Let her play with it, get her fingers in there, and the other hand on a nipple, ah, yes, and now she Pat-no, Sophia is kneeling to unzipper my fly. My penis grew harder and her mouth opened in expectation. I reached down and cupped her breast with one hand, taking the nipple she had been caressing, feeling it harden more.
La chica de antes: Spanish-language ed of The Girl Before (Spanish Edition)
Did James Bond ever do this in Doctor No's dungeon? Sophia's tongue not my hand, not my hand is busy and hot, sending pulsations through my entire body. Take it, you cunt. Take it, O God, a flash of the Passaic and the gun at my forehead, and you can't call them cunts nowadays, ah, you cunt, you cunt, take it, and it is Pat, it's that night at her pad when we were both zonked on hashish and I never never never had a blow-job like that.
The second blast lifted me again and threw me with a crunch against the wall. Jesus H. Particular Christ on a crutch, I thought frantically, whatever it is that's happening they're going to find me with come on the front of my trousers. The machine gun suddenly stopped stuttering and I thought I heard a voice cry "Earwicker, Bloom and Craft. Then the third explosion came, and I covered my head as parts of the ceiling began falling on me. A key suddenly clanked against his cell door. Looking up, I saw a young woman in a trench coat, carrying a tommy gun, and desperately trying one key after another in the lock.
The woman grinned tensely at the sound. I limped after her down the hall. Suddenly she stopped, studied the wall a moment, and pressed against a brick. The wall slid smoothly aside and we entered what appeared to be a chapel of some sort. For the chapel was not anything that a sane man would expect to find in Mad Dog County Jail. A black Cadillac awaited us. He was an old man, more than sixty, but hard and shrewd-looking. I was pushed into the back seat-which was already full of grim-looking men and grimmer-looking munitions of various sorts-and the car started at once.
A taste of their own medicine. What makes you think Sheriff. Meanwhile, wipe the come off your pants. Cowboy the son of a bitch. In an ordinary hit, you can be precise, even artistic, because after all the only thing that matters is that the person so honored should be definitely dead afterwards. Cowboying, in the language of the profession, leaves no room for personal taste or delicacy: the important thing is that there should be a lot of lead in the air and the victim should leave a spectacularly gory corpse for the tabloids, as notification that the Brotherhood is both edgy and short-tempered and everybody better watch his.
Although it wasn't obligatory, it was considered a sign of true enthusiasm on a cowboy job if the guest of honor took along a few innocent bystanders, so everybody would understand exactly how edgy the Brotherhood was feeling. The Dutchman took two such bystanders. And in a different. Further back, back further: February 7, , Vincent "Mad Dog" Coll looks through the phone-booth door and sees a familiar face crossing the drugstore and a. But tilt the picture another way and-this emerges: On November 10, , the "World's Greatest Newspaper," the Chicago Tribune announced the election to the Presidency of the United States of America of Thomas Dewey, a man who not only was not elected but would not even have been alive if Banana Nose Maldonado had not given such specific instructions concerning the Dutchman to Charlie the Bug, Mendy Weiss and Jimmy the Shrew.
Who shot you? Mother is the best bet, Oh mama mama mama. I want harmony. The Dutchman still replies: Oh mama mama mama. French Canadian bean soup. We drove till dawn. The car stopped on a road by a beach of white sand. Tall, skinny palm trees stood black against a turquoise sky.
This must be the Gulf of Mexico, I thought. They could now load me with chains and drop me in the gulf, hundreds of miles from Mad Dog, without involving. Sheriff Jim. No, they had raided Sheriff Jim's jail. Or was that a hallucination? I was going to have to keep more of an eye on reality. This was a new day, and I was going to know facts hard and sharp- edged in the sunlight and keep them straight.
I was stiff and sore and tired from a night of driving. The only rest I'd gotten was fitful dozing in which cyclopean ruby eyes looked at me till I awoke in terror. Mavis, the woman with the tommy gun, had put her arms around me several times when I screamed. She would murmur soothingly to me, and once her lips, smooth, cool and soft, had brushed my ear. At the beach, Mavis motioned me out of the car. The sun was as hot as the bishop's jock strap when he finished his sermon on the evils of pornography.
She stepped out behind me and slammed the door. Just then the driver of the car gunned the motor. The car swung round in a wide U-turn. In a minute its rear end had disappeared beyond a bend in the Gulf highway. We were alone with the rising sun and the sand-strewn asphalt. Mavis motioned me to walk down the beach with her. A little ways ahead, far back from the water, was a small white-painted frame cabana. A woodpecker landed wearily on its roof like he had flown more missions than Yossarian and never intended to go up again.
A private execution on a lonely beach in another state so Sheriff Jim can't get blamed? If ever a man had KKK written all over his forehead, it was that reactionary redneck prick. If you're against commies, you've got to be against me. And a militant radical is nothing but a big- mouthed liberal with a Che costume. We're the real radicals, George.
We do things, like last night Except for Weatherman and Morituri, all the militant radicals in your crowd ever do is take out the Molotov cocktail diagram that they carefully clipped from The New York Review of Books, hang it on the bathroom door and jack-off in connection with it. No offense meant. Preferably not at all. And I. Why did you rescue me? The woodpecker turned his head and looked at us with the other eye. I might have guessed, I thought, a Hope fiend. She went on, "It took a whole book to answer that one. As for Hagbard, you'll learn by seeing.
Enough for now that you know that he's the man who requested that we rescue you. That splotch of come on your trousers has had me horny ever since Mad Dog. Also the excitement of the raid. I've got some tension to burn off. I'd prefer to save myself for a man who completely meets the criteria of my value system. But I could get awfully horny waiting for him. No regrets, no guilt, though. You're all right. You'll do. I doubt you ever met a woman who believed in the real laissez faire capitalist system. Such a woman is not likely to. She shrugged out of her trench coat and spread it carefully on the floor.
She was wearing a black sweater and a pair of blue jeans, both tight-fitting. She pulled the sweater off over her head. She was wearing no bra, and her breasts were apple-sized cherry-tipped cones. There was some sort of dark red birthmark between them. She tugged them down over her hips. I felt my hardon swelling up inside my pants. How can I know facts hard and sharp-edged in the sunlight and keep them straight when this happens? The Woodpecker pecked on the out-house door; He pecked and he pecked till his pecker was sore Don't you know how to play?
Did you ever think that life is maybe a. Life is a toy, George, I'm a toy. Think of me as a doll. Instead of sticking pins in me, you can stick your thing in me. Fm a magic doll, like a voodoo doll. A doll is a work of art. Art is magic. You make an image of the thing you want to possess or cope with, so you can cope with it.
You make a model, so you have it under control. Don't you want to possess me? You can, but just for a moment. I shook my head. The way you're talking-it's not real. It happens that at such times I'm more open to the vibrations from outer space. George, are unicorns real? Who made unicorns? Is a thought about unicorns a real thought? How is it different from the mental picture of my pussy-which you've never seen-that. Does the fact that you can think of fucking me and I can think of fucking with you mean we are going to fuck?
Or is the universe going to surprise us? Wisdom is wearying, folly is fun. What does a horse with a single long horn sticking straight out of its head. Then she bowed her head. I had no right to do that. Hit me back, if you want. But I'm afraid you've turned me off sexually. You're a healthy man. But now I want to give you something without taking anything from you. She slipped her mouth around it. It was my jail. She took her lips away from my penis, and I looked down and saw that the head was shiny with saliva and swelling visibly in rapid throbs.
Her breasts-my glance avoided the Masonic tattoo-were somewhat fuller, and the nipples stuck out erect. She smiled. Shut up and get hard. This is just quid pro quo. When I came I didn't feel much juice jetting out through my penis; I'd used a lot up whacking off in jail. I noted with pleasure that what there was of it she didn't spit out. She smiled and swallowed it.
The sun was higher and hotter in the sky and the woodpecker celebrated by drumming faster and harder. The Gulf sparkled like Mrs. Aster's best diamonds. I peered out at the water: just below the horizon there was a flash of gold among the diamonds. Mavis suddenly struck her legs out in front of her and dropped onto her back.
I can't give without taking. Please, quick, while it's still hard, get down here and slip it to me. I looked down. Her lips were trembling. She was tugging the gold panties away from her black- escutcheoned crotch. My wet cock was already beginning to droop. I looked down at her and grinned. They don't meet the criteria of my value system.
I think they're nuts. It was sore anyway, like in the rhyme. Her hand was moving rapidly between her legs. In a moment she arched her back, eyes clenched tight, and emitted a little scream, like a baby seagull out on its first flight, a strangely virginal sound. She lay relaxed for a moment, then picked herself up off the cabana floor and started to dress.
She glanced out at the water and I followed her eyes. She pointed at the distant glint of gold. A buzzing sound floated across the water. After a moment, I spotted a small black motorboat coming toward us. We watched in silence as the boat grounded its bow on the white beach. Mavis motioned at me, and I followed her down the sand to the water's edge. There was a man in a black turtleneck. Mavis climbed in the bow and turned to me with a questioning look.
The woodpecker felt bad vibes and took off with a flapping and cawing like the omen of. What the hell am I getting into, and why am I so crazy as to go along? I tried to see what it was out there that the motorboat had come from, but the sun on the gold metal was flashing blindingly and I couldn't make out a shape.
I looked back at the black motorboat and saw that there was a circular gold object painted on the bow and there was a little black flag flying at the stern with the same gold object in its center. I pointed at the emblem on the bow. People who chose a golden apple as their symbol couldn't be all bad. I jumped into the boat, and its pilot used an oar to push off. We buzzed over the smooth water of the Gulf toward the golden object on the horizon.
It was still blinding from reflected sunlight, but I was now able to make out a long, low silhouette with a small tower in the center, like a matchbox on top of a broomstick. Then I realized that I had my judgment of distances wrong. The ship, or whatever it was, was much more distant than I'd first realized. It was a submarine-a golden submarine-and it appeared to be the equivalent of five city blocks long, as big as the biggest ocean liner I had ever heard of.
The conning tower was about three stories high. As we drew up beside it I saw a man on the tower waving to us. Mavis waved back. I waved halfheartedly, supposing somehow that it was the thing to do. I was still thinking about that Masonic tattoo. A hatch opened in the submarine's side, and the little motorboat floated right in. The hatch closed, the water drained out, and the boat settled into a cradle. Mavis pointed to a door that looked like an entrance to an elevator. She pressed a button and the door opened, revealing a carpeted gilt cage.
I stepped in and was whisked up three stories. The door opened and I stepped out into a small room where a man was waiting, standing with a grace that reminded me of a Hindu or an American Indian. I thought at once of Metternich's remark about Talleyrand: "If somebody kicked him in the backside, not a muscle would move in his face until he decided what to do. He bore a striking resemblance to Anthony Quinn; he had thick black eyebrows, olive skin, and a strong nose and jaw.
He was big and burly, powerful muscles bulging under his black-and-green striped nautical sweater. He held out his hand. We shook hands; he had a grip like King Kong. Fortunately, I have Viking ancestors, as well. My mother is Norwegian. However, blond hair, blue eyes, and fair skin are all recessive.
My Sicilian father creamed my mother in the genes. I wouldn't have believed a submarine like this could exist without the whole world knowing about it. This is what the liberated mind can do. I am the twentieth-century Leonardo, except that I'm not gay. I've tried it, of course, but women interest me more. The world has never heard of Hagbard Celine. That is because the world is stupid and Celine is very smart. The submarine is radar and sonar transparent. It is superior to the best either the American or Russian government even has on the drawing board.
It can go to any depth in any ocean. We've sounded the Atlantic Trench, the Mindinao Deep, and a few holes in the floor of the sea that no one's ever heard of or named. Lief Erickson is capable of meeting the biggest, most ferocious, and smartest monsters of the deep, of which we've found God's plenty. I'd even risk her in battle with Leviathan himself, though I'm just as pleased that we've only seen him.
That fish-if fish it be-that is to your whale what your whale is to your meanest guppy. Don't ask me what Leviathan is-I haven't even gotten close enough to tell you his shape. There's only one of him, her, or it in all that world that's water. I don't know how it reproduces-maybe it doesn't have to reproduce-maybe it's immortal. It may be neither plant nor. Oh, we've seen monsters, George. I'm talking about seeing things and being with people that will really liberate your mind-not just replacing liberalism with Marxism so you can shock your parents.
I'm talking about getting altogether off the grubby plane you live on and taking a trip with Hagbard to a transcendental universe. Did you know that on sunken Atlantis there is a. The fact is I simply don't believe Atlantis ever existed. This is pure bullshit. Do you trust the evidence of your senses? I hope so, because you'll see Atlantis and the pyramid, just as I said.
Those bastards, the Illuminati, are trying to get gold to further their conspiracies by looting an Atlantean temple. And Hagbard is going to foil them by robbing it first. Because I fight the Illuminati every chance I get. And because I'm an. Will you join us? You're free to leave right now, if you wish.
I'll put you. I write magazine articles for a living. And even if ninety percent of what you say is bullshit, moonshine, and the most elaborate put-on since Richard Nixon, this is the best story I've ever come across. A nut with a gigantic golden submarine whose followers include beautiful guerrilla women who blow up southern jails and take out the prisoners. No, I'm not leaving. You're too big a fish to let get away. Hagbard Celine slapped me on the shoulder. You've got courage and initiative. You trust only the evidence of your eyes and believe what no man tells you.
I was right about you. Come on down to my stateroom. Celine pressed a button and the elevator door and the gate outside both slid back. We stepped out into a carpeted room with a lovely black woman sitting at one end under an elaborate emblem concocted of anchors, seashells, Viking figureheads, lions, ropes, octopi, lightning bolts, and, occupying the central position, a golden apple.
Celine led me down a long corridor, saying, "You'll find this submarine is opulently furnished. I have no need to live in monklike surroundings like those masochists who become naval officers. No Spartan simplicity for me. This is more like an ocean liner or a grand European hotel of the. Edwardian era. Wait till you see my suite. You'll like your stateroom, too. To please myself, I built this thing on the grand scale. No finicky naval architects or parsimonious accountants in my business. I believe you've got to spend money to make money and spend the money you make to enjoy money.
Besides, I have to live in the damned thing. No bullshit authority titles for me. I'm Freeman Hagbard Celine, but the. If I don't like it, I'll punch you in the nose. If there were more bloody noses, there'd be fewer wars. I'm in smuggling mostly. With a spot of piracy, just to keep ourselves on our toes. But that only against the Illuminati and their communist dupes. We aim to prove that no state has the right to regulate commerce in any way. Nor can it, when it is up against free men.
My crew are all volunteers. We have among us liberated sailors who were indentured to the navies of America, Russia, and China. Excellent fellows. The governments of the world will never catch us, because free men are always cleverer than slaves, and any man who works for a government is a slave. I've got to warn you, I come from a long line of labor agitators and Reds.
You'll never convert me to a right-wing position. Celine reared back as if I had waved offal under his nose. Didn't you understand that much? We've got nothing to do with right-wing, left-wing or any other half-assed political category. You're talking like a medieval serf, asking the first agnostic whether he worships God or the Devil. We're outside the system's categories.
You'll never get the hang of our game if you keep thinking in flat-earth imagery of right and left, good and evil,. If you need a group label for us, we're political non-Euclideans. But even that's not. Sink me, nobody of this tub agrees with anybody else about anything, except maybe what the fellow with the horns told the old man in the clouds: Non serviam.
He threw open an oaken door, and I entered a living room furnished in handsome teak and rosewood Scandinavian, upholstered in bright solid colors. He hadn't been exaggerating about the scale: you could have parked a Greyhound bus in the middle of the carpet and the room would still seem uncluttered. Above an orange couch hung a huge oil painting in an elaborate gilt frame easily a foot deep on all sides.
The painting was essentially a cartoon. It showed a man in robes with long,. Above his head a fiery hand traced flaming letters with its index finger on the rock. The words it wrote were:. As I started to laugh, I felt, through the soles of my feet, an enormous engine beginning to throb.
Celine's crowd take Dorn, according to plan, and, Harry Coin is, ah, no longer with us. Everything is GO. The following. And then I sat back and thought about Harry Coin. Once I imagined I could make it with him: there was something so repulsive, so cruel, so wild and psychopathic there. The same as every other man. Hurt me. Do something. Nothing, nothing, nothing.
The closest miss was that strange banker, Drake, from Boston. What a scene. I'd gotten into his. Old white-haired buzzard, between sixty and seventy: typical of our wealthier members, I thought. I started the usual spiel, communism, sexism, smut, and all the time his eyes were bright and hard as a snake's. It finally hit me that he didn't believe a word of it, so I started to cut it off, and then he pulled out his checkbook and wrote and held it up so I could see it. Twenty thousand dollars. I didn't know what to say, and I started something about how all true Americans would appreciate this great gesture and so on, and he said, "Rubbish.
You're not rich but you're famous. I want to add you to my collection. He took me into a private suite off of his business office and he touched one button, the lights dimmed, another button, down came a movie screen, a third button, and I was watching a pornographic movie. He didn't approach me, just watched, and I tried to get excited, wondering if the actress was really making it or just faking it, and then a second film began, four of them this time in permutations and combinations, he led me to the couch, every time I opened my eyes I could still see the film over his shoulder, and it was the same, the same, as soon as he got his thing inside me, nothing, nothing, nothing, I kept looking at the actors trying to feel something, and then, as he came, be whispered in my ear, "Heute.
Later, I tried to find out about him, but nobody above me in the Order would say a word, and those below me didn't know anything. But I finally found out: he was very big in the Syndicate, maybe the top. And that's how I figured out that the old rumor was true, the Syndicate was run by the Order, too, just like everything else. But that cold sinister old man never said another word about it. I kept waiting while we dressed, when he gave me the check, when he escorted me to the door, and even his expression seemed to deny that he had said it or knew what it meant.
When he opened the door for me, he put an arm on. And yet he had read me to the core, knew I was faking, and guessed that terror alone could unlock my reflexes: maybe he even knew that I had already tried physical sadism and it hadn't worked. Out on Wall Street in the crowd, I saw a man with a gas mask- they were still rare that year- and I felt the whole world was moving faster than I could understand and that the Order wasn't telling me nearly.
Brother Beghard, who is actually a politician in Chicago under his "real" name, once explained the Law of Fives to me in relation to the pyramid-of-power principle. Intellectually, I understand: it's the only way we can work, each group a separate vector so that the most any infiltrator can learn is a small part of the design. Emotionally, though, it does get frightening at times: do the Five at the top really have the whole picture? I don't know, and I don't see how they can predict a man like Drake or. I joined the Order seeking power, and now I am more a tool, an object, than ever before.
If a man like Drake ever thought that, he might tear the whole show apart. Unless the Five really do have the powers they claim; but I'm not gullible enough to believe that bull. Some of it's hypnotism, and some is plain old stage magic, but none of it is really supernatural. Nobody has sold me on a fairy tale since my uncle got into me when I was twelve with his routine about stopping the bleeding. If my parents had only told me the truth about menstruation in. Enough of that. There was work to be done.
I hit the buzzer on my desk and my secretary, Mr. Mortimer, came in. As I'd guessed, it was past nine o'clock and he'd been out there in the reception area straightening up and worrying about my mood for God knows how long, while I was daydreaming. I studied my memo pad, while he waited apprehensively. Finally, I noticed him and said, "Be seated. Tell bun to cream them; I won't be satisfied unless a dozen of the perverts are put in the hospital, and I don't care how many of our people get arrested doing it The bail fund is available, if they need it.
If Zev has any objections, I'll talk to him, but otherwise you handle it. Then make up the standard number-two press release, where I deny any knowledge of illegal activities-by that chapter and promise we will investigate and expel anybody guilty of mob action— have that ready for release this afternoon. Then get me the latest sales figures on Telemachus Sneezed. Guess who it was? She's frigid for one thing. She joined women's liberation at the same age George joined Weatherman, and they both split after a few months.
And you'd be surprised how similar their mothers were, or how the successful careers of their older brothers annoy them—". Hagbard Celine knocked an ash off his long Italian cigar. He felt the cold wetness on his thighs before he realized he was urinating in his pants; a shell exploded nearby and he sobbed. Don't let them kill me. I'm afraid to die. Please, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.
Mary Lou and Simon are eating breakfast in bed, still naked as Adam and Eve. Mary Lou spread jam on toast and asked, "No, seriously: which part was hallucination and which part was real? Simon sipped at his coffee. Handing us a line. The Purple Sage cursed and waxed sorely pissed and cried out in a loud voice: A pox upon the accursed Illuminati of Bavaria; may their seed take no root. May their hands tremble, their eyes dim and their spines curl up, yea, verily, like unto the backs of snails; and may the vaginal orifices of their women be clogged with Brillo pads.
For they have sinned against God and Nature; they have made of life a prison; and they have stolen the green from the grass and the blue from the sky. And so saying, and grimacing and groaning, the Purple Sage left the world of men and women and retired to the desert in despair and heavy grumpiness. But the High Chapperal laughed, and said to the Erisian faithful: Our brother torments himself with no cause, for even the malign Illuminati are unconscious pawns of the Divine Plane of Our Lady.
October 23, , was the thirty-fifth anniversary of the murder of Arthur Flegenheimer alias "The Dutchman," alias "Dutch Schultz" , but this dreary lot has no intention of commemorating that occasion. Smiling Jim Treponema, has noted a bearded and therefore suspicious young man among the delegates. Such types were not likely to be KCUF members and might even be dope fiends. Smiling Jim told the Andy Frain ushers to keep a watchful eye on the young man so no "funny business" could occur, and then went to the podium to begin his talk on "Sex Education: Communist Trojan Horse in Our Schools.
The bearded young man, who happened to be Simon Moon, adviser to Teenset magazine on II-luminati affairs and instructor in sexual yoga to numerous black young ladies, observed that he was being observed which made him think of Heisenberg and settled back in his chair to doodle pentagons on his note pad.
Three rows ahead, a crew-cut middle-aged man, who looked like a suburban Connecticut doctor, also settled back comfortably, awaiting his opportunity: the funny business that he and Simon had in mind would be, he hoped, very funny indeed. There is a road going due east from Dayton, Ohio, toward New Lebanon and Brookville, and on a small farm off that road lives an excellent man named James V.
Riley, who is a sergeant on the Dayton police force. Although he grieves the death of his wife two years back in '67 and worries about his son, who seems to be in some shady business involving frequent travel between New York City and Cuernavaca, the sergeant is basically a cheerful man; but on June 25, , he was a bit out of sorts and generally not up to snuff because of his arthritis and the seemingly endless series of pointless and peculiar questions being asked by the reporter from New York.
It didn't make sense- who would want to publish a book about John Dillinger at this late date? And why would such a book deal with Dillinger's dental history? I don't hold with some of these people who've written books about him and said the long sentence he got back then is what made him bitter and turned him bad. He got the long sentence because he was so snotty to the judge. Not a sign of repentence or remorse, just wisecracks and a know-it-all grin spread all over his face.
A bad apple from the start. And always hellbent-for-leather. In a hurry to get God knows where. Sometimes folks used to joke that there were two of him, he'd go through town so fast. Rushing to his own funeral. Young punks like that never get long enough sentences, if you want my opinion. Might slow them down a bit".
The reporter— what was his name again? James Mallison, hadn't he said? But what I want to know was where was Dillinger's missing tooth— on the right side or the left side of his face? The reporter dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief— very nervous he seemed to be. Now, just try to picture John Dillinger as you remember him, with that know-it-all grin as you called it Can you get the picture into focus?
Which side is the missing tooth on? Mallison's faced changed, as if in desperation which he was trying to conceal. Are you a Mason? Bejesus, no—I've been a Catholic all my life, I'll have you know. I mean, to talk to? The reporter plunged on, "All the books on Dillinger say that the intended victim of that first robbery, the grocer B. Morgan, summoned help by giving the Masonic signal of distress. Do you know what that is? The way they keep their secrets, by the saints, I'm sure even the FBI couldn't find out. Mallison — or had he said Joseph Mallison? A strange book he claimed to be writing about Dillinger's teeth and the bloody atheistic Freemasons.
There was more to this than met the eye, obviously. Miskatonic University, in Arkham, Massachusetts, is not a well-known campus by any means, and the few scholarly visitors who come there are an odd lot, drawn usually by the strange collection of occult books given to the Miskatonic Library by the late Dr. Henry Armitage. Miss Doris Horus, the librarian, had never seen quite such a strange visitor though, as this Professor J. Mallison who claimed to come from Dayton, Ohio, but spoke with an unmistakable New York accent.
Considering his fur-tiveness, she found it no surprise that he spent the whole day June 26, pouring over the rare copy of Dr. John Dee's translation of the Necronomicon of Abdul Alhazred. Doris didn't like the Necronomicon, although she considered herself an emancipated and free- thinking young woman. There was something sinister, or to be downright honest about it, perverted about that book and not in a nice, exciting way, but in a sick and frightening way.
All those strange illustrations, always with five-sided borders just like the Pentagon in Washington, but with those people inside doing all those freaky sex acts with those other creatures who weren't people at all. It was frankly Doris's opinion that old Abdul Alhazred had been smoking some pretty bad grass when he dreamed up those things. Or maybe it was something stronger than grass: she remembered one sentence from the text: "Onlie those who have eaten a certain alkaloid herb, whose name it were wise not to disclose to the unilluminated, maye in the fleshe see a Shoggothe. She was glad when J.
Mallison- finally left and she could return the Necronomicon to its position on the closed shelves. She remembered the brief biography of crazy old Abdul Alhazred that Dr. Armitage had written and also given to the library: "Spent seven years in the desert and claimed to have visited Irem, the city forbidden in the Koran, which Alhazred asserted was of pre-human origin. Who was around to build cities before there were people? Those Shoggothes? And that insidious line: "According to contemporary historians, Alhazred's death was both tragic and bizarre, since it was asserted that he was eaten alive by an invisible monster in the middle of the market-place.
Armitage had been such a nice old man, Doris remembered, even if his talk about cabalistic numbers and Masonic symbols was a little peculiar at times; why would he collect such icky books by creepy people? On the other hand, they didn't know either about certain legitimate business expenses which he had not cared to claim, including more than. He was holding an amulet in his hand. It means that opposites are equal. You'd have to be a Chinaman to think otherwise. Saul ignored the comment.
It's from Greek mythology. There was a banquet on Olympus, and Eris wasn't invited, because she was the Goddess of Discord and always made trouble. So, to get even, she made more trouble: she created a beautiful golden apple and wrote on it Kallisti. That means 'for the prettiest one' in Greek. It's what the K stands for, obviously. Then she rolled it into the banquet hall, and, naturally, all the goddesses there immediately claimed it, each one saying that she was 'the prettiest one. He chose Aphrodite, and as a reward she gave him an opportunity to kidnap Helen, which led to the Trojan War.
Or where he's disappeared to? I just wish I. The next memo, however, stopped them cold:. The chart hangs at the top of the page, the rest of which is empty space— as if the editors originally intended to publish an article explaining it, but decided or were persuaded to suppress all but the diagram itself. But he sounded uncertain. The Elders of Zion section is just a parody of Nazi ideology.
If there really was a Jewish conspiracy to run the world, my rabbi would have let me in on it by now. I contribute enough to the schule. Adam Weishaupt is supposed to have originated the Bavarian Illuminati after studying Sabbah, according to the third memo, so this part.
That ties in with Weishaupt's growing hemp and Washington's having a big hemp crop at Mount Vernon. Look at how the whole design revolves around the pentagon. Everything else sort of grows out of it". You think the Defense Department is the international hub of the Illuminati conspiracy? The Indian Agent at the Menominee Reservation in Wisconsin knows this: from the time Billie Freschette returned there until her death in , she received mysterious monthly checks from Switzerland.
He thinks he knows the explanation; despite all stories to the contrary, Billie did help to betray Dillinger and this is the payoff. He is convinced of this. He is also quite wrong. Now, is this an accident?
Let me quote you Lenin's own words Banana-Nose Maldonado evidently had his own brand of sentimentality or superstition, and in he ordered his son, a priest, to say one hundred masses for the salvation of the Dutchman's soul. Even years afterward, he would defend the Dutchman in conversation: "He was OK, Dutch was, if you didn't cross him. If you did, forget it; you were finished.
He was almost a Siciliano about that. Otherwise, he was a good businessman, and the first one with a real CPA mind in the whole. If he hadn't gotten that crazy-head idea about gunning down Tom Dewey, he'd still be a big man. I told him myself. The boys won't take the risk; Lucky and the Butcher want to cowboy you right now. He dies' A. You know what he said? He said: 'You tell Al that Dillinger was a lone wolf. I have my own pack. I'll light another candle for him at church Sunday. Rebecca Goodman closes her book wearily and stares into space, thinking about Babylon.
Her eyes focus suddenly on the statue Saul had bought her for her last birthday: the mermaid of Copenhagen. How many Danes, she wonders, know that this is one form of representation of the Babylonian sex goddess Ishtar? In Central Park, Perri the squirrel is beginning to hunt for the day's food. A French poodle, held on a leash by a mink-coated lady, barks at him, and he runs three times around a tree.
George Dorn looks at the face of a corpse: it is his own face. She said later she would never teach sex in school again. He is thinking, whimsically, that hardly anybody realizes that the shape of the room. Above, beyond Joe Malik's window, Saul Goodman gave up on the line of thought which had led him to surmise that the Illuminati were a front for the International Psychoanalytical Society, conspiring to drive everyone paranoid, and turned back to the desk and the memos.
Barney Muldoon came in from the bedroom, carrying a strange amulet, and asked, "What do you make of this? They sat alone at a table pulled off to the corner; the Friendly Stranger was the same as ever, except that a new group, the American Medical Association consisting, naturally, of four kids from Germany , had replaced H. Lovecraft in the.
Nobody knew that the AMA was going to become the world's most popular rock group within a year, but Simon already thought they were superheavy. Padre Pederastia was, as on the night Simon met Miss Mao, very serious and hardly camping at all. A chao is a single unit of chaos, they figure. Do I have to remind you of that? Yes, we have an alliance, as long as it profits both parties.
John— Mr. Sullivan himself authorized this. Later on, quite often, the leader, a most fetching scoundrel and madman named Celine, sometimes tells them it really stands for Little Deluded Dupes. That's the pans asinorum, or an early pans asinorum, in Celine's System. He judges them by how they react to that. Well, almost all. They don't invoke You-Know-Who under any circumstances.
They rely on Discordia They're part of the Erisian Liberation Front, then? He wondered how people like the President of the U. Or did they take enough tranquilizers to produce a similar effect? Celine is on the activist side, like us. Some of his capers make Morituri or God's Lightning look like Trappists by comparison.
No, ELF will never get on Mr. Celine's trip. Look at his symbol again. Are you sure he's on our side? The American Medical Association came to some kind of erotic or musical climax and the priest's answer was drowned out. Uncertainty is the name of the game. On the origin of the pyramid-and-eye symbol, test your credulity on the following yarn from Flying Saucers in the Bible by Virginia Brasington Saucerian Books, , page. None of the designs they created or which were submitted to them, were suitable.
Fairly late at night, after working on the project all day, Jefferson walked out into the cool night air of the garden to clear his mind. In a few minutes he rushed back into the room, crying, jubilantly: "I have it! I have it! They were the plans showing the Great Seal as we know it today. Asked how he got the plans, Jefferson told a strange story. A man approached him wearing a black cloak that practically covered him, face and all, and told him that he the stranger knew they were trying to devise a Seal, and that he had a design which was appropriate and meaningful.
After the excitement died down, the three went into the garden to find the stranger, but he was gone. Thus, neither these Founding Fathers, nor anybody else, ever knew who really designed the Great Seal of the United States! I, No. The emblem is a tentative design for the Party's campaign button. One wag suggests that everyone cut out the circle from the back of a dollar bill and send the wholly dollar to Governor Leary so he can wallpaper his office with them.
Then paste the emblem on your front door to signify your membership in the party. Both translations are wrong, of course. Alastrar un navio. Alborotar la calle. Ni te alborotes, ni te enfotes. Alcanzar de alguno. Alcanza quien no cansa. Alcanzar en dias. Cada uno alega en derecho de su dedo. Alegrar las luces. Aligerarse la ropa. Aligerar un caballo. Alindar el ganado.
Alinearse los soldados. Alotar las anclas. Alterar la moneda. Alzar un entredicho. Alzar figura. Alzar el dedo. He gave up the ghost. To ballast a ship nau. To disturb the neighborhood. Neither believe nor disbelieve blindly. To prevail upon any one. To be of weak understanding. Even a fool, if rich, can get what he wants. He who does not tire achieves. To get the better of another in argu- ment. My means are not equal to that. To descry. To live long. This medicine does not reach the root of the evil.
A person whose aspirations are never satisfied. A Scotch cousinship ; a very distant relationship. Every one looks out for his own interest. To snuff the candles. To show gladness in one's eyes. To dress very lightly. To make a horse move lightly and freely. To drive cattle to pasture. To fall into line mil. To stow the anchors nau.
To let, a furnished room, with or without board. I hired a hackney-coach to go to the fashionable drive. To debase the coinage. To raise an injunction. To assume an air of importance. To raise the eyes or hands. To raise the forefinger in assever- ation or affirmation. Alzar la cresta. Alzar velas. Alzarse con algo. Alzar el rastrojo. Alzar las eras. Alzar el precio. Alzar el destierro. Alzar alguna cosa.
Alzarse con el santo, y con la li- mosna. Alzar la obra. Alzarse el a2;ua. Alzar cabeza. Alzar los naipes. Quien bien ama, tarde olvida. Amagar y no dar. Cuando Dios amanece, para todos aparece. Por mucho madrugar, no amanece mas temprano. Arreboles al oriente agua amane- ciente. Amaestrar un caballo. Quien feo ama, hermoso le parece. Quien ama el peligro, perece en el. To show one's self proud or arrogant.
To be elated with pride. To set the sails nau. To defraud. To run the first furrows with the plough. The rise and fall of public securities. To finish the harvesting of grain. To raise the price. To proclaim a king. To pardon an exile. To proclaim loudly ; to make public. He who is not hampered by affairs can act freely. To be petulant. To lay away anything. To abscond with money entrusted to one's care.
To stop work. To stop raining. To recover from a calamity or dis- ease. To cut the cards. To win all the stakes in gambling. He who loves truly is slow to forget. To threaten, but not strike. Is this the dawn of day for you! The sun shines on the just and on the unjust. God give you a happy morrow! I was in Madrid at dawn, and in To- ledo at twilight.
It dawns none the sooner because we rise early. A red sky in the morning indicates rain. To break in a horse. Love is blind. He who loves danger will perish by it. La verdad amarga. Amoldar las agujas. Amontonarse el juicio. Amusgar las orejas. El tiempo anda. El carro no anda. Andar estaciones. Andar al uso. Andar en coplas. Andar en palmas. Andar de rama en rama. Andar de una camada. No se ande V. No andar en dengues. Camino de Santiago, tanto anda el cojo como el sano.
Andar como el cangrejo. Constant repetition wearies. The truth may be bitter to the evil doer. To polish needles. To lose one's presence of mind. To keep one in possession of prop- erty. To listen ; to prick up one's ears. Time flies. The watch or the mill goes. Planets or machines move.
The sea runs mountains high. The wheels are clogged ; the busi- ness does not prosper. To pray to God. To pray at certain shrines in order to obtain indulgences. To mind one's own business. To return to one's evil habits. To conform to the times. To be very well known. To be universally applauded. To beat about the bush ; not to come to the point. To play fast and loose. To dwell upon unimportant details. To play upon words. To be the town talk. To be sad, or merry. It is of no consequence ; I do not care. Like seeks like.
Do not stand upon compliments. Not to mind trifles. Good pilgrims accommodate their pace, and arrive together. To go backward, like a crab. Quien anda entre la miel, algo se le pega. Andando el tiempo. Andar con dilatorias. Andar de barrio. Andar divertido. Andar con las manos en la cinta. Andar de Zeca en Meca. Andar de bardanza.
Andar la ciudad. Andar arrastrando. Andar tentando. Andar aperreado. Andar de nones. You cannot touch pitch without being defiled. To escape Scylla and fall into Charybdis. In the course of time. To waste another's time with false promises. To be on the same story of rooms.
To reverse the order of nature. To wear a simple dress. To be about to say or do a thing. To be engaged in love affairs. Not to have anything to do. To rove about ; from Dan to Beer- sheba. To be a vagrant. To stroll and wander about. To go here and there ; to be unset- tled. To wander, gad, or roam. To scour the city. To lead a nomadic life. To lead a vagabond life. To live in misery. To beg. To be very short of anything. To be utterly destitute of funds. To be in increasingly narrow circum- stances.
To grope where we cannot see ; to make efforts or trials. To grope in the dark ; to fumble. To hide ; to skulk ; to abscond. To skulk ; to lurk in hiding-places. To be harassed, or fatigued. To be idle. To follow idle pursuits ; to loiter. To waste time in useless pursuits. Andar manga por hombro. Andar por su cabal. Anda mal. Andar sin sombra. Andar balando por alguna cosa. Quien mal anda, mal acaba. Andar en malos pasos.
Andarse tocando tabletas. Andar como ardilla. Andar en balanza. Andar en cuerpo. Andar con mosca.
"avivarse" English translation
Andar de puntas. No andar en contemplaciones. Andar en quintillas. Andar en puntas. Andar al pescuezo. Andar en dimes y diretes. To play truant. To be very careless in domestic af- fairs. To live selfishly. If I am comfortable, what care I for ridicule! To be overheated. He is a bad walker. To walk timidly ; to creep. To crave ; to desire anxiously. To long anxiously for something. At best ; at most. At worst. He who lives ill, dies ill. He who lives with wolves will learn to howl ; evil communications cor- rupt good manners. To be implicated in an affair.
To be in a bad way, as to conduct. To be disappointed. To be as active as a squirrel. To be crestfallen. To be in danger of losing property or place. To go out without an outside gar- ment. To fly into a passion. To be on bad terms ; to quarrel. To have recourse to harsh measures. To be at enmity with some one. To seek dispute or quarrel.
To quarrel and fight. To seek a quarrel, mutually. To take another by the throat. To dispute and quarrel. To contend ; to dispute. To come to blows. To come to fisticuffs. Andar en cuentos. Andar el diablo suelto. Andar el diablo en cantillana. Andar en opiniones. Andar en gerigonzas. Andar con un ten con ten. Andar de ganancia. Andar con pies de plomo. Andar con reserva. Aquel va mas sano, que anda por el llano. Entre bobos anda el juego. La rueda de la Fortuna anda mas lista que una rueda de molino. Andar listo. Andar en pretensiones.
To come to loggerheads. To fight with poniards or knives. He who takes the wrong road must make his journey twice over. The devil is abroad ; i. Disturbances or dangers are rife. To go to the dogs. To throw a doubt upon a person's credit. To go away in enmity. To quibble ; to cavil ; to evade. To play roughly.
Be off with you! Be off! Expression of approval, or great dis- pleasure. Away with you! To act cautiously and justly. To pursue a thing successfully. To do things quickly. To proceed with the greatest cir- cumspection. To be in haste ; to be much occu- pied. To proceed cautiously. A man will work hard to secure a comfortable living. Of two ways choose the safest. This affair has come into the hands of experts.
The wheel of Fortune goes faster than a mill-wheel. The mill gains by going, not by standing still. To be active or diligent. Be quick! To seek office importunately. If nothing prevents, I will do it. Andar tras alguno. Andar por el pleito. Andar un negocio. Andar prudente. Andar sin recelo. Andar con el tiempo. Andar con cuidado. Andar alguna cosa muy tirada. Andar con zapatos de fieltro. Andar con la cara descubierta. Andar cazando. Quien no pueda andar, que corra.
Andarse en flores. To strive for a thing. To go in pursuit of anything. To make essays or trials. To follow a person ; to go in pursuit. To have charge of a lawsuit. To undertake the charge of a case or business. To undertake a business without adequate means. To act prudently. To go to work frugally. To have no fear. To conform one's self to the times ; to be a time server.
To be careful. To be very busy. To be well provided for. To be difficult to find ; to be sold dear. To try for a sinecure. Noisy mirth and jollity. To pursue things successfully. To proceed with caution and silence. To take things easily. To act openly. To act honestly. To go hunting. To hunt ; to seek. To go at a short trot. To find one's self on the horns of the bull ; to be in imminent danger.
To have vertigo ; to become dizzy. To command difficult things to one who cannot do easy ones. To decline entering into a debate. To give one's self up to pleasure. Let us not use subterfuges or eva- sions. La verdad siempre anda sobre la mentira como el aceite sobre el agua. Andar en mangas de camisa. A mas andar. Andar en buena vela. Andar todo. Andar con pies de mar. El poco andar del barco.
Anhelar honores. Al anochecer. Anochecer, y no amanecer. Anudarse la voz. Apagar la voz. Apagar el hambre. To be always ready to follow the opinion of another ; to be like a cork on the water. It is difficult to get exactly what we want. To go to meals at other people's houses without invitation. To be in one's shirt-sleeves. A fine state of things, to be sure! The fox and her young must be badly off when she goes hunting for crickets. False friends try to outwit each other. At full speed nau. To be under full sail nau. To put up the helm nau. To be under the hatches nau. To have one's sea legs nau.
The slow way of the ship nau. To aspire to honors. At nightfall. To be in a place at nightfall ; to be benighted somewhere. To disappear furtively. To desire or judge thoughtlessly. To keep silence. Inability to speak, consequent upon excitement. To add fire to flame ; to foment difficulties or quarrels. To slack lime. To deaden the sound of an instru- ment.
See a Problem?
When the quarrel is over, the instiga- tor appears. To satisfy hunger. Una y otra gota aj agan la sed. Apalabrarse de sed. A los bobos se les aparece la madre de Dios. Apartar el grano de la paja. Apasionarse de. Apear el rio. Aparear un tiro de caballos de coche. Apelar el enfermo. Apellidar libertad. Castillo apercibido, no es combatido. Aplicar el oido. Aporrearse en la jaula. Apostar carreras. Lo que se aprende en la cuna, siem- pre dura.
Apretar con uno. Apretar la mano. Apretar la cuerda. Apretar hasta que salte la cuerda. To quench the thirst. Continual dropi ing wears away stone. To suffer great thirst. To amass money ; to be excessively rich. A dvuice may have good luck. To cancel a claim or debt. Death only can cure that. To distinguish between what is im- portant and what is not so. To dote upon. To give an absurd answer. To hopple a horse, or mule. To match a set of horses. To escape death from sickness. To proclaim liberty. Forewarned is forearmed. Men love the treason, but not the traitor.
To listen. To engage in fruitless toils. To run races. To contend ; to defy. To learn by heart. On a fool's beard all learn to shave. What is learned in childhood is never forgotten. To attack a person. To blame or punish severely. To draw the reins tighter of law or discipline.
To urge a person till he loses pa- tience. To strangle a person. To take to one's heels. Apretar un caballo. Apretar el paso. Apretar el argumento. Mucho aprieta este testigo. Apunta el dia. Apuntar una herramienta. Apuntar la ropa. Apuntar en el teatro. Apuntar los vegetales. Apuntar y no dar. Apuntar una cosa. Apuntar de memoria. He apurado todos los recursos, y no he podido conseguirlo.
Apurar una noticia. Apurar la copa del dolor hasta las heces. Verse apurado. Apurar la paciencia. To spur a horse. To start off running.
To hasten. To run away. To press vigorously by argument. To press with urgent reasons. This witness is significant. To exert one's utmost efforts. To profit by the occasion. To catch the ball on the rebound. Like produces like. What is the use of a candle without a wick? The day breaks. His beard, or moustache, begins to grow. To point a tool. To write shorthand. To sew pieces together to be washed. To prompt at the theatre.
To grow up. To promise readily, but not perform. To touch slightly on anything. To aim at a mark. To sit down without money, to gam- ble. I have exhausted every resource, and could not succeed. The pupil studies diligently. To know something thoroughly. To drain the cup of misery to the dregs. To be in difficulties. I was embarrassed.
To tease, perplex, or make one angry. To exhaust the patience. To be grieved ; to worry. Arar con el ancla. Are mi buey por lo holgado, y el tuyo por lo alabado. Arbolar con caida. Tal buque arbola tantos palos. La mar arde. Puede arder en un candil. La provincia se arde en disturbios. Arderse en pleitos. Arder en deseo de hacer una cosa. Arder de impaciencia. Quien no se arriesga, no pasa la mar. Armar un caramillo. Armar un lazo. Armar una casa. Armar una cama. Armar los remos. Armar caballero.
Armarse de paciencia. Those who meddle with other peo- ] lc's affairs do not have an easy life. To make great exertions. To gather riches. To rejoice in the misfortunes of others. A man's enemies are generally of his own trade. One who flatters another with intent to injure ; a hypocrite. To drag the anchor nau. Experienced labor is cheapest in the end.
Rent must be paid, crops or no crops. Land is much improved by fallowing. An industrious person does not need to beg. To give the masts a rake nau. To rear said of horses. Such a vessel carries so many masts. The sea sparkles. It would burn in a lamp applied to generous wine or brilliant people. To be entangled in lawsuits. To burn with desire to do a thing. To burn with impatience. Fuming with anger. To be pricked by one's conscience.
Nothing venture, nothing have.