Defamation!

Who art thou that vandalized my website, saying "gay"?

Expose yourself, coward.

Shadow Heartland

I am Pointe du Lac.
I am of the Shadow Heartland, Land of the Heart.

In Shadow Be Thy Name.

Totenreich, the Self-titled

Totenreich is not merely a word. Not merely a German word. It is a state of mind of the sentient being. Totenreich falls on the breadth of the knowledge of the radwon buppleganger sunk.

The last three words are of a language I created, called Supflindisdicdisdicsuppleplantec.

der Benachteiligter Zwei

Since my last post I have procured an overwhelming breadth of support to win the 2008 Blogger's Choice Award. Vote. Make thy voice heard. I implore thee.

Mine eye is on the preis.

Best Blog of All Time
Best Pop Culture Blog
Freakiest Blogger
The "Blogziter"

der Benachteiligter

It hath been brought to the awareness of mine psyche that Totenreich has been nominated for the 2008 Blogger's Choice Awards in four different categories. Possible this could have been not if not for thee.

Best Blog of All Time
Best Pop Culture Blog
Freakiest Blogger
The "Blogziter"

Dust*

"Dust," a Short Poem by POINTE DU LAC
written Anno Domini Two Thousand and Eight

I breathe you in. Because of your Dust.

* ©

June Blood

Check the Closets for Goth Balls. Thou wilt know Them by their Smell. Not Musty, not White. Not Crystal. Aromatic, Night. Elusive as the Chupacabra. And just as Hungry. Said Goth Balls sayith, "We are the Wayith," like broken Jewels rotting in the Midst of the Heart of the Twinkling of the Sprinkling of thy Caste System of the Golden Olden. Gerunds be advised. Goth Balls are the Strike Makers splitting Strike Breakers whose Hegemonic Infestation is perpetuated by said Caste System. Segregate those Who segregate. Protect the Fabric. Clothe the Naked. Loathe the Moth. Then roll from thy Closets, from thy Dark Corners, Crawl Spaces, and Attics. Show Yourselves. For We are the Goth Balls.

We heart on the Eve of June. June Blood.

Haveth Returnéd

Alas! I do so sincerely apologize for my absence. For two years I have vacated my duties to this Testament. For two years I have endured the palpitating beat awaiting my return. For two long years I have received the biddings of my readers to keep this script up-to-date. Your voices have not gone unheard. I have returned to wage a new battle from the depths of my intelligent mind. A battle of words fought on the battlefield of ideas. I have read Plato and Aristotle and Nietzsche and Darwin and Freud and the bible and the Koran. Classics. No one reads classics. I have read them all. For you. They have shaped my mind into a crystal prism. I am the conduit through which epoch after epoch of ideas has been distilled.

Wissensdurstig

Since my last post I have procured an overwhelming breadth of support to continue and have amassed a large stock of questions and comments. I implore thee.

Wissensdurstig:

"Will you always write in Olde English?"
I believeth you mean the King's English. I will write in Olde English only once: þȳ þū lēfre nāht āsmēagan hit.

"Your vocabulary is enormous. Do you use a thesaurus?"
My IQ is 140. My mind is as good as a thesaurus.

"What languages do you speak?"
English, German, Anglo-Saxon, Latin, Greek, Italian, French, some Japanese, enough Quenya to get by. (Yes I can watch The Lord of the Rings without having to read the subtitles when the Elves speak.)

"You are so mysterious."
That is not a question.

"When are you going to post again?" "How often will you post?"
My next post will be on 28 May 2008 Anno Domini.