Book of Wine & Seizures.Tribulation of Tarvatillion the Slayer.Ch1.Enormity of the Terror He Dispenseth

The Journal of Provincial Thought

jptArchive Iss 15

luminance

Pigasus Iss 15 c2007 W Schafer-WineSeizuresCh1

from private reserve

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Chapftre

1. Enormity of the Terror He Dispenseth .................................pp. 1-2

2. Hozo ...................................................................................pp. 2-5

3. Vilifaxien of Shum, & a Solemn Slayscene Investigature...pp. 5-8

4. Pitting of Elites: The Requizit Glamour of Supremacy.........pp. 8-11

5. Commencements of Apocolypse.........................................pp. 12-14

6. Wanton Excess & the Spectacol of a Slayer Affrighted......pp. 15-17

7. Power by Acquisitien.........................................................pp. 18-19

8. Reversiens..............................................................................p. 20

Indectic ................................................................................pp. 21-22

Ch.1

The Tribulation of Tarvatilion the Slayer

1.
Enormity of the Terror He Dispenseth

arvatillion, it were said, hath more daring than the early worm, more gall hath he than the Taxmonsters of Grudenza and Gar. He danceth across the asserted spearspoints

of the wild poker peopels. He sleepeth (when that he sleepf atall any more) with the screaming gutvipers. He hath trickt an dragon into marriage [mah-dee-ahzh], and the marrying [thә mah-dә-yeh] hath worn her thin unto death. Her scales lie curld & brittle on the earth aroundabout the bed, and amongst them Tarvatillion mawing at the tremboling gods who hold to the firmament—he begging for war, that the mad peace of battle may unto his feverd mind. For this were Tarvatillion The Slayer, whose reputasien alone fetcheth in urgent docoments of surrender from such many unknown empires beyond the regular world as to whelm perpetual the conquestiary registrars in the Office of Surrendry. And in answer unto those insistent surrenderers, Tarvatillion offereth no promises, but only sendeth some depictitures of slaying.

Poker peoples (wilde): those alarmspringing persuasions of tribal peopel who
            poke with spears and make wilderness living the family fiascum that it
            be. Only Tarvatillion surviveth an attack by the poker peoples; yea, he is
            so importent.

Screaming gutvipers: the most heinous serpents there be left in the earth. Say.
            They were casted down from outen heav’n some eternities ere went out
            that old rascol Saitin, for they shew their slithre in the face of the
            Grandeose. But Tarvatillion hath gone down to hell and gat some for his
            cave.

For he hath a great vigor, this Tarvatillion. To espy him in his stride is to gain that he may slay whomsoever he wish, and who be there to stay him? Every other manspawn of the land creepeth feeble about, and alway feel half ill, and hath fragmentary thinking & crude motien & hairfailure & toothdrop—all attributendo, mayhap, unto deleterious metal spirits in the pottery. But Tarvatillion, he loometh unstymied every day, impervious to metallospiritualities; and manifold is his signifiganse.

Alway he findeth mercy in his heart. But, he leaveth it there, and findeth none in his pounding fistes nor in his stompfing feet, where the slaying is done. He slayeth whom he will, slaying them when he will, slaying them in the fashion he will, slaying them all on ready pretex as good as any law. The will of man is law, saith he; And I am more that man than any. And I declare that the Goode law is a Slaying lawe. And, I declare also a certain joie de coeur.

Thou saist, So! Whom then hath this Tarvatilliane actsually been seen to slay, that suche muche accolade himwards flow? Well, and sure, no perfectity of accounting is there that layeth out this actuel slaying or that, no certifide log-o’-deed to lodge upon the retina, no see-eye alley episode of grunts & shoves & dying gaspfs, or publick dusting out on the boulla vaarde. But zound! as bards do trill, if e’er hath a man enjoyd his slaying ways—and who in the world hath not?—then surely this Tarvatillien were Enjoyer Ultrafax, wastelayer indeed, hardback slayer’s slayer, slaying slayers. These are slaying times; and the vitalidy of Tarvatillion vaulteth him to the fore of a slaying world. The flowure of accoladae were but natchrol. Battle were scarce necess’ry when that Tarvatilliun steppeth forth with his swelling nostrils and terribol infexius smile. Yet surely hath he slain; just surely. With Tarvatillion, ’twere all abouts the slay.

Nowhere to go

Gone back

topsides

See about Ch. 2

jptArchive Issue 15