Archive for December, 2008

31
Dec
08

Ghost Island Images/Text Project

This image comes up when you search for Ghost Island:

Ghost Island Fowl

Ghost Island University Press will release a short book of texts related to this image if such texts are provided to the Official Committee on Ghost Island Texts. The OCGIT can be contacted through the comments section on this post or through unique posts by contributors on this website.

Sample Text: “Madonna and Child”
Sample Text: “Oh How I Loved You Inside and Out. Now look at you, now look at the power of my love. Now who is to blame, me or the songs of Bobby Darin? Look at your bones, mother, look how nice they lay themselves out. You’ve never been more radiant.”

Best of luck if you believe in that sort of thing.

31
Dec
08

Transcript of Events on Ghost Island

We Don’t Kill Cats

“I don’t kill cats because they are related to tigers and I know that if you are reincarnated as a smaller creature in the habitat of a tiger, he will smell it on your skin that you are a killer of cats and he will not only eat you but will torture you and eat you one limb at a time. Then the tiger will drink the blood from your limbs by lapping with his tongue while you die and are not able to move more than by squirming. The tongue of a tiger is rough and will abrade the open sockets of your dying body.”

“I don’t kill cats because I do not like killing and I like cats.”

I stare at them both and hold the body of the cat by the dead skin of its neck.

“I didn’t kill him. He died in my hands.”

The cat’s blood is running down my arm, but really I am a good person.

31
Dec
08

whitemaned seahorses, champing, brightwindbridled

i, Stephen Dead A. Lass, did, alas, die, in dallas,

divining sand, on the northern rim, saw

the Antigonal Cranes

“whose love dances last for hours . . . talk to one another; spread their wings and walk around each other . . . jump up with their feet, like wild dancers . . . when one dies–the Indians say–the other lets himself die, too.  It’s a discontinuity of life, maybe due to a kind of symbiotic relationship between two beings who help one another.”

&  terrified, saw the hermaphrodite orchid invert its lips, infolding, like Aphrodite, with golden devouring buds.  It was

“one of the most beautiful love stories I know . . . about the orchid and the bee, the huge wasp of New Guinea.  The orchid smells like female genitalia (of the wasp).  So the male goes straight at it and makes love to the plant.  He rubs his stinger against it.  Afterwards, the female smells his odor and comes and rubs herself in it, in her turn.  That’s how she is impregnated, through the plant.  Strange . . . Why doesn’t this couple ever meet, except through the plant? What physiological, biological laws of the world of smells and feelings give rise to this trio?”

–Frederic Rossif, Director/Naturalist

16
Dec
08

Explanation (courtesy of A Traveler’s Guide To Ghost Island)

Ghost Island is almost a magazine. It was formed by the accumulation of hardened lava from the eruptions of an oceanic volcano. It is a place where several contributors will post essays, links, and news updates. There is no definite rule for the kind of content posted, but certain themes will naturally emerge. The flora and fauna on Ghost Island have evolved in almost perfect isolation and so often are unrecognizable. There are too many superstitions to begin to explain it all now, but you should always walk with caution by the northern rim of the Island.

Ghost Island contributors often maintain their own blogs and will often cross-post general interest pieces on both this site and the home blog. The idea of Ghost Island is to create a space to act as a kind of clearinghouse or portal for the writings and thoughts of a small group of loosely connected individuals. Ghost Island was named for the mist that forms in shapes of dead popes, mitre and all.

Ghost Island may become the home of all kinds of ghosts, spectres, monsters, and spirits. It may also publish very strange things that will hide in the various caves and crevasses that abound on this little piece of volcanic rock. There are snakes here and colorful birds. Ghost Island may cross dimensions from the virtual to the physical. Ghost Island may start designing clothes. The point is, this is a wild and heavily forrested place and the weather is hard to predict.




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