The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

To the boy Ellis
02:56 Sep 27 2008
Times Read: 2,278






Elis, when the blackbird calls in the black woods,

This is your decline.

Your lips drink the coolness of the blue rock-spring.



Cease, when your forehead bleeds quietly

Ancient legends

And dark interpretations of the flight of birds.



But with gentle steps you walk into the night,

That hangs full of purple grapes,

And you move the arms more beautifully in the blueness.



A thorn bush tinges,

Where your moon-like eyes are.

O, how long, Elis, have you been dead.



Your body is a hyacinth,

Into which a monk dips his waxy fingers.

Our silence is a black cavern,



From which a soft animal steps at times

And slowly lowers heavy eyelids.

On your temples black dew drips,



The last gold of expired stars.





***



This is my favourite poem by Georg Trakl.

It dates since the age when gods were walking among mortals, and feed both in food and spirit.

A controverse?
22:46 Sep 18 2008
Times Read: 2,289

Some hungarian people say that Countess Bathory was not as guilty as it seems to be.



Here is an interesting controverse about that lady:



http://www.twcenter.net/forums/showthread.php?t=63253



And it seems to be guilty to me.

Ater all there are substances who could delay blood coagulation and other methods(keeping it at a certain temperature).

Also there could be a torture instrument that could be used as a shower to bath the lady that satands underneath.At least that`s how Andei Codrescu suggests that she could use.



To say more about it I should see those Thurzo documents.But they are kept in the Hungarian National Library.Does anybody know where could I find the document on the internet or elsewhere?





What is your opinion about the controverse?

The Devil's Blossoms
02:15 Sep 16 2008
Times Read: 2,307


The Devil's Blossoms



by Hanns Heinz Ewers



translation by Stephen E. Flowers



When the Devil was a woman,

When Lilith wound

Her ebony hair in heavy braids,

And framed

Her pale features all'round

With Botticelli's tangled thoughts,

When she, smiling softly,

Ringed all her slim fingers

In golden bands with brilliant stones,

When she leafed through Villiers

And loved Huysmans,

When she fathomed Maeterlinck's silence

And bathed her Soul

In Gabriel d'Annunzio's colors,

She even laughed-

--

And as she laughed,

The little princess of serpents sprang

Out of her mouth.

Then the most beautiful of she-devils

Sought after the serpent,

She seized the Queen of Serpents

With her ringed fingers,

So that she wound and hissed,

Hissed, hissed

And spit venom.

In a heavy copper vase;

Damp earth,

Black damp earth

She scattered upon it.

Lightly her great hands caressed

This heavy copper vase

All around,

Her pale lips lightly sang

Her ancient curse-

Like a children's rhyme her curses chimed,

Soft and languid

Languid as the kisses,

That the damp earth drank

From her mouth,

But life arose in the vase,

And tempted by her languid kisses,

And tempted by those sweet tones,

From the black earth slowly there crept,

Orchids -

--

When the most beloved

Adorns her pale features before the mirror

All 'round with Botticelli's adders,

There creep sideways from the copper vase,

Orchids-

Devil's blossoms which the ancient earth,

Wed by Lilith's curse

To serpent's venom, has borne to the light

Orchids-

The Devil's blossoms-





***





This is one of my greatest discoveries ever!

A poem about Lilith written by Ewers!







"Hanns Heinz Ewers was born in Dusseldorf in 1871. He gained notoriety at an early age with a volume of satiric poetry and held onto it by forming a controversial itinerant theater company He produced several volumes of short stories and a series of remarkable novels, "The Sorcerer's Apprentice " "Alraune" (filmed in the 1920's) and "Vampire," between 1907 and 1922. He went on to achieve limited prominence as a Nazi, dying in Berlin in 1943."



"Ewers rejected the literary conventions of his day, and is regarded as a minor literary figure in Germany today. His stories and novels are often regarded as works of fantasy, though there is really very little of the supernatural in them. They are more properly horror stories with an emphasis on the extremes of human experience, displaying an unhealthy, but fascinating, interest in pain, madness, and perversity. Ewers never forgot entirely the folk tales at the base of all Germanic fiction, and many of his stories resemble evil fables. The brief example that follows is typical."



-- William Wallace

The Sleeper
01:40 Sep 16 2008
Times Read: 2,309

The Sleeper



(1831)



by Edgar Allan Poe





At midnight, in the month of June,

I stand beneath the mystic moon.

An opiate vapor, dewy, dim,

Exhales from out her golden rim,

And, softly dripping, drop by drop,

Upon the quiet mountain top,

Steals drowsily and musically

Into the universal valley.

The rosemary nods upon the grave;

The lily lolls upon the wave;

Wrapping the fog about its breast,

The ruin molders into rest;

Looking like Lethe, see! the lake

A conscious slumber seems to take,

And would not, for the world, awake.

All Beauty sleeps!- and lo! where lies

Irene, with her Destinies!



O, lady bright! can it be right-

This window open to the night?

The wanton airs, from the tree-top,

Laughingly through the lattice drop-

The bodiless airs, a wizard rout,

Flit through thy chamber in and out,

And wave the curtain canopy

So fitfully- so fearfully-

Above the closed and fringed lid

'Neath which thy slumb'ring soul lies hid,

That, o'er the floor and down the wall,

Like ghosts the shadows rise and fall!

Oh, lady dear, hast thou no fear?

Why and what art thou dreaming here?

Sure thou art come O'er far-off seas,

A wonder to these garden trees!

Strange is thy pallor! strange thy dress,

Strange, above all, thy length of tress,

And this all solemn silentness!



The lady sleeps! Oh, may her sleep,

Which is enduring, so be deep!

Heaven have her in its sacred keep!

This chamber changed for one more holy,

This bed for one more melancholy,

I pray to God that she may lie

For ever with unopened eye,

While the pale sheeted ghosts go by!



My love, she sleeps! Oh, may her sleep

As it is lasting, so be deep!

Soft may the worms about her creep!

Far in the forest, dim and old,

For her may some tall vault unfold-

Some vault that oft has flung its black

And winged panels fluttering back,

Triumphant, o'er the crested palls,

Of her grand family funerals-

Some sepulchre, remote, alone,

Against whose portal she hath thrown,

In childhood, many an idle stone-

Some tomb from out whose sounding door

She ne'er shall force an echo more,

Thrilling to think, poor child of sin!

It was the dead who groaned within.





~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~





"The poem that would become "The Sleeper" went through many revised versions. First, in the 1831 collection Poems of Edgar A. Poe, it appeared with 74 lines as "Irene." It was 60 lines when it was printed in the Philadelphia Saturday Courier on May 22, 1841. Poe considered it one of his best compositions, according to a note he sent to fellow author James Russell Lowell in 1844. Like many of Poe's works, the poem focuses on the death of a beautiful woman, a death which the mourning narrator struggles to deal with while considering the nature of death and life. Some lines seem to echo the poem "Christabel" by Samuel Taylor Coleridge, a poet known to have had a heavy influence on Poe's poetry.



Poe praised "The Sleeper" as a "superior" poem. He wrote to an admirer: "In the higher qualities of poetry, it is better than 'The Raven'—but there is not one man in a million who could be brought to agree with me in this opinion."

Quote
21:44 Sep 14 2008
Times Read: 2,323

"Il y a toujours à perdre pour une femme à faire son amant de son ami, mais il y a beaucoup à gagner à faire son ami de son amant."



Madeleine de Puisieux .

***



"La femme est tout ce que l'homme appelle et tout ce qu'il n'atteint pas."



Simone de Beauvoir



***



“A man can be happy with any woman as long as he does not over cook her”



Oscar Wilde on How To Cook A Human

The Descent of Inanna
20:32 Sep 14 2008
Times Read: 2,326






Inanna was born from the ocean

And rode her foam-hoofed horse to the beach,

Then she watched with a desperate devotion

The world being born at her feet –

While the ground was still starlit and ashen

From its birth in the vast, vacant deep –

And she watched from the star-scattered twilight

The dusky perfection of night



Inanna passed into that twilight –

Became one with the mountainous sky –

And she watched the world grow from the starlight,

And she fed men with dreams as they died,

And she cooled them with silence at midnight,

And she comforted them when they cried,

Then she laid down beside them and loved them

And she taught them to dream once again.



Inanna stepped into the night heat –

Drenched in perfume and robes of starred blue –

To the market that sprawled through the side-streets

In a world that was vital and new,

And she trod the paved earth with her bare feet

In the streets where the desert wind blew

When the night smelt of spices and vervain:

Of incense and orange and rain.



Inanna rose late in the evening –

In her palace the new world had made –

To the sound of fair Ninshubur breathing

Made tired by the heats of the day.

Inanna left her to her dreaming

On the raw purple silk where she lay,

And walked naked through gardens of starbane –

Their petals still wet from the rain.



Inana was languid from bathing

When she stepped back out into the night,

And her fine, damask skin was still steaming

With the water's indelible heat,

And she heard through the lazy winds singing

The sound of her new world's heart beat,

And he saw her through spice and wild jasmine:

Through moonlight and lamplight and steam.



“Inanna,” he said from the water.

“There is something that you need to hear.

I must tell you my sweet, star-clad daughter:

You will pass into shadow and tears –

To the darkness where even gods falter,

To the deadlands which even we fear –

Where the dead stare wide-eyed from the doorways,

Or just crumble to dust where they lay.”



“Your sister is waiting there for you:

The fell queen of the unquiet dead.

And too soon she'll be calling out to you

To pass where the gods fear to tread,

And then you must dress in night sky blue

And place your starred crown on your head,

And then you must pass to the deadlands

And step into the sharp, keening sands.”



Inanna knelt down by the river

And fair Ninshubur came to her side,

But her fine, damask fingers still shivered

And she knew that she'd soon have to die.

Ninshubur painted her scared hands with henna

When she'd taken her mistress inside,

They they held, and they spoke, and they both wept,

Sobbing softly until they both slept.



* * *





The swallows wove over a vagrant sky

Painted pale in tremulous blue,

And Inanna woke slow to the nightjar's cry

In her world that was vital and new,

But Inanna woke slow with a desperate sigh

And she knew it would end far too soon.

She she rose to the underworld's vacant moan,

And she left Ninshuber sleeping alone.



Her shepherd Dumuzi was waiting there –

In her throne room before the vast sea –

And he took her, and held her, and kissed her hair,

Where the grey waves crashed violent and free.

And the great, basalt arches let sunset there

For Inanna and her husband to see,

And the great waves rushed over the silence there

With such awful and violent care.



She knew she must pass into Kur that night

To where her sister slept restless with pain,

She knew she would shrink away from the sight

But she knew that she'd watch all the same,

And she knew she would be returned to the light,

But she was certain she'd not be the same,

So it was with great sadness they kissed goodbye

And she left him and stepped out to die.

Kalmakoff - a forgoten visionary
20:16 Sep 14 2008
Times Read: 2,327










"In 1955, a Russian émigré died alone, unknown and in poverty at the hôpital de Lagny to the north of Paris. After leading a hermit's existence in his small room at the hotel de la Rochefoucault in Paris, this former Russian aristocrat had created a fascinating body of work which, deemed eccentric and worthless, was locked away in storage and forgotten.



Throughout his solitary life, the artist had painted works that reflected his various obsessions with martyrdom, asceticism, decadence, spirituality and sexuality. Executed in a style marked by the Russian art nouveau, his imagery nevertheless transcended this movement, bearing undeniable traces of demented vision, indeed, genius.









Only in 1962 did some of his works come to light when Bertrand Collin du Bocage and Georges Martin du Nord discovered forty canvases in the Marché aux Puces, a large flea market to the north of Paris. All the works in this unusual collection were signed with a stylized 'K' monogram.



The Hungarian merchant who sold the lot to them included with it a poster of an exhibition held in Galerie Le Roy, Brussels, in 1924. Here, for the first time, the full name of the mysterious 'K' was revealed - Nicolas Kalmakoff."

The Watchers
02:42 Sep 07 2008
Times Read: 2,341

Nephilim

The Grigori or Watchers are a group of fallen angels who mated with mortal women, giving rise to a race of giants known as the Nephilim. The Grigori, also known as "Watchers", appear in the books of Enoch and Jubilees.



The Grigori numbered a total of 200 but only their leaders are named in the Book of Enoch



According to some Jewish folklore, the Grigori or Watchers are a superior order of angels whose proper place is either second or fifth heaven. They are often described as looking like human beings, but much larger. They are said to never sleep and are supposedly forever silent. While there are good and bad Watchers, most stories revolve around the evil ones that fell from grace when they took "the daughters of man" as their own.

Ialdabaoth II
02:41 Sep 07 2008
Times Read: 2,342


Yaldabaoth







“Yaldabaoth” literally means “Child, come here” in a Semitic language. For example, the Hebrew word for “young girl” is “yalda,” and for “come” is “bo.” Thus, most probably “yaldabaoth” is a declension of “young girl” and “come,” together meaning “young girl, come hither” (the language’s identification as Hebrew itself is doubtful).



Gnostic myth recounts that Sophia (Greek, literally meaning “wisdom”), the Demiurge’s mother and a partial aspect of the divine Pleroma or “Fullness,” desired to create something apart from the divine totality, and without the receipt of divine assent. In this abortive act of separate creation, she gave birth to the monstrous Demiurge and, being ashamed of her deed, she wrapped him in a cloud and created a throne for him within it. The Demiurge, isolated, did not behold his mother, nor anyone else, and thus concluded that only he himself existed, being ignorant of the superior levels of reality that were his birth-place.



The Gnostic myths describing these events are full of intricate nuances portraying the declination of aspects of the divine into human form; this process occurs through the agency of the Demiurge who, having stolen a portion of power from his mother, sets about a work of creation in unconscious imitation of the superior Pleromatic realm. Thus Sophia’s power becomes enclosed within the material forms of humanity, themselves entrapped within the material universe: the goal of Gnostic movements was typically the awakening of this spark, which permitted a return by the subject to the superior, non-material realities which were its primal source. (See Sethian Gnosticism.)



Under the name of Nebro, Yaldabaoth is called an angel in the apocryphal Gospel of Judas. He is first mentioned in “The Cosmos, Chaos, and the Underworld” as one of the twelve angels to come “into being [to] rule over chaos and the [underworld].” He comes from heaven, his “face flashed with fire and whose appearance was defiled with blood.” Nebro’s name means rebel. Nebro creates six angels in addition to the angel Saklas to be his assistants. These six in turn create another twelve angels “with each one receiving a portion in the heavens.”

Basilisk
02:29 Sep 07 2008
Times Read: 2,343








The word basil comes from the Greek (basileus), meaning "king", as it is believed to have grown above the spot where St. Constantine and Helen discovered the Holy Cross. The Oxford English Dictionary quotes speculations that basil may have been used in "some royal unguent, bath, or medicine". Basil is still considered the "king of herbs" by many cookery authors. An alternative etymology has "basil" coming from the Latin word basilicus, meaning dragon and being the root for basilisk, but this likely was a linguistic reworking of the word as brought from Greece.



Basil | Basilisk | Basel



In European bestiaries and legends, a basilisk (from the Greek basiliskos, a little king, in Latin Regulus) is a legendary reptile reputed to be king of serpents and said to have the power of causing death by a single glance. According to the Naturalis Historia of Pliny the Elder, the basilisk is a small snake that is so venomous that it leaves a wide trail of deadly venom in its wake, and its gaze is likewise lethal.



Basilisk is also the name of a genus of small lizards, (family Corytophanidae). The Green Basilisk, also called plumed basilisk, is a lizard that can run across the surface of water.

Ialdabaoth
02:10 Sep 07 2008
Times Read: 2,345


Lilith: Spiritual - Theosophy Dictionary on Ialdabaoth









"Ialdabaoth (Gnostic) (from Shem ilda + baoth)







Child from the egg (of Chaos); the spirit of matter, the chief of the lower 'elohim and father of the six dark stellar spirits or terrestrial angels, and thus one of the lower group of the Qabbalistic Sephiroth, the shadow or reflection on the lower four cosmic planes of the arupa or formless higher Sephirothic range. These emanations from the stellar spirits become darker and more material as they recede in descent from their sources, and are thus properly represented as the seven planetary (and global) genii or rectors.







Ialdabaoth's mother, Sophia Achamoth (wisdom of the lower four of the cosmic planes) is the daughter or manifested reflection of the Heavenly Sophia -- divine wisdom, or the mahat-side of akasa. Therefore Ialdabaoth is equivalent to the Nazarene Demiourgos of the Codex Nazaraeus, which makes him identical with the Hebrew Jehovah, the creator of the physical earth and the material side of the rector of the planet Saturn. He is also identical with Tsebaoth-Adamas, "the Pthahil of the Codex Nazaraeus, the Demiurge of the Valentinian system, the Proarchose of the Barbelitae, the Great Archon of Basilides and the Elohim of Justinus, etc. Ialdabaoth (the Child of Chaos) was . . . the Chief of the Creative Forces and the representative of one of the classes of Pitris" (BCW 13:43n). In the Ophite scheme he is the first of the superior septenate.







As a creative spirit, Ialdabaoth generates six sons (the lower terrestrial angels or stellar spirits) without assistance of any female, and when these sons strive with him he creates Ophiomorphos, the serpent-shaped spirit of all that is basest in matter. When Ialdabaoth proclaims that he is Father and God, and that none is above him, Sophia tells him that the first and second Anthropos (heavenly man) are above him. So Ialdabaoth's sons create a man, Adam, to whom Ialdabaoth gives the breath of life, emptying himself of creative power. Having rebelled against his mother, his production is mindless and has to be endowed with mind by Sophia Achamoth -- a reference to the descent of the manasaputras. The man, thus informed, aspires away from his producer, who thereupon becomes his adversary, produces the three lower kingdoms of beings, and imprisons man in a house of clay (flesh). Ialdabaoth also makes Eve (Lilith) to deprive the man of his light powers. Sophia sends the serpent or intelligence to make Adam and Eve transgress the commands of Ialdabaoth, who casts them from Paradise into the world along with the serpent. Sophia deprives Adam and Eve of their light power, but eventually restores this power so that they awoke mentally. Here there is much the same confusion that surrounds the various meanings of Satan and the serpent.







Ialdabaoth, who is lion-headed or in the form of a lion, represents the kama principle, the false light that draws the soul into matter and struggles against its rise again to spirit. Some Gnostics held that Sophia sent Christos to help humankind when Ialdabaoth and his forces were shutting out the divine light, and Ialdabaoth, "discovering that Christos was bringing to an end his kingdom of Matter, stirred up the Jews, his own people, against Him, and Jesus was put to death" (BCW 14:161)."

How fame changed me LOL
19:26 Sep 06 2008
Times Read: 2,347

polls polls polls ;))
00:28 Sep 06 2008
Times Read: 2,350

What mythical creature are you?

Unicorn You are faithful to the end. Usually appreciating a solitary life with a mysterious aire about you. You are strong and keep your feelings to yourself. You also have a great love of nature. Truely, a loving soul.

How do you compare? Take this test! | Tests from Testriffic

LEVIathan and URiel
00:20 Sep 02 2008
Times Read: 2,362

Spades, yeah!
00:13 Sep 02 2008
Times Read: 2,363

Irma Vep
00:47 Sep 01 2008
Times Read: 1,423






I saw this french movie listed here, on VR, on the Vampire Database.



I was curious because it was a french movie with an oriental girl and I saw it tonight.

Irma Vep

Made by Assayas

1996





It has the virtues of the good french Cinema!

They even talk far less then usual.



It surprised me the way that things are percieved differently by any character.It is a very complex movie. The society presented very realistic in the movie(our reality?), seems very opened, but, in fact, during the movie the way we percieve the things changes and a parralel reality is present there: the feelings... the "action" movie becomes art because and it takes the characteristic of a good theatre play: every word hides a different feeling from the word itself.Inside the being, the emotions are boiling and sometimes not even the words can cover it.

And not even the mask/face of the man/actor.



The movie speaks a lot about Art and it`s main problems on this modern era when the american concept of "success" seems to take over and replace any other value.



It helped me understand myself and how important is to work with people that understand your personal feelings and art.





And even if nothing happenes really, (there is no "action" there) it lifts a lot of feelings and questions.



The acting is extraordinary good and the endseems bizarre but it`s absolutely increddible!



It`s a "must see" movie!

Even if the vampire theme is not present there....



or is it?