I was too lazy to make a Halloween playlist this year so here's this instead.
Plus links to the last three years of creepy tunes:
2013
2014
2015
And a bonus track:
And a Linda Belcher, just because:
It's officially Halloween.
I'm allowed to post this.
...
Look at his little ghost toes!
Sgraffito 566
Something very Dante's Inferno about this.
Specifically the City of Dis*.
...
Why did i stop researching The Inferno?
Oh yes, seasoned laziness.
* apologies for the wikipedia link but the info's actually not half bad and the degree of detail pertaining to the specifics of The Inferno on the internet is bafflingly frugal.
Okay, so, seeing as i've already accidentally spoiled the only living person (Scott, i'm so sorry) who didn't know for sure who was murdered in the opener of season 7 of The Walking Dead (bravo me, stellar work), i'm just gonna leave this link here:
Proceed at your own peril.
Toby Harvard
1:46
and
2:52
'How lovely it is not to go. To suddenly take ill.
Not seriously ill, just a little under the weather.
To feel slightly peaked, indisposed. Plagued by
a vague ache, or a slight inexplicable chill.
Perhaps such pleasures are denied
to those who never feel obliged. If there are such.
How pleasant to convey your regrets. To feel sincerely
sorry, but secretly pleased to send them on their way
without you. To entrust your good wishes to others.
To spare the equivocal its inevitable rise.
How nice not to hope that something will happen,
but to lie on the couch with a book, hoping that
nothing will. To hear the wood creak and to think.
It is lovely to stay without wanting to leave.
How delicious not to care how you look,
clean and uncombed in the sheets. To sip
brisk mineral water, to take small bites
off crisp Saltines. To leave some on the plate.
To fear no repercussions. Nor dodge
the unkind person you bug.
Even the caretaker has gone to the party.
If you want something you will have to
get it yourself. The blue of the room seduces.
The cars of the occupied sound the wet road.
You indulge in a moment of sadness, make
a frown at the notion you won't be missed.
This is what it is. You have opted to be
forgotten so that your thoughts might live.'
Dividend of the Social Opt Out
'Like fishermen at dusk, the soldiers returned
from war with stories slumped over their shoulders;
their fingers firm at the knot, the netting, thick
and tangled with the names of the dead.
None could explain how the flood of life all around
them escaped like water from between cupped hands,
how the bodies of men they loved began to crust
the earth like salt, how destruction danced slapdash
and unashamed everywhere, and still they survived.
When I came home from college proud, my educated
mouth agape, a tackle box of words, slick and glossy
and I saw the names of my friends, the young men
I fought with, learned to drink with, and left behind
Lil’ Rocc, Pumpkin, Ulysses, Junebug, Aghoster
names spray-painted throughout our neighborhood
in memoriam, I couldn’t understand how a god
could make one life possible and strip the world
clean of so many, or how, like high-watermarks
the dead remind the living of the coming of storms.'
Names We Sing in Sleep & Anger
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