i. The Hare and Billet Ghost - a woman in Victorian dress with a bonnet and no face supposedly haunts the bit right outside the pub on Blackheath, just standing there, looking like she's waiting for a bus. She was supposed to run away with her lover, but hung herself from the elm trees near the pond after realising she'd been jilted. Two of my friends claim to have seen her last November while out jogging, without knowing of her existence. They Googled her and found out the last reported sighting was also in November back in the 70s.
ii. The site in Blackheath Village where my old building now stands used to be a school, until the early 20th Century. One of the men suspected of being Jack The Ripper taught there.
iii. The Bottomless Pond - up further on the Heath towards Greenwich Park. A horse and carriage fell in there, supposedly, also during the 19th century, and were never seen again. Unless they were swept into an underground river, I think this is a rubbish muth.
iv. Spring Heeled Jack!
― Matt DC (Matt DC), Monday, 5 September 2005 08:07 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― renegade bus (Jody Beth Rosen), Monday, 5 September 2005 08:10 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
a haunted carriage has apparently been spotted on the railway bridge just down the road
the school library is supposed to be haunted by an old dead teacher who was killed in a fire.
hangmans corner, supposedly haunted by the ruthless villains who met their maker here.
― Ste (Fuzzy), Monday, 5 September 2005 08:20 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
I shall add some later, when I'm done running the vicious and horrible weekly reports.
― Luminiferous Aether (kate), Monday, 5 September 2005 08:41 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
In 1943 four boys came across a skull in a tree in Hagley Woods near Wolverhampton. The police were called and discovered the skull was part of an almost complete skeleton, with the rotting remains of flesh, clothing and crepe soled shoes. A hand, severed from the body, was found burried nearby.
Despite building up a picture of the victim and her clothing no one was able to identify her. Later that year graffiti began tp appear all around the west midlands reading "Who put Bella in the Wych Elm?" The graffiti still appears today.
There are loads of theories, the most popular being that Bella was either a German spy or a witch.
My grandmother used to tell me this story, with the grisly addition that perhaps Bella's severed hand was responsible for the messages. I had many sleepless nights over that one.
― Anna (Anna), Monday, 5 September 2005 08:46 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
There is information in this in the resource room in Sutton House and sveral articles in the Hackney Gazette from a few years back.
― Mikey G (Mikey G), Monday, 5 September 2005 09:00 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― Paul Kelly (kelly), Monday, 5 September 2005 09:45 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
I remember one night my friends older brother told us the story of how "Puck" used to get beaten with a stick and became very resentful about this, and as he was reaching the crescendo of whatever rubbish story he'd made up, he whacked my friend John several times with a stick, and John then ran home in terror.
It's seriously scary up there though! Another time we were wandering around the grounds and became caught up in some kind of police operation or something, there were loads of police cars and guys with torches and we got chased out, I presume they weren't fighting the activities of bored 12 year old kids.
Some more Malahide Castle stuff below.
"Many castles throughout Europe all have one thing in common - a resident ghost. Malahide Castle which is the oldest in habited castle in Ireland has not one ghost to frighten its guests but FIVE.
The first ghost is that of Sir Walter Hussey, who on his wedding day was killed in battle during the 15th century by a spear wound to the side of his body.
Sir Walter can bee seen wandering and groaning throughout the castle pointing at the deadly wound. It is believed that he haunts the castle venting his resentment towards his young bride, who upon his death married his rival.
Lady Maud Plunkett who had been married three times is the second ghost to haunt Malahide Castle. Her last marriage was to a Lord Chief Justice. By this stage of her life she had become a notorious virago, and she can bee seen chasing her husband through the corridors of the Castle.
The Chief Justice himself is the third of our ghosts to haunt Malahide Castle. He who simply appears to provide his spouse with an opportunity of taking a little exercise. I will leave what type of exercise to your imagination….
Our fourth ghost and probably the most interesting is that of Miles Corbett. During Cromwell’s reign, the castle and property were handed to Miles. During his occupation of the castle, Miles committed many atrocities but the worst was the desecration of the chapel of the old abbey near the castle.
For his crimes he was hanged, drawn and quartered and when his ghost first appears it seems to be a perfectly whole soldier in armor. But! If you are brave enough to be still around when you meet him you will find that he falls into four pieces before your very eyes.
The fifth and final ghost is that of a 16th century court jester called “Puck”. Puck had the misfortune of falling in love with a relation of Lady Elenora Fitzgerald, who under orders from Henry VIII was being detained at the castle due to her rebellious nature.
Poor Puck was found close to the castle during a snowy December night and for his troubles was stabbed through the heart. With his dying breath he swore and oath that he would haunt the castle until a reigning lord chose a bride from the common people. Pucks latest reported sighting was in 1976 when the castles contents were sold off in May of that year.
His dwarf like specter can be seen in many photographs taken at the castle but the most vivid is on were his wrinkled old face is seen peering out of the ivy on the wlass of malahide castle."
They used to call Maud Plunkett "The White Lady", apparently she screams at very high pitched decibel levels.
― Ronan (Ronan), Monday, 5 September 2005 10:00 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
My street )Rotherwood Street, Richmond, Melbourne) was the scene of many bloody streetfights during the gangwars between the Fitzroy and Richmond Pushes. Squizzy Taylor, notorious mobster and jockey was a regular visitor.
― Mike Stuchbery (Mike Stuchbery), Monday, 5 September 2005 10:04 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
1.About half a mile out of the village a humpback bridge over a little stream, called White Lady's Bridge, and the story goes that it is haunted by the ghost of a lady who was in a horse and carriage, driving home from a ball in the 17/18 century, but the weather had been bad and she had crashed into the stream and been killed, and now she can be seen on the bridge on misty nights, haunting and stuff. It is a fairly creepy place to be at night, and I've always run rather than walked over the bridge, like a gurl.
2. There is a secret tunnel from during the Civil War that goes from the church to one of the nearby cottages. Actually not really a myth, sorry.
3. There is a mystery big cat roaming Otmoor and the surrounding area.
5. The petrol dump is actually a front for covert military operations.
Not really myths, but anyway:
1. Old, but unused razor blades have appeared in the flat, on the floor, twice, with not really any explanation as to where they came from.
2. A small tub of eyeshadow moved from a closed cupboard to the other side of my bathroom, when no one was around.
― Raston Warrior Robot (alix), Monday, 5 September 2005 10:21 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
he was a hero, and also once actually knocked on my door to borrow a vacuum cleaner! i was starstruck.
― ken c (ken c), Monday, 5 September 2005 10:23 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― Andrew Farrell (afarrell), Monday, 5 September 2005 10:27 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
This is entirely separate from the brothel in my old building.
― Matt DC (Matt DC), Monday, 5 September 2005 10:29 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― Matt DC (Matt DC), Monday, 5 September 2005 10:31 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― Raston Warrior Robot (alix), Monday, 5 September 2005 10:33 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― Markelby (Mark C), Monday, 5 September 2005 10:38 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
Legend has it that the highwayman Dick Turpin was born in the Spaniards Inn on 21 September 1705. This may or may not be true, but what is known is that his father was a landlord of the Spaniards Inn during the 18th Century. The upstairs room at the pub is named The Turpin Bar in his honor and is believed to be the site of his childhood bedroom. Turpin is said to have used the Spaniards Inn as a hideout from which to plan and execute his many highway robberies; the victims of which are said to roam the surrounding heath.
On dark evenings, the upstairs room has been known to turn unnaturally cold as a figure, believed to be that of Turpin, drifts through the walls. In the downstairs bar, the spectral hand of 'Black Dick', a moneylender who was run down by a coach and horses on the road outside, has been known to tug at drinkers' sleeves. Outside the Spaniards Inn, there is a horse that haunts the car park and a female ghost in an ethereal white dress that stalks the garden. It's no wonder the Spaniards Inn is notorious for being one of the spookiest pubs in London.
The garden also has a literary history: Dickens chose the Spaniards beer garden as the setting for Mrs Bardell's arrest in The Pickwick Papers, and Keats allegedly wrote his Ode to a Nightingale here. On Saturdays the pub offers a special paella menu and should the English summer turn the heath a little muddy, dog walkers will be grateful for the ‘Doggy Wash’ where they can wash their muddy pets.
― beanz (beanz), Monday, 5 September 2005 10:38 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
Anyway! There was a legend at our high school about the "Witches' Grave" up in the Helderbergs. Rumour was that there had been a witches' coven back in the 18th Century - and all the witches were burried in this spooky old graveyard way up in the hills. That part of the country, despite being very rural, is dotted with dozens of old graveyards, often just family plots, now miles away from any modern houses or villages. The Witches' Grave was very difficult to find - up a long and winding dirt road. If it was wet, the high iron oxide content in the soil would stain the mud red, so that it would look like your car was covered in blood.
Anyway, supposedly there were a gang of Seniors a couple of years older than us (of course) who had gone and spent the night getting stoned at the Witches' Grave - they retired to an abandonned house nearby, where one of them proceeded to become posessed and COMPLETELY FLIP OUT AND BURN THE HOUSE TO THE GROUND, WITH ALL HIS FRIENDS IN IT!!!
We did eventually find the graveyard - it was very old and quite overgrown, lending it an especially spooky air. There were a whole bunch of graves together, with one segregated off at a slight distance, with ironwork all around it. It had the poem "remember youth as you pass by, as you are now, so once was I; As I am now, soon you will be, so prepare to die and follow me" (or something like that.)
Anyway, pretty spellbinding stuff for a gang of 16 year old goffs. ;-)
― Luminiferous Aether (kate), Monday, 5 September 2005 10:42 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― Pete W (peterw), Monday, 5 September 2005 10:44 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
Blackheath also has loads of fantastic stories about the CAVES!!! Apparently they investigated them, and found the remains of wild Georgian to Victorian orgies in there, chandeliers soaked with opium rags and all that...
And then the roads all around start subsiding and swallowing double decker busses! So the council started pumping in concrete to try and stop the damage, but it took a million gallons of concrete (according to Joe) and still it kept pumping...
― Luminiferous Aether (kate), Monday, 5 September 2005 10:50 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
The biggest myth about Blackheath is that the heath itself sits on top of a giant plague pit. Mark S still claims this to be true but HE IS WRONG.
― Matt DC (Matt DC), Monday, 5 September 2005 10:52 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― Matt DC (Matt DC), Monday, 5 September 2005 10:53 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― Pete W (peterw), Monday, 5 September 2005 10:58 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
CARVING OF A HORNED GOD! OMG I am irrationally excited by this. I want to go and find it.
― Matt DC (Matt DC), Monday, 5 September 2005 11:00 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
Try using a torch.
I drive through a haunted wood on my way to work. I'll try to find more about the ghost that haunts it.
― Forest Pines (ForestPines), Monday, 5 September 2005 11:01 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
I can't remember the exact location of the caves/cave-ins - I think it was actually a bit of Shooters Hill that collapsed, but I could be wrong. The road was rebuilt, but there are definitely unexplained dips - I think by the weird pond in the crook of two roads that you have to walk by to get to a bus stop. (Sorry, I've not been there in over a year at this point so my memory is getting fuzzy.)
They have all been sealed - apparently Joe and his Subterranea Britannica buddies tried to get in, but you really can't.
― Luminiferous Aether (kate), Monday, 5 September 2005 11:03 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
Theres a nightclub in Melbourne wot is meant to be haunted (the place they hold Retro in). Some upstairs room, aparrently. They include it on the ghost tour you can go on.
― Trayce (trayce), Monday, 5 September 2005 11:04 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― Luminiferous Aether (kate), Monday, 5 September 2005 11:07 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― Archel (Archel), Monday, 5 September 2005 11:15 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― Archel (Archel), Monday, 5 September 2005 11:16 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
For years I was of the belief (as were many others) that the statue had been erected as a monument to a child who had drowned in the Loch. I subsequently felt a wave of sadness everytime I passed it.
It wasn't until last year when I took a guided boat trip on the Loch I found out that the statue was erected by a local landowner in the likeness of his very much alive son.
― Rumpie, Monday, 5 September 2005 11:17 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― j.lu (j.lu), Monday, 5 September 2005 11:21 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― Archel (Archel), Monday, 5 September 2005 11:23 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― Archel (Archel), Monday, 5 September 2005 11:27 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― Matt DC (Matt DC), Monday, 5 September 2005 11:29 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― Archel (Archel), Monday, 5 September 2005 11:34 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― Luminiferous Aether (kate), Monday, 5 September 2005 11:35 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― Raston Warrior Robot (alix), Monday, 5 September 2005 11:39 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
Derek Acorah was signed by Bill Shankly. That's spooky.
― Mikey G (Mikey G), Monday, 5 September 2005 11:44 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― beanz (beanz), Monday, 5 September 2005 12:05 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― JKex (JKex), Monday, 5 September 2005 12:28 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
hah, I live like a block away from you. My Grandad grew up in the neighborhood too. He used to tell a great story about th time Squizzy Taylor borrowed his billy kart and rode it down Bridge Rd.
― sffd, Monday, 5 September 2005 12:51 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― Matt B. (Matt B.), Monday, 5 September 2005 13:13 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― emsk ( emsk), Monday, 5 September 2005 13:17 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― Forest Pines (ForestPines), Monday, 5 September 2005 13:39 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― Rumpie, Monday, 5 September 2005 13:55 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
My aunt's huge house was a former mink farm. Its former owner was the mink farmer, Harold, who died there - and was said by my aunt, to haunt. He made lots of bumping noises but suddenly stopped when my cousin was born in the '70s.
― suzy (suzy), Monday, 5 September 2005 14:00 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― beanz (beanz), Monday, 5 September 2005 14:07 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― Ian Riese-Moraine: Let this bastard out, and you'll get whiplash! (Eastern Mantr, Monday, 5 September 2005 14:36 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
north-east's only one that springs to mind is the lambton worm (wahey, mp3s of the song, there)
― CarsmileSteve (CarsmileSteve), Monday, 5 September 2005 14:47 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
Melbourne's a creepy town. There's quite a few grizzly atories if you look hard enough.
The Cobb & Co depot on Little Lonsdale is the most malevolently evil-feeling place I've been (it was on the Ghost Tour), even more so than the time I visited Glencoe (scene of horrible highland massacre) and Cullodeon as a kid.
― Mike Stuchbery (Mike Stuchbery), Monday, 5 September 2005 23:29 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
Youll find lots of ppl with the same interest there...Alot of it is doing what you are doing here...debunking ghost stories and myths.
― Denee Schleicher, Sunday, 18 September 2005 04:14 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― Hurting (Hurting), Sunday, 18 September 2005 04:39 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― Ned Raggett (Ned), Sunday, 18 September 2005 04:43 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
Dude, Weird NJ!
― Mike Stuchbery (Mike Stuchbery), Sunday, 18 September 2005 04:46 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
(cue bee gees) i started a joke with some friends that there WAS an old town myth that if it rained during Tulip Time, it meant that year's Queen was not a virgin. of course it rained one year, and the queen (who was a kind of a friend of mine) was terrified and embarrassed that ppl thought she was a skank. i have no idea how she heard of the "myth."
― geoff (gcannon), Sunday, 18 September 2005 05:31 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
― cum, Sunday, 18 September 2005 05:33 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
The Buckland Shag!
A shallow steam crosses under the main road in Buckland, near the Jolly Farmers Pub. According to legend, it used to be a silent and very lonely spot. The Story is told of how a farmer's beautiful daughter was courted by the son of a squire. One evening they were walking together beside the stream and halted by a large stone that stood there. The young man talked earnestly to the girl, making a most improper suggestion. Shocked beyond description when she realised what he was proposing, she fell dead at his feet. The would-be seducer was then seized by remorse at the result of his wickedness, and drawing out a dagger, he stabbed himself through the heart. In the morning their bodies were found side-by-side and the nearby stone was found trickling with blood. No wiping or cleaning could stem the flow, and it continued to bleed as a grim reminder of the tragedy.
After this event, a fearsome four-legged beast, ape-like with a shaggy coat, was supposed to squat behind the bleeding stone at midnight , beside the stream that still bears the name, Shag Brook .
It was a brave villager that dared to pass that way at night. One Buckland man, after a night’s drinking session at a Reigate ale-house, swore that if the Shag appeared, he would fight it off with his trusty Hawthorn stick. As he walked home across the meadow near the brook, The Shag suddenly appeared in front of him. The man struck out with his stick, which landed with a thud. In an instant the man became sober and overcome with panic, jumping a stile and running as fast as he could across the field, with the Shag monster following behind. He only just escaped its wrath - so the story goes.
In about 1800 a team of four horses was returning to Reigate one night after delivering corn to Dorking. As they came to the stone beside the Shag Brook they suddenly stopped. No amount of yelling or whipping by the driver would make the horses take another step forward. The horses were trembling and sweating with fear. When day broke a single horse was able to pull the wagon across the brook that the four could not or would not cross the night before. By the late 1800's the Lord of the Manor ordered the stone to be removed to his own grounds to quiet the superstitious fears of his tenants. The Buckland Shag was exorcised by the Rector of Buckland, the Reverend Willoughby Bertie , with bell, book and candle.
This is the logo of the Buckland Shag Morris Men:
I'm seriously considering getting it tattooed on my person...
― CharlieNo4 (Charlie), Sunday, 18 September 2005 06:01 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
i love the shag.
― CharlieNo4 (Charlie), Wednesday, 21 September 2005 12:55 (thirteen years ago) Permalink
I've been watching Ghost Hunters all afternoon, great stuff.
I also just discovered that I've bought many a phone recharge credit in the former home of a multiple murderess, Ms Martha Needles. She offed her family and a couple of lodgers in the late 19th century for insurance money with arsenic. There was quite an uproar and she ended up hanged at the Old Melbourne Gaol. Apparently she's still responsible for screaming and scratching at night time within the gaol to this day.
― Mikey Bidness, Friday, 19 October 2007 11:56 (eleven years ago) Permalink
― snoball, Friday, 19 October 2007 12:16 (eleven years ago) Permalink
ohhh yeah. here it is:
― CharlieNo4, Friday, 19 October 2007 12:21 (eleven years ago) Permalink
Ok, now that I could see as a design.
― Mikey Bidness, Friday, 19 October 2007 14:34 (eleven years ago) Permalink
― Mikey Bidness, Wednesday, 9 April 2008 07:11 (eleven years ago) Permalink
Billy in the Bowl - he was this fella who had no legs and used to go around in a wooden bowl with wheels. And he used to murder prostitutes, but no one minded, because he was an auld Dublin character, wheh wheh wheh.
― The Real Dirty Vicar, Wednesday, 9 April 2008 09:40 (eleven years ago) Permalink
Black Annis haunts various parts of Leicester. She would abduct children, leading them away through tunnels from the city to the hills outside where her cave was. There she would eat them and use their skins as clothes. There is an archway near the castle which my daughter will not go under after hearing this tale.
― Ned Trifle II, Wednesday, 9 April 2008 10:15 (eleven years ago) Permalink
Can I change usernames?
― Jarlrmai, Wednesday, 9 April 2008 14:10 (eleven years ago) Permalink
One of the men suspected of being Jack The Ripper taught there.
Matt, was it Montague John Druitt?
― roxymuzak, Wednesday, 9 April 2008 14:12 (eleven years ago) Permalink
That's the fella.
― Matt DC, Wednesday, 9 April 2008 14:14 (eleven years ago) Permalink
He's innocent! And has an awesome moustache.
― roxymuzak, Wednesday, 9 April 2008 14:15 (eleven years ago) Permalink
he committed suicide:(
― latebloomer, Wednesday, 9 April 2008 20:17 (eleven years ago) Permalink
there's a spot in the hills about a mile from where I grew up called 'gravity point' where you park your car on (what looks like?) a downhill slope, put it in neutral and it drifts backwards up the hill a bit. good times
― tremendoid, Wednesday, 9 April 2008 20:34 (eleven years ago) Permalink
Tremendoid, that's awesome! YOU're awesome. I'ma go take a drive this weekend.
― kingkongvsgodzilla, Wednesday, 9 April 2008 20:58 (eleven years ago) Permalink
Like the electric brae?
But that's in the middle of the road - you can't go make out there or anything, I think.
― aimurchie, Wednesday, 9 April 2008 21:10 (eleven years ago) Permalink
slightly off-topic, perhaps, but last night i was at this bar and people were rehashing one of those gerbil urban legends and relating it to a local personality, and i wanted to be like, "um, that's a ridiculous urban legend", but i didn't and humanity is possibly the poorer for it.
it's kind of like when i was volunteering at the soup kitchen and arguing over the virtues of port vs stouts
― dell, Wednesday, 9 April 2008 21:18 (eleven years ago) Permalink
i know you're being an asshole but anyway, mine is the 'pasadena, california' one
― tremendoid, Wednesday, 9 April 2008 21:32 (eleven years ago) Permalink
― Gukbe, Wednesday, 9 April 2008 22:17 (eleven years ago) Permalink
Partholón was the son of Sera, son of Sru, a descendant of Magog, son of Japheth, son of Noah. He came to Ireland from the Middle East through Anatolia, Greece, Sicily and Iberia, and arrived 300 or 312 years after the flood, on 14 May, a Tuesday, landing at Inber Scéne (Kenmare in South Kerry)
― i read like cookie monster eats (darraghmac), Friday, 13 July 2012 00:14 (six years ago) Permalink
This weirdo artist made a totem pole for a public park. City workers cut off a few feet of it at the bottom (to make it fit or somethng). The artist got hella pissed and cursed the town's sewer system. The curse gets brought up whenever the town has sewer problems.
― windjammer voyage (blank), Friday, 13 July 2012 00:23 (six years ago) Permalink
woah, just how pissed did he get
― i read like cookie monster eats (darraghmac), Friday, 13 July 2012 00:25 (six years ago) Permalink
pissed meaning angry lol
― windjammer voyage (blank), Friday, 13 July 2012 00:57 (six years ago) Permalink
Lugh joins the Tuatha Dé Danann
As a young man Lugh travels to Tara to join the court of king Nuada of the Tuatha Dé Danann. The doorkeeper will not let him in unless he has a skill with which to serve the king. He offers his services as a wright, a smith, a champion, a swordsman, a harpist, a hero, a poet and historian, a sorcerer, and a craftsman, but each time is rejected as the Tuatha Dé Danann already have someone with that skill. But when Lugh asks if they have anyone with all those skills simultaneously, the doorkeeper has to admit defeat, and Lugh joins the court and is appointed Chief Ollam of Ireland. He wins a flagstone-throwing contest against Ogma, the champion, and entertains the court with his harp. The Tuatha Dé Danann are at that time oppressed by the Fomorians, and Lugh is amazed how meekly they accept this. Nuada wonders if this young man could lead them to freedom. Lugh is given command over the Tuatha Dé Danann, and he begins making preparations for war.[
i have got to get a good collection of this stuff, it's astonishing
― banlieue jagger (darraghmac), Friday, 21 December 2012 00:13 (six years ago) Permalink
the Kirtland, Ohio Melon Heads
― Gollum: "Hot, Ready and Smeagol!" (Phil D.), Friday, 21 December 2012 00:28 (six years ago) Permalink
my synagogue: http://www.weirdus.com/states/pennsylvania/ghosts/general_wayne/index.php
― Mordy, Friday, 21 December 2012 00:32 (six years ago) Permalink
Prince Georges County, MD, is said to be home to the Goatman. In some versions of the story, he is said to have been a scientist at a USDA facility, who was doing some sort of genetic engineering involving goats.― j.lu (j.lu), Monday, September 5, 2005 7:21 AM (7 years ago) Bookmark Flag Post Permalink
― j.lu (j.lu), Monday, September 5, 2005 7:21 AM (7 years ago) Bookmark Flag Post Permalink
This was really close to the house I lived in until I was 6. Car rides at night got real intense after my mom told me about it.
― how's life, Friday, 21 December 2012 00:37 (six years ago) Permalink
One day at Emain Macha, Cú Chulainn overhears Cathbad teaching his pupils. One asks him what that day is auspicious for, and Cathbad replies that any warrior who takes arms that day will have everlasting fame. Cú Chulainn, though only seven years old, goes to Conchobar and asks for arms. None of the weapons given to him withstand his strength, until Conchobar gives him his own weapons. But when Cathbad sees this he grieves, because he had not finished his prophecy—the warrior who took arms that day would be famous, but his life would be short. Soon afterwards, in response to a similar prophecy by Cathbad, Cú Chulainn demands a chariot from Conchobar, and only the king's own chariot withstands him. He sets off on a foray and kills the three sons of Nechtan Scéne, who had boasted they had killed more Ulstermen than there were Ulstermen still living. He returns to Emain Macha in his battle frenzy, and the Ulstermen are afraid he will slaughter them all. Conchobar's wife Mugain leads out the women of Emain, and they bare their breasts to him. He averts his eyes, and the Ulstermen wrestle him into a barrel of cold water, which explodes from the heat of his body. They put him in a second barrel, which boils, and a third, which warms to a pleasant temperature
rumours of a fassbender movie, ah jaysus
― mundane peaceable username (darraghmac), Thursday, 18 July 2013 10:08 (five years ago) Permalink
After one particularly arduous combat Cú Chulainn lies severely wounded, but is visited by Lug, who tells him he is his father and heals his wounds. When Cú Chulainn wakes up and sees that the boy-troop of Emain Macha have attacked the Connacht army and been slaughtered, he has his most spectacular ríastrad yet:
“ The first warp-spasm seized Cúchulainn, and made him into a monstrous thing, hideous and shapeless, unheard of. His shanks and his joints, every knuckle and angle and organ from head to foot, shook like a tree in the flood or a reed in the stream. His body made a furious twist inside his skin, so that his feet and shins switched to the rear and his heels and calves switched to the front... On his head the temple-sinews stretched to the nape of his neck, each mighty, immense, measureless knob as big as the head of a month-old child... he sucked one eye so deep into his head that a wild crane couldn't probe it onto his cheek out of the depths of his skull; the other eye fell out along his cheek. His mouth weirdly distorted: his cheek peeled back from his jaws until the gullet appeared, his lungs and his liver flapped in his mouth and throat, his lower jaw struck the upper a lion-killing blow, and fiery flakes large as a ram's fleece reached his mouth from his throat... The hair of his head twisted like the tange of a red thornbush stuck in a gap; if a royal apple tree with all its kingly fruit were shaken above him, scarce an apple would reach the ground but each would be spiked on a bristle of his hair as it stood up on his scalp with rage. ”
—Thomas Kinsella (translator), The Táin, Oxford University Press, 1969, pp. 150–153
― mundane peaceable username (darraghmac), Thursday, 18 July 2013 10:13 (five years ago) Permalink
how can I get lj on dis ting /\
― thoughts you made second posts about (darraghmac), Wednesday, 13 May 2015 22:33 (four years ago) Permalink