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Phantasm of the Orchestra
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 Posted: Thu Mar 19, 2009 8:11 am
So. Basically, I came across the myspace of this guy from back in high school that once had a crush on me, and felt the best way to express that was to follow me around playing the chorus to Ironman on an endless loop. Out of curiosity I skimmed through his blogs, and was flabbergasted.
So, at the risk of being a complete douche, I totally wrote a parody of one of his blogs, and am posting it here, assuming that only certain people will read it. XD
In the next post, I've posted his original blog entry, so those reading the parody would understand wtf I'm talking about, though I'm sure you won't. Then the third post = the parody.
And no, I can't believe I spent that much time writing all that up in one go either. XD It's a good thing I don't believe in sleep.
Also, this probably won't be as funny without Amber reading it aloud. XD
And GOD, this entire thing's so retarded. XD
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Posted: Thu Mar 19, 2009 8:12 am
I
Terror sounds beneath the quiet halls as I gaze, perched above the lower set of the balcony. Do I fear for my life? Nay, for I am a man near the concept of immortality itself. Nothing in my way can touch or harm me, or even begin to imagine having that kind of power. It is a sense of recklessness I take upon myself for having this sort of thing within my grasp, but I do feel that I can control this as a man would to a television screen while changing channels. Alas, it is not about I, it is about what lurks above. From where I rest there is nothing fearful nor threatening, but to look above me is to wonder what strange things could be abound. I hear screams, shreiks, and sounds of horror that could only have me in bewilderence as to what may come. Do I stay down here amongst the halls, or should I take flight and engage whatever begins and ends above my current place? A decision must be made.
But I've proven that even a madman can wander into the battlefield with nothing more than his being at his side and come out perfectly intact, hence where I see my immortality to come from. If I am indeed not immortal, then by some strange act of God I survived this wreckage. Even with this stone, I may yonder forth and die in a resting place only meant for the forsaken and the damned. I shall not faulter, for if I stand up and leave this place, I am but a coward. As for stepping forward, that would only make me realize I am a madman as to confront the sounds that could only haunt my nightmares. To pick and to choose his or her own battles is a tough one, and I've decided not to run away. As I get up and walk away from my perch, I turn around to see what is left of what could have been and now look forward into the great unknown to see what lies ahead.
To climb, shall I take. This house of horrors is simply but a mistery to me. I fear none, but I feel the darkness that surrounds. It is a strange, unpleasent, aura that binds to me as if were some sort of glue here as I take these stairs. I cannot look back now because if I should choose to look back, I would fear the coming and lust for my old perch. I continue onward as I hear the screams of what may be ten-thousand souls screaming in constant unison to be freed from this place. They are not immortal, they are the ones who looked back upon themselves. They are godless, savage beasts of many sins that may scare the lives of children and adults both. I calmly think to myself through these corridors that everything just might be alright when I get to the end of this road. Maybe, prehaps, these screams are cries of joy from those who have taken this road before me. This is delusion, as per my immortality. I am just a fool.
Delusion truely comes at the denial of all things real, and the acceptance of everything that is false. This house is fake, these stairs are fake, these screams are fake, and of course the world at this level is absolutely and utterly real. I look down, wondering upon everything that I have possibly reached the top. The screams only begin to get louder and louder as I approach the darkness at this level. To drop my guard would to be allowing the falsehood of my situation to consume me and transform me into one of these ten-thousand screaming souls. I am not one of them, I am not fake. I am absolutely real. I continue onward through this turmoil to figure out where this sign of evil could possibly originate from. Despite being at the top, I see no logical path to follow from here on. It is simply awry as if I were on a gameshow. Pick a door, any door, and I may possibly win or lose.
The door closest to my right seems the quietest, and as per it's opposite, the door of the left seems the loudest. Should I follow my instincts I would pick the left door, but this house is known for it's endeavors and it's delusons. As I said before, either door is a gamble in this house. I could easily win or lose. I could die here, or worse, lose my soul. I bail out on delusion and pick the right door for the quietness. A quiet room in a house full of screaming isn't quite right. I crack open the door, and indeed I am right in my selection. The screaming amplifies as I walk in and shut the door behind me. A blindingly dark place I have entered, and now there is truely no turning back. As the door shuts I hear the sounds of it locking, only forcing my progression forward toward what may possibly be my own doom. As I gaze I notice a cracked mirror at the end of this narrow hallway. I creep closer towards it, not in fear, but rather in awe of this mirror. The fact that it sits at the end of this long hallway only overwhelms my curiosity. I wonder to myself about it and as to why it may be cracked, be it the demons that have been here before me? Not even God could be quite sure of this thing.
I arrive at the end of my hallway and take notice of the mirror. It is cracked into millions and millions of glass shards, only being held together by some divine force. Around the mirror are small, vague writings, none of them make sense. I slowly read them one by one. The sheer amount of time this place has taken to form is only rivaled by the 6 days that the Lord took to create the earth. It is indeed beautiful, except for the mirror. A peering gaze I let loose into the mirror, and I finally realize what this place is. The mirror begins to seal itself and the screams only get higher in pitch. The man is here, and his calling is the name of Death. The last thing that I notice is the timer ticking down the seconds until the mirror completely seals. I peer in again, and my fears are true. The one I see in the mirror is myself, and this place is only a reflection of the Chaos known in my name.
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Phantasm of the Orchestra
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Phantasm of the Orchestra
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Posted: Thu Mar 19, 2009 8:14 am
II
Joyful yowls curl from my feet beneath, as I perched above my chamber door. Perched, and sat, and nothing more. Do I fear for my life? Yea, for I am a mere mortal and I know not from whence the sounds sound, though, I assume, they come from beneath my feet. But they cannot touch me, for though I am a being of flesh, easily torn apart by fear-striking souls, but they are downstairs. But I have control over going up or down the stairs, like a man who chooses to watch the news...or the comedy channel. Alas! It is not what is downstairs, but upstairs. Because although however the sounds are obviously careening beneath the floorboards in an alarming manner so as to have caught my attention up until this point, it is the silentness above that radiates above like a silent cloud that rains upon my deep interests and bewilders me. Do I stay where I currently perch? Or go downstairs? Or go upstairs? The choice is mine to be had.
I was bored and had nothing better to do, so I decided to press my luck. After all, I was bored and had nothing better to do. Plus, I've proven to myself that I could run out into a battlefield like a madman and come out unscathed by physical, emotional, and spiritual scars. I might even be invincible, at least until something renders me fallible. I’m not entirely sure about it. I often change my mind like a girl changes clothes. I always think, always speak, cryptically. I should know that you're no good for me. Because you're hot and you're cold, you're yes and you're no, you're in and you're out, you're up and you down, you're wrong when it's right, you're black and it's white, but this isn't about you. It's about me. My frailty in my immortality. But I decided to face my intensely waving fears, their fronds of darkness are nearly tangible, reaching out to choke me. But I will not fear, for fear is an illusion. I daintily descend from my perch and walk forward a little. I turn back sharply! But only to find, that everything that once was, too, was an illusion. I think I’ll go upstairs now.
Shall I really go upstairs? That is the question: whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them? I think I know the answer, and as much as I wish to leave this question unanswerable, I feel myself ascend the first step, as if I were a victim of a really intense Jedi mind trick. I cannot look back, because all the lights are off and it’s hard to see. But I can hear riotous laughter of what may be ten-thousand souls laughing inconsistently, and their combined voices sound like a tidal wave of My Little Ponies. They are godless, savage beasts of many sins that may scare the personalities of children and adults both. I try to calm myself down, willing myself to finish the journey I have undertaken. Perhaps the uproarious laughter was due to the souls who did the same thing I’m doing epically failed and have been driven thusly mad. I’m an idiot.
Delusion truly comes at the denial of all things real, because that’s what a delusion is. This house is fake, this laughter is fake, these souls are fake, my immortality is fake, my persona is fake, I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter is margarine that contains traces of trans fats despite advertising assuring otherwise, reality tv is fake, these designer drugs are fake, but the world at large is undeniably real. So, so, real. I’m real. I’m real special and am not fake laughing as a fake soul in a fake house. I look down to see if I’ve gone up. I’m so real. I reach the landing but I can’t figure out which way to go from here. There’s doors everywhere and I think I should open one. Just because. I might win a prize or something.
I look at the door nearest to my left and think about opening it. The door farthest away from me is pounding with a deafening roar, but this door seems deathly silent. My heart pounds and I can feel the tendrils of darkness yet again clutching at my throat, that I do. A wrap a sweating fist around the cold, icy handle, like fire and ice, and wrench open the door, feeling the air explode out of me. It’s a closet full of towels. I decide the noisy door is a better choice. I reach the door. There is no turning back now. Somehow by opening this door I could die, or lose my soul, even though I was pretty sure I was invincible and real a few minutes ago, and even though nothing of consequence has happened thus far. I slowly crack open the door, revealing a blackness so intense like gazing into the eyes of an emo kitten. I step into the darkness, walls shaking with hellish mirth. The door slams behind me, and suddenly, flames of colors unimaginable leap up behind me, like in the first Harry Potter book. Now I know there’s no turning back. The flames swoop and encircle the room, revealing the dark. One long carpet extends before me, some ancient thing that even God could not envision. It seems to be the only safe route, leading me to another hallway. As the flames dance like Esmeralda, I peer into the fiery liquid, and all is revealed the source of the laughing. Garden gnomes. Millions of them. Giggling like mad as fake souls shoot through the air like dead fireworks. The Travelocity Roaming Gnome, their leader, pointed to the hallway, divining my fate. I looked ahead and noticed a mirror. I wonder if the giggling gnomes did something to the mirror. Not even God would know.
I walked across the hallway when I noticed the mirror. I wondered if the giggling gnomes did something to the mirror. I think God would know. Doth mirror had been forsaken by its keeper; it was dusty and covered in millions and millions and millions and millions of cracks, held together by some strange, unpleasant aura, binding the shards together as if it were some sort of glue. Vague inscriptions wrote at the top of the mirror. “erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi” None of them make sense, per se. I finally figure out where I am, and ultimately know, that this fake house was created in the same span of time as the rest of the universe, and I peer into the mirror, and I see a shadowy form approaching me from the other side, and he is Death. I pressed against the mirror as a chorus of giggling turns into screams, and I press deeper, becoming one with the mirror. And I suddenly my fears are realized. The one I see in the mirror is the Travelocity Gnome, and this place is only a reflection of the Delusion that not even God could be quite sure of. And I jizzed in my pants.
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Posted: Thu Mar 19, 2009 10:26 am
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Posted: Thu Mar 19, 2009 4:19 pm
XD Sarah, I laughed, SO HARD. XD
I cannot wait to read this aloud, I don't know if I'll be able to do it without collapsing in "hellish mirth", I might have to practice it first. XD
But seriously, that was ******** amazing. XD
I mean it. XD
I am still giggling.
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Posted: Thu Mar 19, 2009 5:44 pm
I AM IN PAIN FROM LAUGHING SO HARD.
HELLISH, MYRTHFUL PAIN.
AND I JIZZED IN MY PANTS.
OH GOD SARAH.
THAT'S THE BEST THING EVER.
I Want To Show My Housemate.
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Phantasm of the Orchestra
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Posted: Fri Mar 20, 2009 6:17 am
XD XD XD
Oh GOD, do you know how much it hurt my soul to write with bad grammar ON PURPOSE? I think a part of me DIED. XD
I kind of wish I could post that as a response in his blog, just to drop a friendly "I can do it too."
But I remember in high school how he and his friends would fawn over his deep, dark, poetical, fabulous writing.
Revenge is sweet.
Also, Amber, I can't wait to hear you read it. XD I want the recording on my iPod. If you can read through the entire thing I'll totally like, make you a giant a** poster. XD
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Posted: Sat Mar 21, 2009 7:19 am
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