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A Prophet and a Liar

A Prophet and a Liar

Hi all,

I think I shall enroll in a project bigger than my tiny self. That is, interpret with my puny illustrating abilities some of my favorite verses:

The first one to receive this shameful treatement will be:

The Singing-Woman from the Wood's Edge
by the magnificent Edna St. Vincent Millay

I'll leave you with a bit of the text so you can relate...

What should I be but a prophet and a liar,
Whose mother was a leprechaun, whose father was a friar?
Teethed on a crucifix and cradled under water,
What should I be but the fiend’s god-daughter?

And who should be my playmates but the adder and the frog,
That was got beneath a furze-bush and born in a bog?
And what should be my singing, that was christened at an altar,
But Aves and Credos and Psalms out of the Psalter?

In awe of us all

Paris Hilton Crying at Her Own, Beautiful Funeral

Back Issues

Here I am again,

I must be REALLY bored at work (all you wanking music magazine editor in america reply!).

I'm hereby posting my back issues. For your eyes only.


A Face Of The Cat Named Isaiah



Jude the Obscure



My Ancestor In A Full Navy Uniform



Goldbach's conjecture is one of the oldest unsolved problems in number theory and in all of mathematics



Mutant Monks From Outer Space



Behold! The Mighty Power of Godzilla!

First Entry

Hello eventual readers,
we are the Friends of Enemies










We shall post the fantastic series
D u m b D r a w i n g s, among other random thoughts.

rejoyce!
FoE


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