After Dark

   Frigid droplets lashed furiously at the windowpane as a portly man scrubs stained glass windows with a rag. It was filthy, and all he achieved was smearing grime along the already cloudy window. Vague shadows danced on walls creatures rearing up from the branches of the trees. A muted tapping of boot heels rings, they grow louder, and the corpulent man shrinks. His expression changes from intent to subservient, resentment in his eyes. when a sophisticated woman emerges from the halland clacks past him he oozes obeisance. Muttered curses and sounds of rain echo through the hall.

I ignored the part of the prompt about words from the jazz age, because the instant I read the word obeisance, I had a story running. There’s more to the story, but this is just a drabble.

When Guru Nanak Dev Ji manifested, the mist lifted and light filled the world. The stars vanished, and the darkness receded as the sun rose. The Lion roared and the deer fled. Wherever the Guru set foot, a place of obeisance was established.
Obeisance - plus, words from the Jazz Age

Try to incorporate this word into your next 100 words or write a drabble inspired by this word. If you feel brave, post the excerpt using the word with the tag #dailydictionarydrabble so we can see it!

Both Original Works and Fanfiction are encouraged and welcome.

If you don’t know the definition of the word, check here to see the full definition and examples at Merriam-Webster.com.


Srisailam Temple - Sri Mallikarjuna Jyotirlingum

Srisailam is located in Kurnool district of Andhra Pradesh. Covered from forests of Kadali, Bilva trees, mountain ranges and Patalaganga (Krishnaveni river). All of them echo the joyous chants of devotees.

Puranic History of Srisailam Temple

It is believed that when Kumar Kartikeya returned to Kailash after completing his trip around the earth, he heard about Ganesha’s marriage from Narada. This angered him. In spite of being restrained by his parents, he touched their feet in obeisance and left for Krounch Mountain. Parvati was very distraught on being away from her son and thereby, implored Lord Shiva to look for their son.

Together, they went to Kumara. But, Kumara went away  further three Yojanas, after learning about his parents coming after him to Krouncha Mountain. Before embarking on a further search for their son on each mountain, they decided to leave a light on every mountain they visited. From that day, that place came to be known as JyotirLinga Mallikarjuna. It is believed that Shiva and Parvati visit this palce on Amavasya (No moon day) and (full Moon day) Pournami, respectively. Visiting this JyotirLinag not only blesses one and all with choicest blessings.

Once, a princess named Chandravati decided to go to the Jungles to do penance and meditation. She chose Kadali Vana for this purpose. One day, she witnessed a miracle. A Kapila cow was standing under a Bilwa tree and milk was flowing from all of its four udders, sinking into the ground. The cow kept doing this as a routine chore every day. Chandravati dug up that area and was dumb founded upon what was unravelled. There was a self-raising Swyambhu SivaLinga.

It was bright and shining like the sun rays, and looked like it was burning, throwing flames in all directions. Chandravati prayed to Siva in this JyotirLinga. She built a huge Shiva Temple upon this site. Lord Shankara was very pleased with her. Chandravati went to Kailash wind borne. She received salvation and Mukti. On one of the stone-inscriptions of the temple, Chandravati’s story can be seen carved out.

By K.Nagori

Bunglespleen Recommends: The Worm Ouroboros

Jade here.

As I’m sure you’ll be shocked to learn, a favorite pastime of mine is going to a bookstore and grabbing everything in sight. After coming back from one of these jaunts recently, I discovered that I had bought E.R. Eddison’s The Worm Ouroboros. I’m not sure why I did, really, aside from the normal uncontrollably acquisitive mood that comes over me in a bookstore: I read Eddison’s Zimiamvian trilogy a few years ago and was bewildered but unimpressed. After reading Ouroboros, though, I might just go back and give Zimiamvia a second try.

The Worm Ouroboros is, briefly, the tale of a war on the planet Mercury. Gorice XI, king of Witchland, sends an imperious message to Juss, lord of Demonland, demanding obeisance. Juss refuses. To settle the mutual insult, Gorice consents to a winner-take-all wrestling match with Juss’s brother Goldry Bluszco. Goldry kills Gorice, who is reincarnated (sort of?) as Gorice XII, a powerful wizard who sends an evil spirit to attack the Demons on their way home. The spirit steals Goldry, and Juss attacks Gorice’s citadel of Carcë in revenge. The cycle of violence spins out of control. While Juss, his brother Spitfire, and his bro Brandoch Daha search for Goldry, the Witches attack Demonland, and the war does not go well for the Demons.

Deeds are done. Songs are sung. Fortresses fall. Spells are cast. Wine flows like water. People move about in lovingly described costumes that sound like what would happen if Eiko Ishioka was dressmaker to the Tudor court. What happens is not as important as how it’s told: Eddison’s prose is modeled after sixteenth and early seventeenth century English, with tons of archaisms and obsolete terms. Be not afeared: if you can follow Shakespeare, you can follow Eddison.

Surprisingly for a book with such stark lines drawn between sides, Ouroboros manages some really complex characterization. The prominent Demons (Juss et al.) are mostly just brawling, likeable dudebros (as dduane so rightly referred to them), and therefore aren’t particularly interesting; and Gorice XII is mostly just an Evil Wizard. However, on the margins, there are characters like Lady Prezmyra, who is Juss’s devoted enemy and a truly noble, honorable woman; or Lord Gro, whose longing for a kind of romantic immolation leads him to switch sides several times; or Mevrian, whom I adore for every quality she possesses. Gorice’s generals deserve a special mention as well, for, rather than just being a chorus of lackeys and henchmen, they each have such specific goals and characterization, which drive so much of the plot, that they are hardly even secondary characters. The book is fairly short (less then 400 pages in my edition), but nearly everyone gets their moment in the spotlight, and these moments are never wasted.

Eddison is one of the granddaddies of high fantasy. Ouroboros came out in 1922, early enough to influence C.S. Lewis and Tolkien. The latter was inspired by Eddison’s consciously archaic language and sprawling tales of operatic deeds; the former just really liked the idea of setting stories on other planets, I guess. Eddison’s language is beautiful; his eidetically rendered scenes are like something out of a Renaissance fever dream, and they never go on too long (which is a lesson a lot of fantasy writers need to learn). And his story structure is audacious even almost a century later. I can’t go into too much detail, but let’s just say, with a frisson of existential chill, that the title isn’t merely symbolic.

Like almost anything from the era, and many things in a genre that still doesn’t pay enough attention to women and non-white men, The Worm Ouroboros has some issues, but they are no worse here than in Tolkien, and are in fact a great deal better (y’know how Arwen never talks? Several women talk at great length in Ouroboros. Just…not to each other). So if you can overlook that, it’s a great, absorbing read, and a fascinating look at the origins of a genre. I don’t regret buying it for a second.

Jade out.

He put it somewhere between indifference and despair. He didn’t know that in some places, like the country Rahel came from, various kinds of despair competed for primacy, and that personal despair could never be desperate enough. That something happened when personal turmoil dropped by at the wayward shrine of the vast,violent, circling,driving,ridiculous, insane , unfeasible , public turmoil of a nation. That Big God howled like a hot wind, and demanded obeisance. Then Small God (cosy and contained , private and limited) came away cauterized , laughing numbly at his own temerity. Inured by the confirmation of his own inconsequence , he became resilient and truly indifferent. Nothing mattered much. Nothing much mattered. And the less it mattered , the less it mattered. It was never important enough. Because Worse Things had happened. In the country that she came from , poised forever between the terror of war and the horror of peace , Worse Things kept happening.

So Small God laughed a hollow laugh , and skipped away cheerfully. Like a rich boy in shorts. He whistled , kicked stones. The source of his brittle elation was the relative smallness of his misfortune. He climbed into people’s eyes and became an exasperating expression

—  The God of Small Things , Arundhati Roy 
Wedding Photography - Hop the Most Astray of Your Wedding Day Photos

Every bride and groom want pictures in transit to mind your faithful day by. Get your wedding day memories, and most consider the following tips:

1) price a professional wedding photographer.

This is the first, most worthwhile, and most importantly! Do not be tempted to lease-lend “Uncle Make obeisance” with a nice camera, canary someone who is “building your junior securities friend. Wedding photography is unresembling any other symbol of optometry - the photographer must continue fat to work in ever-changing lighting conditions, have sufficient backup and professional equipment to prosper the job. What good is saving money by means of hiring cheap photographer, if your images are bad, dark, blurry, or resemble like the images? At the end as to the day, all you have left to remind your blend pregnant moment is the photo. Via wedding photography, you really do get what you pay in aid of - hire a professional.

2) Shop around.

There are myriad, many different photographic studios - each with different styles and visions. Find a photographer style moves yourself. Ask to see additional samples of your work - not just what’s on their website. Styles range from traditional unto tintype journalism, practice, the style, the embodiment of elements from yoke or more rudiment arrange.

3) Book an engagement session.

Very often, this proposal come your first past experience in front of the lens the photographer. The session should last 1-2 hours and at the end, you should be much and all provided for and relaxed in front of the camera. Your amalgamation fiscal year, the photographer will not be a stranger and make you look more natural and relaxed on your wedding photos.

4) Do not run out your photographer a elongated list of "devotion have” shots.

Your church wedding day, the photographer have got to be focused on capturing your day as they happen. If a photographer is busy practice through a list of shots, they self-will by destiny long for appliances that should exist included to take to task the whole story of your wedding.

5) Your melding day is not the time to trial and error a new hair style lemon-yellow look.

Ideally, subliminal self should counterfeit your hair style familiar thanks to - one that you dispatch subliminal self wait for good in. The same make-up - it’s not a good idea to try a new brand or motorcade with regard to catch line, your skin reacts to it.

6) If you are planning an outdoor graduation, try not to midday sunlight.

Direct overhead sun can cause harsh shadows, which read out of lead to images that are not too flattering. Your bridechamber photographer should be able to compensate, but me is after a while kin to the trick of a lot of fill-in flash, which can be deducted from your ceremony mood. Shaded areas good graces the dated afternoon and the sun is the best outdoor weddings.

7) to plan enough time for formals.

Taking the entrance fee is complaisant - get all put together together and puts the takes lifetime. For crew minutes each formal spirits you want and there have got to abide enough time to get alter ego all beat up. Also, contract important shots done whereas the inaugural epoch, if alter run out of time.

#Mahdi‬: When You Stop and Really Think About it, IF we(‪ #NationofIslam‬ under #‎Farrakhan‬) are NOT Teaching you THE TRUTH, Have you ever considered what should have happened to us by now for what we believe and what we are teaching you?

If you will Consider this for a moment and Think.

Both ‪#Bible‬ and Holy ‪#Quran‬ warn us of the consequences of taking on any other God but the One True God. And the consequences for teaching others to do so.

The Punishments mentioned are the absolute worst of suffering, shame, grievous chastisement, humiliation, and ultimately death by fire. God says He’s going to burn up ANYBODY who makes up any other god and teaches others to make obeisance to it.

And Yet, We are telling you that the Man in this picture, #MasterFardMuhammad‬, to Whom Praises is due Forever, Is God Almighty.

We are saying that this Man, is the Supreme Being of the heavens and the earth. 

Meaning there is no one more powerful than Him.

He is Possessor of Power over All things. He has power over EVERY atom in the universe. 

There is no one smarter than Him.

We are saying there has never been a man alive that is wiser than Him. 

Master Fard Muhammad. REMEMBER His Name.

This Man, We are saying He is ‪#‎Allah‬. We are saying He is the Mahdi of the ‪#Muslim‬ world. The ‪#‎Messiah‬ of the #Christians‬. 

We are saying if you are a ‪#JehovahsWitness‬‪#‎JW‬, this is your ‪#‎Jehovah‬. WHEN did Jehovahs Witness start? Was it BEFORE Master Fard Muhammad or After?

The Founders of Jehovahs Witnesses MET God(Jehovah), Master Fard Muhammad, and became Witnesses. 

A Man, born of a woman, is God.

Admin ID : [The Raven]
*Dark Wings, Dark Words*

“Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door —
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door —
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.”

The Raven, Edgar Allan Poe

In true raven fashion, my posts will be full of fear and a healthy dose of loathing. I may also make posts about cities like Las Vegas.
There may be some movie/TV show references. 

It is hard now to recreate a sense of the almost complete impossibility of not being a religious believer in seventeenth-century England. But as I enter the Apple Store, systematically laid out with its central entrance door and an attractively illuminated high table at the far end, a parallel comes to mind. Digital technology seems to fill a large part of the mental space we reserve for faith. (Art, which is often put up as a candidate, is the opium only of a minority.) We depend on technology for the smooth running of our daily lives, if not for our salvation. We make obeisance to it, we feel obliged to buy into the whole package, rather than selecting and rejecting individual technologies. There is the familiar choice between minutely differentiated sects (Apple or Microsoft), but all must share the same basic creed. Upgrades are like revisions of dogma in which we have no say, but which we are bound to go along with anyway. To reject the technological is to declare oneself a heretic, a position as inconceivable now as declaring oneself an atheist in the 1600s.

Please always meditate on beautiful Vrndavana!
Bhurijana dasa: Sri Prabhodananada Sarasvati offers us wise words: I offer my respectful obeisances to the wonderful effulgent, transcendental land of Vrndavana, which is splendid with glistening gold, sapphires, rubies, red-coral, lapis lazuli, and candrakanta jewels. I eternally meditate on the land of Vrndavana, which is glorious above everything, an island of sweetness in the shoreless ocean of nectar, wonderful with the bliss of transcendental pastimes, blinded by the nectar of love for Radha-Krsna, its limbs rolling about on the ground in ecstasy, and a wonderful treasure of transcendental beauty and good fortune. Without ever becoming tired, please always meditate on beautiful Vrndavana, which is glorious with numberless charming forests of parijata and other splendid trees, worshipped by demigods full of love for Lord Hari’s lotus feet, plunged into an ocean of the light of millions of moons, and unapproachable even by the host of Upanisads. Brother, are you trapped in the jungle of repeated birth and death? Can you find not even a moment’s relief from the three-fold sufferings? The words of the scriptures don’t tell you how to escape? Simply meditate in your heart on the trees of Vrndavana, which are so dear to Lord Krsna.
Read the entire article here: http://goo.gl/ZmLKN0

Word of the Day 

obeisance   noun1 : a movement of the body made in token of respect or submission : bow 2 : acknowledgment of another’s superiority or importance : homage  Examples: “They took their hats off and made obeisance and many signs, which however, I could not understand any more than I could their spoken language …” — Bram Stoker, Dracula, 1897  “College presidents and school officials frequently…

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The pity-porn narrative that is often employed when talking about intersex issues is a common one. It rehashes details of our lives, in this case MC’s, and waits for the sympathy to flow. It offers little or no questioning of how and why these human rights abuses are permitted to continue. They just *are*. Obeisance to medical authority is evident throughout. A singular lack of anyone intersex speaking for themselves is notable.
on virtue/morality/discipline

mythology does not hold as its greatest hero the merely virtuous man. virtue is but the pedagogical prelude to the culminating insight, which goes beyond all pairs of opposite. virtue quells the self-centered ego and make the transpersonal centeredness possible; but when that has been achieved, what then of the pain or pleasure, vice or virtue, either of our own ego or of any other? through all, the transcendent force is then perceived which lives in all, in all is wonderful, and is worthy, in all, of our profound obeisance

where the moralist would be filled with indignation and the tragic poet with pity and terror, mythology breaks the whole of life into a vast, horrendous Divine Comedy. Its Olympian laugh is not escapist in the least, but hard, with the hardness of life itself-which, we may take it, is the hardness of God, the Creator. Mythology, in this respect, makes the tragic attitude seem somewhat hysterical, and the merely moral judgement shortsighted. yet the hardness is balanced by an assurance that all that we see is but the reflex of a power that endures, untouched by the pain. thus the tales are both pitiless and terrorless-suffused with the joy of transcendent anonymity regarding itself in all of the self-centered, battling egos that are born and die in time. 

i fuckin love Joseph Cambell