| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Kidnapped Santa Claus by L. Frank Baum: very much, and all for the simple reason that he made children happy.
The Caves of the Daemons are five in number. A broad pathway leads
up to the first cave, which is a finely arched cavern at the foot of
the mountain, the entrance being beautifully carved and decorated. In
it resides the Daemon of Selfishness. Back of this is another cavern
inhabited by the Daemon of Envy. The cave of the Daemon of Hatred is
next in order, and through this one passes to the home of the Daemon
of Malice--situated in a dark and fearful cave in the very heart of
the mountain. I do not know what lies beyond this. Some say there
are terrible pitfalls leading to death and destruction, and this may
very well be true. However, from each one of the four caves mentioned
A Kidnapped Santa Claus |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Woman and Labour by Olive Schreiner: the women of civilised races are peculiarly tempted, unconsciously, to
slip; from the noble height of a condition of the most strenuous social
activity, into a condition of complete, helpless, and inactive parasitism,
without being clearly aware of the fact themselves, and without society's
becoming so--the woman who has ceased to rear her own offspring, or who has
ceased to bear offspring at all, and who performs no other productive
social function, yet shields the fact from her own eyes by dwelling on the
fact that she is a woman, in whom the capacity is at least latent. (There
is, indeed, an interesting analogous tendency on the part of the parasitic
male, wherever found, to shield his true condition from his own eyes and
those of the world by playing at the ancient ancestral forms of male
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Call of Cthulhu by H. P. Lovecraft: Upon retiring, he had had an unprecedented dream of great Cyclopean
cities of Titan blocks and sky-flung monoliths, all dripping with
green ooze and sinister with latent horror. Hieroglyphics had
covered the walls and pillars, and from some undetermined point
below had come a voice that was not a voice; a chaotic sensation
which only fancy could transmute into sound, but which he attempted
to render by the almost unpronounceable jumble of letters: "Cthulhu
fhtagn."
This verbal jumble was the key to the recollection
which excited and disturbed Professor Angell. He questioned the
sculptor with scientific minuteness; and studied with frantic
Call of Cthulhu |
