Grolshynch Bluesowen was a name spoken in a pristine moment of insanity. Names have power. So does insanity. It was inevitable that Grolshynch became a real person, warping into reality with no attempt at coherence. And with a name like that, he was a frightful person. A sad, frightful person. Why sad, you ask? Read on.
With a snarl for a whisper and sheer terror in the most benign looks, there was nothing salvageable in his character or redeemable in his nature. Grolshynch was one of nature’s bad guys. He had never hurt a soul or carried off a woman. But he did not need to. His destiny was to be the villain, the monster, the beast. He came into being like an action figure, with a clichéd profile sketch sealing his existence.
What did he look like, this Grolshynch? Did he have bloodshot eyes with the fires of hell glowing in them? Did his diabolic smile reveal sharp canines that seemed to grow even as you watched? Nothing of the sort. Grolshynch didn’t have an appearance. The man that spawned him had not bothered with visuals, merely a name and an intent. Grolshynch lurked so well that you would never catch sight of him. And if you did, what you would see was anyone’s guess. But it would be sure to stop your heart. Imagine, a sight that went with a name and personality such as that, springing at you out of the shadows.
What did Grolshynch do? When he was not lurking, that is. Say, on a Sunday morning. Did he read the newspaper on the pot? How did like his eggs?
Do you really want to know? Do you care? Wouldn’t that spoil it for you? Giving a Caliban like him a life, human traits. How could you justify the delicious terror that you would otherwise feel when you whispered his name? Let’s say he used an ultra-soft toothbrush because he had sensitive gums. Wouldn’t that just destroy the entire concept of Grolshynch forever and ever? Would you rather not have his shoving a rusty wicked-looking pick into his void-like mouth to dislodge that shard of rotting bone left over from his last meal, a meal you would rather not imagine?
What’s this rambling piece about? Who is Grolshynch Bluesowen? Grolshynch is a monster, more precisely, a social monster. With a personality that is a perfect match for society’s picture of a nightmare and origins lost in the mists of a twisted man’s insanity, he never did stand a choice.
By the way, he likes to read the Times on the pot. Especially when he has white bread the previous night. It constipates him. Meat, you ask? No way! Grolshynch is vegan. He can barely stand the whiff of milk, leave alone meat. So he doesn’t like eggs, any which way. And despite his sensitive gums, he has quite a neat set of teeth with regular canines. And once you get past his inevitable exterior, he’s quite a nice guy, actually.
What was that, you want to add him on Facebook?Cogito Ergo Finito
With a snarl for a whisper and sheer terror in the most benign looks, there was nothing salvageable in his character or redeemable in his nature. Grolshynch was one of nature’s bad guys. He had never hurt a soul or carried off a woman. But he did not need to. His destiny was to be the villain, the monster, the beast. He came into being like an action figure, with a clichéd profile sketch sealing his existence.
What did he look like, this Grolshynch? Did he have bloodshot eyes with the fires of hell glowing in them? Did his diabolic smile reveal sharp canines that seemed to grow even as you watched? Nothing of the sort. Grolshynch didn’t have an appearance. The man that spawned him had not bothered with visuals, merely a name and an intent. Grolshynch lurked so well that you would never catch sight of him. And if you did, what you would see was anyone’s guess. But it would be sure to stop your heart. Imagine, a sight that went with a name and personality such as that, springing at you out of the shadows.
What did Grolshynch do? When he was not lurking, that is. Say, on a Sunday morning. Did he read the newspaper on the pot? How did like his eggs?
Do you really want to know? Do you care? Wouldn’t that spoil it for you? Giving a Caliban like him a life, human traits. How could you justify the delicious terror that you would otherwise feel when you whispered his name? Let’s say he used an ultra-soft toothbrush because he had sensitive gums. Wouldn’t that just destroy the entire concept of Grolshynch forever and ever? Would you rather not have his shoving a rusty wicked-looking pick into his void-like mouth to dislodge that shard of rotting bone left over from his last meal, a meal you would rather not imagine?
What’s this rambling piece about? Who is Grolshynch Bluesowen? Grolshynch is a monster, more precisely, a social monster. With a personality that is a perfect match for society’s picture of a nightmare and origins lost in the mists of a twisted man’s insanity, he never did stand a choice.
By the way, he likes to read the Times on the pot. Especially when he has white bread the previous night. It constipates him. Meat, you ask? No way! Grolshynch is vegan. He can barely stand the whiff of milk, leave alone meat. So he doesn’t like eggs, any which way. And despite his sensitive gums, he has quite a neat set of teeth with regular canines. And once you get past his inevitable exterior, he’s quite a nice guy, actually.
What was that, you want to add him on Facebook?Cogito Ergo Finito
1 comment:
hahahaha...and i had to send you a message on facebook before reading this :) is the name some kind of a contraction?
Post a Comment