the prices of food, causes droughts and/or eats all the food that he can find. He’s like a ten-time World Eating Champ, and he manages to kill people simply by either scarfing down every Moon Pie and Ho-Ho in a twenty mile radius or becoming a corporate asshole big-wig and getting rid of the Dollar Menu at Wendy’s so college students around the world perish from starvation. He’s like Arn Anderson in the sense that he’s the craftiest and most diabolical of the Four Horsemen.



Every time I hear Johnny Cash read that line about Death riding forth and bringing Hell with him at the end of “When the Man Comes Around”, I get a chill down my spine.  Death is without a doubt the most badass of the Horsemen.  He doesn’t even have a weapon or a method of killing, all he does is show up and the shit hits the fan big time.  Who besides Bill S. Preston, Esquire and Ted Theodore Logan can stand up to the physical embodiment of death in a fight?  Nobody, that’s who.  Death rides around on his pale green horse (The original Greek indicates the color of Death’s horse as being the sickly sort of pale green that people turn when they’re dying or recently dead.  Since “green horse” doesn’t sound all that badass, the English translation is “pale horse”) and everything that he comes in contact with dies.  It doesn’t get more badass than that.

FROM http://www.badassoftheweek.com/horsemen.html

Glendower insists that he can call spirits from the “vasty deep,” that is, from vast depths, presumably the underworld.


The descent to the Underworld is easy. Night and day the gates of shadowy Death stand open wide, but to retrace your steps, to climb back to the upper air—there the struggle, there the labor lies.
Sibyl of Cumae – AENEID

I moved to New York City for my health. I’m paranoid and it was the only place where my fears were justified. Anita Weiss


“You’re not too fat. You’re not too loud. You’re not too smart. You’re not unladylike. There is nothing wrong with you.”

—Jessica Valenti, Full Frontal Feminism



“We can’t solve our problems using the same kind of thinking we used when we created them.” – Albert Einstein /-all BB quotes-1st. Edition-\

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The less people tolerated us, the more we withdrew from society, from life itself. As we became subjects of King Alcohol, shivering denizens of his mad realm, the chilling vapour that is loneliness settled down. It thickened, ever becoming blacker. Some of us sought out sordid places, hoping to find understanding companionship and approval. Momentarily we did – then would come oblivion and the awful awakening to face the hideous Four Horsemen – Terror, Bewilderment, Frustration, Despair. Unhappy drinkers who read this page will understand!

Bill W.

Across the street somebody had delirium tremens in the front yard and a mixed quartet tore what was left of the night into small strips and did what they could to make the strips miserable. While this was going on the exotic brunette didn’t move more than one eyelash. Raymond Chandler

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“But anybody who’s never had delirium tremens even in their early stages may not understand that it’s not so much a physical pain but a mental anguish indescribable to those ignorant people who don’t drink and accuse drinkers of irresponsibility.”

― Jack Kerouac, Big Sur

Oh my fur and whiskers! -The White Rabbit.

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“We no longer need fur for warmth and protection. There are plenty of textiles that provide that today. It’s pure whim and vanity to choose to wear fur. It shows a level of ignorance or lack of concern that reflects poorly on the wearer.”

― Tim Gunn, Tim Gunn’s Fashion Bible: The Fascinating History of Everything in Your Closet

“The hidden mist of forgotten truth is not for the mundane eye to see… ☥” ― Luis Marques, Kemet – The Year of Revelation.

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The wrathful deities are infuriated with compassion; they are not angry. They are like a mother taming a mischievous child. The mother loves the child and becomes infuriated in order to help her child. The wrathful deities arise with intense compassion, taming the very coarse afflictive emotions of sentient beings. Their compassion is even more intense than the compassion of peaceful deities.

Garnchen Rinpoche

“I thought about the days i had handed over to a bottle..the nights i can’t remember..the mornings i slept thru..all the time spent running from myself.” ― Mitch Albom, For One More Day.

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The Boarding House

MRS. MOONEY was a butcher’s daughter. She was a woman who was quite able to keep things to herself: a determined woman. She had married her father’s foreman and opened a butcher’s shop near Spring Gardens. But as soon as his father-in-law was dead Mr. Mooney began to go to the devil. He drank, plundered the till, ran headlong into debt. It was no use making him take the pledge: he was sure to break out again a few days after. By fighting his wife in the presence of customers and by buying bad meat he ruined his business. One night he went for his wife with the cleaver and she had to sleep a neighbour’s house.

After that they lived apart. She went to the priest and got a separation from him with care of the children. She would give him neither money nor food nor house-room; and so he was obliged to enlist himself as a sheriff’s man. He was a shabby stooped little drunkard with a white face and a white moustache white eyebrows, pencilled above his little eyes, which were veined and raw; and all day long he sat in the bailiff’s room, waiting to be put on a job.

James Joyce.