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.
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
“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
“The truth is you can be orphaned again and again and again. The truth is, you will be. And the secret is, this will hurt less and less each time until you can’t feel a thing. Trust me on this.”
― Chuck Palahniuk
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!
No man was ever wise by chance.
“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
“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 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.
You want to see God through your material eyes, so God manifests through matter in the form of a deity.
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.