Gratwick Von Sarll's Journal
You are viewing the most recent 11 entries.
22nd July 2003
11th June 2003
4th June 2003
Wormholes To Glory!!
By Quetzalcoatl!!! :
I was taking a morning constitutional strolling around Derby City Centre casually booting peons and dispensing urine soakings to scabrous tramps, when I suddenly remembered the arcane and highly top secret meeting we senior Von Sarll's conducted in the Occult Wing of the Mansion Beautiful this weekend past...
Eleutherius had been rounded up, clad in Sheffield irons and sent back to that place in disgrace. Seizing a bottle of pink gin, I sounded the ancient Horn Of Sarll and called The Inner Circle Family Beautiful members into the dungeons of the Occult Wing, leaving the furious mime stylings of Perricent Handbag and The Rear Guard Action to entertain the likes of so called 'Fab' Gary Sarll and other more peonic family members.
Lighting a pyre to Chnoubis, I took a roll call of the Inner Circle:
"I am Gratwick Von Sarll and I call this meeting to order" I bellowed, "Brothers Von Sarll, take thy this golden blade, scar thine left palm and offer a drink of blood to the ancients!"
In turn, Count Otto, Freddy Sarll, King Tula Great Sun Buddha Von Sarll, Baron Argonauticus Pallas Von Sarll, Lord Utnapishtim Von Sarll and myself incanted the hidden chakras, offered our blood to the Old Ones and drew on our Hawk masks...
"We who are pure of heart and sound of purpose demand the presence of the Serpent-Gods! We who have known in the past of the secrets of the stars demand the future knowledge that may bless us with immortality! Yaweh the serpent that curls around the prophets, speak to us now in the forked tongue of Niburu!"
And then, By Crivens!!! Count Otto damn near shat his pants as a magnesium flare, thunderclap and sulferous odour entered the chamber.
"VON SARLLSSSSSS!!!! VON SARLLLLLSSSSSS!" Hissed a voice as old as time, "SSSSSPEAK NOWWW ORRR FOREVVVVERRRR LAYYYETTHHHH SSSSILLENT!!!"
Sweating, pulsing, I steadied my nerves with a slug of pink gin.... all around, the old ones were pouring through dimensional portals into the chamber.... Jesus as serpent-god! Moses clutching the serpent from the wilderness! Osiris! Jonah consumed by the whale! A whirl of infernal images: Man, wormhole, goddess. Jason, the Argo, Athena. Adam, the Serpent, Eve. Jesus, the wormhole, Mary Magdalene....
"We wish to travel through time and space once more! We seek access to the wormholes of the ancients! The 12-angled pyramid of Chnoubis, the holes in space that surround this earth!! The prophecies of the Gnostic Von Sarlls! IMMORTALITY AND THE GATES OF HEAVEN!!!"
A disembodied voice thundered back as trumpets sounded and time ripped open:
"No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will realize that I am he."
Frantic, lusting for power, I screamed into the void:
"I have been pouring over the forgotten scrawlings of Major John Jenkins-Von Sarll - his studies of the ancient Mayan Von Sarlls concluded that in 2012 a ladder will emerge from the center of our Milky Way galaxy from which the god Nine Wind (who may be Quetzalcoatl) will descend on a `serpent-rope' from a sun disk that resembles the symbol for Nibiru. Surely this serpent-rope is a wormhole!!!! A WORMHOLE TO NIBURU!!! THE LOST PLANET, HEAVEN'S HOST, GUARDIAN OF ALL KNOWLEDGE!!!! IT IS IMPERATIVE THAT WE VON SARLL'S KEEP THIS EVENT IN THE FAMILY AND SAFE FROM PEONIC INTERFERANCE!!!!"
And then a familiar voice rang through our plummeting dischord:
"Darling! Do calm down! It's only a wormhole!"
By Crivens! It was The Creator himself! And he sounded uncannily like my very close personal friend Michael Winner!
"You know dear, you really must remain calm. Of course the Von Sarll's shall take control of this long prophesisied stargate. You were created at the dawn of time to keep peons in check and retain knowledge for the world elite, you know....
I recall having brunch with your forefather Luciferius Von Sarll in Dante's Grill on Niburu back before The Fall, you know, dear. "Luceiferius" I said - I always called him Luceiferius, you know dears, that's what his name was, anyway, I said "Luciferius!!! Do calm down. I'm sure you won't mind being cast down to Earth to keep peons in check. Now, do be firm and don't shirk your duties!"
....anyway, dears, if you need a wormhole, just shout, but remember not to let Eleutherius through or the whole Meta-Universe will go to bloody blazes. Bye, dears!"
And with that, we slumped to the floor, eyes agog.
Truely, we had seen the Ages.
Current Mood: all powerful
2nd June 2003
Rot And Chunder!!!
Damn that decrepit old goat Eleutherius!! :
Yes, he attended the Sarll Family Summer Fete, and yes, he wore the straightjacket and mask. How the crivens he managed to overpower his guards, bite off the face of a minor Sarll family member and then proceed to saunter round the fete causing mayhem under the guise of Vizier Algernon 'Algy' Von Sarll, I'll never know....
Then, the crusty old relic slipped laudenam into the punch before tottering into Derby city centre, mustard gassing the local Aldi's killing 33 people and then hijacking a crowded city bus and crashing it through the gates of my estate..... he then ushered everybody off the bus at gunpoint and shot them in full view of the children. Thank Horus the dusty coot fell asleep before he could do any more harm - I was forced to bribe the local Derbyshire constabulary with an extremely hefty amount in order to keep Eleutherius' latest disgrace out of the papers and to keep our good Von Sarll name untarnished.
Eleutherius was then promptly exiled to That Place under duress of a hefty dose of Fotherington's Tonic. By Set, that man is a dashed liability!
The rest of the Fete went swimmingly, but I must confess I was a little tipsy and cannot remember too much.... now remind me, what exactly did young Barry get up to? I must say, he's getting more the very image of myself by the day!
Current Mood: pleased
22nd May 2003
The Legacy Beautiful
Larval worm horrors of the fractal 5th dimension! :
What fresh lunacy is this? The peonic witterings of mothersarll and lilmissmandee are proof indeed that the once proud Von Sarll bloodline is dangerously polluted by peons and jackanapes. I blame those vomiting, mewling crones that keep marrying into the Family Beautiful.
One only has to look at the continuing decline of young Barry to see that he is perhaps not the Chosen One that I had hoped would make this family strong once more.
Ogden!! Meet me in my occult chambers in the west wing. We have an exercise in gene manipulation to undertake....
Current Mood: devious
20th May 2003
19th May 2003
Gratwick: The Sarll You Can Trust
Flim flam, fizz and cancerous fandango! :
By Set, I've half a mind to summon the dark forces of Mu and reign down a terrible living hell upon my errant family members! I knew that getting myself one of these accursed LiveJournal flibberjibbet's would bring all those creaky Sarll antiques from out of whatever death-cheating occult temple they've been hiding out in. What with hiding the Godfrey's Cordial from Eleutherius and summoning the ancients to help stop Elegberus from stealing my human body, I'm completely exhausted and have precious little time left to continue my expert grooming of young Barry. Is it any wonder that he continues to strut around London calling himself 'Alex' and grossly neglecting his peon-booting duties?
Ogden!!! Fetch me my morning constitutional.... yes, yes, bring the whole bottle man! Yes, cognac, that'll do.
Now, where was I? Ah, of course. You'll be wanting a rambling, drunken anecdote, won't you?
The year was 1970. I, Gratwick Von Sarll, was the gayest, most handsome blade in Cambridge university. I recall how my daring use of nail varnish and full makeup combined with my outrageous penchant for satin pirate gear and futuristic jumpsuits and codpieces was the talk of the campus. "Is that a boy or a girl??" was the cry of the drool-mouthed, furrow-browed peons in the street. With an icy glare and a cutting remark, I bestrode Cambridge, the very image of a young Ganymede. Alack that Zeus himself did not see fit to swoop down and carry me off to Olympus!
Years ahead of my time, and surrounded by hordes of unwashed, limp, plague-ravaged hippies, I took to performing musical revues with my band. Gratwick Von Sarll and the Flouncing Droogie Stardust Explosion From Uranus, that's what we so triumphantly called ourselves. Soon, our glorious and pioneering use of electronic keyboards (of course in those days, only terribly wealthy non-peon Old Money types such as myself could afford electronic keyboards, a time which I feel we would be better returning to when I am subjected to the ghastly cretinous mewlings that pass for music these days. Honestly, I feel a pain in my very soul when Barry subjects me to his latest musical fancies) and intoxicating rock'n'roll rhythms was swiftly the outrageous new thing. Hordes of sweating, inbred peons flocked to our shows.... we looked set to announce our triumphant vainglorious arrival on the early 70s music scene when a couple of young upstarts came along and stole our thunder!! David Bowie, Marc Bolan, Roxy Music..... hideous, stinking ex-hippy ragamuffins!!
"By the claws of Scorpio!!!!" I thundered, "What in crivens is this impunity??? Am I to believe that these inferior clubhanded members of the proleteriat are being allowed to get away with their watery, incompetent replications of my music??? I've half a mind to chop my hair off and invent punk rock!!!"
Incensed, I formed a Status Quo tribute band, summoned the horrors of the Nth dimension and by 1980 had succeded in hexing my accursed imitator's to such an extent that Bolan was now fat, washed up and dead, Bowie was devoid of ideas and style, and Roxy Music were finished. Naturally, I, Gratwick Von Sarll had had the last laugh.
And yet, it is to my eternal damnation that I find young Barry listening to such muck. Truely, Benzaiten would weep.
Ogden!!! Prepare a carriage and load my Uzi. I wish to conduct a driveby peon cull in Derby city centre!
Current Mood: nauseated
16th May 2003
Oh for f###'s sake. :
That doddery old fool eleutherius has escaped from the Castle Beautiful and is currently wreaking havoc in Derby city centre by driving his Model 'T' Ford at 2mph and having his footman Jaggers clear a passage for him with a blunderbuss... Damn, blast and rot!! He must have got into the Godfrey's Cordial again.
Ogden!! Curl my eyelashes and fetch the butterfly net! We have an errant codger to round up.
Current Mood: aggravated
Portrait Of A Barry As A Young Boy
Ogden!!! Pour me a large pink gin and don't skimp on the olives!! :
Ah, excellent, there's a fellow.
Now, I expect you'll all be wanting to hear one of Uncle Gratwick's trademark rambling anecdotes, won't you?
The year was 1983. I, Gratwick Von Sarll, had just taken a young Barry Sarll under my wing with a solemn vow to mould him in my own image. I recall with much fondness romping around my sprawling Derbyshire estate with Barry, blooding him on his first peon hunt.
"They're VERMIN!" I explained to him. "You see all those lowly peasants, slack of jaw, puzzled of brow and smelling of cabbage?"
"Yes" piped up the young lad, "Yes Uncle Gratwick, I have seen these lowly people loitering around the council estates, public houses and shopping precincts of Derby. They speak with such a vulgar tongue and incomprehensible brogue. I fear that most of them cannot read, let aside enjoy the works of Byron! Father says that it's not their fault that they're like that, and that I should not mock them with my highly precocious intellect"
"NONSENSE!!! CHUNDER AND ROT!!!" I bellowed, causing the boy's hair to stand on end, "You must learn to HATE and DESPISE peons with every ounce of your body! Now, load your rifle and follow me into the thicket. I have lured some unwashed proles onto my land with the promise of cheap Hoffmeister beer. They're following my manservant Ogden - who is dressed as the Hoffmeister Bear - as we speak.... prepare to aim and FIRE!!! Welcome to your first peon hunt, young Barry! Spare no quarter!"
And with my triumphant encouragement, I saw young Barry grow before my eyes into a true Von Sarll. With a glint of steel in his eyes that belonged more to a Turkish assassin than a boy of 5 years old, Barry cocked his trigger, took aim and fired!! Success!!! The crowd of peons following Ogden's Hoffmeister Bear like pathetic rats all scattered upon hearing the gunshot.... as the dust settled, I spied one limp, bloody lower-class body lying motionless on the heath. Gesturing silently to Barry, we approached the oik with caution and ventured a poke at the body with a stick.... success!!! The tracksuit wearing underling was dead! Barry had bagged his first peon!!! Ecstatic, I urged him to dip his fingers in the prole's blood and smear it across his own face. Barry was blooded!
With beaming smiles, I carried Barry back to the Mansion Beautiful to celebrate with his first bottle of cider. And I, Gratwick Von Sarll, am proud to say that from that moment on, Barry never looked back.
Ah, Ogden!! I say, Ogden!!! All that top notch storytelling has left me parched..... OGDEN YOU INSUFFERABLE FOOL!!! Fetch the gin!
Current Mood: excited
Damn That Infernal Boy!!
Great steaming horrors of Thanatos!!! :
Am I to believe that that meddling boy has gone and altered his journal?? By crivens, the whole sorry affair has moved me to start my own journal in a vainglorious effort to set the record straight!
Imagine my abject fury when the horrors of this week unfolded before my very own eyes. I was sat in my favourite seat in my favourite Derbyshire internet resteraunt, regaling my very close personal friend michael_winner with tales of black magic and invocations of the Old Ones, when I chose to point my computer terminus toward Livejournal.
"Michael", I said - I always call him Michael. That or 'C#nt'. Anyway, I said, "Michael! Do you know of my favourite nephew, barrysarll? He's quite the image of a young Gratwick, you know. Of course, I took him under my wing at a young age and taught him everything he knows... ah, it's just loading up, here we go!"
Then, imagine my creeping disgust as I read the scamp's latest entry!
"BY THOTH!!!" I exploded with the focused fury of Zeus with a headache, "BY SET!!! WHAT IS THIS IMPUNITY??? Am I, Gratwick Von Sarll, to believe that young Barry has gone off the rails?? And why in crivens is he calling himself 'Alex'?? Barry is a perfectly cromulent name for a boy his age. I'm aghast!"
I then proceeded to hurl Michael Winner's lunch hither and thither to the four corners of the resteraunt before storming out in a black rage to repair to my gentleman's club for a pink gin.
Current Mood: aggravated
...A gigigantic elephant...
...I looked him straight in the eye...
...I can't really remember what happened next because I'm afraid I was terribly, terribly drunk.