Diary Of an Aesthete.

Photo 1012
Notes

Posted 5 days ago

Zoom

Video 1394
Notes

Posted 1 week ago

The awesomely insane Heaven and Hell nightclubs of 1890s Paris.

In modern times, you can find a stray cabaret or goth club in most modern metropolitan areas. But back in the late 19th century, your options were limited, albeit merrily deranged. Paris of the 1890s had several supernatural nightlife options, each of them with marvelously outlandish gimmicks.

At this gothic nightspot, visitors pondered their own mortality as they drank on coffins and were served libations (named after diseases) by monks and funeral attendees. Recalls Morrow:

“Large, heavy, wooden coffins, resting on biers, were ranged about the room in an order suggesting the recent happening of a frightful catastrophe. The walls were decorated with skulls and bones, skeletons in grotesque attitudes, battle-pictures, and guillotines in action. Death, carnage, assassination were the dominant note, set in black hangings and illuminated with mottoes on death Bishop said that he would be pleased with a lowly bock. Mr. Thompkins chose cherries a l’eau-de-vie, and I, une menthe. One microbe of Asiatic cholera from the last corpse, one leg of a lively cancer, and one sample of our consumption germ!” moaned the creature toward a black hole at the farther end of the room. Some women among the visitors tittered, others shuddered, and Mr. Thompkins broke out in a cold sweat on his brow, while a curious accompaniment of anger shone in his eyes. Our sleepy pallbearer soon loomed through the darkness with our deadly microbes, and waked the echoes in the “Drink, Macchabees!” he wailed: “drink these noxious potions, which contain thvilest and deadliest poisons!”

But Cabaret du Néant wasn’t the only creepy nightspot in Paris. Later in Bohemian Paris of To-day, Morrow described his evening at the Cabaret de l’Enfer (“The Cabaret of the Inferno”), a Satanically themed nightclub in Montmartre that abutted another cabaret. And according to the author’s account, it was perhaps the trippiest hangout of La Belle Époque:

“”Enter and be damned, the Evil One awaits you!” growled a chorus of rough voices as we hesitated before the scene confronting us. Near us was suspended a caldron over a fire, and hopping within it were half a dozen devil musicians, male and female, playing a selection from “Faust” on stringed instruments, while red imps stood by, prodding with red-hot irons those who lagged in their performance. Crevices in the walls of this room ran with streams of molten gold and silver, and here and there were caverns lit up by smouldering fires from which thick smoke issued, and vapors emitting the odors of a volcano. Flames would suddenly burst from clefts in the rocks, and thunder rolled through the caverns. Red imps were everywhere, darting about noiselessly, some carrying beverages for the thirsty lost souls, others stirring the fires or turning somersaults. Everything was in a high state of motion.”

And right next door to the Cabaret de l’Enfer was Cabaret du Ciel (“The Cabaret of the Sky”), a divinely themed bar where Dante and Father Time greeted visitors and comely ladies dressed as angels pranced around teasing patrons. As Morrow recalled, the evening’s entertainment was presided over by St. Peter himself, who anointed the boozy crowd:

“Flitting about the room were many more angels, all in white robes and with sandals on their feet, and all wearing gauzy wings swaying from their shoulder-blades and brass halos above their yellow wigs. These were the waiters, the garcons of heaven, ready to take orders for drinks. One of these, with the face of a heavy villain in a melodrama and a beard a week old, roared unmelodiously, “The greetings of heaven to thee, brothers! Eternal bliss and happiness are for thee. Mayst thou never swerve from its golden paths! Breathe thou its sacred purity and renovating exaltation. Prepare to meet thy great Creator and don’t forget the garcon!”[Later], without the slightest warning, the head of St. Peter, whiskers and all, appeared in a hole in the sky, and presently all of him emerged, even to his ponderous keys clanging at his girdle. He gazed solemnly down upon the crowd at the tables and thoughtfully scratched his left wing. From behind a dark cloud he brought forth a vessel of white crockery (which was not a wash-bowl) containing (ostensibly) holy water. After several mysterious signs and passes with his bony hands he generously sprinkled the sinners below with a brush dipped in the water; and then, with a parting blessing, he slowly faded into mist.”

more at http://io9.com/5910963/the-awesomely-insane-heaven-and-hell-nightclubs-of-1800s-paris

via gothicheart-gothicsoul View comments

Video 24078
Notes

Posted 1 week ago

cucoo:

jasjuliet:

dohmenator:

thebluefloof:

ALL. OF. THESE. THINGS.

YOU. ARE. ALL. AMAZING.

NEVER. LIMIT. YOURSELF.

This is all of the true. I need, like, a daily reminder of how true this is.

Pumps me up enough for my second year. Everyone, read this! Be inspired! Never give up! Practice and make work!

legit

(Source: hyenabonz)

via atohs View comments

Photo 640
Notes

Posted 1 week ago

via zodiaccity View comments

Photo 966
Notes

Posted 1 week ago

via zodiaccity View comments

Photo 190
Notes

Posted 1 week ago

spectatusaesthetica:

Untitled (by masha_svyatogor)

via no-chicken-chuggies View comments

Text 27693
Notes

Posted 1 week ago

When I was 16, I had a fake I.D. and decided to go to a gay bar by myself because some friends bailed on me. While there, an older gentleman bought me a drink. He wasn’t a creeper, and he definitely wasn’t unattractive. I accepted the drink and began talking to him. No big deal. As the hour progressed, I felt myself feeling strange. I mentioned that I felt like I had a headache, and this guy helped guide me out of the bar. As we were walking down the street, the thought of, ‘Oh god, he’s drugged me, I’m going to die’ came to my head. I tried to get away, but I was so drugged up that I could barely walk, let alone speak. It also didn’t help that I had really large ‘goth’ platform shoes because I was going through a phase. Anyway, this guy brought me to his suv and began undressing me. As a final act of defiance, I hit him over the head with my platform shoe. He then punched me, and I remember thinking, ‘Why don’t they ever give workshops to gay guys about being victims of rape too?’ While I was as careful as possible, I never saw the guy slip something in the drink. I even watched the bar tender make the drink. Anyway, I lied there completely paralyzed while this pervert was lubing up. I locked eyes with his for a moment, and that’s when it happened. A very large and angry drag queen opened the door of the vehicle and beat the shit out of my attempted rapist. She and her other drag friends helped dress and care for me while the police arrived. I was saved by a group of guardian drag queens. They were basically the modern day ‘angels from heaven.’

starsinthegutter:

celestial-shade:

yolo-tier:

welcome-to-the-sinners-ball:

imgayitsok:

God bless drag queens.

bless those great souls that saved that kid.

all the awards to those lovely gals.

(Source: b-random)

via starsinthegutter View comments

Video

Posted 2 weeks ago

Brilliant

View comments

Video 6
Notes

Posted 2 weeks ago

I adore her

View comments

Text 35
Notes

Posted 3 weeks ago

Sometimes the gay community pisses me off, or maybe it is just gay guys. Why do you have to be so stuck up and superficial. What’s wrong with being heavily tattooed? Is it really that bad I am missing something others have? No one is 100% perfect. Your superficialness is the real disability/problem. Not me. So fuck you. You make me ashamed to call myself gay sometimes

ahumancuriosity:

End rant.

I love tatoos, and piercings

via starsinthegutter View comments

Chat 794
Notes

Posted 3 weeks ago

Encounters at a Coffee Shop

mawlgolth: Um, hello...
Eldergoth: /sigh Why?
mawlgoth: Why? I'm sorry?
Eldergoth: You're forgiven, go away. I thought you people didn't get coffee outside of Barnes and Nobles anyway.
mawlgolth: You people? I- I just wanted to say I really like your shirt and ask who it is.
Batcave: Grr?
Eldergoth: ... Oh? It's Siouxsie Sioux. She was in Siouxsie & The Banshees, not that you would care, but this shirt is from her side project The Creatures.
mawlgolth: Oh, I thought maybe she was a silent film star, she has that "Vamp" look. Are the Banshees anything like The Cure or Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds? I feel so overwhelmed trying to find good bands; could you recommend an album if you don't mind?
Eldergoth: /jaw drops
Romantic: Good evening, lovelies. Are you ok, Elder? You look ... I don't know, what is that creepy look on your face? It reminds me of the Joker... are you homicidal?
Eldergoth: I think I'm happy...
Romantic: Oh dear, stay calm. Did someone buy you a drink? Did you leave your coffee unattended? Is there a metallic taste in your mouth?
Eldergoth: YOU are NOT a mallgoth!
notamawlgolth: I'm not?
Eldergoth: You are a babybat! And a smart one! Come to me!
Babybat: Ah!
Romantic: NO! Come with me! I have so much to teach you about poetry, gothic literature, art!
Eldergoth: FUCK OFF, SHE'S MINE! I have to teach you all about proto-punk, glam, post punk, British punk, horror punk, Dark Wave, Death Rock-
Batcave: Hiss!
Victorian: ::bursts in:: NO! ::out of breath:: Mine! Corsets, petticoats, harpsichords... TAFFETA!
Romantic: Lord Byron, Matthew "Monk" Lewis, Jim Morrison,The Mysteries of Udolpho, Keats, Charles Baudelaire, Botticelli, uh-uh Lestat?
Cyber: ::through the window:: Gas masks, latex, Imperative Reaction, glow in the dark, VNV Nation, goggles, Combichrist, Wumpscut-
Eldergoth: BACK! Back you animals! I saw her first!
Rivethead: No fair! I was in the bathroom! Oh shit, I CAN'T THINK UNDER PRESSURE! Just give me the kid or I'll make all of you watch the Broken videos, Italian horror films and banned Skinny Puppy videos- Clockwork Orange style!
Batcave: SHUT THE FUCK UP, EVERYONE!
Look, kid, getting into the scene should be fun, not intimidating. They just want to make you in their own image, but all you have to do is be yourself. When your young, that can seem hard- but it only means doing what *you* want, and taking the time to figure out what that means for you. So, if that means you don't fit neatly into a category; that's ok- you're eclectic and unique, and if you do fit nicely into a specific group- you'll love it. Just don't take it too seriously, try to make friends, and keep exploring.
Babybat: Wow, thank you so much, Silent Bob. <3
Batcave: Rawr?
Victorian: But, but, but, the velvet!
Eldergoth: Shut your fucking face, Carl! I think we just got Goth-served.