#mangled mythology

[marx-of-tzara]

J. Rolfe Leach

‘Leda and the decoy: a chance encounter’ (2019)

On paper. 9x8in.

[olbigjim]

In My Defense, the Box Was Suspicious

            Mangled Mythology First of all, it wasn’t a box. I realize That’s not the heart of the matter, but when history has spent several thousand years blamin’ you for all human misery, you get to be persnickety about details. It was a jar. A great big sealed jar, heavy as judgment and ugly as a tax collector’s hat. But “Pandora’s jar” don’t sing, so poets changed it to a box and then…

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[olbigjim]

I Was Having a Bad Hair Day, and History Overreacted

            Mangled Mythology Before we get started, I’d like to say one thing on behalf of snakes: they are better company than most heroes. A snake will hiss at you honest. A hero will smile, ask for directions, and then try to remove your head in the name of destiny. I’ve been called a monster, a horror, a cursed woman, a cautionary tale, and once, by a poet with more confidence than…

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[olbigjim]

“I Specifically Mentioned the Sun”

            Mangled Mythology I’ve been blamed for a lot of things in my life, and some of them were even legitimate. I built the labyrinth. I admit that. I am not proud of it, though I will say the workmanship was exceptional. A man may regret a structure without denyin’ the corners were true. I’ve also been accused of arrogance, schemin’, excessive cleverness, poor workplace boundaries, and,…

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[olbigjim]

I Didn’t Build the Maze

            Mangled Mythology Let me start off by sayin’ I didn’t ask for the labyrinth. That fact gets lost in the retellin’, mostly because poets enjoy architecture more than fairness. They talk about twisting halls, dark passages, stone corridors, dead ends, echoes, and the terrible beast waitin’ at the center. They make it sound like I drew up the plans myself, sharpened a pencil, and said,…

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[crouchingtiger28]

Above and Below

Everyone knows about the Belows. Once a city exists for long enough, when human lives wear grooves into the natural flow of the world’s magic, a Below forms Underneath the city.  

Humans leave grooves in the flow of magic, but in between the grooves magic pools and stagnates. The Cities Below are the real-world representations of the stagnation. Every man-eater or dark creature you can dream of was first born in a City Below. Werewolves under Greece, Vampires under England, even more obscure creatures like the Wendigos in Canada and the Chupacabras in Puerto Rico. There are Cities Below, with their monsters and shadows and darkness, and the Cities Above filled with humans and only the darkness and evil humans can create. Casters come and Seal off the Belows. People move on with their days. Such is life.

Some may forget, though, that where there is darkness, there is light. The Below is dark and evil, but the human cities are not paragons of virtue. Humans are unpredictable and unnatural, their souls woven with threads destiny that make them immune to fate yet subject to luck. The cities are not the Above, no matter what you have heard. The Above is an entirely different matter.  

Humans leave grooves in the flow of magic, but where magic was displaced, it swirls and thrums against itself. The Cities Above are the real-world representations of the ripples. We leave our birthplaces sparingly, not driven by bloodlust or rage as the denizens of the Below, and we hide ourselves to the best of our abilities should we venture into the human’s world, but we are here, waiting. Three-headed hounds to guide lost souls to the afterlife, silver mares with pearlescent horns that heal whatever they touch, sleek finned serpents protecting swimmers from the darker residents of their lakes, and red-crested cobalt avians that told the death of whoever would inquire. The casters have no reason to Seal us off, and few have ever even realized our existence. Until now.

We are the Above of Nagatori, Kunan, and we are trapped. The Will o’ the Whisps cannot guide lost travelers, or the Yanluo lost souls. Nagatori Below has been released, and none of ours is free to walk the mortal streets to assist in the defense against the darkness.

Unless we are freed, the humans will die. They will die by the hundreds of thousands, and there is not one of us that can assist them. If the humans die, the Below will remain. It has happened before, when Quetzalcoatl fell, and it will happen again. The beings that the Jade Force has worked to eliminate are rising once more and will not be stopped by human warriors. There are no more casters in the city. Time is running out.