Was perfect weather today to finally put the winter boots away and put on my fine shoes! And go by the locale park and Singing Trees to enjoy the vibes!
The whole of The Singing Ringing Tree is on YouTube. One day it will go away. I would be a bad person if I did not put up a link now and encourage all of you to watch it. I promise that you will either thank me or spend decades trying to recover.
Artist: Well it will sound like the mournful cries of damned souls. The horrific call of a lovecraftian abomination. Walkers on the moors will hear it and sh*t themselves. All will listen to it's tune and despair...And you could always put a twee little picnic bench next to it.
Town: Sold!
(The Singing Ringing Tree by Mike Tonkin and Anna Liu. Burnley, Lancashire)
Fae? Or any other creature? They’re vindictive. Vindictive to a fault. And loyal. They don’t give away their love easily. Yeah, they can feel fond of things. Even like them. But love? Familial or otherwise? That’s sacred to them. More so to Dick, who already had to suffer losing his family once. So this? Yeah, he’s not having it.
But oh, if you think Joker’s just gonna get killed off then you’re so, so wrong. There are so many other ways, better ways, to make a human suffer. Worse things than death. Worse things than any kind of torture humans could come up with.
Dick makes Joker pay. Every second Jason had to spend with that madman is amplified tenfold, stretched into eternity. Dick traps him in a nightmare he will never wake up from. By the time he’s done with Joker, there won’t be an ounce of that monster left inside that sick little brain. There won’t be anything left of the joker.
By the time Dick allows the creatures to eat Joker alive, the man’s been begging for death for what translate to several centuries to the human mind.
Despite the beauty of the glistening droplets on the wet grasses and wildflowers, there is a limit to how much saturation of the tail feathers a fluffy bird can tolerate while drinking in the wonders of Nature… or should he say, bathing in them…
So, after exchanging greetings with a passing frog who evidently enjoyed the sodden conditions a great deal more than he did, Algy flew back up into the pine tree and made himself comfortable on a cushion of soft, aromatic pine needles, tucking his tail well into the heart of the tree and away from the rain.
There were now two robins singing somewhere nearby, indulging in a delightfully harmonious competition in the dense Scotch mist, and Algy could think of no better way of passing the time in such dreich conditions than by defying the weather with a song. The elegant counterpoint of his wee feathered friends reminded him of another more famous duet, which, as it happened to mention a pine tree, seemed particularly apposite, so without further ado Algy opened his beak as widely as he could and began to sing…
[In case the video link doesn't work, Algy thought you might like to know that he is singing The Trail of The Lonesone Pine, as made famous by one of the most celebrated comedy teams of all time, Laurel and Hardy.]