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 From the 30 July 2009 update:  Both the tee and the perfume will be live at their respective sites until July 9, 2009. Also new to the LE's this month STINKY A cure for sweaty bits and sticky wilting. Stinky is a summer refresher 'foom for people that don't dig run-of-the-mill "clean" scents: newly-washed skin with a dusting of rice milk, white honey, and baby powder. Ars Amatoria has two new perfumes APEROTOS EROS Strong as death, and cruel as the grave, Clothed with cloud and tempest's blackening breath, Known of death's dread self, whom none outbrave, Strong as death, Love, brow-bound with anguish for a wreath, Fierce with pain, a tyrant-hearted slave, Burns above a world that groans beneath. Hath not pity power on thee to save, Love? hath power no pity? Nought he saith, Answering: blind he walks as wind or wave, Strong as death. Unloving love: benzoin, Indian musk, massoia bark, myrrh, ambrette seed, galbanum, bergamot, and fir. WHOSO LIST TO HUNT Whoso list to hunt, I know where is an hind! But as for me, alas, I may no more; The vain travail hath wearied me so sore, I am of them that furthest come behind. Yet may I by no means my wearied mind Draw from the deer, but as she fleeth afore Fainting I follow; I leave off therefore, Since in a net I seek to hold the wind. Who list her hunt, I put him out of doubt, As well as I, may spend his time in vain. And graven with diamonds in letters plain, There is written her fair neck round about, "Noli me tangere, for Caesar's I am, And wild for to hold, though I seem tame." Sensual brown musk, rich amber, English rose, oak bark, and moss. And a whole lot is going on at the Mad Tea Party ALICE'S EVIDENCE There was a general clapping of hands at this: it was the first really clever thing the King had said that day. 'That proves his guilt,' said the Queen. 'It proves nothing of the sort!' said Alice. 'Why, you don't even know what they're about!' 'Read them,' said the King. The White Rabbit put on his spectacles. 'Where shall I begin, please your Majesty?' he asked. 'Begin at the beginning,' the King said gravely, 'and go on till you come to the end: then stop.' These were the verses the White Rabbit read:- They told me you had been to her, And mentioned me to him: She gave me a good character, But said I could not swim. He sent them word I had not gone (We know it to be true): If she should push the matter on, What would become of you? I gave her one, they gave him two, You gave us three or more; They all returned from him to you, Though they were mine before. If I or she should chance to be Involved in this affair, He trusts to you to set them free, Exactly as we were. My notion was that you had been (Before she had this fit) An obstacle that came between Him, and ourselves, and it, Don't let him know she liked them best, For this must ever be A secret, kept from all the rest, Between yourself and me. 'That's the most important piece of evidence we've heard yet,' said the King, rubbing his hands; 'so now let the jury-' 'If any one of them can explain it,' said Alice, (she had grown so large in the last few minutes that she wasn't a bit afraid of interrupting him,) 'I'll give him sixpence. I don't believe there's an atom of meaning in it.' The jury all wrote down on their slates, 'She doesn't believe there's an atom of meaning in it,' but none of them attempted to explain the paper. 'If there's no meaning in it,' said the King, 'that saves a world of trouble, you know, as we needn't try to find any ' Containing nary a neutron of meaning: rum-quince-cassis with prune and a bit of black ginger. ALL IN THE GOLDEN AFTERNOON All in the golden afternoon Full leisurely we glide; For both our oars, with little skill, By little hands are plied While little hands make vain pretence Our wanderings to guide Ah, cruel Three! In such an hour Beneath such dreamy weather, To beg a tale of breath too weak To stir the tiniest feather! Yet what can one poor voice avail Against three tongues together? Imperious Prima flashes forth Her edict to 'begin it'- In gentler tone Secunda hopes 'There will be nonsense in it!' - While Tertia interrupts the tale Not more than once a minute. Anon, to sudden silence won, In fancy they pursue The dream-child moving through a land Of wonders wild and new, In friendly chat with bird or beast - And half believe it true. And ever, as the story drained The wells of fancy dry, And faintly strove that weary one To put the subject by, 'The rest next time -It is next time!' The happy voices cry. Thus grew the tale of Wonderland Thus slowly, one by one, Its quaint events were hammered out - and now the tale is done, And home we steer, a merry crew, Beneath the setting sun. Alice! a childish story take, And with a gentle hand Lay it where Childhood's dreams are twined In Memory's mystic band, Like pilgrim's wither'd wreath of flowers Plucked in far-off land A bizarre blend of pineapple, tangerine, tobacco, apricot, and seltzer coated with hazy amber and heady sun-baked flowers. TWINKLE, TWINKLE LITTLE BAT Twinkle, twinkle, little bat! How I wonder what you're at! Up above the world you fly, Like a teatray in the sky. Twinkle, twinkle little bat! How I wonder what you're at! A sparkly, batty little scent: green tea, melon, mint, lime rind, and champagne grape with lemon balm, mullein, and toadflax. Two new subsections have been added to MTP - ++ THE GARDEN OF LIVE FLOWERS This time she came upon a large flower-bed, with a border of daisies, and a willow-tree growing in the middle. IMPERIOUS TIGER-LILY `O Tiger-lily,' said Alice, addressing herself to one that was waving gracefully about in the wind, `I wish you could talk!' `We can talk,' said the Tiger-lily: `when there's anybody worth talking to." Alice was so astonished that she could not speak for a minute: it quite seemed to take her breath away. At length, as the Tiger-lily only went on waving about, she spoke again, in a timid voice -- almost in a whisper. `And can all the flowers talk?' `As well as you can,' said the Tiger-lily. `And a great deal louder.' (Tiger-lily, ginger root, neroli, purple fruits, and frankincense.) SNOOTY ROSE `It isn't manners for us to begin, you know,' said the Rose, `and I really was wondering when you'd speak! Said I to myself, "Her face has got some sense in it, thought it's not a clever one!" Still, you're the right colour, and that goes a long way.' `I don't care about the colour,' the Tiger-lily remarked. `If only her petals curled up a little more, she'd be all right.' (Red rose, oud, plum, bergamot, and red sandalwood.) Alice didn't like being criticised, so she began asking questions. `Aren't you sometimes frightened at being planted out here, with nobody to take care of you?' `There's the tree in the middle,' said the Rose: `what else is it good for?' `But what could it do, if any danger came?' Alice asked. HIGH-STRUNG DAISIES `It says "Bough-wough!" cried a Daisy: `that's why its branches are called boughs!' `Didn't you know that?' cried another Daisy, and here they all began shouting together, till the air seemed quite full of little shrill voices. `Silence, every one of you!' cried the Tiger-lily, waving itself passionately from side to side, and trembling with excitement. `They know I can't get at them!' it panted, bending its quivering head towards Alice, `or they wouldn't dare to do it!' `Never mind!' Alice said in a soothing tone, and stooping down to the daisies, who were just beginning again, she whispered, `If you don't hold your tongues, I'll pick you!' There was silence in a moment, and several of the pink daisies turned white. `That's right!' said the Tiger-lily. `The daisies are worst of all. When one speaks, they all begin together, and it's enough to make one wither to hear the way they go on!' (Daisy, pink carnation, pink pepper, and sugar.) `How is it you can all talk so nicely?' Alice said, hoping to get it into a better temper by a compliment. `I've been in many gardens before, but none of the flowers could talk.' `Put your hand down, and feel the ground,' said the Tiger-lily. `Then you'll know why. Alice did so. `It's very hard,' she said, `but I don't see what that has to do with it.' `In most gardens,' the Tiger-lily said, `they make the beds too soft -- so that the flowers are always asleep.' This sounded a very good reason, and Alice was quite pleased to know it. `I never thought of that before!' she said. `It's my opinion that you never think at all,' the Rose said in a rather severe tone. BRUSQUE VIOLET `I never saw anybody that looked stupider,' a Violet said, so suddenly, that Alice quite jumped; for it hadn't spoken before. `Hold your tongue!' cried the Tiger-lily. `As if you ever saw anybody! You keep your head under the leaves, and snore away there, till you know no more what's going on in the world, that if you were a bud!' (Violet petal, violet leaf, osmanthus, orris, mint, and opoponax.) `Are there any more people in the garden besides me?' Alice said, not choosing to notice the Rose's last remark. `There's one other flower in the garden that can move about like you,' said the Rose. `I wonder how you do it -- ' (`You're always wondering,' said the Tiger-lily), `but she's more bushy than you are.' `Is she like me?' Alice asked eagerly, for the thought crossed her mind, `There's another little girl in the garden, somewhere!' `Well, she has the same awkward shape as you,' the Rose said, `but she's redder -- and her petals are shorter, I think.' `Her petals are done up close, almost like a dahlia,' the Tiger-lily interrupted: `not tumbled about anyhow, like yours.' `But that's not your fault,' the Rose added kindly: `you're beginning to fade, you know -- and then one can't help one's petals getting a little untidy.' And ++MORAL HYMNODY AND NONSENSE Lewis Carroll used the Looking Glasses and Rabbit Holes of his fantasy world to mock many contemporary conventions and demonstrate, through nonsense, the strangeness of the human condition. The madness of Wonderland illustrated the absurdities he perceived in the strict, orderly world he lived in. In the first perfumes of this subseries, our scents parallel the poetic parodies: Lewis Carroll versus Isaac Watts. HOW DOTH THE LITTLE CROCODILE How doth the little crocodile Improve his shining tail, And pour the waters of the Nile On every golden scale! How cheerfully he seems to grin, How neatly spreads his claws, And welcomes little fishes in With gently smiling jaws! Chocolate peppermint, mint-soaked vanilla, pistachio, oakmoss, and green cedar. Mocks AGAINST IDLENESS AND MISCHIEF How doth the little busy bee Improve each shining hour And gather honey all the day From every opening flower! How skilfully she builds her cell! How neat she spreads the wax! And labours hard to store it well With the sweet food she makes. In works of labour or of skill, I would be busy too; For Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do. In books, or work, or healthful play, Let my first years be passed, That I may give for every day Some good account at last. Pollen-dusted honey, diligent tonka, steadfast chamomile, and goodly hyssop. And 'TIS THE VOICE OF THE LOBSTER 'Tis the voice of the Lobster: I heard him declare 'You have baked me too brown, I must sugar my hair.' As a duck with its eyelids, so he with his nose Trims his belt and his buttons, and turns out his toes. When the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark, And will talk in contemptuous tones of the shark; But, when the tide rises and sharks are around, His voice has a timid and tremulous sound. I passed by his garden and marked, with one eye, How the Owl and the Panther were sharing a pie: The Panther took pie-crust, and gravy, and meat, While the Owl had the dish as its share of the treat. When the pie was all finished, the Owl, as a boon, Was kindly permitted to pocket the spoon: While the Panther received knife and fork with a growl, And concluded the banquet by- A woody, musky-weird base glooping over with blackberry preserves, a twist of mandarin, strawberry juice, pulverized watermelon, and a handful of smushed gardenia petals. Thumbs its nose at THE SLUGGARD 'Tis the voice of the sluggard; I heard him complain, "You have waked me too soon, I must slumber again." As the door on its hinges, so he on his bed, Turns his sides and his shoulders and his heavy head. "A little more sleep, and a little more slumber;" Thus he wastes half his days, and his hours without number, And when he gets up, he sits folding his hands, Or walks about sauntering, or trifling he stands. I pass'd by his garden, and saw the wild brier, The thorn and the thistle grow broader and higher; The clothes that hang on him are turning to rags; And his money still wastes till he starves or he begs. I made him a visit, still hoping to find That he took better care for improving his mind: He told me his dreams, talked of eating and drinking; But scarce reads his Bible, and never loves thinking. Said I then to my heart, "Here's a lesson for me," This man's but a picture of what I might be: But thanks to my friends for their care in my breeding, Who taught me betimes to love working and reading. Pious frankincense, angelic gardenia, unsoiled pear, and staunch ho wood conflict with prickly, overgrown thistle, idle labdanum, and lethargic lavender. Tiger Lily (Mad Tea Party) is also being discontinued due to the pressure of the current economic stress on our associates. Sincerest apologies for the suddenness of all these discontinuation! - we had no notice at all of two of the primary components of TL going dry, and just received the email with the bad news this morning. All current orders will be filled, and it will be coming down with the Lunacy on July 9th. Imperious Tiger Lily was intended to be a complimentary scent - the Tiger Lily in her element, ordering the other garden inhabitants about and berating Alice - she was meant to be the queen of the Garden of Live Flowers subsection, so to speak. Looks like her inception was fortunate, as her original incarnation has to come down. Or it was a jinx. o.O I wish there was more we could do to stem the hemorrhage. Component issues have been plaguing BPTP, causing bottlenecks with the Warrior Queens. We're doing everything in our power to get all the WQ's out as quickly as possible. Thank you so much for your patience! But enough of the gloomy gussitude We have so many amazing, exciting projects coming up this season. The next set of DD Summer Blockbuster scents will be featured at our upcoming trunk show at Dark Delicacies, and a limited run of the first scents in our California series (these are exclusive to C15) will be available at Convergence 15. We're still busting our asses to get the next act of CD out as quickly as possible - finalizing some additional artwork now, cleaning up the copy, and securing final sources for the components. Some really fucking great stuff will be debuting at Comic Con on behalf of the CBLDF (details forthcoming!), and we are working with a few brilliant illustrators, authors, musicians, and comic gods on scents that will be debuting late this summer. A new duets series is due at BPTP, and new baths, soaps, and atmospheric schpritzers are coming soon. From the 2 July 2009 update: Due to circumstances beyond out control, the following scents have been discontinued: Erich Zahn Eris Madrid Masabakes Marianne Severin Succubus Tannin'iver Thank you so much for understanding! From the 6 June 2009 update: Smoky Moon is live at BPAL and BPTP! SMOKY MOON 2009: TRISTESSES DE LA LUNE The Smoke-Veiled Moon of July brought a poem of Baudelaire’s to my mind: Ce soir, la lune rêve avec plus de paresse; Ainsi qu'une beauté, sur de nombreux coussins, Qui d'une main distraite et légère caresse Avant de s'endormir le contour de ses seins, Sur le dos satiné des molles avalanches, Mourante, elle se livre aux longues pâmoisons, Et promène ses yeux sur les visions blanches Qui montent dans l'azur comme des floraisons. Quand parfois sur ce globe, en sa langueur oisive, Elle laisse filer une larme furtive, Un poète pieux, ennemi du sommeil, Dans le creux de sa main prend cette larme pâle, Aux reflets irisés comme un fragment d'opale, Et la met dans son coeur loin des yeux du soleil. - - - Tonight the moon dreams with more indolence, Like a lovely woman on a bed of cushions Who fondles with a light and listless hand The contour of her breasts before falling asleep; On the satiny back of the billowing clouds, Languishing, she lets herself fall into long swoons And casts her eyes over the white phantoms That rise in the azure like blossoming flowers. When, in her lazy listlessness, She sometimes sheds a furtive tear upon this globe, A pious poet, enemy of sleep, In the hollow of his hand catches this pale tear, With the iridescent reflections of opal, And hides it in his heart afar from the sun's eyes. (English translation by William Aggeler, 1954) Soft sandalwood, nicotiana, and velvety orris drifting over lustrous pale musks, stephanotis, elemi, and cyclamen. The tee --  Artwork for this lunacy is the Woman in the Moon by Aubrey Beardsley. The scent and the tee will be live until 10 June 2009. This summer, we are celebrating the Aztec Feast For the Greatly Revered Ones! THE FEAST FOR THE GREATLY REVERED ONES Huey Tecuilhuitl, the Great Festival of Lords, occurs on the 8th month of the 260-day Mexica sacred calendar of Tonalpualli. This festival honors Chicomecoatl, also known as Xilonen, the Goddess of Nourishment and Plenty, Seven Snakes. She represents the female aspect of corn, and she is the counterpart of Centeotl, -- the female sheath to his phallic cob. The celebration of the Feast assured the return of the rains and a good corn harvest. Cacao mixed with ground maize, agave wine, and octli, mixed with herbs and spices native to central Mexico. A tee celebrating the Feast For the Greatly Revered Ones is also live!  Artwork by Jennifer Williamson! The scent and the tee will be live until 8 August 2009. Also new to the LEs LABORES SOLIS Nothing there is beyond hope, nothing that can be sworn impossible, nothing wonderful, since Zeus, father of the Olympians, made night from mid-day, hiding the light of the shining Sun, and sore fear came upon men. On July 22, we will be experiencing a total solar eclipse. This is the Labores Solis: the sun’s rays expressed through frankincense, amber, heliotrope, saffron, and chamomile, crossed with Luna’s Artemisias, manifesting in darkness. NONAE CAPROTINA The Nones of the Wild Fig, held on the 7th of July and celebrated only by women, is a festival of fertility honoring Juno Caprotina. Both goats and figs are sacred to Juno in this aspect, goats being notoriously randy, and figs being prolifically seedy. The milky sap of the fig tree also links to the concept of fertility, and to Juno as Mother Goddess. The scent is of goat’s milk, ripe fig, and a hint of sweet myrrh. Please note: no goats were milked in the process of creating this scent. It is an accord, and this scent is vegan. Nonae Caprotina and Labores Solis will be live until 8 August 2009. We are also pleased to announce the first scents in our Nile series ++ ITERU SEASON OF THE INUNDATION Hail to thee, O Nile! Who manifests thyself over this land, and comes to give life to Egypt! Come and prosper! Come and prosper! O Nile, come and prosper! O you who make men to live through his flocks and his flocks through his orchards! Come and prosper, come, O Nile, come and prosper! Akhet: the advent of the rising of the Nile floods -- the heart of the fertility and prosperity of Egypt. As Sirius climbs the horizon, Hapi begins to collect the tears of Isis, causing the waters of the Nile to rise. As the flood ebbed, the waters left a rich, black silt that was integral to the fecundity of the land. Sweet, black silt mingled with holy myrrh, melilot, hyssop, spikenard, balsam, cedar, and a hint of melting snow from the Abyssinian hills. THE FESTIVAL OF ANUKET Anuket is the Embracer, a Goddess of Passion and of the waters of the Nile that caress the land and bring forth fruitfulness. She is the Nourisher of the Fields, the Giver of Life, and She Who Shoots Forth. A goddess of the hunt, archers, movement, and speed, she has the head of a gazelle, and sometimes wears a headdress of ostrich feathers. She is a protector of children at birth, and nursed many of the great pharaohs of Egypt. Shimmering offerings of gold scattered through life-giving, fertile waters. We will be following the pathways of the Nile this year, through the Season of the Emergence and the Season of the Harvest. Season of the Inundation and the festival of Anuket will be live until 8 August 2009. And lastly, our Summer Garden Miniseries! ++ SUMMER GARDEN MINISERIES LAWN GNOME Benevolent groundskeepers, these carefree plaster and stone companions lighten the hearts of passers by. Red currant, molasses, vanilla cream, moss, and patchouli. PLASTIC PINK FLAMINGO Vigilant day-glo guardians of lawn and patio, stalwart protectors of the home. Pink sugar-crusted marshmallow, dandelion, and sap. SPINNING MULTICOLORED METALLIC PINWHEEL Polycarbonate and metallic film monuments to domestic whimsy, whirling merrily in the summer breeze. Raspberry, lime, blueberry, tangerine, lemon, juniper, and white grape. We live near a cemetery, and on one of the streets that butts up against the graveyard -- the homes share a wall with the cemetery -- there is an abundance of stuff on many, many people’s lawns. Gnome motropolises, massive flocks of flamingos, elaborate witch ball dotted trees, plastic butterflies and dragonflies, plump pastel cherubs, and whipping, brightly colored flags. Its amazing. Its not just one house it’s at least a quarter of the homes over the span of about a mile and a half. I can’t help but think something interesting is permeating these homes because of their proximity to this particular City of the Silent. Driving down that street all the time was part of the inspiration for the Summer Garden series! And truth be told this series was also inspired, in part, by the many hours I spend staring at my own yard from my home office’s window! I have a demented fondness for gnomes, flamingos (with seasonal outfits), pinwheels, tin birds, stone toads, clay mushrooms, and spinning plastic sunflowers. Garden kitsch: I friggin’ love it all. And that’s it for now! We’re currently working on getting Act VI of the Carnaval ready to go (wewt!) as well as new additions to the GC (at long last!). Please stay tuned. From the 8 May 2009 update: Oh, man. I’m so tired, all I can really do is grunt. Teething: Fun for the Whole Family. Without further grunting, we present STRAWBERRY MOON 2009 Strawberries that in gardens grow Are plump and juicy fine, But sweeter far as wise men know Spring from the woodland vine. No need for bowl or silver spoon, Sugar or spice or cream, Has the wild berry plucked in June Beside the trickling stream. One such to melt at the tongue's root, Confounding taste with scent, Beats a full peck of garden fruit: Which points my argument. May sudden justice overtake And snap the froward pen, That old and palsied poets shake Against the minds of men. Blasphemers trusting to hold caught In far-flung webs of ink, The utmost ends of human thought Till nothing's left to think. But may the gift of heavenly peace And glory for all time Keep the boy Tom who tending geese First made the nursery rhyme. Wild strawberries, strawberry flower, vanilla-infused sugar, early summer grasses, and milky dandelion sap. And a handful of seasonal pleasures -- JUNE GLOOM It’s May in Los Angeles, and we’re baking slowly as the weather hits the low 100’s Here at the Lab, we are praying for a little June Gloom. Bright summer flowers, fresh herbs, and a bit of citrus rind dampened by the scent of morning mist and rain. LITHA 2009 Midsummer, Ukon Juhla, Alban Heruin, the Light of the Shore. This is the summer solstice, the longest day of the year, marking the sun's highest path across the sky. The Sun God and the Lord of the Forest are at the apex of their strength, and the Holy Day itself is a celebration of light's triumph over darkness. The world around us is teeming with light and life, and on this day fertility rituals for both the land and its people are observed. Golden honey and moss, with honeysuckle, chamomile, parsley, white gardenia, frankincense, carnation, vervain, gum arabic, yarrow, and liquid copal. ST JOHN’S EVE Verily I say unto you, Among them that are born of women there hath not risen a greater than John the Baptist: notwithstanding he that is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he. -- Matthew 11:11 The birth of John the Baptist coincides with the Summer Solstice, and in keeping with the eternal rhythm of the universe, John understood that as the sun’s strength begins to wane after the Summer Solstice, so did he move aside after preparing the way for the Winter King, Christ. Ye yourselves bear me witness, that I said, I am not the Christ, but that I am sent before him. He that hath the bride is the bridegroom: but the friend of the bridegroom, which standeth and heareth him, rejoiceth greatly because of the bridegroom's voice: this my joy therefore is fulfilled. He must increase, but I decrease. -- John 3:28-30 St. John’s holy day is full of holy significance that is so primal and archetypal that it transcends any one faith. It is a merging of the rituals of Midsummer with symbols of Biblical faith. On this eve, prayers to God for bountiful harvests and fertility are said over St. John’s blessed bonfires, a leap over the sacred flames brings good fortune in new undertakings and unions, and the waters of rivers and lakes bring renewed strength, vitality, and spiritual cleansing. A summer bonfire, with frankincense and myrrh, bay rum, and white rose. The ‘Post is presenting its Lunacy tee in two colors this month pink and white!  And the ‘Post is also offering a lovely, empowering summer Inquest WARRIOR QUEENS I am the queen of war. I am the queen of the thunderbolt. I stir up the sea and calm it. I am the rays of the Sun. We live in a challenging time. Conflict, uncertainty, tension All of us sometimes feel that adversity threatens to overwhelm us, and that we are facing -- both on a personal and worldwide scale -- insurmountable difficulty. To help combat this, we present the Warrior Queens series -- a very different sort of Goblin Inquest. This is an Inquest of Self-Empowerment. Both men and women can find strength within the tales of these Warrior Queens, and may see that through these archetypes, they enable themselves to draw upon a deeper well of internal fortitude. It's at times like this that we need to look within ourselves and celebrate our triumphs, remember our victories, and use these memories, and the stories of those who came before us, to find courage amidst chaos and hardship. We invite you to share tales of your personal victories with us as you tell us which Warrior you identify with most, and why. A little about our Heroines BOADICEA Rebel Queen of the Iceni, she led an uprising of the tribes against the Roman Empire. After Claudius’ conquest of the area, the Iceni voluntarily allied themselves to Rome, though Rome was not a gentle parent state. The Romans conquered much of Brittania, desecrated the sacred groves at Mona, and slaughtered the druids. When Boadicea’s husband, Prasutagus, died, his will was ignored and his massive financial debt to Rome was called in forcefully. Iceni was annexed as though it was a conquered territory, property and estates were seized, both tribal nobility and the common folk were enslaved. When Boadicea objected to the treatment of her lands and her people, she was flogged, and her children were grievously injured. Boadicea took her vengeance. Under the leadership of Boadicea, the Iceni and Trinovantes united with their neighbors and the surviving druids of Mona to instigate a rebellion. They cut a swath of furious destruction. Her warriors slaughtered Legionary forces, and destroyed Camulodunum, Londinium, and Verulamium -- so scorching the earth beneath Londinium that the scar is still visible beneath modern London. HER PERFUME Amber, fig, vanilla flower, oak, patchouli, vetiver, dragon’s blood resin, leather, and neroli. HER BATH Fig, neroli, amber, vanilla, patchouli, pine needle, and vetiver. HUA MULAN Click, click, for ever click, click; Mulan sits at the door and weaves. Listen, and you will not hear the shuttle’s sound, But only a girl’s sobs and sighs. ‘Oh, tell me, lady, are you thinking of your love, Oh, tell me, lady, are you longing for your dear?’ ‘Oh no, oh no, I am not longing for my dear. But last night I read the battle-roll; The Khan has ordered a great levy of men. The battle-roll was written in twelve books, And in each book stood my father’s name. My father’s sons are not grown men, And of all of my brothers, none is older than me. Oh let me to the market to buy saddle and horse, And ride with the soldiers to take my father’s place.’ In the eastern market she’s bought a gallant hors. In the western market she’s bought saddle and cloth. In the southern market she’s bought snaffle and reins. In the northern market she’s bought a tall whip. In the morning she stole from her father’s and mother’s house. At night she was camping by the Yellow River’s side. She could not hear her father and mother calling to her by name, But only the voice of the Yellow River as its waters swirled through the night. At dawn they left the River and went on their way; At dusk they came to the Black Water’s side. She could not hear her father and mother calling to her by her name, She could only hear the muffled voices of foreign horsemen riding on the hills of Yen. A thousand leagues she tramped on the errands of war. Frontiers and hills she crossed like a bird in flight. Through the northern air echoed the watchman’s tap; The wintry light gleamed on coats of mail. The captain had fought a hundred fights, and died; The warriors in ten years had won their rest. The went home, they saw the Emperor’s face; The Son of Heaven was seated in the Hall of Light. The deeds of the brave were recorded in twelve books; In prizes he gave a hundred thousand cash. Thus spoke the Khan and asked her what she would take. ‘Oh, Mulan asks not to be made A counsellor at the Khan’s court; I only beg for a camel that can march A thousand leagues a day, To take me back to my home.’ When her father and mother heard that she had come, They went out to the wall and led her back to the house. When her little sister heard that she had come, She went to the door and rouged herself afresh. When her little brother heard that his sister had come, He sharpened his knife and darted like a flash Towards the pigs and sheep. She opened the gate that leads to the eastern tower, She sat on her bed that stood in the western tower. She cast aside her heavy soldier’s cloak, And wore again her old-time dress. She stood at the window and bound her cloudy hair; She went to the mirror and fastened her yellow combs. She left the house and met her messmates in the road; Her messmates were startled out of their wits. The had marched with her for twelve years of war And never know that Mulan was girl. For the male hare sits with its legs tucked in, And the female hare is known for her bleary eye; But set them both scampering side by side, And who so wise could tell you ‘This is he’? HER PERFUME Pink musk, white ginger, tea leaf, night blooming jasmine, bergamot, and leather. HER BATH White ginger, tea leaf, night blooming jasmine, neroli, rose, and lotus root. JINGU Known as Pimoko, the sun-daughter, Jingu was an Empress of Japan who served as regent and de facto ruler between the time of the death of her husband and the ascension of her son, Emperor Ojin. Sure that knowledge of her husband’s death would bring discord to her realm, she managed to keep his passing a secret, and successfully put down numerous insurrections in his name. Although she was pregnant with the future emperor of Japan, she donned armor and rode into battle, leading the conquest of Silla. HER PERFUME Sakura, white orchid, mandarin, bamboo, red sandalwood, plum blossom, and lilac. HER BATH Sakura, plum wine, and rice flower. SEMIRAMIS A legendary Assyrian queen, often identified with Sammu-Ramat, the wife of Shamshi-Adad V, she was believed to be the daughter of the goddess Atargatis. Her youth was filled with mythic adventure, and her otherworldly beauty and voluptuous sexuality ensured her two advantageous marriages. When she took the reins of power of Empress of Assyria, she expanded her kingdom by conquering much of Mesopotamia and Asia. She beautified and revitalized Babylon, and implemented improvements in Nineveh that helped to moderate the flow of the Tigris. She was renowned for her military and political prowess, as well as her ferocious and merciless sexual appetite. HER PERFUME Red musk, pomegranate, orange blossom, and melon. HER BATH Red musk, pomegranate, red cherry, myrrh, and blood orange. TOMOE GOZEN A "warrior worth a thousand, ready to confront a demon or a god, mounted or on foot." Tomoe Gozen was a fierce, noble, and courageous samurai, first captain, as well as a renowned beauty. She was an excellent swordswoman, famed for her riding ability and her skill at archery. She fought for Minamoto no Yoshinaka at Battle of Awazu, and her forces were defeated. Legend says she was seen holding the severed head of one of her foes on the battlefield, and vanished, never to be seen again. HER PERFUME Red currant, golden amber, blackberry, honey, and pink pepper. HER BATH Red currant and honey. YSABEL Isabella I, Queen of Castile and León, was a proponent of education, establishing lasting institutions of higher learning, a patron of scholars and artists, and an enthusiastic sponsor of exploratory expeditions, including Christopher Columbus’ voyage to the New World. She possessed a great military mind, and was integral in the retaking of Grenada, thus sealing the Reconquista. With her husband, Ferdinand, she ruled with equal authority and power, unifying Spain and laying the foundations of the Spanish Empire. HER PERFUME Red carnation, red roses, Spanish cedar, velvet musk, pomegranate, clove, and incense. HER BATH Frankincense, benzoin, carnation, and balsam of Peru. ZENOBIA Zenobia was Queen of the Palmyrene Empire. She assumed leadership of her nomadic tribe after her father’s death, eventually marrying King Septimius Odaenathus. Zenobia seemed a contradiction: chaste, dark-eyed, and lovely, but able to drink, fight, and make war like a man. She fought, on horseback, alongside her husband in many battles, and ruled the Empire with a fair and just hand after her husband’s passing. To her people, she was the Lady of Victory, conquering several Roman provinces, including Egypt, and expelling the prefect, Tenagino Probus, who was beheaded after he led an attempt to seize back control of the territory for Rome. Her conquests enabled her to control many vital trade routes, further earning her the ire of the Romans. Unfortunately, she eventually overextended her reach. She was betrayed, and then captured by Emperor Aurelian, displayed in chains in a triumphal procession through Rome, her Empire dissolved. Rather than capitulate to misfortune, she made a new life for herself, and became a Roman matron, philosopher, and socialite. HER PERFUME Orris, clove, costus storax, patchouli, hyssop, frankincense, balsam, and saffron. HER BATH Orris, amber, balsam, calamus, and frankincense. Each set comes with a 5ml bottle of the Queen’s perfume, a 4oz bottle of the Queen’s bath oil, and a squirt of Templum Victoriae Atmospheric Spray: frankincense, olive leaf, champaca, beeswax, amber, and bay myrtle. If you choose not to submit a story, you can leave the selection up to us, or you can specify your choice of Queen in the comments field. Each of the Warrior Queens are only sold as a set, the packs cannot be split up, and the products in this LE cannot be sold on their own. You may place an order for multiple sets, or place multiple orders; in either case, each will be considered separately in the course of the Inquest process. If you are placing an order for more than one set, you may submit multiple tales, applicable to each order. Please indicate which statement or quiz result pertains to which order. You have until May 31, 2009 to participate, at which point the Inquest will end. Please note: Inquests will not begin to ship until May 22, 2009. And with that, I’m going to crawl into bed. Good night, all! From the 7 April 2009: Planting Moon is live at BPAL and BPTP! PLANTING MOON As is the garden such is the gardener, A man’s nature runs either to herbs or to weeds. –Francis Bacon This Full Moon marks a time for new growth, both within nature and within our spirits. It is a time of fertility and fruitfulness, for sowing seeds to ensure blessings and bounty later in the year. The scent of Planting Moon is that of summer squashes, pole beans, tomato leaves, upturned earth, and sun-warmed herbs.  The scent (at BPAL) and the tee (at BPTP) will be live until April 11, 2009. The Velvet Painting Exhibit will be departing the Salon on June 1, 2009, and Le Mat will also vanish from Black Phoenix Trading Post that day. From the 13 March 2009 update: Happy Friday the 13th! o.O From the 9 March 2009 update: Flower Moon is live at BPAL and BPTP! FLOWER MOON April, too, marks the apex of the year's fertility, expresses the reawakening of the sexuality of the Earth and her inhabitants, and May's full moon celebrates both the fecundity of the creatures and flora of this world and the vibrancy, rejuvenation and life-affirming energy of Spring. Flower Moon embodies the unrestrained bliss, energy and color of the season: a bouquet of vivid, sexy blooms, coated in thick, golden honey... wisteria, swamp jasmine, honeysuckle, daffodil, rhododendron, phlox, and a mix of California wildflowers. Trading Post presents a lovely, petal-dappled phoenix tee by Jennifer Williamson! --  And in the spirit of springtime flora, there are some new additions to the Garden at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab! THE APPLE OF SODOM their vine is of the vine of Sodom, and of the fields of Gomorrah: their grapes are grapes of gall, their clusters are bitter. The tree’s bark is grey and cork-like, and the fruit, when ripe, is bright yellow, comely and sweet-scented. After their success in tempting Adam and Eve to the knowledge of sin, Satan and his cronies celebrated by partaking of the Apple: There stood A Grove hard by, sprung up with this thir change, His will who reigns above, to aggravate Thir penance, laden with Fruit like that Which grew in Paradise, the bait of Eve Us'd by the Tempter: on that prospect strange Thir earnest eyes they fix'd, imagining For one forbidden Tree a multitude Now ris'n, to work them furder woe or shame; Yet parcht with scalding thurst and hunger fierce, Though to delude them sent, could not abstain, But on they rould in heaps, and up the Trees Climbing, sat thicker then the snakie locks That curld Megæra: greedily they pluck'd The Frutage fair to sight, like that which grew Neer that bituminous Lake where Sodom flam'd; This more delusive, not the touch, but taste Deceav'd; they fondly thinking to allay Thir appetite with gust, instead of Fruit Chewd bitter Ashes, which th' offended taste With spattering noise rejected: oft they assayd, Hunger and thirst constraining, drugd as oft, With hatefullest disrelish writh'd thir jaws With soot and cinders fill'd; so oft they fell Into the same illusion, not as Man Whom they triumph'd once lapst. Thus were they plagu'd And worn with Famin, long and ceasless hiss, Till thir lost shape, permitted, they resum'd, Yearly enjoynd, some say, to undergo This annual humbling certain number'd days, To dash thir pride, and joy for Man seduc't. Native to the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, this fruit turns to ashes when plucked as a sign of God’s displeasure. BOHUN UPAS The Tree of Poisons. Every aspect of this tree is toxic, from the narcotic, lethal fumes that it emits, to its oozing, poisonous sap. A deceptively tranquil scent: heady fruits, dry bark, and deep green leaves, enveloped by a dark and sinister murk. THE LOTUS TREE Thence the winds bore me, blowing fierce and fell, Across the fish-abounding ocean swell A nine-days’ space: and on the tenth we reached The land where the Lotus-eaters dwell, Who fed on flowery food: there landed we And drew us water, and by the sea By the swift ships taking our midday meal We drank and ate bread in sufficiency. Then of my crew I sent to bring me word, Exploring inland, what they saw or heard Of dwellers on the acres, choosing out Twain, and as a herald with them for the third. And straightway going forth, anigh they drew The Lotus-eaters; who against our crew Devised not hurt, but gave them of the fruit To taste upon the lotus-trees that grew. But whoso of them once began to eat The lotus-fruit, that is as honey sweet, Had no will longer in him to return Or bring back tidings, but desired to fleet His days among the lotus-eating men, Eating the lotus, nor return again. Howbeit I drove them weeping to the ships, And to the ships’ hold haled and bound them then Under the benches: but I bade anon My fellows to the swift ships get them gone In haste, that none might of the lotus-fruit Eat, and forget the way he went upon. Honey-sweet and soporific. THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE OF GOOD AND EVIL After these things, surveying the entrances of the north, above the mountains, I perceived seven mountains replete with pure nard, odoriferous trees, cinnamon and papyrus. From there I passed on above the summits of those mountains to some distance eastwards, and went over the Erythraean sea. And when I was advanced far beyond it, I passed along above the angel Zateel, and arrived at the garden of righteousness. In this garden I beheld, among other trees, some which were numerous and large, and which flourished there. Their fragrance was agreeable and powerful, and their appearance both varied and elegant. The tree of knowledge also was there, of which if any one eats, he becomes endowed with great wisdom. It was like a species of the tamarind tree, bearing fruit which resembled grapes extremely fine; and its fragrance extended to a considerable distance. I exclaimed, How beautiful is this tree, and how delightful is its appearance! Then holy Raphael, an angel who was with me, answered and said, This is the tree of knowledge, of which your ancient father and your aged mother ate, who were before you; and who, obtaining knowledge, their eyes being opened, and knowing themselves to be naked, were expelled from the garden. Whiffs of cinnamon bark, almond, and spikenard surround a perfect fruit, whose scent is akin to a tamarind, with the grace of a fine grape, as warm and rich as a fresh fig, glistening red like pomegranate seeds, and as crisp as an apple. YA-TE-VO Travelers have told us of a plant, which they assert grows in Central Africa and also in South America, that is not contented with myriad of larger insects which it catches and consumes, but its voracity extends to making even humans its prey. This marvelous vegetable Minotaur is represented as having a short, thick trunk, from the top of which radiate giant spines, narrow and flexible but of extraordinary tenaciousness, the edges of which are armed with barbs, or dagger-like teeth. Instead of growing upright, or at an inclined angle from the trunk, these spines lay their outer ends upon the ground, and so gracefully are they distributed that the trunk resembles an easy couch with green drapery around it. The unfortunate traveler, ignorant of the monstrous creation which lies in his way, and curious to examine the strange plant, or to rest himself upon its inviting stalk approaches without a suspicion of his certain doom. The moment his feet are set within the circle of the horrid spines, they rise up, like gigantic serpents, and entwine themselves about him until he is drawn upon the stump, when they speedily drive their daggers into his body and thus complete the massacre. The body is crushed until every drop of blood is squeezed out of it and becomes absorbed by the gore-loving plant, when the dry carcass is thrown out and the horrid trap set again. Barbed, sanguinary greenery, fleshy and sharp. THE ZIEBA TREE A massive tree that held, in its lowest boughs, a nest of bare-breasted men and women. The souls sprawled within the Zieba Tree’s branches were trapped in reverie, lost for all eternity in their fantasies. A dreamlike, listless scent, misty and hazed, with wisps of white sandalwood, eddying musks the colors of eventide, shimmering pale resins, davana, lemon blossom, orange blossom, and white peach. The world is in the midst of massive upheaval, and to help keep the uncertainty, fear, and fretting at bay, we present a new type of Chaos Theory that melds the comfort and harmony of the familiar with a injection of jolly tumult... CHAOS THEORY V: RECURSIVE SELF-SIMILARITY You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star. - Friedrich Nietzsche A new take on Chaos! For this series, we decided to try a different type of chaotic experimentation. Each CT:5 scent has a base of one of the following scents, in wildly varying proportions: Dorian O Penitence Snake Oil From these bases comes a new series of flowing, fragrant fractals that emanate from these four roots. Random combinations of oils have been added to every individual bottle, resulting in a truly unique blend that retains some of the tone, essence, and soul of the original. This is an exercise in the joy of chance and uncertainty! Each is a one-of-a-kind, utterly random combination of scents, the composition of which is based on whim, mood and gut instinct. Most common allergens have been omitted from the experiment. No pennyroyal, no nuts, no cinnamon, no cassia. Regardless, if you have any sensitivities, please do not participate in Chaos Theory. The contents of the oils are not recorded [that's the whole point!] and we will not be able to answer questions about specific bottles of CT:5 or guarantee that an allergen is not present in your order. By purchasing CT:5, you agree to absolve Black Phoenix of any responsibility related to an allergic reaction to one of the oils in this series. Please make a responsible choice, and use caution and discretion when ordering. This is intended to be a fun, exciting project. Please bear in mind that all Black Phoenix oils are made in an environment that contains nuts, both literally and figuratively. The Chaos blends were created by m‘self, Doc Constantine, and Mister Teddy from Black Phoenix Trading Post, so you get an extra dollop of chaos! We hope that you enjoy these scents as much as we enjoyed creating them! CHAOS THEORY V: RECURSIVE SELF-SIMILARITY V1 The Dorian Series CHAOS THEORY V: RECURSIVE SELF-SIMILARITY V2 The O Series CHAOS THEORY V: RECURSIVE SELF-SIMILARITY V3 The Penitence Series CHAOS THEORY V: RECURSIVE SELF-SIMILARITY V4 The Snake Oil Series A portion of all the proceeds from CT:5 will go to United Way. Flower Moon will be live until March 13th, and CT:5 will be live until April 15th! Black Phoenix Trading Post is OVERJOYED to present the first in a series of lockets and pendants inspired by the short stories of Neil Gaiman! This is a charitable, not-for-profit venture: proceeds from every single piece go to Match It For Pratchett, which is raising money to match Terry Pratchett’s $1,000,000.00 donation to the Alzheimer’s Research Trust. Thank you so much, Neil, for giving us so many years of joy, wonder, and inspiration, and for the pleasure of working with you on this project! Heartfelt thanks to Alicia Dabney and Julie Dillon for providing the artwork for the lockets and pendant! Also new to the Post -- the Brimstone and Triple Dagger pendants! Until next time, ladies and gents! From the 1 March 2009 update: Beware the Ides of March! -- THE IDES OF MARCH 2009 The Ides marked an auspicious time in the Roman calendar. Depending on the month in question, the Ides fell on the thirteenth or fifteenth, and usually marked the Full Moon. As we all know, it was not an auspicious day for Julius Caesar, nor was it fortuitous for H.P. Lovecraft, who also met his maker on this infamous day. Tu quoque, Brute, fili mi! A mixture of Italian greenery, gleaming metal, and classical Roman cologne: rosemary, bergamot, lemon rind and vervain with costus, balsam, benzoin, gray amber, dittany, white narcissus and iris. Irish bards were members of a hereditary caste of learned poets. They were officials of the courts of their chieftains and kings, and served as historians, storytellers, and satirists. They were immersed in the rich history of their clan and country, and learned the intricacies of their craft from birth. Their words held so much power that it was believed that a glam dicing, or satirical incantation, spoken by a bard held the magic of a curse. This series is celebration of great Irish poets and storytellers. Through these poems, we touch the glory, beauty, and grief that permeates the soul of Ireland. ++ BARDS OF IRELAND THE DESERTED VILLAGE OLIVER GOLDSMITH Good heaven! What sorrows gloomed that parting day, That called them from their native walks away; When the poor exiles, every pleasure past, Hung round their bowers and fondly looked their last, And took a long farewell, and wished in vain For seats like these beyond the western main; And shuddering still to face the distant deep, Returned and wept, and still returned to weep. The good old sire the first prepared to go To new-found worlds, and wept for others' woe; But for himself, in conscious virtue brave, He only wished for worlds beyond the grave. His lovely daughter, lovelier in her years, Silent went next, neglectful of her charms, And left a lover's for a father's arms. With louder plaints the mother spoke her woes, And blessed the cot where every pleasure rose; And kissed her thoughtless babes with many a tear, And clasped them close, in sorrow doubly dear; Whilst her fond husband strove to lend relief In all the silent manliness of grief. O luxury! thou cursed by heaven's decree, How ill exchanged are things like these for thee! How do thy potions with insidious joy Diffuse their pleasures only to destroy! Kingdoms, by thee to sickly greatness grown Boast of a florid vigour not their own. At every draught more large and large they grow, A bloated mass of rank unwieldy woe; Till sapped their strength and every part unsound, Down, down they sink and spread a ruin round. Even now the devastation has begun, And half the business of destruction done; Even now, methinks, as pondering here I stand, I see the rural virtues leave the land. Down where yon anchoring vessel spreads the sail, That idly waiting flaps with every gale, Downward they move, a melancholy band, Pass from the shore and darken all the strand. Contented toil and hospitable care, And kind connubial tenderness are there; And piety, with wishes placed above, And steady loyalty and faithful love. And thou, sweet Poetry, thou loveliest maid Still first to fly where sensual joys invade; Unfit, in these degenerate times of shame, To catch the heart or strike for honest fame; Dear charming nymph, neglected and decried, My shame in crowds, my solitary pride; Thou source of all my bliss and all my woe, That found'st me poor at first and keep'st me so; Thou guide by which the nobler arts excel, Thou nurse of every virtue, fare thee well! Farewell, and oh, where'er thy voice be tried, On Torno's cliffs or Pambamarca's side, Whether where equinoctial fervours glow, Or winter wraps the polar world in snow, Still let thy voice, prevailing over time, Redress the rigours of the inclement clime; Aid slighted truth; with thy persuasive strain Teach erring man to spurn the rage of gain; Teach him that states of native strength possessed, Though very poor, may still be very blest; That trade's proud empire hastes to swift decay, As ocean sweeps the laboured mole away; While self-dependent power can time defy, As rocks resist the billows and the sky. Where wealth accumulates and men decay. A scent of opulence, luxury, depredation, and dissolusion: velvety orris root and glittering bergamot, ambergris, red currant, honey, and neroli, with red oakmoss, patchouli, labdanum, and black musk. THE DOLE OF THE KING’S DAUGHTER OSCAR WILDE Even stars in the still water, And seven in the sky; Seven sins on the King's daughter, Deep in her soul to lie. Red roses at her feet, (Roses are red in her red-gold hair) And O where her bosom and girdle meet Red roses are hidden there. Fair is the knight who lieth slain Amid the rush and reed, See the lean fishes that are fain Upon dead men to feed. Sweet is the page that lieth there, (Cloth of gold is goodly prey,) See the black ravens in the air, Black, O black as the night are they. What do they there so stark and dead? (There is blood upon her hand) Why are the lilies flecked with red? (There is blood on the river sand.) There are two that ride from the south to the east, And two from the north and west, For the black raven a goodly feast, For the King's daughter to rest. There is one man who loves her true, (Red, O red, is the stain of gore!) He hath duggen a grave by the darksome yew, (One grave will do for four.) No moon in the still heaven, In the black water none, The sins on her soul are seven, The sin upon his is one. Red roses, blood-flecked lilies, upturned earth, yew branches, and blood mingled with river sand. EANACH DHÚIN ANTOINE Ó RAIFTEIRI If my health is spared I'll be long relating Of that boat that sailed out of Anach Cuain. And the keening after of mother and father And child by the harbour, the mournful croon! King of Graces, who died to save us, T'were a small affair but for one or two, But a boat-load bravely in calm day sailing Without storm or rain to be swept to doom. What wild despair was on all the faces To see them there in the light of day, In every place there was lamentation, And tearing of hair as the wreck was shared. And boys there lying when crops were ripening, From the strength of life they were borne to clay In their wedding clothes for their wake they robed them O King of Glory, man's hope is in vain. Unutterable grief expressed through the scent of balsam, frankincense, blackberry leaf, oud, white rose, driftwood, zdravetz, and bitter clove, beneath the cold waters of the River Corrib. THE HOST OF THE AIR WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS O'Driscoll drove with a song The wild duck and the drake From the tall and the tufted reeds Of the drear Hart Lake. And he saw how the reeds grew dark At the coming of night-tide, And dreamed of the long dim hair Of Bridget his bride. He heard while he sang and dreamed A piper piping away, And never was piping so sad, And never was piping so gay. And he saw young men and young girls Who danced on a level place, And Bridget his bride among them, With a sad and a gay face. The dancers crowded about him And many a sweet thing said, And a young man brought him red wine And a young girl white bread. But Bridget drew him by the sleeve Away from the merry bands, To old men playing at cards With a twinkling of ancient hands. The bread and the wine had a doom, For these were the host of the air; He sat and played in a dream Of her long dim hair. He played with the merry old men And thought not of evil chance, Until one bore Bridget his bride Away from the merry dance. He bore her away in his arms, The handsomest young man there, And his neck and his breast and his arms Were drowned in her long dim hair. O'Driscoll scattered the cards And out of his dream awoke: Old men and young men and young girls Were gone like a drifting smoke; But he heard high up in the air A piper piping away, And never was piping so sad, And never was piping so gay. Peat and rolling grass-covered hills, with wine-dappled heather, white clover, cloudberry, juniper berry, bluebell, dandelion, and cross-leaved heath. The Ides of March and the Bards of Ireland will be with us until 15 April 2009! Happy Friday the 13th! From the 6 February 2009 update: Windy Moon is live! WINDY MOON Stinging wind whips past the trees, stripping the dead and decaying bark from their trunks. This is a time of renewal, both earthly and spiritual. The scent of wind and wood, and the smoke of council fires burning in the distance. Windy Moon will be live until February 11, 2009. From the 10 January 2009 update: Bony Moon and Earth Ox are live at Black Phoenix! BONY MOON In the stark darkness of February, food is so scarce that some are forced to chew bones and make marrow soup for nourishment. It is a time when we honor our ancestors with fasting, solemn ritual, and reflection on the triumphs and accomplishments of those who have passed before us. White sandalwood, dry cedar, and radiant, crisp lunar herbs. EARTH OX A new year's blessing! Peony, China's national flower, with bamboo for flexibility, plum blossom for perseverance, courage, and hope, tangerine for wealth, orange for happiness, lychee for household peace, pine resin for constancy, golden kumquat and quince for prosperity, narcissus and King mandarin for good fortune, peach blossom for longevity, oakmoss, plum, and tobacco for stability, and a splash of blazing red of dragon's blood... to help you scare away the rampaging Nian. Lupercalia is upon us, and the world is suffused with symbols of love and lust. Here at Black Phoenix, that is triply true! Our offerings during this Season of Schtupping contain adult material, and by clicking through to view the images and purchase our products, you are agreeing that you are a dirty bird who is 18 or older, and that you are permitted by law to view suggestive imagery. For your pleasure, we are thrilled to present another whimsical sojourn to the bedrooms of Edo-era Japan -- Novel Ideas For Secret Amusements II: A Shunga Exhibition.  And Ode to Aphrodite, a series inspired by the timeless beauty of vintage nude postcard photography; in our vision, each of these women illustrates a facet of the splendor of the goddess of love.  Before we go any further, we present a scent whose proceeds support the work of the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund: 413 U.S. 15 / Miller Vs California In 1974, a court ruling established a litmus test for obscenity in the United States. Does the First Amendment protect dirty birds? Yes, and no; it depends on where you are and what your neighbors perceive as naughty. The Court's majority opinion stated that material could only be defined as obscene if "(a) the average person, applying contemporary community standards, would find that the work, taken as a whole, appeals to the prurient interest; [and] (b) the work depicts or describes, in a patently offensive way, sexual conduct specifically defined by the applicable state law; and (c) the work, taken as a whole, lacks serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value" If all three conditions are satisfied, voilà! - your work is obscene. But is it art? Although a work considered to have literary, artistic, political, or scientific value cannot, in theory, constitutionally be found to be obscene regardless of whether it appeals to prurient interest or is patently offensive, the question lies in how we can possibly determine with certainty whether or not a film, photograph, tale, or limerick has social value when philosophical and moral compasses vary so wildly from person to person and community to community. Is a perfume inspired by an 18th Century painting of a dildo obscene? What would your friends and neighbors say? 413 U.S. 15 / MILLER VS CALIFORNIA Leather, cognac, fig, ripe berry, and cream, stuffed into a plain brown paper bag. For traditionalists with a sweet tooth, we present Box of Chocolates! - Dark Chocolate and Cherry Dark Chocolate and Pepper-Smoked Caramel Milk Chocolate Buttercream White Chocolate, Marshmallow, and Coconut White Chocolate and Strawberry White Chocolate and Sugared Violets The whole Box can be purchased as a set for $100. Inspired by the sensuality and smuttiness of the season, we have added two new scents to the general catalogue: ++ EXCOLO EROS And eros again the loosener of limbs makes me tremble A sweet-bitter unmanageable creature. Myrrh, lilac, and honey wine with crimson tea leaf and sweet resins. ++ ARS AMATORIA PRURIENCE An unwholesome scent. A craving, an itch. This scent smoulders with a lust that singes the edge of your nerves and leaves your soul chilled: red amber and scorched musk with voluptuous carnation, charred vetiver, sensuous tonka, and orris. Box of Chocolates, Ode to Aphrodite, Bony Moon, Earth Ox, The Yules, and Wind in the Willows are $17.50 each, the Resurrected and Anniversary scents are $20.00 each, Miller Vs California is $25.00, and the Shunga scents are $23.50 each. The whole Box of Chocolates is available for $100US. The Yules, Resurrected, Anniversary, and Wind in the Willows scents will be live until January 15, 2009, and Miller Vs California, the Box, Ode to Aphrodite, and the Shunga series will be live until March 13, 2009. Bony Moon and Eath Ox will be live until January 13, 2009. Bony Moon is live at the 'Post!  Adorable artwork by Jennifer Williamson! It will be live until January 13, 2009. Love is in the air at BPTP, and to celebrate, we're offering a complete Valentine's Day sensory experience: A room spray LUPANAR Good God, what a night that was, The bed was so soft, and how we clung, Burning together, lying this way and that, Our uncontrollable passions Flowing through our mouths. If I could only die that way, I'd say goodbye to the business of living. Honey, myrrh, ylang ylang, and almond. An exercise in control and release: GLACIES BATH OIL For cooling the libido and soothing the senses. Cucumber mint, sea lettuce, French lavender, geranium bourbon, and lemon balm. INCENDIA For stimulating the libido and arousing the senses. Vanilla, palmarosa, patchouli, jasmine, cocoa absolute, bergamot, sweet orange, nutmeg, ylang ylang, rose otto, and Haitian vetiver. And a set of perfumes designed to illustrate the synergy of love and lust: In alchemy, the white and red roses symbolize the male / female polarity, the active and receptive, the light and the dark. Together, the roses become the alchemical concept of Mercury: perfect unity. Our Red Rose scent is the embodiment of vigorous passion, and our White Rose personifies purity, virtue, and unconditional love. The scents individually are powerful, but layered together - combined - they become their perfected self. RED ROSE Red rose buds, with amber, clove, tonka, Indian musk, fir, and tobacco. WHITE ROSE White rose buds, with vanilla tea, benzoin, orris, coconut meat, and frankincense. The Trading Post Valentine offerings will be available until March 13, 2009. From the 11 December 2008 update: Before I get to the good stuff, here's the bad stuff As many of you out there know, the USPS site has been on the fritz for the past few days, which is hindering our ability to get orders out smoothly. At this time, we're utilizing other methods of processing postage. Your orders will still be going out via USPS, but you may not receive a Click n'Ship notification. Due to all of the redass the USPS site is giving us, we're going a little slower on the shipping than usual. This applies to both BPAL and BPTP orders. Currently, BPAL and BPTP are shipping orders from the middle through end of November. We are working diligently to find ways to circumvent the problems with the USPS site, and we'll do everything in our power to get your orders out to you asap. Thanks for your patience, guys! December just isn't an easy month, is it? Now onto the good stuff The Moon of the Terrible is live at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab! On New Year's Day each thought a loneliness as winter dusk descends Desolation at the last moment in the gloaming on New Year's Day: winter snow with lavender, benzoin, lychee, white resins, and a cluster of melancholy, lachrymose lunar herbs and florals. And... the Moon of the Terrible tee is at Black Phoenix Trading Post!  Mauve and slate grey ink on black tee. Artwork by the inimitable Jennifer Williamson. Please note: orders that include the Moon of the Terrible tee will not ship in time for Christmas. Lunacy tees do not go into production until we're done taking orders for them, and they take a few weeks to be made. Now that Storytime has come down at Black Phoenix Trading Post, the goblins are able to get crackin' on reading the pleas. Due to the nature of this project, there is a delay in getting these out so we can ensure that every order gets the attention it deserves. Storytime packs will begin to ship after the 15th. The Moon of the Terrible will be live on both sites until 14 December 2008! Happy holidays, everyone! We hope you have the happiest of happy 2009s! From the 22 November 2008 BPTP update: The 'Post has a whole bunch o'new stuff! New to the GC Bath Oils: INVIDIA O, beware, my lord, of jealousy! It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock The meat it feeds on. White grapefruit, tea leaf, white ginger, orange blossom, jasmine, honey myrtle, and lime. PATIENTIA Patience and perseverance have a magical effect before which difficulties disappear and obstacles vanish. -- John Quincy Adams Sandalwood, benzoin, cardamom, calamus, palmarosa, and sage. And new to the GC Atmosphere Sprays: DOC CONSTANTINE'S MEDICINE SHOW Polished wood, olibanum, questionable medicinal herbs, sarsaparilla, and a splash of bay rum. OKIYA Cherry blossom, green tea, and sake. SALOON #10 Nuttal & Mann's Saloon No. 10, Deadwood, Black Hills, Dakota Territory: sweaty leather, chewing tobacco, and Red Eye. We are phasing out the 8oz room sprays, so only the Queen's Croquet Ground, Cathouse, and Down the Rabbit Hole will be offered in that size. All of the GC sprays are available in 4oz bottles, and in Goblin Squirt form! We are thrilled to present this season's limited edition offerings: The Bah Humbug tee!  ++ WINTER ATMOSPHERE SPRAY SNOW WHITE A chilly, bright perfume: flurries of virgin snow, crisp winter wind and the faintest breath of night-blooming flowers. ++ WINTER BATH OILS ICE PRINCE BATH OIL As beautiful and cold as a December storm. Crystalline musk, winter lily, bergamot, plum, and frozen pine boughs. PROSERPINA BATH OIL For thine came pale and a maiden, and sister to sorrow; but ours, Her deep hair heavily laden with odour and colour of flowers, White rose of the rose-white water, a silver splendour, a flame, Bent down unto us that besought her, and earth grew sweet with her name. The emergence of light in darkness. Frozen pomegranate and a hint of nocturnal blossoms. WINTER MAIDEN BATH OIL Ice-rimed innocence. The blush of youth, frozen for eternity. Snow-laden woods, iced blackberry and bergamot, white rose, and crystallized amber. HOLIDAY STRESS RELIEF BATH OIL Relax, revive, restore. Peppermint, spearmint, geranium bourbon, lavender, clary sage, white amber, juniper berry, laurel leaf, coriander, opoponax, and mandarin. Please note: Snow White Atmosphere Spray is only offered in the 4oz size. The bath oils are all 8oz. Holiday Stress Relief is $40US due to the cost of the components, and Winter Maiden, Ice Prince, and Proserpina are $30US. And This season's Inquisition is live! The Goblins of Yuletide Storytime! Tell your tale and receive an atmosphere spray and a perfume oil in a fancy schmancy green velveteen pouch! Storytime and the Bah Humbug tee will be live until December 5, 2008, and the winter room spray and bath oils will be live until December 15, 2008. A quickie public service announcement: Please note that all Black Phoenix Trading Post orders, including domestic orders, are currently taking an excess of 14 - 21 business days to process, pack and ship out due to a heavy workload. Lunacy and Inquisition items may exceed 21 - 28 days to process. All of our products are handmade, and the tees are hand-screened. Due to the nature of the beast, Trading Post cannot guarantee Christmas shipping on orders that contain Storytime, but we will do our very best. Thank you for understanding! Pendants and new scent lockets are coming soon! And that's it for now! From the 18 November 2008 update: OMFG, happy sixth anniversary to Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab! We are overjoyed to present six phoenixes that represent what we strive for, and two Resurrected blends: METAL PHOENIX Tenacity, force, strength, stability, and determination: Chinese musk and gleaming white metal with honeysuckle, rose mallow, verbena, and carnation. WOOD PHOENIX Flexibility, cooperation, expansiveness, and altruism: Chinese musk and five woods with newly budding bamboo shoots, hyssop, chamomile, pink clove, magnolia, walnut, and fig. WATER PHOENIX Compassion, eloquence, introspection: Chinese musk and rain, with salty oceanic notes, frankincense, juniper berry, lily of the valley, lavender, cinquefoil, and sweet pea. FIRE PHOENIX Enterprise, adventure, restlessness, impulsiveness, and dynamism: Chinese musk and red musk with hyacinth, cactus flower, cubeb berry, galangal, tobacco, pink pepper, and sarsaparilla. EARTH PHOENIX Hard work, patience, and harmony: Chinese musk, dark musk, and moist soil with black cherry, opoponax, night-blooming jasmine, plum, woodland tobacco, snakeweed, and cypress. And because its just plain silly to take yourself too seriously CANDY PHOENIX A dusky, effervescent mix of pomegranate and black currant candies, with a dusting of sugared pear and white apple. 2008's Resurrected scents are: BEAVER'VERSARY Cheesecake and cupcakes, yo! This is Beaver Moon 2005 resurrected! SNAKE CHARMER: RESURRECTED Sensual, sibilant, sexual and hypnotic: Arabian musk and exotic spices slinking through Egyptian amber, enticing vanilla, and a serpentine blend of black plum, labdanum, ambrette, benzoin and black coconut. The Anniversary and Resurrected scents are $20 each, and will be live until January 15, 2009. Moon of Small Spirits (BPAL, not BPTP) and the Halloweenies have been extended til November 19, 2008. The BPTP update will be live this week. Keep those eyes peeled! (Ew. Peeled eyes.) A little bit of biz'ness schtuff In order to receive your package by Christmas Eve... Internationals! Please place your order by December 6th. Domestics! Please place your order by December 13th. Please bear in mind that we are not responsible for USPS shenanigans. We do promise that we will bust our asses to get you your orders asap! Holy. Moly. SIX FRIGGIN' YEARS! A million thanks to our beloved customers for being our friends and our extended family, for helping us make our dreams a reality, and for celebrating anniversaries, births, and unions with us! A million thanks to the administrators and moderators of the bpal.org forum for their love, support, and crazyhard work! And a million thanks to our wonderful staff for helping us stink up the world! From the 12 November 2008 update: Moon of Small Spirits is live at BPAL! It will be available until November 15, 2008! This month's lunacy was inspired by the cold fullness of the moon, the beauty of the season, the quiet renewal of life that winter symbolizes, and by Carl Sandburg's Poem "Early Moon": MOON OF SMALL SPIRITS The baby moon, a canoe, a silver papoose canoe, sails and sails in the Indian west. A ring of silver foxes, a mist of silver foxes, sit and sit around the Indian moon. One yellow star for a runner, and rows of blue stars for more runners, keep a line of watchers. O foxes, baby moon, runners, you are the panel of memory, fire-white writing to-night of the Red Man's dreams. Who squats, legs crossed and arms folded, matching its look against the moon-face, the star-faces, of the West? Who are the Mississippi Valley ghosts, of copper foreheads, riding wiry ponies in the night?-no bridles, love-arms on the pony necks, riding in the night a long old trail? Why do they always come back when the silver foxes sit around the early moon, a silver papoose, in the Indian west? Snow-blanketed wild grasses, sage, swamp tea, cedar, giniminagawunj, copal, rosehip, juniper, clover, elderberry, sweet flag, butterfly weed, wood sorrel, and pine. The BPTP Small Spirits update will be a little bit late - its going to be live tomorrow night. The winter Inquisition will be live at BPTP soon. Apologies for the delay on the BPTP update and the Inquisition! Your humble narrator is still adjusting to motherhood. Hee. From the Halloween 2008 update: Happy Halloween, everybody! We are overjoyed to present a new perfume series celebrating Neil Gaiman's brilliant new novel, the Graveyard Book. I truly adore this story, and have already read it several times to Miss Lilith. The story is light, yet melancholy, witty and charming, suspenseful and sweet -- it is an absolute pleasure in every way. Like all of Neil's work, it runs through the full spectrum of emotion, and I'll admit to you guys I cried quite a few times while I read it. I love stories that move me. Thank you, Neil, for the opportunity to interpret your story in scent! We love the Graveyard Book, and we love you! ++ THE GRAVEYARD BOOK BANANA PEEL IN A GRAVEYARD "We can put the food here," said Silas. "It's cool, and the food will keep longer." He reached into the box, pulled out a banana. "And what would that be when it was at home?" asked Mrs Owens, eyeing the yellow and brown object suspiciously. "It's a banana. A fruit, from the tropics. I believe you peel off the outer covering," said Silas, "Like so." The child - Nobody - wriggled in Mrs Owens arms, and she let it down to the flagstones. It toddled rapidly to Silas, grasped his trouser-leg and held on. Silas passed it the banana. Mrs Owens watched the boy eat. "Ba-na-na," she said, dubiously. "Never heard of them. Never. What's it taste like?" "I've absolutely no idea," said Silas, who consumed only one food, and it was not bananas. "You could make up a bed in here for the boy, you know." A banana peel discarded among tombstones and crypts. THE CONVOCATION A small sign in the hotel lobby announced that the Washington Room was taken that night by a private function, although there was no information as to what kind of function this might be. Truthfully, if you were to look at the inhabitants of the Washington Room that night, you would have no clearer idea of what was happening, although a rapid glance would tell you that there were no women in there. They were all men, that much was clear, and they sat at round dinner tables, and they were finishing their dessert. There were about a hundred of them, all in sober black suits, but the suits were all they had in common. They had white hair or dark hair or fair hair or red hair or no hair at all. They had friendly faces or unfriendly, helpful or sullen, open or secretive, brutish or sensitive. The majority of them were pink-skinned, but there were black-skinned men and brown-skinned. They were European, African, Indian, Chinese, South American, Filipino, American. They all spoke English when they talked to each other, or to the waiters, but the accents were as diverse as the gentlemen. They came from all across Europe and from all over the world. A macabre mélange of swanky men's colognes. EAU DE GHOUL They all started telling stories, then, of how fine and wonderful a thing it was to be a ghoul, of all the things they had crunched up and swallowed down with their powerful teeth. Impervious they were to disease or illness, said one of them. Why, it didn't matter what their dinner had died of, they could just chomp it down. They told of the places they had been, which mostly seemed to be catacombs and plague-pits ("Plague Pits is good eatin'," said the Emperor of China, and everyone agreed.) They told Bod how they had got their names and how he, in his turn, once he had become a nameless ghoul, would be named, as they had been. "But I don't want to become one of you," said Bod. "One way or another," said the Bishop of Bath and Wells, cheerily, "you'll become one of us. The other way is messier, involves being digested, and you're not really around very long to enjoy it." "But that's not a good thing to talk about," said the Emperor of China."Best to be a Ghoul. We're afraid of nuffink!" And all the ghouls around the coffin-wood fire howled at this statement, and growled and sang and exclaimed at how wise they were, and how mighty, and how fine it was to be scared of nothing. Dessicated skin coated in blackened ginger, cinnamon, and mold-flecked dirt, with cumin, bitter clove, leather, and dried blood. GHÛLHEIM Ghouls do not build. They are parasites and scavengers, eaters of carrion. The city they call Ghûlheim is something they found, long ago, but did not make. No one they call knows (if anyone human ever knew) what kind of creatures it was that made those buildings, who honeycombed the rock with tunnels and towers, but it is certain that no-one but the ghoul-folk could have wanted to stay there, or even to approach that place. Even from the path below Ghûlheim, even from miles away, Bod could see that all of the angles were wrong -- that the walls sloped crazily, that it was every nightmare he had ever endured made into a place, like a huge mouth of jutting teeth. It was a city that had been built just to be abandoned, in which all the fears and madnesses and revulsions of the creatures who built it were made into stone. The ghoul folk had found it and delighted in it and called it home. A dark and disjointed scent: smoke and black musk, bladderwrack, opopponax, galangal, and pepper. THE LADY ON THE GREY A huge white horse, of the kind that the people who know horses would call a "grey", came ambling up the side of the hill. The pounding of its hooves could be heard before it was seen, along with the crashing it made as it pushed through the little bushes and thickets, through the brambles and the ivy and the gorse that had grown up on the side of the hill. The size of a Shire horse it was, a full nineteen hands or more. It was a horse that could have carried a knight in full armour into combat, but all it carried on its naked back was a woman, clothed from head to foot in grey. Her long skirt and her shawl might have been spun out of old cobwebs. Her face was serene, and peaceful. They knew her, the graveyard folk, for each of us encounters the lady on the grey at the end of our days, and there is no forgetting her. The horse paused beside the obelisk. In the east the sky was lightening gently, a pearlish, pre-dawn luminescence that made the people of the graveyard uneasy and made them think about returning to their comfortable homes. Even so, not a one of them moved. They were watching the lady on the grey, each of them half-excited, half-scared. The dead are not superstitious, not as a rule, but they watched her as a Roman Augur might have watched the sacred crows circle, seeking wisdom, seeking a clue. And she spoke to them. In a voice like the chiming of a hundred tiny silver bells she said only, "The dead should have charity." And she smiled. Ethereal, opalescent, and radiant: pearly sandalwood, white amber, tobacco flower, orris, castoreum bouquet, soft resins, and pale petals. THE MACABRAY Mistress Owens pushed him out of the Owens's little tomb. "Get along with you," she said. "I've got business to attend to." Bod looked at his mother. "But it's cold out there," he said. "I should hope so," she said, "it being Winter. That's as it should be. Now," she said, more to herself than to Bod, "shoes. And look at this dress - it needs hemming. And cobwebs--there are cobwebs all over, for heaven's sakes. You get along," this to Bod once more. "I've plenty to be getting on with, and I don't need you underfoot." And then she sang to herself, a little couplet Bod had never heard before. "Rich man, poor man, come away. Come to dance the Macabray." "What's that?" asked Bod, but it was the wrong thing to have said, for Mistress Owens looked dark as a thundercloud, and Bod hurried out of the tomb before she could express her displeasure more forcefully. It was cold in the graveyard, cold and dark, and the stars were already out. Bod passed Mother Slaughter in the ivy-covered Egyptian Walk, squinting at the greenery. "Your eyes are younger than mine, young man," she said. "Can you see blossom?" "Blossom? In winter?" "Don't you look at me with that face on, young man," she said. "Things blossom in their time. They bud and bloom, blossom and fade. Everything in its time." She huddled deeper into her cloak and bonnet and she said, "Time to work and time to play, Time to dance the Macabray. Eh, boy?" "I don't know," said Bod. "What's the Macabray?" White winter flowers plucked from a snow-covered graveyard. MISS LUPESCU "Bod," said Silas. "This is Miss Lupescu." Miss Lupescu was not pretty. Her face was pinched and her expression was disapproving. Her hair was grey, although her face seemed too young for grey hair. Her front teeth were slightly crooked. She wore a bulky mackintosh, and a man's tie around her neck. "How do you do, Miss Lupescu?" said Bod. Miss Lupescu said nothing. She sniffed. Then she looked at Silas and said, "So. This is the boy." She got up from her seat and walked all around Bod, nostrils flared, as if she were sniffing him. When she had made a complete circuit, she said, "You will report to me on waking, and before you go to sleep. I have rented a room in a house over there." She pointed to a roof just visible from where they stood. "However, I shall spend my time in this graveyard. I am here as a historian, researching the history of old graves. You understand, boy? Da?" "Bod," said Bod. "It's Bod. Not boy." "Short for Nobody," she said. "A foolish name. Also, Bod is a pet name. A nickname. I do not approve. I will call you 'boy'. You will call me 'Miss Lupescu'." Bod looked up at Silas, pleadingly, but there was no sympathy on Silas's face. He picked up his bag and said, "You will be in good hands with Miss Lupescu, Bod. I am sure that the two of you will get on." "We won't!" said Bod. "She's horrible!" "That," said Silas, "Was a very rude thing to say. I think you should apologise, don't you?" Bod didn't, but Silas was looking at him and he was carrying his black bag, and about to leave for no-one knew how long, so he said, "I'm sorry Miss Lupescu." At first she said nothing in reply. She merely sniffed. Then she said, "I have come a long way to look after you, boy. I hope you are worth it." Animalic musk, with amber, patchouli, ho wood, cypress, almond blossom, golden sandalwood, and strange spices. THE OWENS' TOMB "I'll do no such thing, with Owens and me having a lovely little tomb over by the daffodil patch. Plenty of room in there for a little one." Marble and dust surrounded by burdock, knotweed, dandelions, daffodils, and long-dead calla lilies. THE POTTER'S FIELD Silas walked across the path without disturbing a fallen leaf, and sat down on the bench, beside Bod. "There are those," he said, in his silken voice, "who believe that all land is sacred. That it is sacred before we come to it, and sacred after. But here, in your land, they blessed the churches and the ground they set aside to bury people in, to make it holy. But they left land unconsecrated beside the sacred ground, potter's fields to bury the criminals and the suicides or those who were not of the faith." "So the people buried in the ground on the other side of the fence are bad people?" Silas raised one perfect eyebrow. "Mm? Oh, not at all. Let's see, it's been a while since I've been down that way. But I don't remember anyone particularly evil. Remember, in days gone by you could be hanged for stealing a shilling. And there are always people who find their lives have become so unsupportable they believe the best thing they could do would be to hasten their transition to another plane of existence." Rich loam, fragrant grasses, murky vetiver, wild herbs, and dry cedar bark. The artwork on the page is by the amazing Jennifer Rodgers! Thank you, Jennifer! The proceeds from every single bottle in this series go to the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund, which works to preserve and protect the First Amendment rights of the comics community! More Graveyard Book scents are in the works, so please do stay tuned! We at Black Phoenix hope you have the happiest and most horrific of Halloweens! May your candy bags overflow with candy, and your homes stay free of rotten eggs and wads of toilet paper! From the 13 October 2008 update: The Lunacy is live at BPAL and BPTP! ++ A LITTLE LUNACY MOURNING MOON As virtuous men pass mildly away, And whisper to their souls, to go, Whilst some of their sad friends do say, 'The breath goes now,' and some say, 'No:' So let us melt, and make no noise, No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move; 'Twere profanation of our joys To tell the laity our love. Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears; Men reckon what it did, and meant; But trepidation of the spheres, Though greater far, is innocent. Dull sublunary lovers' love (Whose soul is sense) cannot admit Absence, because it doth remove Those things which elemented it. But we by a love so much refin'd, That ourselves know not what it is, Inter-assured of the mind, Care less, eyes, lips, and hands to miss. Our two souls therefore, which are one, Though I must go, endure not yet A breach, but an expansion, Like gold to airy thinness beat. If they be two, they are two so As stiff twin compasses are two; Thy soul, the fix'd foot, makes no show To move, but doth, if the' other do. And though it in the centre sit, Yet when the other far doth roam, It leans, and hearkens after it, And grows erect, as that comes home. Such wilt thou be to me, who must Like th' other foot, obliquely run; Thy firmness makes my circle just, And makes me end, where I begun. Ethereal, somber, and woeful: Chinese musk, wisteria, white grapefruit, calla lily, violet leaf, orange, gaiac wood, balsam of Peru, and Florentine iris. We *love* this month's lunacy tee! --  Artwork by Jennifer Williamson! The Lunacy will be live on both sites until October 17 2008! I've got a crazybad head cold, and that can only mean one thing: autumn is upon is, and the Yule update is live! Ha HA! First, let's tackle what's new in the GC - Please give an enthusiastic round of applause and a warm welcome to all the Prince Charmings, Wicked Witches, Bitchy Stepsisters, and Fair Damsels in the crowd - Marchen is live! ++ MARCHEN: BEAUTY AND THE BEAST BELLE VINU There was once a very rich merchant, who had six children, three boys and three girls. As he was himself a man of great sense, he spared no expense for their education. The three daughters were all handsome, but particularly the youngest; indeed, she was so very beautiful, that in her childhood every one called her the Little Beauty; and being equally lovely when she was grown up, nobody called her by any other name, which made her sisters very jealous of her. This youngest daughter was not only more handsome than her sisters, but also was better tempered. The two eldest were vain of their wealth and position. They gave themselves a thousand airs, and refused to visit other merchants' daughters; nor would they condescend to be seen except with persons of quality. They went every day to balls, plays, and public walks, and always made game of their youngest sister for spending her time in reading or other useful employments. As it was well known that these young ladies would have large fortunes, many great merchants wished to get them for wives; but the two eldest always answered, that, for their parts, they had no thoughts of marrying any one below a duke or an earl at least. Beauty had quite as many offers as her sisters, but she always answered, with the greatest civility, that though she was much obliged to her lovers, she would rather live some years longer with her father, as she thought herself too young to marry. It happened that, by some unlucky accident, the merchant suddenly lost all his fortune, and had nothing left but a small cottage in the country. Upon this he said to his daughters, while the tears ran down his cheeks, "My children, we must now go and dwell in the cottage, and try to get a living by labour, for we have no other means of support." The two eldest replied that they did not know how to work, and would not leave town; for they had lovers enough who would be glad to marry them, though they had no longer any fortune. But in this they were mistaken; for when the lovers heard what had happened, they said, "The girls were so proud and ill-tempered, that all we wanted was their fortune: we are not sorry at all to see their pride brought down: let them show off their airs to their cows and sheep." But everybody pitied poor Beauty, because she was so sweet-tempered and kind to all, and several gentlemen offered to marry her, though she had not a penny; but Beauty still refused, and said she could not think of leaving her poor father in this trouble. At first Beauty could not help sometimes crying in secret for the hardships she was now obliged to suffer; but in a very short time she said to herself, "All the crying in the world will do me no good, so I will try to be happy without a fortune." Red sandalwood, vanilla, rosewood, osmanthus, and white peach. THE ROSE When they found that their father must take a journey to the ship, the two eldest begged he would not fail to bring them back some new gowns, caps, rings, and all sorts of trinkets. But Beauty asked for nothing; for she thought in herself that all the ship was worth would hardly buy everything her sisters wished for. "Beauty," said the merchant, "how comes it that you ask for nothing: what can I bring you, my child?" "Since you are so kind as to think of me, dear father," she answered, "I should be glad if you would bring me a rose, for we have none in our garden." Now Beauty did not indeed wish for a rose, nor anything else, but she only said this that she might not affront her sisters; otherwise they would have said she wanted her father to praise her for desiring nothing. The promise of a rose: red rose petals, fresh sap, and the sharp green scent of stem and leaf. ++ MARCHEN: EGLE, QUEEN OF SERPENTS EGLE In another time, long ago lived an old man and his wife. Both of them had twelve sons and three daughters. The youngest being named Egle. On a warm summer evening all three girls decided to go swimming. After splashing about with each other and bathing they climbed onto the riverbank to dress and groom their hair. But the youngest, Egle, only stared for a serpent had slithered into the sleeve of her blouse. What was she to do? The eldest girl grabbed Egle's blouse. She threw the blouse down and jumped on it, anything to get rid of the serpent. But the serpent turned to the youngest, Egle, and spoke to her in a man's voice: Egle, promise to become my bride and I will gladly come out. Egle began to cry how could she marry a serpent? Through her tears she answered: Please give me back my blouse and return from whence you came, in peace. But the serpent would not listen: Promise to become my bride and I will gladly come out. There was nothing else she could do; she promised the serpent to become his bride. Ocean water, hyacinth petals, star jasmine, and fir. When you return go alone, just you and the children and when you approach the beach then call for me: Zilvine, Zilvineli, If alive, may the sea foam milk If dead, may the sea foam blood... And if you see coming towards you foaming milk then know that I am still alive, but if blood comes then I have reached my end. While you, my children, let not the secret out, do not let anyone know how to call for me. THE SEA FOAMS MILK Milk cresting on an ocean wave. THE SEA FOAMS BLOOD Blood rising through an ocean wave. ++ MARCHEN: PRUNELLA PRUNELLA There was once upon a time a woman who had an only daughter. When the child was about seven years old she used to pass every day, on her way to school, an orchard where there was a wild plum tree, with delicious ripe plums hanging from the branches. Each morning the child would pick one, and put it into her pocket to eat at school. For this reason she was called Prunella. Now, the orchard belonged to a witch. One day the witch noticed the child gathering a plum, as she passed along the road. Prunella did it quite innocently, not knowing that she was doing wrong in taking the fruit that hung close to the roadside. But the witch was furious, and next day hid herself behind the hedge, and when Prunella came past, and put out her hand to pluck the fruit, she jumped out and seized her by the arm. 'Ah! you little thief!' she exclaimed. 'I have caught you at last. Now you will have to pay for your misdeeds.' Ripe purple plums, wildflowers, and cream. BENSIABEL As the years passed Prunella grew up into a very beautiful girl. Now her beauty and goodness, instead of softening the witch's heart, aroused her hatred and jealousy. One day she called Prunella to her, and said: 'Take this basket, go to the well, and bring it back to me filled with water. If you don't I will kill you.' The girl took the basket, went and let it down into the well again and again. But her work was lost labour. Each time, as she drew up the basket, the water streamed out of it. At last, in despair, she gave it up, and leaning against the well she began to cry bitterly, when suddenly she heard a voice at her side saying 'Prunella, why are you crying?' Turning round she beheld a handsome youth, who looked kindly at her, as if he were sorry for her trouble. 'Who are you,' she asked, 'and how do you know my name?' 'I am the son of the witch,' he replied, 'and my name is Bensiabel. I know that she is determined that you shall die, but I promise you that she shall not carry out her wicked plan. Will you give me a kiss, if I fill your basket?' 'No,' said Prunella, 'I will not give you a kiss, because you are the son of a witch.' 'Very well,' replied the youth sadly. 'Give me your basket and I will fill it for you.' And he dipped it into the well, and the water stayed in it. Then the girl returned to the house, carrying the basket filled with water. When the witch saw it, she became white with rage, and exclaimed 'Bensiabel must have helped you.' And Prunella looked down, and said nothing. Plum juice, lilac, leather, and a smattering of herbs. ++ MARCHEN: RAPUNZEL RAPUNZEL Rapunzel was the most beautiful child under the sun. When she was twelve years old the Witch shut her up in a tower, in the middle of a great wood, and the tower had neither stairs nor doors, only high up at the very top a small window. When the old Witch wanted to get in she stood underneath and called out: `Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your golden hair,' for Rapunzel had wonderful long hair, and it was as fine as spun gold. Whenever she heard the Witch's voice she unloosed her plaits, and let her hair fall down out of the window about twenty yards below, and the old Witch climbed up by it. Angel's trumpet, bois de rose, orris, and wild lettuce. THE WITCH'S GARDEN `What ails you, dear wife?' `Oh,' she answered, `if I don't get some rampion to eat out of the garden behind the house, I know I shall die.' The man, who loved her dearly, thought to himself, `Come! rather than let your wife die you shall fetch her some rampion, no matter the cost.' So at dusk he climbed over the wall into the witch's garden, and, hastily gathering a handful of rampion leaves, he returned with them to his wife. She made them into a salad, which tasted so good that her longing for the forbidden food was greater than ever. If she were to know any peace of mind, there was nothing for it but that her husband should climb over the garden wall again, and fetch her some more. So at dusk over he got, but when he reached the other side he drew back in terror, for there, standing before him, was the old witch. Morning glory vines twisting around a patch of rampion, carrot, and parsley, with monkshood, hemlock, elfwort, sage, wormwood, and mandrake. THORNS `Ah, ah! you thought to find your lady love, but the pretty bird has flown and its song is dumb; the cat caught it, and will scratch out your eyes too. Rapunzel is lost to you for ever--you will never see her more.' The Prince was beside himself with grief, and in his despair he jumped right down from the tower, and, though he escaped with his life, the thorns among which he fell pierced his eyes out. Then he wandered, blind and miserable, through the wood, eating nothing but roots and berries, and weeping and lamenting the loss of his lovely bride. Thorn-spiked vines, blood, and tears. ++ MARCHEN: RUMPELSTILZCHEN RUMPELSTILZCHEN I have not been able to find a single new name; but as I came over a high mountain by a wood, where the fox and the hare bid each other good-night, I saw a little house, and before the house was burning a little fire, and round the fire danced a very funny little man, who hopped upon one leg, and cried out: - "To-day I brew, to-morrow I bake, Next day the queen's child I shall take; How glad I am that nobody knows; My name is Rumpelstilzchen!" Firewood and ash with an oddly otherworldly blend of patchouli, cardamom, nutmeg, black pepper, tonka, vetiver, and myrrh. THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER There was once a miller who was very poor, but he had a beautiful daughter. Now, it happened that he came to speak to the king, and, to give himself importance, he said to him, "I have a daughter who can spin straw into gold." The king said to the miller, "That is a talent that pleases me well; if she be as skilful as you say, bring her to-morrow to the palace, and I will put her to the proof." When the maiden was brought to him, he led her to a room full of straw, gave her a wheel and spindle, and said, "Now set to work, and if by the morrow this straw be not spun into gold, you shall die." He locked the door, and left the maiden alone. Spun gold, tear-soaked straw, and rose-infused amber. ++ MARCHEN: THE SPARROW WITH THE SLIT TONGUE THE LITTLE SPARROW One day the old man was sitting in front of his cottage, as he was very fond of doing, when he saw flying towards him a little sparrow, followed by a big black raven. The poor little thing was very much frightened and cried out as it flew, and the great bird came behind it terribly fast, flapping its wings and craning its beak, for it was hungry and wanted some dinner. But as they drew near the old man, he jumped up, and beat back the raven, which mounted, with hoarse screams of disappointment, into the sky, and the little bird, freed from its enemy, nestled into the old man's hand, and he carried it into the house. He stroked its feathers, and told it not to be afraid, for it was quite safe; but as he still felt its heart beating, he put it into a cage, where it soon plucked up courage to twitter and hop about. The old man was fond of all creatures, and every morning he used to open the cage door, and the sparrow flew happily about until it caught sight of a cat or a rat or some other fierce beast, when it would instantly return to the cage, knowing that there no harm could come to it. Dusty seeds, sedge, brown amber, and sandalwood. SERPENTS WITH GLITTERING EYES AND FORKY TONGUES It was a long way to her own house, and the chest seemed to grow heavier at every step. Sometimes she felt as if it would be impossible for her to get on at all, but her greed gave her strength, and at last she arrived at her own door. She sank down on the threshold, overcome with weariness, but in a moment was on her feet again, fumbling with the lock of the chest. But by this time night had come, and there was no light in the house, and the woman was in too much hurry to get to her treasures, to go and look for one. At length, however, the lock gave way, and the lid flew open, when, O horror! instead of gold and jewels, she saw before her serpents with glittering eyes and forky tongues. And they twined themselves about her and darted poison into her veins, and she died, and no man regretted her. Serpentine green herbs, glistening red currant, sparkling yellow lemon rind, green musk, lime, and snakeskin. To access the full text of each tale, please click on the name of the story on the Marchen page! The Yule update is live, as is our winter subseries, Wind in the Willows! ++ LIMITED EDITION: YULE 2008 BUTTER RUM COOKIE A boozy addition to the devil's bake sale! Rum-soaked butter cookies, crusted with sugar, soaked in almond and garnished with orange rind. FRAU HOLLE Frau Holle, or Holda, is the personification of the changes wrought when winter seizes the land: she rides the chill winds in her chariot, shaking out her featherbeds in order to precipitate snowfall. The rolling fog is the smoke from her hearth fire, and thunder claps when she reels her flax. Holda is a goddess of matrons, who governs spinning, domestic chores, witchcraft and witches, and the Wild Hunt. She presides over the transition of souls, both to and from this world. Though she is childless, she watches over children, and the spirits of newborns spring forth from her sacred pool. Her festival falls during midwinter, when the dead roam free. She holds court in Hörselberg, from which the Wild Hunt is issued, and all the beasts in the land heed her call. Snow-covered pines, witches herbs, bestial musk, flax, and ethereal flowers that represent both birth and death. GELT Sevivon, sov, sov, sov Chanukah, hu chag tov Chanukah, hu chag tov Sevivon, sov, sov, sov! Chag simcha hu la-am Nes gadol haya sham Nes gadol haya sham Chag simcha hu la-am. A bounty of chocolate coins! Dry cocoa and golden amber! HANEROT HALALU Hanerot halalu anachnu madlikin Al hanissim ve'al haniflaot Al hatshu-ot ve'al hamilchamot She-asita la'avoteynu Bayamim hahem, bazman hazeh Al yedey kohanecha hakdoshim. Vechol shmonat yemey Chanukah Hanerot halalu kodesh hem, Ve-ein lanu reshut lehishtamesh bahem Ela lirotam bilvad Kedai lehodot leshimcha Al nissecha veal nifleotecha ve-al yeshuotecha. We light these lights For the miracles and the wonders, For the redemption and the battles That you made for our forefathers In those days at this season, Through your holy priests. During all eight days of Chanukah These lights are sacred And we are not permitted to make Ordinary use of them, But only to look at them; In order to express thanks And praise to your great Name For your miracles, your wonders And your salvations. Olive oil, beeswax, and smoke. THE HEAD OF HOLOFERNES And when it was grown late, his servants made haste to their lodgings, and Vagao shut the chamber doors, and went his way. And they were all overcharged with wine. And Judith was alone in the chamber. But Holofernes lay on his bed, fast asleep, being exceedingly drunk. And Judith spoke to her maid to stand without before the chamber, and to watch: And Judith stood before the bed praying with tears, and the motion of her lips in silence, Saying: Strengthen me, O Lord God of Israel, and in this hour look on the works of my hands, that as thou hast promised, thou mayst raise up Jerusalem thy city: and that I may bring to pass that which I have purposed, having a belief that it might be done by thee. And when she had said this, she went to the pillar that was at his bed's head, and loosed his sword that hung tied upon it. And when she had drawn it out, she took him by the hair of his head, and said: Strengthen me, O Lord God, at this hour. And she struck twice upon his neck, and out off his head, and took off his canopy from the pillars, and rolled away his headless body. And after a while she went out, and delivered the head of Holofernes to her maid, and bade her put it into her wallet. And they two went out according to their custom, as it were to prayer, and they passed the camp, and having compassed the valley, they came to the gate of the city. And Judith from afar off cried to the watchmen upon the walls: Open the gates for God is with us, who hath shewn his power in Israel. And it came to pass, when the men had heard her voice, that they called the ancients of the city. And all ran to meet her from the least to the greatest: for they now had no hopes that she would come. And lighting up lights they all gathered round about her: and she went up to a higher place, and commanded silence to be made. And when all had held their peace, Judith said: Praise ye the Lord our God, who hath not forsaken them that hope in him. And by me his handmaid he hath fulfilled his mercy, which he promised to the house of Israel: and he hath killed the enemy of his people by my hand this night. Then she brought forth the head of Holofernes out of the wallet, and shewed it them, saying: Behold the head of Holofernes the general of the army of the Assyrians, and behold his canopy, wherein he lay in his drunkenness, where the Lord our God slew him by the hand of a woman. Dried blood, boiled wine, leather, galbanum, onycha, tonka bean, and pomegranate. JACOB'S LADDER 2008 And Jacob went out from Beersheba, and went toward Haran. And he lighted upon a certain place, and tarried there all night, because the sun was set; and he took of the stones of that place, and put them for his pillows, and lay down in that place to sleep. And he dreamed, and behold a ladder set up on the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven: and behold the angels of God ascending and descending on it. And, behold, the Lord stood above it, and said, I am the Lord God of Abraham thy father, and the God of Isaac: the land whereon thou liest, to thee will I give it, and to thy seed; And thy seed shall be as the dust of the earth, and thou shalt spread abroad to the west, and to the east, and to the north, and to the south: and in thee and in thy seed shall all the families of the earth be blessed. And, behold, I am with thee, and will keep thee in all places whither thou goest, and will bring thee again into this land; for I will not leave thee, until I have done that which I have spoken to thee of. And Jacob awaked out of his sleep, and he said, Surely the Lord is in this place; and I knew it not. And he was afraid, and said, How dreadful is this place! this is none other but the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven. The meeting of Heaven and Earth: golden amber, galbanum, benzoin, ambrette, rockrose, costus and tonka. LARENTALIA The festival of Roman goddess of death, Larenta, who was also known as Dea Tacita, the Silent Goddess. Spells to silence and bind slanderous enemies were cast on her holy days, as were spells of closure and suppression. During this time, offerings to the dead are left on thresholds, where spirits are said to dwell. A Roman funeral garden: cypress, thyme, oleander, crocus, gladiola, amaranth, and myrtle shrouded by herbs and flowers sacred to the Silent One. LE PÈRE FOUETTARD Once upon a time, there lived a stone-hearted, evil butcher and his grasping, covetous wife. Their shop was located near a parochial boarding school in a small village in eastern France. One day, three little boys passed the butcher's shop. Their clothes were neat and starched, and the wicked couple fancied that they could see gold stitching on the little boys' shirtcuffs. The butcher's eyes gleamed with avarice, and he hatched an evil plan to rob the children. His wife enticed the little boys into the shop and fed them poisoned sweets. Her husband then slit their throats, chopped their little bodies into pieces, and put the pieces into barrels. Good Saint Nicholas discovered the monstrous crime, and, through God's grace, resurrected the little boys. He confronted the vile butcher and forced him to atone for his crime. The butcher became Le Père Fouettard, Saint Nicholas' partner on his Christmas travels. Dressed in a soot-covered black suit that mirrors Father Christmas' suit of red and white, he travels with Saint Nick and dispenses coal and floggings to naughty children. Whip leather, coal dust, gaufrette, and black licorice. LICK IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT Every holiday season should be full of lewd suggestions and filthy double entendres, right? Lick it in earnest! Lick it with vigor! Peppermint candy cane with an extra jolt of sugar. (As always, we have to state: don't lick perfume. Don't eat it, drink it, cook with it, or use it in any strange and unforeseen way. Black Phoenix is not responsible for that sort of irresponsible funnybusiness. For real. Don't lick it.) LINES WRITTEN AMONG THE EUGANEAN HILLS Senseless is the breast and cold Which relenting love would fold; Bloodless are the veins and chill Which the pulse of pain did fill; Every little living nerve That from bitter words did swerve Round the tortur'd lips and brow, Are like sapless leaflets now Frozen upon December's bough. Skin musk, white sandalwood, balsam fir, frozen black berries, cedar, winter rose, and white amber. THE MAGI Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judaea in the days of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem, Saying, Where is he that is born King of the Jews? for we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him. When Herod the king had heard these things, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him. And when he had gathered all the chief priests and scribes of the people together, he demanded of them where Christ should be born. And they said unto him, In Bethlehem of Judaea: for thus it is written by the prophet, And thou Bethlehem, in the land of Juda, art not the least among the princes of Juda: for out of thee shall come a Governor, that shall rule my people Israel. Then Herod, when he had privily called the wise men, inquired of them diligently what time the star appeared. And he sent them to Bethlehem, and said, Go and search diligently for the young child; and when ye have found him, bring me word again, that I may come and worship him also. When they had heard the king, they departed; and, lo, the star, which they saw in the east, went before them, till it came and stood over where the young child was. When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy. And when they were come into the house, they saw the young child with Mary his mother, and fell down, and worshipped him: and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts; gold, and frankincense, and myrrh. And being warned of God in a dream that they should not return to Herod, they departed into their own country another way. And when they were departed, behold, the angel of the Lord appeareth to Joseph in a dream, saying, Arise, and take the young child and his mother, and flee into Egypt, and be thou there until I bring thee word: for Herod will seek the young child to destroy him. When he arose, he took the young child and his mother by night, and departed into Egypt: And was there until the death of Herod: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken of the Lord by the prophet, saying, Out of Egypt have I called my son. Then Herod, when he saw that he was mocked of the wise men, was exceeding wroth, and sent forth, and slew all the children that were in Bethlehem, and in all the coasts thereof, from two years old and under, according to the time which he had diligently inquired of the wise men. Then was fulfilled that which was spoken by Jeremy the prophet, saying, In Rama was there a voice heard, lamentation, and weeping, and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children, and would not be comforted, because they are not. But when Herod was dead, behold, an angel of the Lord appeareth in a dream to Joseph in Egypt, Saying, Arise, and take the young child and his mother, and go into the land of Israel: for they are dead which sought the young child's life. And he arose, and took the young child and his mother, and came into the land of Israel. But when he heard that Archelaus did reign in Judaea in the room of his father Herod, he was afraid to go thither: notwithstanding, being warned of God in a dream, he turned aside into the parts of Galilee: And he came and dwelt in a city called Nazareth: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophets, He shall be called a Nazarene. An offering of frankincense, gold, and myrrh, with coriander, cumin, ambergris, white wine grape, and vanilla bean. Now as at all times I can see in the mind's eye, In their stiff, painted clothes, the pale unsatisfied ones Appear and disappear in the blue depth of the sky With all their ancient faces like rain-beaten stones, And all their helms of silver hovering side by side, And all their eyes still fixed, hoping to find once more, Being by Calvary's turbulence unsatisfied, The uncontrollable mystery on the bestial floor. MIDNIGHT MASS 2008 I will wash my hands among the innocent; and will compass thy altar, O Lord: That I may hear the voice of thy praise: and tell of all thy wondrous works. I have loved, O Lord, the beauty of thy house; and the place where thy glory dwelleth. Take not away my soul, O God, with the wicked: nor my life with bloody men: In whose hands are iniquities: their right hand is filled with gifts. But as for me, I have walked in my innocence: redeem me, and have mercy on me. My foot hath stood in the direct way: in the churches I will bless thee, O Lord. In Roman Catholic tradition, the Christmas season begins liturgically on Christmas Eve, though it is forbidden to celebrate the Christmas Mass before midnight. The most devout attend Midnight Mass, celebrating both the Eucharist and the drama of the Nativity. This perfume is a traditional Roman Catholic sacramental incense, most often used during a Solemn Mass. Traditionally, five tears of this incense, each encased individually in wax that has been fashioned into the shape of a nail, are inserted into the paschal candle. This is, of course, represents the Five Wounds of Our Risen Savior. Symbolically, the burning of the incense signifies spiritual fervor, the fragrance itself inspires virtue, and the rising smoke carries our prayers to God. Credo in unum Deum, Patrem omnipotentem, factorem caeli et terrae, visibilium omnium et invisibilium. Et in unum Dominum Iesum Christum, Filium Dei unigenitum, et ex Patre natum ante omnia saecula. Deum de Deo, Lumen de Lumine, Deum verum de Deo vero, genitum non factum, consubstantialem Patri; per quem omnia facta sunt. Qui propter nos homines et propter nostram salutem descendit de caelis. Et incarnatus est de Spiritu Sancto ex Maria Virgine, et homo factus est. Crucifixus etiam pro nobis sub Pontio Pilato, passus et sepultus est, et resurrexit tertia die, secundum Scripturas, et ascendit in caelum, sedet ad dexteram Patris. Et iterum venturus est cum gloria, iudicare vivos et mortuos, cuius regni non erit finis. Et in Spiritum Sanctum, Dominum et vivificantem, qui ex Patre procedit. Qui cum Patre et Filio simul adoratur et conglorificatur: qui locutus est per prophetas. Et unam, sanctam, catholicam et apostolicam Ecclesiam. Confiteor unum baptisma in remissionem peccatorum. Et expecto resurrectionem mortuorum, et vitam venturi saeculi. Amen. NUCLEAR WINTER 2008 Annihilation. The ice, desolation and barrenness of nuclear devastation shot through by a beam of radioactive mints. ON DARKNESS You darkness, that I come from, I love you more than all the fires that fence in the world, for the fire makes a circle of light for everyone, and then no one outside learns of you. But the darkness pulls in everything; shapes and fires, animals and myself, how easily it gathers them! -- powers and people -- and it is possible a great energy is moving near me. I have faith in nights. An embrace: black poppy, lavender, thick black incense, black amber, rose geranium, Brazilian rosewood, and benzoin. PERCHTA Perchta, the Shining One, is the Lady of the Beasts, an incarnation of the goddess Holda. She, too, leads the Wild Hunt, and is the protectress of wild animals, and appears to mortals as either a white-clad, white-skinned, white-haired beauty, or as a brutish, bestial hag. She is called Berhte Mit Dem Fuoze; one of her feet is shaped like a beast's, which gives away her superhuman nature no matter how she is disguised. She is also called Perchta the Belly-Slitter, for, at Yuletide, she castigates the wicked, slovenly, and idle, and rewards those that are generous, good-natured, and kind. The Belly-Slitter enforced community taboos, punishing those that spun during holy days and those who failed to partake in sacred feasts, thus jeopardizing the next year's harvest. Her punishments can be a bit over-the-top, though: they include disemboweling the transgressor and filling the empty cavity with refuse. Her scent is a blend of wild musk, snow, and alpine flora: Nigritella lithopolitanica, aconite, crocus, touch-me-not, edelweiss, Iris variegate, and violet. ROSE RED 2008 The perfected winter rose, dew covered and freshly cut. SNOW BUNNY 2008 Not so spooky, right? Here's to finally being able to hit the slopes again! Soft white powder snow with a touch of youthful girlie perfume. SNOW WHITE 2008 A chilly, bright perfume: flurries of virgin snow, crisp winter wind and the faintest breath of night-blooming flowers. SUGAR COOKIE 2008 Affectionately nicknamed 'The Devil's Bake Sale'. THERE'S A CERTAIN SLANT OF LIGHT There's a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons - That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes - Heavenly Hurt, it gives us - We can find no scar, But internal difference, Where the Meanings, are - None may teach it - Any - 'Tis the Seal Despair - An imperial affliction Sent us of the Air - When it comes, the Landscape listens - Shadows - hold their breath - When it goes, 'tis like the Distance On the look of Death - Thin, tinny ozone with frankincense, white sandalwood, white amber, hyssop, bitter violet leaf, and shadowy wisps of smoke. VISITING THE TEMPLE OF AUSPICIOUS FORTUNE ALONE ON THE WINTER SOLSTICE Deep at the bottom of the well no warmth has yet returned, The rain which sighs and feels so cold has dampened withered roots. What sort of man at such a time would come to visit the teacher? As this is not a time for flowers, I find I've come alone. Temple incense, rain, and dust. WINTER OF OUR DISCONTENT 2008 Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York; And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths; Our bruised arms hung up for monuments; Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front; And now, -- instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, -- He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I, -- that am not shap'd for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time Into this breathing world scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them; -- Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun, And descant on mine own deformity: And therefore, -- since I cannot prove a lover, To entertain these fair well-spoken days, -- I am determined to prove a villain, And hate the idle pleasures of these days. Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous, By drunken prophecies, libels, and dreams, To set my brother Clarence and the king In deadly hate the one against the other: And if King Edward be as true and just As I am subtle, false, and treacherous, This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up, -- About a prophecy which says that G Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be. Dive, thoughts, down to my soul... Embrace your villainy: balsam, myrrh, mandarin orange, bitter clove, artemesia, rosewood, nutmeg, dark musk, smoke and cypress. ++ LIMITED EDITION: THE WIND IN THE WILLOWS ALL THEY HAD SEEN, AND ALL THEY HAD LOST As they stared blankly in dumb misery deepening as they slowly realised all they had seen and all they had lost, a capricious little breeze, dancing up from the surface of the water, tossed the aspens, shook the dewy roses and blew lightly and caressingly in their faces; and with its soft touch came instant oblivion. For this is the last best gift that the kindly demi-god is careful to bestow on those to whom he has revealed himself in their helping: the gift of forgetfulness. Lest the awful remembrance should remain and grow, and overshadow mirth and pleasure, and the great haunting memory should spoil all the after-lives of little animals helped out of difficulties, in order that they should be happy and lighthearted as before. Mist and dewy roses, aspen leaves, and translucent yellow blossoms. BADGER "How on earth, Badger." he said at last, "did you ever find time and strength to do all this? It's astonishing!" "It would be astonishing indeed," said the Badger simply, "if I had done it. But as a matter of fact I did none of it only cleaned out the passages and chambers, as far as I had need of them. There's lots more of it, all round about. I see you don't understand, and I must explain it to you. Well, very long ago, on the spot where the Wild Wood waves now, before ever it had planted itself and grown up to what it now is, there was a city a city of people, you know. Here, where we are standing, they lived, and walked, and talked, and slept, and carried on their business. Here they stabled their horses and feasted, from here they rode out to fight or drove out to trade. They were a powerful people, and rich, and great builders. They built to last, for they thought their city would last for ever." "But what has become of them all?'" asked the Mole. "Who can tell?" said the Badger. "People come they stay for a while, they flourish, they build and they go. It is their way. But we remain. There were badgers here, I've been told, long before that same city ever came to be. And now there are badgers here again. We are an enduring lot, and we may move out for a time, but we wait, and are patient, and back we come. And so it will ever be." Warm earth, deep-reaching roots, dark myrrh, galangal, and Atlas cedar. THE GAOLER'S DAUGHTER Now the gaoler had a daughter, a pleasant wench and good-hearted, who assisted her father in the lighter duties of his post. She was particularly fond of animals, and, besides her canary, whose cage hung on a nail in the massive wall of the keep by day, to the great annoyance of prisoners who relished an after-dinner nap, and was shrouded in an antimacassar on the parlour table at night, she kept several piebald mice and a restless revolving squirrel. This kind-hearted girl, pitying the misery of Toad, said to her father one day, "Father! I can't bear to see that poor beast so unhappy, and getting so thin! You let me have the managing of him. You know how fond of animals I am. I'll make him eat from my hand, and sit up, and do all sorts of things." Gardenia, neroli, and white peach with vanilla amber, cream, and honey. MOLE The Mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring-cleaning his little home. First with brooms, then with dusters; then on ladders and steps and chairs, with a brush and a pail of whitewash; till he had dust in his throat and eyes, and splashes of whitewash all over his black fur, and an aching back and weary arms. Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth below and around him, penetrating even his dark and lowly little house with its spirit of divine discontent and longing. Antiqued sandalwood, patchouli, and soft mosses. NOWHERE IN PARTICULAR Late in the evening, tired and happy and miles from home, they drew up on a remote common far from habitations, turned the horse loose to graze, and ate their simple supper sitting on the grass by the side of the cart. Toad talked big about all he was going to do in the days to come, while stars grew fuller and larger all around them, and a yellow moon, appearing suddenly and silently from nowhere in particular, came to keep them company and listen to their talk. The scent of a moonlit night on the road, orchards in the distance, and swirling dust. THE PIPER AT THE GATES OF DAWN Perhaps he would never have dared to raise his eyes, but that, though the piping was now hushed, the call and the summons seemed still dominant and imperious. He might not refuse, were Death himself waiting to strike him instantly, once he had looked with mortal eye on things rightly kept hidden. Trembling he obeyed, and raised his humble head; and then, in that utter clearness of the imminent dawn, while Nature, flushed with fullness of incredible colour, seemed to hold her breath for the event, he looked in the very eyes of the Friend and Helper; saw the backward sweep of the curved horns, gleaming in the growing daylight; saw the stern, hooked nose between the kindly eyes that were looking down on them humourously, while the bearded mouth broke into a half-smile at the corners; saw the rippling muscles on the arm that lay across the broad chest, the long supple hand still holding the pan-pipes only just fallen away from the parted lips; saw the splendid curves of the shaggy limbs disposed in majestic ease on the sward; saw, last of all, nestling between his very hooves, sleeping soundly in entire peace and contentment, the little, round, podgy, childish form of the baby otter. All this he saw, for one moment breathless and intense, vivid on the morning sky; and still, as he looked, he lived; and still, as he lived, he wondered. Sublime peace, ecstatic joy, and thunderstruck awe: terebinth pine, patchouli, brown musk, linden blossom, honey, mallow, blood orange, heliotrope, and golden amber. RAT During luncheon -- which was excellent, of course, as everything at Toad Hall always was -- the Toad simply let himself go. Disregarding the Rat, he proceeded to play upon the inexperienced Mole as on a harp. Naturally a voluble animal, and always mastered by his imagination, he painted the prospects of the trip and the joys of the open life and the roadside in such glowing colours that the Mole could hardly sit in his chair for excitement. Somehow, it soon seemed taken for granted by all three of them that the trip was a settled thing; and the Rat, though still unconvinced in his mind, allowed his good-nature to override his personal objections. He could not bear to disappoint his two friends, who were already deep in schemes and anticipations, planning out each day's separate occupation for several weeks ahead. Orangewood, pine, wood moss, and vetiver. THE SEA RAT "Right," replied the stranger. "I 'm a seafaring rat, I am, and the port I originally hail from is Constantinople, though I 'm a sort of a foreigner there too, in a manner of speaking. You will have heard of Constantinople, friend? A fair city and an ancient and glorious one. And you may have heard too, of Sigurd, King of Norway, and how he sailed thither with sixty ships, and how he and his men rode up through streets all canopied in their honour with purple and gold; and how the Emperor and Empress came down and banqueted with him on board his ship. When Sigurd returned home, many of his Northmen remained behind and entered the Emperor's body-guard, and my ancestor, a Norwegian born, stayed behind too, with the ships that Sigurd gave the Emperor. Seafarers we have ever been, and no wonder; as for me, the city of my birth is no more my home than any pleasant port between there and the London River. I know them all, and they know me. Set me down on any of their quays or foreshores, and I am home again." "I suppose you go great voyages," said the Water Rat with growing interest. "Months and months out of sight of land, and provisions running short, and allowanced as to water, and your mind communing with the mighty ocean, and all that sort of thing?" "By no means," said the Sea Rat frankly. "Such a life as you describe would not suit me at all. I 'm in the coasting trade, and rarely out of sight of land. It's the jolly times on shore that appeal to me, as much as any seafaring. O, those southern seaports! The smell of them, the riding-lights at night, the glamour!" Seaweed, ambergris, and sea buckthorn berry with exotic herbs, incense smoke, ship wood, and Burmese musk. TOAD " It's never the wrong time to call on Toad. Early or late, he's always the same fellow. Always good-tempered, always glad to see you, always sorry when you go!" "He must be a very nice animal," observed the Mole, as he got into the boat and took the sculls, while the Rat settled himself comfortably in the stern. "He is indeed the best of animals," replied Rat. "So simple, so good-natured, and so affectionate. Perhaps he's not very clever -- we can't all be geniuses; and it may be that he is both boastful and conceited. But he has got some great qualities, has Toady." Dapper cologne, scorched waistcoat, a bit of pipe tobacco, and motor oil. TOAD HALL will be available at the Black Phoenix booth at Bat's Day Black Market along with a Toady commemorative tee! Please stop by if you can! In other news Please welcome our newest authorized retailers: Whole Foods Market 3100 Cahaba Village Plaza Birmingham, AL 35243 (205)912-8400 Whole Foods Market 3540 Wade Ave Raleigh NC 27607 (919)828-1589 and for for UK customers: Posh Brats Ltd 13 Swan Bank Congleton, Cheshire CW12 1AN UK 01260 290555 They have joined our happy family of retail outlets -- Nail Polish Etc. 132 E. Main St Palmyra, PA 17078 (717)832-3388 (Home of East Coast Will Call!) Whole Foods Market aka Harry's Farmer's Market 1180 Upper Hembree Rd. Roswell, GA (770)664-6300 Whole Foods 5945 State Bridge Road Duluth, GA 30097 (678)514-2400 Whole Foods Market 81 S. Elliott Rd Chapel Hill, NC 27514 (919)968-1983 Healthy Living Market 222 Dorset Street South Burlington, VT 05403 (802)863-2569 Le Pink&Co 3820 W. Sunset Blvd Los Angeles, CA 90026 (323)661-7465 Stop by and show them some love! More this n'that -- Coming soon to BPAL - the Graveyard Book series! It is a wonderful, sweet, spooky story, and we are thrilled to have the opportunity to work with Neil again! We will, hopefully, be ready to go when the UK release date happens! The FAQ and Media sections on the site need some serious updating. Someday, someday. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand . The Inquisition will be rearing its head at Black Phoenix Trading Post in about two weeks or so. Also comin' to the post in the next few months bath powders, new garments, new lockets, pendants, and a whole heap of shiny, fun stuff! From the 15 September 2008 update: Your humble narrator is falling asleep sitting up. Lilith is 13 days old, and it feels like we haven't slept in 13 years! Meanwhile, back at the ranch... Blood Moon 2008 is live! In October, the crop harvest has past, and all hands turn to the Hunt: the third and final harvest before winter. Blood Moon shines over huntsmen as they ride over reaped grain in pursuit of their prey. In Christian mythology, Blood Moon may have a darker significance: "And I looked when He broke the sixth seal, and there was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth made of hair, and the whole moon became like blood; and the stars of the sky fell to the earth, as a fig tree casts its unripe figs when shaken by a great wind." -- Revelation 6:12-13 The feral scent of the heat of the chase, deep woods, undulating musks, brushed by forest flora, swirled in the incense of the anointed cherub that covereth, and touched by blood-dimmed lunar oils.  The MVJBA has also posted an update! Sorry to send you guys on an Easter Egg hunt for the MVJBA details, but I can't type anymore -- my face is about to smack down on the keyboard. Hard. From the 14 August 2008: Its pretty much T minus zero til Baby Barrial pops, and as such, your faithful narrator is a little brain fried! Add a little SoCal August humidity to the mix, and you've got yourself a preggo zombie. So, rather than babble nonsensically (as I am starting to do), let's get straight to the update schtuff! - Harvest Moon is live at BPAL and BPTP! HARVEST MOON 2008 Harvest Moon is celebrated in almost every culture, and the bounty of the season is marked in a myriad of ways. Harvest Moon touches the Equinox, the festival of Janus, the culmination of Homowo, the "crying of the neck" in Cornwall, and the Women's Festival of the Moon. This is a day that celebrates abundance and beauty, fertility and progress, and the light of this full moon blesses new undertakings and reunites lost loves. The Harvest Moon, by definition, is the Full Moon that falls closest to the Autumnal Equinox, and thus, it shares some of that Sabbat's characteristics. This Full Moon was thus named because it rises within half an hour of the sun's setting, in the Northern Hemisphere, and at this time farmers are able to work longer into the night by the light of this Moon. As the year draws to a close, the Full Moon rises an average of fifty minutes later each night, with the exception of a few nights surrounding the Harvest Moon, which only rises 10-30 minutes later. This moon is also, to the human eye, the fullest and largest of the year's Moons, hanging gloriously huge, yellow and low in the night sky, and many lunar illusions play tricks our eyes at this time. The Harvest ushers in many celebrations, including the Equinox and the Festival of Janus, God of Doors. Janus is the Roman Lord of Gateways, beginnings and endings, and transitions. Thus, the Harvest Moon is a time for blessing new ventures, the onset of new and progressive phases in one's life, and rites of passage into adulthood. This time of year also marks one of the Festivals of Dionysus, Lord of Ecstasy and the Vine. This Harvest lunacy combines the autumnal scents of balsam fir, cedar, juniper berry, clove, saffron, damson plum, sage, black cherry, and fennel with the crushed wine grapes of Dionysus and Janus' lingum aloes.  Also in our LE section this month HELLHOUND ON MY TRAIL blues falling down like hail And the day keeps on remindin' me, there's a hellhound on my trail August 16th marks the day the Devil came to call on the King of the Delta Blues. Bay rum, bourbon vanilla, galangal, hyssop, High John the Conqueror root, tobacco, life everlasting, and brimstone. Aaaaaand its that time of year again! Halloween at Black Phoenix! - ++ HALLOWEENIE 2008 A BLADE OF GRASS Said a blade of grass to an autumn leaf, "You make such a noise falling! You scatter all my winter dreams." Said the leaf indignant, "Low-born and low-dwelling! Songless, peevish thing! You live not in the upper air and you cannot tell the sound of singing." Then the autumn leaf lay down upon the earth and slept. And when spring came she waked again -- and she was a blade of grass. And when it was autumn and her winter sleep was upon her, and above her through all the air the leaves were falling, she muttered to herself, "O these autumn leaves! They make such a noise! They scatter all my winter dreams." Autumn leaves scattered among blades of grass. AUTUMN COOLNESS Heat lingers As days are still long; Early mornings are cool While autumn is still young. Dew on the lotus Scatters pure perfume; Wind on the bamboos Gives off a gentle tinkling. I am idle and lonely, Lying down all day, Sick and decayed; No one asks for me; Thin dusk before my gates, Cassia blossoms inch deep. The scent of wisteria, Cymbidium, lotus blossom, and cassia buds drifting on a breeze through gently swaying bamboo reeds. JOHN BARLEYCORN There was three men come out o' the west their fortunes for to try, And these three men made a solemn vow, John Barleycorn must die, They plowed, they sowed, they harrowed him in, throwed clods upon his head, And these three men made a solemn vow, John Barleycorn was dead. Barley, beer, blood, and whiskey. CHANT D'AUTOMNE I Bientôt nous plongerons dans les froides ténèbres; Adieu, vive clarté de nos étés trop courts! J'entends déjà tomber avec des chocs funèbres Le bois retentissant sur le pavé des cours. Tout l'hiver va rentrer dans mon être: colère, Haine, frissons, horreur, labeur dur et forcé, Et, comme le soleil dans son enfer polaire, Mon coeur ne sera plus qu'un bloc rouge et glacé. J'écoute en frémissant chaque bûche qui tombe L'échafaud qu'on bâtit n'a pas d'écho plus sourd. Mon esprit est pareil à la tour qui succombe Sous les coups du bélier infatigable et lourd. Il me semble, bercé par ce choc monotone, Qu'on cloue en grande hâte un cercueil quelque part. Pour qui? — C'était hier l'été; voici l'automne! Ce bruit mystérieux sonne comme un départ. II J'aime de vos longs yeux la lumière verdâtre, Douce beauté, mais tout aujourd'hui m'est amer, Et rien, ni votre amour, ni le boudoir, ni l'âtre, Ne me vaut le soleil rayonnant sur la mer. Et pourtant aimez-moi, tendre coeur! soyez mère, Même pour un ingrat, même pour un méchant; Amante ou soeur, soyez la douceur éphémère D'un glorieux automne ou d'un soleil couchant. Courte tâche! La tombe attend; elle est avide! Ah! laissez-moi, mon front posé sur vos genoux, Goûter, en regrettant l'été blanc et torride, De l'arrière-saison le rayon jaune et doux! - - - I Soon we will sink in the frigid darkness Good-bye, brightness of our too short summers! I already hear the fall in distress Of the wood falling in the paved courtyard. Winter will invade my being: anger, Hatred, chills, horror, hard and forced labor, And, like the sun in its iced inferno, My heart is but a red and frozen floe. I hear with shudders each weak limb that falls. The scaffold will have no louder echo. My spirit is like a tower that yields Under the tireless and heavy ram blow. It seems, lulled by this monotonous sound, Somewhere a coffin is hastily nailed, For whom? Summer yesterday, autumn now! This mysterious noise sounds like a farewell. II I love the greenish light of your long eyes, Sweet beauty, but all is bitter today. Nothing, not love, the boudoir or the hearth Is dearer than the sunshine on the sea. Still love me, tender heart! Be a mother Even to the ingrate, to the wicked, Lover, sister, ephemeral sweetness Of fall's glory or of the setting sun. Short-lived task! The tomb awaits, merciless. Ah! Let me, my head resting on your knees, Savor, regretting the white hot summer, The autumn's last rays yellow and tender. The scent of the year's fall and the setting sun, ominous and foreboding: dried leaves, charred wood, blood musk, amber, khus, and Nicotiana tabacum. DAY OF THE SKULLS In Bolivia, many people hold to the tradition of keeping the skulls of their ancestors with them in their homes, caring for their remains. It is believed that each person has seven souls, and one of those souls stays with the skull after death, enabling a spirit to grant protection and prophetic dreams to their descendants, and to bless their families with good health and prosperity. The Bolivian Fiesta de las Ñatitas, or Dia de los Ñatitas, is a day of honor for these ancestors. Their skulls are dressed with fragrant blossoms, and offerings of cocoa leaves, alcohol, and cigarettes are made. White sandalwood, beeswax, and frankincense crowned by hydrangea, rose, and kantuta blossoms, dressed with tobacco, cocoa leaves and flowers from the sacred Cactus of the Four Winds. GRAVEYARD DIRT 2008 A tribute to a somewhat nefarious and truly notorious ingredient in New Orleans spellcrafting. It is employed in hoodoo rootwork for various reasons, primarily in spells of protection, "tricking" your enemies, binding, and even love magick. The graves are chosen based on the type of working, and are determined by the type of spirit that lies there and the manner of their demise. Payment is always required in the form of offerings to the deceased. This is the scent of pure graveyard dust, spattered with grave loam and dusted lightly with tombstone moss. HUESOS DE SANTO On All Saints Day, Spanish families visit their loved ones in the cemeteries, keeping vigil throughout the evening, saying prayers for the dead. Family burial plots are cleaned and tended, and graves are adorned with gladiolas, chrysanthemums, and roses. Bone-shaped pastries called Saint's Bones, or the Bones of the Holy, are baked and shared in honor of the souls in Purgatory, and to remind us of those who no longer share our repast, but with whom we one day hope to be reunited with again. Orange-glazed cake, dotted with anise seed, and filled with custard, set beside a bouquet of celebratory funeral flowers. MEDITATION IN AUTUMN Withered vines, gnarled trees, twilight crows, river flowing beneath the little bridge, past someone's home. The wind blows from the west where the sun sets, it blows across the ancient road, across the bony horse across the despairing man who stands at heaven's edge. A desolate scent, dusty, bleak, and withered: old wood, burnt brown sandalwood, and twisted vines. MICTECACIHUATL Known as the Mistress of Bones and the Lady of the Dead, she is the Queen of Mictlan, the Aztec Underworld, who still presides over today's Day of the Dead rituals. Sometimes known now as La Huesuda, she brings peace and joy to the spirits of the deceased, and blesses the living who do honor to those who have passed before them. Copal, precious woods, South American spices, agave nectar, cigar tobacco, and roses. SAMHAIN 2008 Truly the scent of autumn itself -- damp woods, fir needle, and black patchouli with the gentlest touches of warm pumpkin, clove, nutmeg, allspice, sweet red apple and mullein. STICKY PILLOWCASE Terminal sugar rush. A little goblin's candy bag, upended. Smushed candy corn, rock candy dust, marshmallow gunk, strawberry goo, spun blue sugar, globs of salt water taffy, and lint. SUGAR SKULL 2008 Vibrant with the joy and sweetness of life in death! A blend of five sugars, lightly dusted with candied fruits. TO AUTUMN Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run; To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells. Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor, Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind; Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep, Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers: And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep Steady thy laden head across a brook; Or by a cyder-press, with patient look, Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours. Where are the songs of spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, - While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows, borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft The red-breat whistles from a garden-croft; And gathering swallows twitter in the skies. Mist and mellow fruitfulness: mist-swirled, moss-covered bark and dry red leaves, apple pulp and knotty galangal, with poppy juice and nutmeat. ++ PUMPKIN PATCH The 'Patch is back, with five new pumpkin blends to choose from. Pick individual pumpkins from the field, or snatch up the whole bushel! PUMPKIN I Pumpkin with mango, persimmon, coconut, and myrrh. PUMPKIN II Pumpkin with black musk, leather accord, tonka, teak, orange wood, and opoponax. PUMPKIN III Pumpkin with pink grapefruit, lemon verbena, yuzu, lime, parsley, and mint. PUMPKIN IV Pumpkin with white sage, cherry tobacco, honey, smoky vanilla, cedar, and pine. PUMPKIN V Pumpkin with cranberry, strawberry, red musk, red rose, rosehip, frankincense, fig, jasmine, and carnation. PUMPKIN PLUNDER If you purchase Pumpkin Plunder, you will receive an imp of Needle in a Haystack: a scent created to compliment and complete the collection. Needle in a Haystack Hay absolute, sun-baked pumpkin rind, twisting vines, and the tiniest sparkle of gleaming metal. Label artwork for the Halloweenies, Pumpkin Patch, and Hellhound by our beloved Jennifer Williamson! But wait! - there's more! This autumn, we are paying a visit to the quiet eastern shore of the Hudson River with a Limited Edition subseries inspired by the Legend of Sleepy Hollow by Washington Irving:  ++ SLEEPY HOLLOW BROM BONES Among these the most formidable was a burly, roaring, roystering blade, of the name of Abraham, or, according to the Dutch abbreviation, Brom Van Brunt, the hero of the country round, which rang with his feats of strength and hardihood. He was broad-shouldered and double-jointed, with short curly black hair, and a bluff, but not unpleasant countenance, having a mingled air of fun and arrogance. From his Herculean frame and great powers of limb, he had received the nickname of BROM BONES, by which he was universally known. He was famed for great knowledge and skill in horsemanship, being as dexterous on horseback as a Tartar. He was foremost at all races and cock-fights; and, with the ascendancy which bodily strength acquires in rustic life, was the umpire in all disputes, setting his hat on one side, and giving his decisions with an air and tone admitting of no gainsay or appeal. He was always ready for either a fight or a frolic; but had more mischief than ill-will in his composition; and, with all his overbearing roughness, there was a strong dash of waggish good humor at bottom. He had three or four boon companions, who regarded him as their model, and at the head of whom he scoured the country, attending every scene of feud or merriment for miles round. In cold weather he was distinguished by a fur cap, surmounted with a flaunting fox's tail; and when the folks at a country gathering descried this well-known crest at a distance, whisking about among a squad of hard riders, they always stood by for a squall. Sometimes his crew would be heard dashing along past the farmhouses at midnight, with whoop and halloo, like a troop of Don Cossacks; and the old dames, startled out of their sleep, would listen for a moment till the hurry-scurry had clattered by, and then exclaim, "Ay, there goes Brom Bones and his gang!" The neighbors looked upon him with a mixture of awe, admiration, and good will; and when any madcap prank, or rustic brawl, occurred in the vicinity, always shook their heads, and warranted Brom Bones was at the bottom of it. The butchest, manliest of musks covered in well-worn leather. THE CHURCHYARD The sequestered situation of this church seems always to have made it a favorite haunt of troubled spirits. It stands on a knoll, surrounded by locust-trees and lofty elms, from among which its decent whitewashed walls shine modestly forth, like Christian purity beaming through the shades of retirement. A gentle slope descends from it to a silver sheet of water, bordered by high trees, between which, peeps may be caught at the blue hills of the Hudson. To look upon its grass-grown yard, where the sunbeams seem to sleep so quietly, one would think that there at least the dead might rest in peace. On one side of the church extends a wide woody dell, along which raves a large brook among broken rocks and trunks of fallen trees. Over a deep black part of the stream, not far from the church, was formerly thrown a wooden bridge; the road that led to it, and the bridge itself, were thickly shaded by overhanging trees, which cast a gloom about it, even in the daytime; but occasioned a fearful darkness at night. This was one of the favorite haunts of the headless horseman; and the place where he was most frequently encountered. Overgrown dark green bullrush, midnight roses, dwarf St. John's Wort, frankincense, blackberry leaf, and moss-covered, half-buried tree bark. ICHABOD CRANE The cognomen of Crane was not inapplicable to his person. He was tall, but exceedingly lank, with narrow shoulders, long arms and legs, hands that dangled a mile out of his sleeves, feet that might have served for shovels, and his whole frame most loosely hung together. His head was small, and flat at top, with huge ears, large green glassy eyes, and a long snipe nose, so that it looked like a weather-cock, perched upon his spindle neck, to tell which way the wind blew. To see him striding along the profile of a hill on a windy day, with his clothes bagging and fluttering about him one might have mistaken him for the genius of famine descending upon the earth, or some scarecrow eloped from a cornfield. . . . From his half itinerant life, also, he was a kind of travelling gazette, carrying the whole budget of local gossip from house to house; so that his appearance was always greeted with satisfaction. He was, moreover, esteemed by the women as a man of great erudition, for he had read several books quite through, and was a perfect master of Cotton Mather's history of New England Witchcraft, in which, by the way, he most firmly and potently believed. He was, in fact, an odd mixture of small shrewdness and simple credulity. His appetite for the marvellous, and his powers of digesting it, were equally extraordinary; and both had been increased by his residence in this spellbound region. No tale was too gross or monstrous for his capacious swallow. It was often his delight, after his school was dismissed in the afternoon, to stretch himself on the rich bed of clover, bordering the little brook that whimpered by his school-house, and there con over old Mather's direful tales, until the gathering dusk of the evening made the printed page a mere mist before his eyes. Then, as he wended his way, by swamp and stream and awful woodland, to the farmhouse where he happened to be quartered, every sound of nature, at that witching hour, fluttered his excited imagination: the moan of the whip-poor-will from the hill-side; the boding cry of the tree-toad, that harbinger of storm; the dreary hooting of the screech-owl, or the sudden rustling in the thicket of birds frightened from their roost. The fire-flies, too, which sparkled most vividly in the darkest places, now and then startled him, as one of uncommon brightness would stream across his path; and if, by chance, a huge blockhead of a beetle came winging his blundering flight against him, the poor varlet was ready to give up the ghost, with the idea that he was struck with a witch's token. His only resource on such occasions, either to drown thought, or drive away evil spirits, was to sing psalm tunes;-and the good people of Sleepy Hollow, as they sat by their doors of an evening, were often filled with awe, at hearing his nasal melody, "in linked sweetness long drawn out," floating from the distant hill, or along the dusky road. Dusty black wool, tea with cream, black pepper, muguet, and beeswax candle drippings. FEARFUL PLEASURE Another of his sources of fearful pleasure was, to pass long winter evenings with the old Dutch wives, as they sat spinning by the fire, with a row of apples roasting and spluttering along the hearth, and listen to their marvellous tales of ghosts and goblins, and haunted fields, and haunted brooks, and haunted bridges, and haunted houses, and particularly of the headless horseman, or galloping Hessian of the Hollow, as they sometimes called him. He would delight them equally by his anecdotes of witchcraft, and of the direful omens and portentous sights and sounds in the air, which prevailed in the earlier times of Connecticut; and would frighten them woefully with speculations upon comets and shooting stars; and with the alarming fact that the world did absolutely turn round, and that they were half the time topsy-turvy! Dried orange peels floating in simmering cider, roasted apples, smoldering firewood, chimney smoke, sassafras beer, warm hawthorn wood, and oakmoss. THE GOBLIN RIDER In the dark shadow of the grove, on the margin of the brook, he beheld something huge, misshapen, black and towering. It stirred not, but seemed gathered up in the gloom, like some gigantic monster ready to spring upon the traveller. The hair of the affrighted pedagogue rose upon his head with terror. What was to be done? To turn and fly was now too late; and besides, what chance was there of escaping ghost or goblin, if such it was, which could ride upon the wings of the wind? Summoning up, therefore, a show of courage, he demanded in stammering accents-"Who are you?" He received no reply. He repeated his demand in a still more agitated voice. Still there was no answer. Once more he cudgelled the sides of the inflexible Gunpowder, and, shutting his eyes, broke forth with involuntary fervor into a psalm tune. Just then the shadowy object of alarm put itself in motion, and, with a scramble and a bound, stood at once in the middle of the road. Though the night was dark and dismal, yet the form of the unknown might now in some degree be ascertained. He appeared to be a horseman of large dimensions, and mounted on a black horse of powerful frame. He made no offer of molestation or sociability, but kept aloof on one side of the road, jogging along on the blind side of old Gunpowder, who had now got over his fright and waywardness. Ichabod, who had no relish for this strange midnight companion, and bethought himself of the adventure of Brom Bones with the Galloping Hessian, now quickened his steed, in hopes of leaving him behind. The stranger, however, quickened his horse to an equal pace. Ichabod pulled up, and fell into a walk, thinking to lag behind-the other did the same. His heart began to sink within him; he endeavored to resume his psalm tune, but his parched tongue clove to the roof of his mouth, and he could not utter a stave. There was something in the moody and dogged silence of this pertinacious companion, that was mysterious and appalling. It was soon fearfully accounted for. On mounting a rising ground, which brought the figure of his fellow-traveller in relief against the sky, gigantic in height, and muffled in a cloak, Ichabod was horror-struck, on perceiving that he was headless!-but his horror was still more increased, on observing that the head, which should have rested on his shoulders, was carried before him on the pommel of the saddle; his terror rose to desperation; he rained a shower of kicks and blows upon Gunpowder; hoping, by a sudden movement, to give his companion the slip-but the spectre started full jump with him. Away then they dashed, through thick and thin; stones flying, and sparks flashing at every bound. Ichabod's flimsy garments fluttered in the air, as he stretched his long lanky body away over his horse's head, in the eagerness of his flight. The scent of fear, and terrifying pursuit: wind-whipped, chilly night air, oppressive black pine, globs of dark opopponax, and bleak cedar, and distant, unreachable church incense. GUNPOWDER That he might make his appearance before his mistress in the true style of a cavalier, he borrowed a horse from the farmer with whom he was domiciliated, a choleric old Dutchman, of the name of Hans Van Ripper, and, thus gallantly mounted, issued forth, like a knight-errant in quest of adventures. But it is meet I should, in the true spirit of romantic story, give some account of the looks and equipments of my hero and his steed. The animal he bestrode was a broken-down plough-horse, that had outlived almost every thing but his viciousness. He was gaunt and shagged, with a ewe neck and a head like a hammer; his rusty mane and tail were tangled and knotted with burrs; one eye had lost its pupil, and was glaring and spectral; but the other had the gleam of a genuine devil in it. Still he must have had fire and mettle in his day, if we may judge from the name he bore of Gunpowder. He had, in fact, been a favorite steed of his master's, the choleric Van Ripper, who was a furious rider, and had infused, very probably, some of his own spirit into the animal; for, old and broken-down as he looked, there was more of the lurking devil in him than in any young filly in the country. Carrot peelings, hay, chaff, molasses, maple oats, red apples, stable wood, and musk. THE HESSIAN OF THE HOLLOW The dominant spirit, however, that haunts this enchanted region, and seems to be commander-in-chief of all the powers of the air, is the apparition of a figure on horseback without a head. It is said by some to be the ghost of a Hessian trooper, whose head had been carried away by a cannon-ball, in some nameless battle during the revolutionary war; and who is ever and anon seen by the country folk hurrying along in the gloom of night, as if on the wings of the wind. His haunts are not confined to the valley, but extend at times to the adjacent roads, and especially to the vicinity of a church at no great distance. Indeed, certain of the most authentic historians of those parts, who have been careful in collecting and collating the floating facts concerning this spectre, allege that the body of the trooper, having been buried in the church-yard, the ghost rides forth to the scene of battle in nightly quest of his head; and that the rushing speed with which he sometimes passes along the Hollow, like a midnight blast, is owing to his being belated, and in a hurry to get back to the church-yard before daybreak. Such is the general purport of this legendary superstition, which has furnished materials for many a wild story in that region of shadows; and the spectre is known, at all the country firesides, by the name of the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow. Grave moss and bone-white sandalwood, with vetiver, gunpowder, artillery shrapnel, and blood. THE SCHOOL-HOUSE His school-house was a low building of one large room, rudely constructed of logs; the windows partly glazed, and partly patched with leaves of old copy-books. It was most ingeniously secured at vacant hours, by a withe twisted in the handle of the door, and stakes set against the window shutters; so that, though a thief might get in with perfect ease, he would find some embarrassment in getting out; an idea most probably borrowed by the architect, Yost Van Houton, from the mystery of an eel-pot. The school-house stood in a rather lonely but pleasant situation just at the foot of a woody hill, with a brook running close by, and a formidable birch tree growing at one end of it. From hence the low murmur of his pupils' voices, conning over their lessons, might be heard in a drowsy summer's day, like the hum of a bee-hive; interrupted now and then by the authoritative voice of the master, in the tone of menace or command; or, peradventure, by the appalling sound of the birch, as he urged some tardy loiterer along the flowery path of knowledge. Dandelion, white clover, balsam fir logs, and birchwood switches. THE SHATTERED PUMPKIN The next morning the old horse was found without his saddle, and with the bridle under his feet, soberly cropping the grass at his master's gate. Ichabod did not make his appearance at breakfast-dinner-hour came, but no Ichabod. The boys assembled at the schoolhouse, and strolled idly about the banks of the brook; but no school-master. Hans Van Ripper now began to feel some uneasiness about the fate of poor Ichabod, and his saddle. An inquiry was set on foot, and after diligent investigation they came upon his traces. In one part of the road leading to the church was found the saddle trampled in the dirt; the tracks of horses' hoofs deeply dented in the road, and evidently at furious speed, were traced to the bridge, beyond which, on the bank of a broad part of the brook, where the water ran deep and black, was found the hat of the unfortunate Ichabod, and close beside it a shattered pumpkin. Soil-covered crushed pumpkin, water-weeds, saddle-leather, and pine pitch. KATRINA VAN TASSEL and though he had seen many spectres in his time, and been more than once beset by Satan in divers shapes, in his lonely perambulations, yet daylight put an end to all these evils; and he would have passed a pleasant life of it, in despite of the devil and all his works, if his path had not been crossed by a being that causes more perplexity to mortal man than ghosts, goblins, and the whole race of witches put together, and that was-a woman. Among the musical disciples who assembled, one evening in each week, to receive his instructions in psalmody, was Katrina Van Tassel, the daughter and only child of a substantial Dutch farmer. She was a blooming lass of fresh eighteen; plump as a partridge; ripe and melting and rosy cheeked as one of her father's peaches, and universally famed, not merely for her beauty, but her vast expectations. She was withal a little of a coquette, as might be perceived even in her dress, which was a mixture of ancient and modern fashions, as most suited to set off her charms. She wore the ornaments of pure yellow gold, which her great-great-grandmother had brought over from Saardam, the tempting stomacher of the olden time; and withal a provokingly short petticoat, to display the prettiest foot and ankle in the country round. White rose and honeyed cream. WILEY'S SWAMP A few rough logs, laid side by side, served for a bridge over this stream. On that side of the road where the brook entered the wood, a group of oaks and chestnuts, matted thick with wild grapevines, threw a cavernous gloom over it. To pass this bridge was the severest trial. It was at this identical spot that the unfortunate André was captured, and under the covert of those chestnuts and vines were the sturdy yeomen concealed who surprised him. This has ever since been considered a haunted stream, and fearful are the feelings of the schoolboy who has to pass it alone after dark. Water-logged and rotting wood, fallen chestnuts, oak leaf, bog laurel, and Virginia creeper. THE WITCHING TIME OF NIGHT It was the very witching time of night that Ichabod, heavy-hearted and crest-fallen, pursued his travel homewards, along the sides of the lofty hills which rise above Tarry Town, and which he had traversed so cheerily in the afternoon. The hour was dismal as himself. Far below him, the Tappan Zee spread its dusky and indistinct waste of waters, with here and there the tall mast of a sloop, riding quietly at anchor under the land. In the dead hush of midnight, he could even hear the barking of the watch dog from the opposite shore of the Hudson; but it was so vague and faint as only to give an idea of his distance from this faithful companion of man. Now and then, too, the long-drawn crowing of a cock, accidentally awakened, would sound far, far off from some farmhouse away among the hills-but it was like a dreaming sound in his ear. No signs of life occurred near him, but occasionally the melancholy chirp of a cricket, or perhaps the guttural twang of a bull-frog, from a neighboring marsh, as if sleeping uncomfortably, and turning suddenly in his bed. Moonflower, night-blooming cereus, white hellebore, English ivy, monkshood, angel's trumpet, oleander, and eastern hemlock. Artwork for the Sleepy Hollow series created by the newest member of the Black Phoenix family, Jennifer Rodgers! Harvest Moon, Hellhound on My Trail, and the Black Moons are $17.50 each, and CT:4 is $15 per bottle. Harvest Moon, the Black Moons, Hellhound, and Chaos bottles will be available until August 18, 2008. The Sleepy Hollow, Pumpkin Patch, and Halloweenies are $17.50 each, and Pumpkin Plunder is available for $85. Sleepy Hollow, the Pumpkin Patch, and the Halloweenies will be available until November 15, 2008. Meanwhile, at Black Phoenix Trading Post A new tee has been added to the General Catalogue's commemorative collection... Dia de los Muertos!  Please note: the artwork is deliberately distressed for an 'aged' feel. Artwork for both Harvest Moon and Dia de los Muertos by the phenomenal Jennifer Williamson! Also new at the 'Post - FOOT SCRUBS! These invigorating, softening foot scrubs were created with the finest environmentally-responsible and body-friendly ingredients. They are vegan, and are contain no harsh chemicals or unwholesome fillers. Our scrubs are paraben and formaldehyde free, and do not contain sodium lauryl or sodium laureth sulfate, and our labels are printed on an Earth-friendly corn biopolymer. Our foot scrubs exfoliate gently, and soften your skin beautifully. They leave your feet polished without feeling abused. As always, no animals were harmed during the creation of this product, and all products were tested on friends and family. These foot scrubs were created by Michelle Groff of Nail Polish, Etc, so you know your feet are in good hands! Scents by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab! DE RØDE SKO Do your feet feel like they've been cursed? Don't chop them off! Soothe your tired, aching toes with our warming, stimulating scrub! Red ginger, sweet orange, black pepper, clove, and cardamom. OLWEN You, too, can have flowers blossoming under your feet! Peppermint, vanilla, sandalwood, honey, and carnation. TALARIA A dollop of our invigorating, refreshing foot scrub will leave you dancing on air like you're wearing winged sandals! Peppermint, lemon, and neroli. For a limited time, Black Phoenix Trading Post is offering a series of spooky seasonal Atmosphere and Linen sprays ALL HALLOW'S EVE 'Tis now the very witching time of night, When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out Contagion to this world. Balsam fir needle, dry leaves, cedar, clove, and black patchouli. BONFIRE NIGHT Guy Fawkes, Guy; Stick him up on high! Hang him on a lamp post And there let him die! Guy, Guy, Guy! Poke Him in the eye! Put him on the fire, And there let him die! Burn his body from his head: Then you'll say Guy Fawkes is dead! Hip, Hip, Hooray! Beer, woodsmoke, tar, and treacle. GOOEY PILLOWCASE Lumps of pumpkin fudge, marshmallow glop, cookie crumbs, caramel smears, and bits of sticky fuzz. SAMHAIN Truly the scent of autumn itself -- damp woods, fir needle, and black patchouli with the gentlest touches of warm pumpkin, clove, nutmeg, allspice, sweet red apple and mullein. SUGAR SKULL Vibrant with the joy and sweetness of life in death! A blend of five sugars, lightly dusted with candied fruits. And one spray that is part of the Black Phoenix Sleepy Hollow series: MAJOR ANDRE'S TREE All the stories of ghosts and goblins that he had heard in the afternoon, now came crowding upon his recollection. The night grew darker and darker; the stars seemed to sink deeper in the sky, and driving clouds occasionally hid them from his sight. He had never felt so lonely and dismal. He was, moreover, approaching the very place where many of the scenes of the ghost stories had been laid. In the centre of the road stood an enormous tulip-tree, which towered like a giant above all the other trees of the neighborhood, and formed a kind of landmark. Its limbs were gnarled, and fantastic, large enough to form trunks for ordinary trees, twisting down almost to the earth, and rising again into the air. It was connected with the tragical story of the unfortunate André, who had been taken prisoner hard by; and was universally known by the name of Major André's tree. The common people regarded it with a mixture of respect and superstition, partly out of sympathy for the fate of its ill-starred namesake, and partly from the tales of strange sights and doleful lamentations told concerning it. As Ichabod approached this fearful tree, he began to whistle: he thought his whistle was answered-it was but a blast sweeping sharply through the dry branches. As he approached a little nearer, he thought he saw something white, hanging in the midst of the tree-he paused and ceased whistling; but on looking more narrowly, perceived that it was a place where the tree had been scathed by lightning, and the white wood laid bare. Suddenly he heard a groan-his teeth chattered and his knees smote against the saddle: it was but the rubbing of one huge bough upon another, as they were swayed about by the breeze. He passed the tree in safety, but new perils lay before him. The gnarled boughs of a gargantuan, moss-caked, ancient tulip-tree, dangling dead leaves and dripping with browning vines. These sprays are $25 per 4oz bottle, and will be live until 15 November 2008. No goblin squirts are available for the seasonal sprays. And that, my friends, is it for now! From the 16 July 2008 update: What is the Lunacy this month, you ask? Why, its STURGEON MOON A month of bounty, when the fish are plentiful and the corn grows high. This is the scent of breezes passing over the Great Lakes, mingling gently with traditional lunar herbs. Sandy shores and sweet fresh water, lichen, green algae, and whitestem pondweed, with benzoin, cyclamen, moonlit musk, cucumber, blue poppy, and agave. Sturgeon Moon is also live at Black Phoenix Trading Post! Artwork by Jennifer Williamson. 
No fishes were harmed in the making of these products, and no, Sturgeon Moon does not smell like fishguts or roe! Hee! Also in the LE section this month PENUMBRA The observer's space within a partial eclipse. Rich purple musk, moonflower, red sandalwood, black amber, oakmoss, copal, lavender, neroli, tobacco, and pomegranate. Sturgeon Moon and Penumbra are $17.50 per bottle, and will be live until July 20, 2008. Also live this month (insert dramatic pause and drumroll here, for its been two years since our last one!) CHAOS THEORY IV: EDGE OF CHAOS Each bottle of Chaos Theory is truly unique, a fragrant fractal, and exercise in the joy of chance and uncertainty! Each is a one-of-a-kind, utterly random combination of scents, the composition of which is based on whim, mood and gut instinct. Most common allergens have been omitted from the experiment. No pennyroyal, no nuts, no cinnamon, no cassia. Regardless, if you have any sensitivities, please do not participate in Chaos Theory. The contents of the oils are not recorded [that's the whole point!] and we will not be able to answer questions about specific bottles of CT4 or guarantee that an allergen is not present in your order. By purchasing CT:4, you agree to absolve Black Phoenix of any responsibility related to an allergic reaction to one of the oils in this series. Please make a responsible choice, and use caution and discretion when ordering. This is intended to be a fun, exciting project. Please bear in mind that all Black Phoenix oils are made in an environment that contains nuts, both literally and figuratively. The Chaos blends were created by both myself and Mister Constantine, with a handful contributed by Teddy, so you get an extra dose of chaos! Sturgeon Moon and Penumbra are $17.50 per bottle, and will be live until July 20, 2008. CT:4 is $15 per bottle, and will be live until August 18, 2008. The long-awaited Snow, Glass, Apples perfume will be making its debut at San Diego Comic Con! The SGA package includes Neil Gaiman's short story in chapbook format, beautifully illustrated by Julie Dillon, and a 5ml bottle of perfume inspired by the tale. This set is a limited run of 1000. 250 will be sold by CBLDF at Comic Con 2008, and the remainder will go on sale July 30, 2008 on the Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab web site and will be available as long as supplies last. All profits from the sales of this set go to the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund! The next act of Carnaval will be coming soon, and, as is BPAL tradition, the Halloween scents will be going live in August! From the 17 June 2008 update: Two summer moons are rising in the summer sky! - you have your faithful narrator's pregnancy psychosis to thank for it! Heh! I'll spare you the long-winded Piscean Fish Story behind it, suffice to say that my progesterone-pumped whacko'ness made one moon, forgot about it, and made another. Someone needs more sleep! For your pleasure: The moon was but a chin of gold A night or two ago, And now she turns her perfect face Upon the world below. Her forehead is of amplest blond; Her cheek like beryl stone; Her eye unto the summer dew The likest I have known. Her lips of amber never part; But what must be the smile Upon her friend she could bestow Were such her silver will! And what a privilege to be But the remotest star! For certainly her way might pass Beside your twinkling door. Her bonnet is the firmament, The universe her shoe, The stars the trinkets at her belt, Her dimities of blue. HAY MOON Hay absolute, tall grasses, dry honey, mallow, cardamom, amber, and wheat. MEAD MOON Golden mead, fermented with gruit, nutmeg, clove, cinnamon, ginger root, sweet-briar, rosemary, and lemon. Hay Moon and Mead Moon are also live at Black Phoenix Trading Post! Artwork courtesy of our beloved Jennifer Williamson.   Hay and Mead will be live at both sites until June 20, 2008. From the Friday the 13th update: 13 is live at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab and the Four Seasons Inquest is live at Black Phoenix Trading Post! A portion of the sales from BPAL's 13 and the Four Seasons Inquest will benefit the Wildlife Waystation. Due to county issues and the current economic climate, the Wildlife Waystation is currently unable to help itself the way it normally would with tours and public events. With operation costs climbing and donations dipping, its getting harder and harder for them to keep going. They're good people that do good work, caring and sheltering 400+ animals, and we want to do what we can to help. From the 18 May 2008 update: Dyan Moon is live at BPAL and BPTP! DYAN MOON Queen and huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair, State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess excellently bright. Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose; Cynthia's shining orb was made Heaven to clear when day did close: Bless us then with wishèd sight, Goddess excellently bright. Lay thy bow of pearl apart, And thy crystal-shining quiver; Give unto the flying hart Space to breathe, how short soever; Thou that mak'st a day of night, Goddess excellently bright. The essence of the pure, unsullied virgin moon and of the huntress that stalks her prey by the moon's light: amaranth, musk rose, juniper, chaste tree, sweet bay, chamomile, rose mallow, Madonna lily, blue musk, wisteria, and iris. And... whaddya know?! -- Acts IV and V of Carnaval Diabolique are live, too! Praise, love, and adoration for Jennifer Williamson for doodling Act IV and Act IV: the Ladies of the Grindhouse, and to Alicia Dabney for doodling Act V. Thank you, ladies, for helping us bring the Carnaval to life! From the 18 April 2008 update: Holy moly, there's a lot going on at BPAL this month! There are new Neil and Terry-inspired scents all across the board! ++ GOOD OMENS THE BUGGRE ALLE THIS BIBLE The book was commonly known as the Buggre Alle This Bible. The lengthy compositor's error, if such it may be called, occurs in the book of Ezekiel, chapter 48, verse five: 2. And bye the border of Dan, fromme the east side to the west side, a portion for Afher. 3. And bye the border of Afhter, fromme the east side even untoe the west side, a portion for Naphtali. 4. And bye the border of Naphtali, from the east side untoe the west side, a portion for Manaffeh. 5. Buggre all this for a Larke. I amme sick to mye Hart of typefettinge. Master Biltonn if no Gentelmann, and Master Scagges noe more than a tighte fisted Southwarke Knobbefticke. I telle you, onne a daye laike thif Ennywone half an oz. of Sense should bee oute in the Sunneshain, ane nott Stucke here alle the liuelong daie inn thif mowldey olde By-Our-Lady Workefhoppe. @*"AE@;!* 6. And bye the border of Ephraim, from the east fide even untoe the west fide, a portion for Reuben. [The Buggre Alle This Bible was also noteworthy for having twenty seven verses in the third chapter of Genesis, instead of the more usual twenty four. They followed verse 24, which in the King James version reads: "So he drove out the man; and he placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life," and read: 25 And the Lord spake unto the Angel that guarded the eastern gate, saying Where is the flaming sword which was given unto thee? 26 And the Angel said, I had it here only a moment ago, I must have put it down some where, forget my own head next. 27 And the Lord did not ask him again. It appears that these verses were inserted during the proof stage. In those days it was common practice for printers to hang proof sheets to the wooden beams outside their shops, for the edification of the populace and some free proofreading, and since the whole print run was subsequently burned anyway, no one bothered to take up this matter with the nice Mr. A. Ziraphale, who ran the bookshop two doors along and was always so helpful with the translations, and whose handwriting was instantly recognizable.] Crumbling paper and ancient cracked leather with a touch of tobacco leaf and incense. JASMINE COTTAGE She'd rented the cottage furnished, which meant that the actual furniture was the special sort you find in these circumstances and had probably been left out for the dustmen by the local War on Want shop. It didn't matter. She didn't expect to be here long. If Agnes was right, she wouldn't be anywhere long. Nor would anyone else. Camellia, jasmine, heather, orange blossom, osmanthus, wisteria, thyme, angelica, freesia, granny's nightcap, and English wildflowers. NANNY ASHTORETH She wore a knit tweed suit and discreet pearl earrings. Something about her might have said nanny, but it said it in an undertone of the sort employed by British butlers in a certain type of American film. It also coughed discreetly and muttered that she could well be the sort of nanny who advertises unspecified but strangely explicit services in certain magazines. Middle Eastern flowers, amber, honey, blood red-berries, whip leather, and polished paddle wood. PEPPER She herself had short red hair and a face which was not so much freckled as one big freckle with occasional areas of skin. Pepper's given first names were Pippin Galadriel Moonchild. She had been given them in a naming ceremony in a muddy valley field that contained three sick sheep and a number of leaky polythene teepees. Her mother had chosen the Welsh valley of Pant y Gyrdl as the ideal site to Return to Nature. (Six months later, sick of the rain, the mosquitoes, the men, the tent trampling sheep who ate first the whole commune's marijuana crop and then its antique minibus, and by now beginning to glimpse why almost the entire drive of human history has been an attempt to get as far away from Nature as possible, Pepper's mother returned to Pepper's surprised grandparents in Tadfield, bought a bra, and enrolled in a sociology course with a deep sigh of relief.) There are only two ways a child can go with a name like Pippin Galadriel Moonchild, and Pepper had chosen the other one: the three male Them had learned this on their first day of school, in the playground, at the age of four. They had asked her her name, and, all innocent, she had told them. Subsequently a bucket of water had been needed to separate Pippin Galadriel Moonchild's teeth from Adam's shoe. Wensleydale's first pair of spectacles had been broken, and Brian's sweater needed five stitches. The Them were together from then on, and Pepper was Pepper forever, except to her mother, and (when they were feeling especially courageous, and the Them were almost out of earshot) Greasy Johnson and the Johnsonites, the village's only other gang. Wild English roses, French gardenia, vanilla, honey, golden ginger, blood orange, tuberose, bergamot, and geranium. WENSLEYDALE "My father says there's no such thing as witches," said Wensleydale, who had fair, wavy hair, and peered seriously out at life through thick black rimmed spectacles. It was widely believed that he had once been christened Jeremy, but no one ever used the name, not even his parents, who called him Youngster. They did this in the subconscious hope that he might take the hint; Wensleydale gave the impression of having been born with a mental age of forty seven. An immaculately clean scent: well-scrubbed soapy skin and fresh cotton. ++ AMERICAN GODS THE IFRIT The taxi driver comes out of the shower, wet, with a towel wrapped around his midsection. He is not wearing his sunglasses, and in the dim room his eyes burn with scarlet flames. Salim blinks back tears. "I wish you could see what I see," he says. "I do not grant wishes," whispers the ifrit, dropping his towel and pushing Salim gently, but irresistibly, down onto the bed. Desert sand, red musk, blackened ginger, dragon's blood resin, black pepper, cinnamon, and tobacco. THE NORNS' FARMHOUSE The farmhouse was dark and shut up. The meadows were overgrown and seemed abandoned. The farm roof was crumbling at the back; it was covered in black plastic sheeting. They jolted over a ridge and Shadow saw it there. It was silver-gray and it was higher than the farm-house. It was the most beautiful tree Shadow had ever seen: spectral and yet utterly real and almost perfectly symmetrical. It also looked instantly familiar: he wondered if he had dreamed it, then he realized that no, he had seen it before, or a representation of it man, many times. It was Wednesday's silver tie pin. The VW bus jolted and bumped across the meadow, and it came to a stop about twenty feet from the trunk of the tree. There were three women standing by the tree. At first glance Shadow thought they were the Zorya, but no, they were three women he did not know. They looked tired and bored, as if they had been standing there a long time. Each of them held a wooden ladder. The biggest also carried a brown sack. They looked like a set of Russian dolls: a tall one - she was Shadow's height, or even taller - a middle-sized one, and a woman so short and hunched that at first glance Shadow wrongly supposed her to be a child. They looked so much alike that Shadow was certain the women must be sisters. The smallest of the women dropped to a curtsey when the bus drew up. The other two just stared. They were sharing a cigarette, and they smoked it down to the filter before one of them stubbed it out against a root. Dusty, ancient wood, horehound, and sage, with viper's bugloss, mugwort, chamomile, nettle, apple blossom, chervil, and ashes. ++ STARDUST THE EAST But there were times when the wind blew from beyond the wall, bringing with it the smell of mint and thyme and redcurrants, and at those times there were strange colors seen in the flames in the fireplaces in the village. The scent of the winds beyond the wall: bluebonnet, passion flower, freesia, jasmine tea, mint, thyme, and redcurrant. THE STORMHOLD The Stormhold had been carved out of the peak of Mount Huon by the first lord of Stormhold, who reigned at the end of the First Age and into the beginning of the Second. It had been expanded, improved upon, excavated and tunneled into by successive Masters of Stormhold, until the original mountain peak now raked the sky like the ornately carved tusk of some great, grey, granite beast. The Stormhold itself was perched high in the sky, where the thunder clouds gathered before they went down to the lower air, spilling rain and lightning and devastation upon the place beneath. Creeping moss, slick granite, murky vetiver, lightning-charged ozone, and icy rain. As always, this is a not-for-profit project, and all proceeds from the American Gods and Stardust scents go to the CBLDF, and the proceeds from the Good Omens scents are split between the CBLDF and the Orangutan Foundation UK. We love you, Neil and Terry! Thank you!!! Next up, we have the Loon'acy -- ++ A LITTLE LUNACY DRAGON MOON 2008 In some cultures, the Dragon is benevolent, bestowing blessings and granting wishes. In others, the Dragon is an icon of destruction and harbinger of catastrophe. In all its incarnations, both baneful and benign, the Dragon is a symbol of strength, authority, and the raw power of nature. Our Dragon Moon represents the forces of rebirth and the vigor that springtime brings: dragon's blood resin, galbanum, blue sage, lavender, peppermint, sweetgrass, frankincense, moonglow magnolia, bergamot, and green cedar. Dragon Moon is also live at Black Phoenix Trading Post  Artwork by Jennifer Williamson! Dragon Moon will come down from both sites on 22 April 2008 along with the Atomic Luau Lounge! We are thrilled to present a pair of long-awaited additions to the general catalogue: ++ DOC CONSTANTINE'S PHARMACOPOEIA BRUISED VIOLET COMPOUND Promotes vigor in undeath, and relieves the discomforts and complaints so common to incorporeal spirits! The learned and eminent scholar Alessandro Cagliostro once remarked, "Long experience has taught me to prize Doctor Constantine's Compounds above all others!" Crushed violets, red currant, patchouli root, and Spanish moss. NOSTRUM REMEDIUM A Universal Panacea! Revitalizes the spirit and balances the humors! Prolongs life indefinitely! Black tea leaf, invigorating wasabi extract, sweetened by honey. Much despair and suffering can be prevented by the discreet use of Doc Constantine's remedies! SLIPPERY POPPY TINCTURE Supports psychic health and strengthens the astral body! Dissolves and expels telepathic blockage! Every medium should have it! Use before every séance! Poppy flowers, acai berry, and honey. STIMULATING SASSAFRAS STRENGTHENER Valuable in relieving the vapors and in reversing depraved conditions of the system! Doc Constantine's tonics will make you happy, hale, and hearty! Sassafras, vanilla extract, oak leaf, CO2 butter extract, and onycha. While these blends certainly do soothe the mind and bolster the spirit, they are sold as curios only. They are not to be taken internally, or used in any capacity other than that of a perfume. These are tributes to quack medicines of yore and were created in the spirit of nostalgia. This is all tongue-in-cheek, friends. Please do not consider these serious pharmaceuticals. The illustrations for Doc Constantine's series were hand-drawn by the inimitable Madame Talbot. Please pay her site a visit to see more of her astounding artwork, fascinating curio exhibitions, and beautiful handmade dolls. ++ PHOENIX STEAMWORKS AND RESEARCH FACILITY PHOENIX STEAMWORKS Glowing liquid passes through the fogged retorts of ancient alembics, sparks fly from behind a massive workbench, and a cloud of thick incense smoke hangs low, all casting strange and surreal flashes of light and shadow on tall bolted-steel walls. The chug and hum of gargantuan machines echo through the chamber. Burnished gold and oiled bronze notes with Abramelin incense and sage. AELOPILE Smoldering coals heat the device from below, and steam hisses through two curved pipes, rotating the shining brass sphere. Glowing amber and citrus, labdanum, verbena, cedar, and oud. THE ANTIKYTHERA MECHANISM Bronze gears spin inside a polished wooden case, and an entire universe dances within. Teakwood, oak, black vanilla, and tobacco. THE COIL The walls reverberate with a resounding boom as the mechanism is activated, and the boom settles into a hum with a deep, growling buzz. Purple-white and lightning-yellow streamers of electricity cavort over enameled copper wires and through gleaming glass globes; the room is set afire with corona spray, and bare fluorescent bulbs mounted on the walls blaze to life. Ozone, eucalyptus and mint with purple orchid, passionflower, white ginger, and purple lotus. ETHER Glass globes fill with sweet vitriol, and the gas passes lazily through slim tubes. A misty fog veils the senses, and the world fades to hazy, opaque nothingness. Translucent blooms, ethereal white resins, and davana. GALVANIC GOGGLES Golden goggles fitted with zinc and copper plates dangle heavily by their leather straps from a hook mounted to the wall. Its crystal lenses are effulgent with residual electric energy. Metallic notes with Indian musk, tobacco flower, and African balsam. NO. 93 ENGINE Beeswax candles reflect flickering light onto a brass-coated boiler engraved with the words "Solve Et Coagula". The gargantuan boiler sends torrents of steam into rigid pipes that exert force onto innumerable pistons and turbine blades. The motion is harnessed to propel energy into gargantuan cogs and gears that move liquid metals, herbs, and resins into a series of alembics. Balm of Gilead, benzoin, frankincense, balsam of peru, beeswax, saffron, galbanum, calamus, hyssop, mastic, lemon balm, and white sage. THE OBSIDIAN WIDOW Tinkling tiny feet scuttle across a massive oak desk, navigating through a flurry of papers and a maze of discarded books, wires, and bolts. Glistening green venom beads at its chelicerae, and a ruby hourglass flashes from the creature's underbelly as it begins to weave. Pinot noir, dark myrrh, red sandalwood, black patchouli, night-blooming jasmine, and attar of rose. THE ROBOTIC SCARAB Pinpoints of red light beaming from its eyes scan the room, and in a flutter of leather wings, it scuttles across the wooden floorboards. Polished metallic notes, glossy leather, frankincense, star anise, and thin lubricating oils. SMOKESTACK Grey-brown flue gasses belch from colossal steel and concrete monoliths, forming bloated clouds in the dusk-dark sky. Creosote, coal, and industrial waste. VIOLET RAY Though the doctor continued to assure her that the treatment was therapeutic, her anxiety increased. Ignoring her feeble protestations, the doctor produced a pair of glass wands, and set to work. As the machine hummed to life, her misgivings were dissolved in a haze of unexpected pleasure. Warmth, contrasted sharply with a million white-hot pinpricks and a strangely cooling blast of electricity, surged through her thighs. The metal electrodes secured beneath her corset flared as the electrical current swelled through her nerve endings. White mint, purple musk, violet, lilac, ylang ylang, lavender moss, and sandalwood. Illustrations by the phenomenal Mlle. Julie Dillon! Don't forget! - Its baseball season, boys and girls!  And that's it for now! Please keep an eye out for the next Carnaval Diabolique update coming soon! From the 20 March 2008 update: April first is coming, and at BPAL, that means foolishness. Last year we brought you the Dogs Playing Poker Salon Series. This year, we are thrilled to present: ++ ATOMIC LUAU LOUNGE In the spirit of Polynesian Pop and Tiki Culture, we present Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab's Atomic Luau Lounge: the Exotica Collection. Tiki Culture became a phenomenon in the late 50's, likely inspired by Hawaii's admission to the union in 1959 and by the memories of World War II veterans that were stationed in the South Pacifi. Tiki enthusiasts were influenced by a panoply of Polynesian themes, and they embraced pop renditions of island artwork, dress, and music, revamping them with a distinctly campy Western flair. This is our tribute to Donn Beach, a true Pisces if there ever was one. Light the torches, bust out the leis, and bust out the Martin Denny LPs! Without you, Donn, we wouldn't pu pu platters to gorge on, or Zombies to chug! TIKI QUEEN Monoi de Tahiti, vanilla, white coconut, tuberose, ylang ylang, white musk, red hibiscus, and neroli. TIKI KING Black coconut, black musk, lemon blossom, and ironwood bark. ++ ATOMIC LUAU LOUNGE: THE BAR BLUE FIRE Papaya, blueberry, lemongrass, and gin. GOLDEN WAVE Tangerine, gin, passion fruit, guava, and tonic. RANGOON RIPTIDE Pineapple, mandarin orange, raspberry, passion fruit, and rum. SCREECHING PARROT Golden rum, apricot liquor, pineapple, pomegranate, ginger, brandy, grapefruit, and pink lime. TE PO Jamaican rum, almond liquor, orange water, sugar syrup, lime peel, black cherry, vodka, and mint. UPA UPA Spiced rum, coconut, pineapple, and vanilla. ++ ATOMIC LUAU LOUNGE: FLOTSAM BOO BAM Bamboo reed, palm frond, and hibiscus. MARAE Vanilla orchid, Monoi tiare, gardenia, and light incense. MOAI Volcanic ash and Easter Island palm. MOANA Seaweed, awapuhi, and sea foam. OPUHI Ginger blossom and vanilla orchid. TUPAPAU White sandalwood, pikaki, 'umi'umi-o-dole, and plumeria. This month's Lunacy also falls prey to our April shenanigans: WORM MOON Do not smirk as a hearse goes by, For you may be the next to die. They wrap you up in a big white sheet And throw you down six feet deep. They put you in a big black box, And cover you up with dirt and rocks. All goes well for a week or two, Then things start changing; all is new. The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out, The worms play pinochle on your snout. A big green worm with rolling eyes, Crawls in your stomach and out your eyes. Til your blood turns mossy green And oozes out like Devonshire cream. Worm Moon marks the season of rains, when the worms scuttle forth, aerating the earth with their movements and enriching the soil by digesting waste in organic material, which creates organic fertilizer. Since April is Black Phoenix's Month of Absurdity, we present a melding of Victorian Grotesquery and springtime fecundity: mold-crusted dirt, decomposing organic matter, coffin wood, drooping funeral flowers, congealed blood, gloomy lunar oils, cuckoo flower, and a gruesome burst of overripe red fruits. Also featured in our LE section: APRIL FOOL The first of April is the day we remember what we are the other 364 days of the year. - Mark Twain The Fool is many things, but rarely is he foolish. He is the inscrutable zero, he is innocence perfected, and he is the nothing from which all things are created. It is the Fool that reveals truth and brings wisdom to King Lear, and it is the Fool that finally finds the Holy Grail. Huckleberry, white rose, tangerine, nicotiana, lemon blossom, and Fool's Parsley. BELTANE 2008 One of the holiest days in the Pagan calendar, Beltane [May Day, Cetsamhain, Floralia and Roodmas... also, Beltaine, Bealtaine, Bealtuinn, Beletene, La Bheltine] is the Day of Baal's Fire, and marks the midpoint of Sol's path between the Vernal Equinox and Summer Solstice. In Druidic tradition, need-fires were set atop hills in a symbolic gesture of bringing the Sun's light down to Earth. Celebrants danced around the fires in harmony with the Sun's seeming movement through the sky, and passed eadar dà theine Bhealltuinn, between the Fires of Beltane, to purify themselves. In Scotland, all hearth fires were extinguished, and the flames from the need-fires were used to rekindle their flames, bringing blessings and good fortune into the household. It doesn't matter where your faith lies, Beltane is sacred to us simply because we're human. It is a celebration of new growth, rebirth, of the fertility of our land, our spirits and our bodies, and is a reminder of the joy in simply being alive. Celebrate life! Wind some flowers into your hair, dab a little oil behind each ear, toss the first petals of springtime onto your yard, and bless your garden the old fashioned way! Mugwort, French rose, Lily of the Valley, broom, frankincense, myrrh, benzoin, foxglove, woodruff, rowan wood, ivy, sandalwood, spring mint, thyme, iris, copal, and night blooming jasmine. HEXENNACHT 2008 The Night of the Witches. In the Teutonic calendar, April 30, not October 31, was the night that the witches congregated to celebrate their Work through ecstatic dance, wild music and revelry. The witches fêted with spirits, fairies, and a bevy of otherworldy creatures atop Brockenberg peak in the Harz region of Germany, where they lit an enormous bonfire and cavorted naked until midnight... at which point they donned their robes, boarded their brooms, flying rams and sacred goats, scooped up their cat familiars, and sped off into the night. In later days, it was believed that on this night the witches conjured the devil, who would then select one of them for his bride. This perfume is the scent of the witches' revel: German fir and forest herbs, incense and bonfire smoke, infernal flora, glowing amber, and the wet, glimmering scent of skin warmed by dance. The formulas for Beltane and Hexennacht are new for 2008. April Fool, Worm Moon, Hexennacht 2008, Beltane 2008, Earth Rat and Parentalia are $17.50 each. All of our Atomic Luau Lounge and Lupercalia blends are $17.50, with the exception of Tiki Queen and Tiki King, which are $23.00 each. The Salon Limited Edition series, Novel Ideas For Secret Amusements, are $27.50 each. The Lupercalia blends, April Fool, Worm Moon, Hexennacht 2008, Beltane 2008, Earth Rat, and Parentalia, will be available until March 23, 2008. The Aromic Luau blends will be available until April 22, 2008. And with that, let's take a peep at what's new at Black Phoenix Trading Post:  Also new this month:  Artwork by the phenomenal Julie Dillon. Rubbed bronze, gold, and sky blue shimmer ink on black tee. For a limited time, a preview of of next month's steampunk-inspired scent line will be available: the Phoenix Steamworks flagship oil with its accompanying tee! You will receive a tee in the size and style of your choice, plus a 5ml bottle of Phoenix Steamworks: Burnished gold and oiled bronze notes with Abramelin incense and sage. Also new at the Post: three new locket designs -- Cheshire Cat, Clockwork, and the Queen of Hearts. Clockwork was designed by Alicia Dabney, and is 925 sterling silver that has been partially gold washed using a method popularized in the 19th century. Portions of the face of the Clockwork locket have been deliberately tarnished. An addition has been made to the House of Phoenix's yoga line: the Hemlock pant --  The scents were created by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab for the Trading Post. These sprays are generously scented with copious amounts of Black Phoenix perfume oil and disperse beautifully. A little goes a long way. The labels are printed on an Earth-friendly corn biopolymer, and as always, the Black Phoenix Partnership does not test on animals. We test on friends and family, and on the linens of friends and family! Please note: The sprays are not for use on the body. Do not use near an open flame. Please do not shoot these sprays into your eyes, or attempt to use them as perfume. Do not drink the sprays, or use them for any other unforeseen funnybusiness. These mists may stain pale and delicate fabrics. Don't pour the sprays onto granny's antique linens, that's fer sure! And last, but not least Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab notepads. Handy lil' pads that are perfect for taking to a meet & sniff or Will Call, doodling, or making into very small paper airplanes! From the 19 February 2008 update: Good evening, all! Your faithful narrator is recovering from a challenging first trimester and the rigors of Mercury retrograde, so this update is a small one. SUGAR MOON No way to see him on this moonless night --- I lie awake longing, burning, breasts racing fire, heart in flames. Sugar cane, blue musk, mahogany, black orchid, black currant, violet, blackberry leaf, teak, strawberry, and dusky rose. HANAMI Sleeping under the trees on Yoshino mountain The spring breeze wearing cherry blossom petals In Japan, the advent of spring is heralded by a blanket of pink and white that spreads gently from the South to the North to cover the islands. Hana-mi translates to "flower watching", and it is a sport of leisure that has been enjoyed since the Heian Period. MORT DE CESAR The essence of intrigue, betrayal, and impending doom. Well, then, Antony, who was a friend of Caesar's and a robust man, was detained outside by Brutus Albinus, who purposely engaged him in a lengthy conversation; but Caesar went in, and the senate rose in his honour. Some of the partisans of Brutus took their places round the back of Caesar's chair, while others went to meet him, as though they would support the petition which Tillius Cimber presented to Caesar in behalf of his exiled brother, and they joined their entreaties to his and accompanied Caesar up to his chair. But when, after taking his seat, Caesar continued to repulse their petitions, and, as they pressed upon him with greater importunity, began to show anger towards one and another of them, Tillius seized his toga with both hands and pulled it down from his neck. This was the signal for the assault. It was Casca who gave him the first blow with his dagger, in the neck, not a mortal would, nor even a deep one, for which he was too much confused, as was natural at the beginning of a deed of great daring; so that Caesar turned about, grasped the knife, and held it fast. At almost the same instant both cried out, the smitten man in Latin: "Accursed Casca, what does thou?" and the smiter, in Greek, to his brother: "Brother, help!" So the affair began, and those who were not privy to the plot were filled with consternation and horror at what was going on; they dared not fly, nor go to Caesar's help, nay, nor even utter a word. But those who had prepared themselves for the murder bared each of them his dagger, and Caesar, hemmed in on all sides, whichever way he turned confronting blows of weapons aimed at his face and eyes, driven hither and thither like a wild beast, was entangled in the hands of all; for all had to take part in the sacrifice and taste of the slaughter. Therefore Brutus also gave him one blow in the groin. And it is said by some writers that although Caesar defended himself against the rest and darted this way and that and cried aloud, when he saw that Brutus had drawn his dagger, he pulled his toga down over his head and sank, either by chance or because pushed there by his murderers, against the pedestal on which the statue of Pompey stood. And the pedestal was drenched with his blood, so that one might have thought that Pompey himself was presiding over this vengeance upon his enemy, who now lay prostrate at his feet, quivering from a multitude of wounds. For it is said that he received twenty-three; and many of the conspirators were wounded by one another, as they struggled to plant all those blows in one body. Conspiracy and murder in the Theatre of Pompey: balsam of Peru, bitter clove, motia attar, amber musk, opoponax, cypress, red wine grapes, tagetes, spikenard, and blood accord. Sugar Moon and Hanami are $17.50 per 5ml, and Mort de Cesar is $20. All three will be live until February 22, 2008. At Black Phoenix Trading Post, the Sugar Moon tee is live!  A design inspired by classic tattoo art, doodled by Ms. Jennifer Williamson. The Sugar Moon tee will be live at Trading Post until February 22, 2008. From the 24 January 2008: Per our announcement on December 17th, the following scents were discontinued today: Asphodel Calliope Clio Erato Euterpe Goneril Hamadryad Kostnice Melpomene Penthus Phantom Polyhymnia Rage Shroud Terpsichore Thaleia Urania Vinland Yerevan LVRH: Ahathoor LVRH: Khephra LVRH: Ra LVRH: Tum Thank you for understanding! From the 20 January 2008 update: There is a whole lot of Lunacy this month! At Black Phoenix Trading Post: Two new bath oils! LUXURIA BATH OIL Lust's passion will be served; it demands, it militates, it tyrannizes. -- the Marquis de Sade Red musk, patchouli, pomegranate, red currant, bourbon vanilla, nutmeg, sweet orange. CASTITAS BATH OIL Chastity - the most unnatural of all the sexual perversions. -- Aldous Huxley Rice flower, vanilla, and cream. Also, two new BPAL tees have been added to the permanent catalogue!   And, the Lunacies:   Moon of Ice and Cheshire Moon will be live at Black Phoenix Trading Post until January 24, 2008. And at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab MOON OF ICE The Moon of Ice shines its pale white light on snow-blanketed hills and barren fields. Icicles dangle from skeletal branches, and the desperate howl of starving men and beasts echo through the darkness. Frost-crusted winter flowers, white pine, eucalyptus, and traditional lunar oils. PISCES Mutable water: the essence of faith. Hemp, opium poppy, sarsaparilla, grains of paradise, passion flower, wisteria, Irish moss, and gentian. CHESHIRE MOON The Cat only grinned when it saw Alice. It looked good- natured, she thought: still it had VERY long claws and a great many teeth, so she felt that it ought to be treated with respect. `Cheshire Puss,' she began, rather timidly, as she did not at all know whether it would like the name: however, it only grinned a little wider. `Come, it's pleased so far,' thought Alice, and she went on. `Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?' `That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,' said the Cat. `I don't much care where --' said Alice. `Then it doesn't matter which way you go,' said the Cat. `-- so long as I get SOMEWHERE,' Alice added as an explanation. `Oh, you're sure to do that,' said the Cat, `if you only walk long enough.' Alice felt that this could not be denied, so she tried another question. `What sort of people live about here?' `In THAT direction,' the Cat said, waving its right paw round, `lives a Hatter: and in THAT direction,' waving the other paw, `lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they're both mad.' `But I don't want to go among mad people,' Alice remarked. `Oh, you can't help that,' said the Cat: `we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad.' `How do you know I'm mad?' said Alice. `You must be,' said the Cat, `or you wouldn't have come here.' A lunatic's blend of lunar herbs and blossoms, with lemongrass, guava, pink grapefruit, banyan fruit, hibiscus, and cherry blossom. LUNAR ECLIPSE Skoll the wolf who shall scare the Moon Till he flies to the Wood-of-Woe: Hati the wolf, Hridvitnir's kin, Who shall pursue the Sun. Red musk, black currant, violet leaf, wild frankincense, lavender, black orchid, Darjeeling tea, vetiver, red moss, myrrh, Moroccan spices, blackened fruit gums, and tobacco. Cheshire Moon and Moon of Ice are $17.50 each. Pisces 2008 is $20, and Lunar Eclipse is $23. Moon of Ice and Pisces vanish on January 24, 2008. Cheshire Moon and Lunar Eclipse will be live until February 22, 2008. And just in time for Valentine's Day - A double feature tribute to B-movie sci-fi horror romance brought to you by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab and Dark Delicacies! The scentmasters of the WEIRD In their LATEST and most TERRIFYING!  ++ DIARY OF A LOVESTRUCK TEENAGE CANNIBAL The NIGHTMARE TERROR of TEENAGE love gone GRISLY! She's HELL-BENT on romance, THRILL-CRAZED, and HUNGRY! There's NO ESCAPE from her clutches! A deranged darling, sweet and sociopathic! Clotted vanilla cream, pink pepper, grapefruit, blood lily, red ginger, English pear, and lemon-squeezed candyfloss! ++ I MARRIED A VAMPIRE FROM PLANET X Unspeakable HORROR and SHOCKING supernatural space SEX! Can they find MARITAL BLISS on EARTH? A blend of blood-soaked daemonorops, black amber, dark musk, glistening leather, caraway, smoky myrrh, cinnamon, and clove that is glowing with a luminescent, space-addled coating of clary sage, lemon balm, white grapefruit rind, mandarin, green melon, and white musk. Available solely through those wacky kids at Dark Delicacies. Shipping of the B-Movie scents will begin after January 25, 2008. IMP REMINDER! Imps are not available for the following categories of scents: Limited Edition Carnaval Diabolique Lunacy Blends / Astrological Blends The Neil Gaiman Series The Stardust Series The Good Omens Series The Shojo Beat scents Any Twilight Alchemy Lab oils Any oils offered at Black Phoenix Trading Post The following imps are sold only in pre-packaged full sets: Panacea The Chakras The Salon If you request a sample of a limited edition scent, we will swap for a random general catalog scent. And, with the rising of Pisces, this cycle's Suspiciendo Despicio series is concluded. Thanks, everyone! Happy Loonacee! From the 14 January 2008 update: Love is in the air at Black Phoenix, and it has suffused both our Limited Edition section and the general catalogue. First things first: the Love Potions section is now "Ars Amatoria". Why? Because we're a little mercurial here at the Lab, and it seemed like a good idea. New to Ars Amatoria ++ GENERAL CATALOGUE: ARS AMATORIA DEEP IN EARTH Deep in earth my love is lying And I must weep alone. Rose geranium, Spanish moss, Irish yew, and graveyard dirt. DEFUTUTA Good Gods, what a night that was, The bed was so soft, and how we clung, Burning together, lying this way and that, Our uncontrollable passions Flowing through our mouths. If I could only die that way, I'd say goodbye to the business of living. Olive blossom, honey, smoky vanilla, cinnamon, jasmine, sandalwood, and champaca flower. FASCINUM Hic habitat felicitas! The penis was a potent and popular symbol of good fortune, strength, power, and fertility in ancient Rome. Images of phalluses adorned Roman homes and shops, bringing the positive energy that the symbol represents into the lives of the inhabitants. Golden amber, golden musk, litsea cubeba, cedar, and saffron. L'ECOLE DES FILLES We sang till almost night, and drank my good store of wine; and then they parted and I to my chamber, where I did read through L'Escholle des Filles; a lewd book, but what doth me no wrong to read for imagination's sake and after I had done it, I burned it, that it might not be among my books to my shame. Published around 1655, this is considered to be the origin of modern pornography in France. It is a discourse between two young ladies, the elder instructing the younger in the ways of passion. This is a libertine's celebration of decadence, debauchery, and sexual freedom: orange blossom, ambergris, orris root, white rose, lemon balm, jonquil, carrot seed, and benzoin. LOVE'S TORMENTS Love's torments sought a place of rest, Where all might drear and lonely be; They found ere long my desert breast, And nestled in its vacancy. White sandalwood, neroli, and vetiver. TO A WOMAN Thy fatal shafts unerring move, I bow before thine altar, Love. I feel thy soft resistless flame Glide swift through all my vital frame. For while I gaze my bosom glows, My blood in tides impetuous flows; Hope, fear, and joy alternate roll, And floods of transports whelm my soul. My faltering tongue attempts in vain In soothing murmurs to complain; My tongue some secret magic ties, My murmurs sink in broken sighs. Condemned to nurse eternal care, And ever drop the silent tear, Unheard I mourn, unknown I sigh, Unfriended live, unpitied die. Benzoin, cassis bud, patchouli, rose otto, and petitgrain. And, the new Limited Edition scents ++ LUNAR NEW YEAR EARTH RAT A new year's blessing! Peony, China's national flower, with bamboo for flexibility, plum blossom for perseverance, courage, and hope, tangerine for wealth, lychee for strong family relationships and peace in the home, orange for happiness, pine resin for constancy, golden kumquat and quince for prosperity, narcissus and King mandarin for good fortune, coconut for longevity, and candied melon for good health, with a splash of blazing red of dragon's blood... to help you scare away the rampaging Nian. PARENTALIA The Day of the Fathers. A festival of remembrance, honoring family that has passed into the next life. Cypress, rose, violet, frankincense, ambrette, marjoram, and Lebanese cedar. ++ LUPERCALIA 2008 UPDATE ANACTORIA I feel thy blood against my blood; my pain Pains thee, and lips bruise lips, and vein stings vein. Let fruit be crushed on fruit, let flower on flower Breast kindle breast, and either burn one hour. Why wilt thou follow lesser loves? are thine Too weak to bear these hands and lips of mine? The scent of the throes of violent passion: entangled limbs, teeth on flesh, furiously grasping hands, the taste of blood and sweat. Golden amber, white honey, red currant, daemonorops, kush, and Arabian musk. KHAJURAHO 2008 The fabled Khajuraho temples of India are shrines of love in all its myriad forms. They are a celebration of love itself -- transcendental, spiritual and erotic. This is a rejection of sorrow, spiritual ennui and despair. The sexual motifs that adorn the temples, and the temples themselves, are monuments to ecstasy and to passion, and through that, they are also monuments to spiritual fulfillment. It is believed that the realization of moksha by dedicating oneself to adhyatma and dharma can be attained only by first experiencing sexual satisfaction. In the midst of the drudgery and struggle that we sometimes endure during the course of our Earthly lives, it is vitally important that we remember the joy found in kama, and that in kama we can achieve transformation of the body and soul. This is a blissful, euphoric blend based on an ancient Indian love potion: honey, date palm, tuberose, davana blossom, amber, white sandalwood, vanilla bean, Damask rose, and champaca flower. LUPERCI 2008 Piss off, Saint Valentine! Lupercalia is an ancient Roman celebration, held on February 15th, that kicked in the advent of Spring with a very, very festive purification, fertility and sexuality ritual. The ritual began near the cave of Lupercal on the Palatine, an area sacred to Faunus, as well as Ruminia, Romulus and Remus. During Lupercalia, Vestal Virgins first made offerings of sacred cakes to the fig tree under which the she-wolf suckled the Sacred Twins. A dog and two goats were then offered in sacrifice to Faunus. The blood of the sacrifice was smeared onto two naked patrician youths, who were assisted by the Virgins, and the blood was wiped clean with sacred wool dipped in milk. The youths donned the skins of the sacrificial goats, wielding whips made from the goat skins, and then led the priests and the Virgins around the pomarium, and around the base hills of Rome. This was a ceremony of great happiness and merriment, and was of particular interest to young women: being touched by the goat-whips young men that led the procession ensured their fertility in the coming year. It is believed that, after the initial rite, male participants would draw the name of an available maiden, with whom he spent the rest of the night. This scent is for the Luperci, the Chosen of Faunus, the Brothers of the Wolf: raw, down and dirty patchouli, Gurjam balsam, and essence of Sampson Root sweetened with the heightened sexuality of beeswax, virile juniper, oakmoss, ambrette seed over honey and East African musk. PARLEMENT OF FOULES 2008 For the Valentine's Day purists. For this was on seynt Volantynys day Whan euery bryd comyth there to chese his mate. Medieval romance and courtly love. White rose and soft resins. RED LANTERN 2008 A tribute to the opium den cum bawdyhouses of Shanghai in the 1930's. Golden amber, blonde tobacco, Sudanese black coconut, rich caramel, black currant, white opium and delphinium laced with a sensual blend of Asian spice. SMUT 2008 Smut! Smut! Smut! Three swarthy, smutty musks sweetened with sugar and woozy with dark booze notes. VALENTINE OF ROME Many legends surround St. Valentine, and history has yet to show, conclusively, which ones are true and which are fiction. One tale claims that Valentine was a 3rd century Christian priest. When Emperor Claudius II declared that his soldiers were never to marry - the emperor believed that single men made better soldiers than those with wives and children - Valentine continued to perform wedding ceremonies in secret. When the emperor learned of Valentine's disobedience, he imprisoned the priest. The emperor chose to interrogate the priest himself, and despite his fury at his orders being flagrantly disobeyed, he was impressed with the priest's intelligence, wisdom, and passion. He attempted to convert the priest to the Roman faith, and was furious when he failed. While incarcerated, Valentine fell in love with his jailor's blind daughter. Through God's grace and the power of Valentine's pure and true love for this woman, he was able to cure her blindness with a touch. Before he was beaten and beheaded, he sent her a letter expressing his feelings for her, signed 'From Your Valentine'. Ecclesiastical incense, Roman flora, and the fruits of martyrdom: cypress, olive blossom, frankincense, myrrh, and blood accord. ++ LUPERCALIA: LOVE POEMS A FAREWELL TO FALSE LOVE Sir Walter Raleigh Farewell, false love, the oracle of lies, A mortal foe and enemy to rest, An envious boy, from whom all cares arise, A bastard vile, a beast with rage possessed, A way of error, a temple full of treason, In all effects contrary unto reason. A poisoned serpent covered all with flowers, Mother of sighs, and murderer of repose, A sea of sorrows whence are drawn such showers As moisture lend to every grief that grows; A school of guile, a net of deep deceit, A gilded hook that holds a poisoned bait. A fortress foiled, which reason did defend, A siren song, a fever of the mind, A maze wherein affection finds no end, A raging cloud that runs before the wind, A substance like the shadow of the sun, A goal of grief for which the wisest run. A quenchless fire, a nurse of trembling fear, A path that leads to peril and mishap, A true retreat of sorrow and despair, An idle boy that sleeps in pleasure's lap, A deep mistrust of that which certain seems, A hope of that which reason doubtful deems. Sith then thy trains my younger years betrayed, And for my faith ingratitude I find; And sith repentance hath my wrongs bewrayed, Whose course was ever contrary to kind: False love, desire, and beauty frail, adieu. Dead is the root whence all these fancies grew. Pale lavender, sweet violet, balsam of Peru, and paperwhite narcissus. THE CLOD AND THE PEBBLE William Blake Love seeketh not Itself to please, Nor for itself hath any care; But for another gives its ease, And builds a Heaven in Hells despair. So sang a little Clod of Clay, Trodden with the cattle's feet; But a Pebble of the brook, Warbled out these metres meet. Love seeketh only Self to please, To bind another to Its delight: Joys in anothers loss of ease, And builds a Hell in Heavens despite. Rose otto, clove, patchouli, Indian sandalwood, nutmeg, and cedar. THE FLOWER SONG Unknown, Written during Egypt's New Kingdom To hear your voice is pomegranate wine to me: I draw life from hearing it. Could I see you with every glance, It would be better for me Than to eat or to drink. Pomegranate wine, lotus root, river reeds, hyssop, and barley. HER VOICE Oscar Wilde The wild bee reels from bough to bough With his furry coat and his gauzy wing. Now in a lily-cup, and now Setting a jacinth bell a-swing, In his wandering; Sit closer love: it was here I trow I made that vow, Swore that two lives should be like one As long as the sea-gull loved the sea, As long as the sunflower sought the sun -- It shall be, I said, for eternity 'Twixt you and me! Dear friend, those times are over and done, Love's web is spun. Look upward where the poplar trees Sway and sway in the summer air, Here in the valley never a breeze Scatters the thistledowns, but there Great winds blow fair From the mighty murmuring mystical seas, And the wave-lashed leas. Look upward where the white gull screams What does it see that we do not see? Is that a star? or the lamp that gleams On some outward voyaging argosy, -- Ah! can it be We have lived our lives in land of dreams! How sad it seems. Sweet, there is nothing left to say But this, that love is never lost. Keen winter stabs the breasts of May Whose crimson roses burst his frost, Ships tempest-tossed Will find a harbour in some bay, And so we may. And there is nothing left to do But to kiss once again, and part, Nay, there is nothing we should rue, I have my beauty, -- you your Art. Nay, do not start, One world was not enough for two Like me and you. Hyacinth, beeswax, wild roses, vanilla amber, lily of the valley, tiger lily, honeysuckle, carnation, and heliotrope. LA VITA NUOVA Dante Alighieri In that book which is My memory... On the first page That is the chapter when I first met you Appear the words... Here begins a new life Apple blossom, white rose, lemon balm, and champagne grape. LONGING Matthew Arnold Come to me in my dreams, and then By day I shall be well again. For then the night will more than pay The hopeless longing of the day. Come, as thou cam'st a thousand times, A messenger from radiant climes, And smile on thy new world, and be As kind to others as to me. Or, as thou never cam'st in sooth, Come now, and let me dream it truth. And part my hair, and kiss my brow, And say My love! why sufferest thou? Come to me in my dreams, and then By day I shall be well again. For then the night will more than pay The hopeless longing of the day. Rose geranium, frankincense, Ceylon cinnamon, golden musk, bay rum, and bois du rose. LOVE'S PHILOSOPHY Percy Bysshe Shelley The fountains mingle with the river, And the rivers with the ocean; The winds of heaven mix forever, With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one another's being mingle; -- Why not I with thine? See! the mountains kiss high heaven, And the waves clasp one another; No sister flower would be forgiven, If it disdained it's brother; And the sunlight clasps the earth, And the moonbeams kiss the sea; -- What are all these kissings worth, If thou kiss not me? Vanilla, saffron, and cream. NIGHT THOUGHTS Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Stars, you are unfortunate, I pity you, Beautiful as you are, shining in your glory, Who guide seafaring men through stress and peril And have no recompense from gods or mortals, Love you do not, nor do you know what love is. Hours that are aeons urgently conducting Your figures in a dance through the vast heaven, What journey have you ended in this moment, Since lingering in the arms of my beloved I lost all memory of you and midnight. Lilac, blue musk, dianthus, cedar, neroli, ozone, and luminous Eastern herbs. THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE Christopher Marlowe Come live with me and be my love, And we will all the pleasures prove, That valleys, groves, hills and fields, Woods or steepy mountains yields. And we will sit upon the rocks, Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks By shallow rivers, to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals. And I will make thee beds of roses, And a thousand fragrant posies, A cap of flowers and a kirtle Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle; A gown made of the finest wool, Which from our pretty lambs we pull; Fair-lined slippers for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold; A belt of straw and ivy buds, With coral clasps and amber studs; And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my love. The shepherd swains shall dance and sing For thy delight each May morning; If these delights thy mind may move, Then live with me and be my love. Heather, clover, Irish moss, English ivy, tea rose, and carnation. THE PRESENCE OF LOVE Samuel Taylor Coleridge And in Life's noisiest hour, There whispers still the ceaseless Love of Thee, The heart's Self-solace and soliloquy. ______________________ You mould my Hopes, you fashion me within; And to the leading Love-throb in the Heart Thro' all my Being, thro' my pulses beat; You lie in all my many Thoughts, like Light, Like the fair light of Dawn, or summer Eve On rippling Stream, or cloud-reflecting Lake. And looking to the Heaven, that bends above you, How oft ! I bless the Lot, that made me love you. White musk, rose-swirled amber, pink grapefruit, and jasmine. SAPPHICS Algernon Charles Swinburne All the night sleep came not upon my eyelids, Shed not dew, nor shook nor unclosed a feather, Yet with lips shut close and with eyes of iron Stood and beheld me. Then to me so lying awake a vision Came without sleep over the seas and touched me, Softly touched mine eyelids and lips; and I too, Full of the vision, Saw the white implacable Aphrodite, Saw the hair unbound and the feet unsandalled Shine as fire of sunset on western waters; Saw the reluctant Feet, the straining plumes of the doves that drew her, Looking always, looking with necks reverted, Back to Lesbos, back to the hills whereunder Shone Mitylene; Heard the flying feet of the Loves behind her Make a sudden thunder upon the waters, As the thunder flung from the strong unclosing Wings of a great wind. So the goddess fled from her place, with awful Sound of feet and thunder of wings around her; While behind a clamour of singing women Severed the twilight. Ah the singing, ah the delight, the passion! All the Loves wept, listening; sick with anguish, Stood the crowned nine Muses about Apollo; Fear was upon them, While the tenth sang wonderful things they knew not. Ah the tenth, the Lesbian! the nine were silent, None endured the sound of her song for weeping; Laurel by laurel, Faded all their crowns; but about her forehead, Round her woven tresses and ashen temples White as dead snow, paler than grass in summer, Ravaged with kisses, Shone a light of fire as a crown for ever. Yea, almost the implacable Aphrodite Paused, and almost wept; such a song was that song. Yea, by her name too Called her, saying, "Turn to me, O my Sappho;" Yet she turned her face from the Loves, she saw not Tears for laughter darken immortal eyelids, Heard not about her Fearful fitful wings of the doves departing, Saw not how the bosom of Aphrodite Shook with weeping, saw not her shaken raiment, Saw not her hands wrung; Saw the Lesbians kissing across their smitten Lutes with lips more sweet than the sound of lute-strings, Mouth to mouth and hand upon hand, her chosen, Fairer than all men; Only saw the beautiful lips and fingers, Full of songs and kisses and little whispers, Full of music; only beheld among them Soar, as a bird soars Newly fledged, her visible song, a marvel, Made of perfect sound and exceeding passion, Sweetly shapen, terrible, full of thunders, Clothed with the wind's wings. Then rejoiced she, laughing with love, and scattered Roses, awful roses of holy blossom; Then the Loves thronged sadly with hidden faces Round Aphrodite, Then the Muses, stricken at heart, were silent; Yea, the gods waxed pale; such a song was that song. All reluctant, all with a fresh repulsion, Fled from before her. All withdrew long since, and the land was barren, Full of fruitless women and music only. Now perchance, when winds are assuaged at sunset, Lulled at the dewfall, By the grey sea-side, unassuaged, unheard of, Unbeloved, unseen in the ebb of twilight, Ghosts of outcast women return lamenting, Purged not in Lethe, Clothed about with flame and with tears, and singing Songs that move the heart of the shaken heaven, Songs that break the heart of the earth with pity, Hearing, to hear them. Tonka, oakmoss, tolu balsam, grey amber, myrrh, and muguet. THE RAGGED WOOD William Butler Yeats O, hurry, where by water, among the trees, The delicate-stepping stag and his lady sigh, When they have looked upon their images Would none had ever loved but you and I! Or have you heard that sliding silver-shoed Pale silver-proud queen-woman of the sky, When the sun looked out of his golden hood? O, that none ever loved but you and I! O hurry to the ragged wood, for there I will drive all those lovers out and cry O, my share of the world, O, yellow hair! No one has ever loved but you and I. Lily of the Valley, star jasmine, benzoin, vanilla, plumeria, bergamot, Terebinth pine, juniper berry, and tea rose. TO HELEN Edgar Allan Poe I saw thee once - once only - years ago: I must not say how many - but not many. It was a July midnight; and from out A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring, Sought a precipitate pathway up through heaven, There fell a silvery-silken veil of light, With quietude, and sultriness, and slumber, Upon the upturned faces of a thousand Roses that grew in an enchanted garden, Where no wind dared to stir, unless on tiptoe Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses That gave out, in return for the love-light, Their odorous souls in an ecstatic death Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses That smiled and died in this parterre, enchanted By thee, and by the poetry of thy presence. Clad all in white, upon a violet bank I saw thee half reclining; while the moon Fell on the upturn'd faces of the roses, And on thine own, upturn'd - alas, in sorrow! Was it not Fate, that, on this July midnight Was it not Fate, (whose name is also Sorrow,) That bade me pause before that garden-gate, To breathe the incense of those slumbering roses? No footstep stirred: the hated world an slept, Save only thee and me. (Oh, Heaven! oh, God! How my heart beats in coupling those two words!) Save only thee and me. I paused - I looked And in an instant all things disappeared. (Ah, bear in mind this garden was enchanted!) The pearly lustre of the moon went out: The mossy banks and the meandering paths, The happy flowers and the repining trees, Were seen no more: the very roses' odors Died in the arms of the adoring airs. All - all expired save thee - save less than thou: Save only the divine light in thine eyes Save but the soul in thine uplifted eyes. I saw but them - they were the world to me! I saw but them - saw only them for hours, Saw only them until the moon went down. What wild heart-histories seemed to he enwritten Upon those crystalline, celestial spheres! How dark a woe, yet how sublime a hope! How silently serene a sea of pride! How daring an ambition; yet how deep How fathomless a capacity for love! But now, at length, dear Dian sank from sight, Into a western couch of thunder-cloud; And thou, a ghost, amid the entombing trees Didst glide away. Only thine eyes remained; They would not go - they never yet have gone; Lighting my lonely pathway home that night, They have not left me (as my hopes have) since; They follow me - they lead me through the years. They are my ministers - yet I their slave. Their office is to illumine and enkindle My duty, to be saved by their bright light, And purified in their electric fire, And sanctified in their elysian fire. They fill my soul with Beauty (which is Hope), And are far up in Heaven - the stars I kneel to In the sad, silent watches of my night; While even in the meridian glare of day I see them still - two sweetly scintillant Venuses, unextinguished by the sun! Electric ozone, opaline notes, moonflower, white amber, beeswax, and three roses. And last, but not least, a temporary wing has been added to the Salon. Novel Ideas For Secret Amusements is a Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab Salon Limited Edition series celebrating the joy, humor, playfulness, and thrill of sexual intercourse through scent interpretations of Edo era Japanese erotic art. This exhibit contains explicit depictions of sexual acts and nudity, and viewer discretion is advised. Earth Rat, Parentalia, and all of our Lupercalia blends are $17.50, with the exception of the Salon Limited Edition series, Novel Ideas For Secret Amusements, which are $27.50 each. The Yule, Anniversary, and Resurrected blends will be available until January 15, 2008. The Lupercalia blends, Earth Rat, and Parentalia, will be available until March 23, 2008. The Black Phoenix Trading Post update will be live soon, and we'll be back for Lunacy! From the Midwinter 2007 update: Happy Yuletide, boys and girls! We have two offerings for this month's Lunacy: OLD MOON The cold earth slept below; Above the cold sky shone; And all around, With a chilling sound, From caves of ice and fields of snow The breath of night like death did flow Beneath the sinking moon. The wintry hedge was black; The green grass was not seen; The birds did rest On the bare thorn's breast, Whose roots, beside the pathway track, Had bound their folds o'er many a crack Which the frost had made between. Thine eyes glow'd in the glare Of the moon's dying light; As a fen-fire's beam On a sluggish stream Gleams dimly-so the moon shone there, And it yellow'd the strings of thy tangled hair, That shook in the wind of night. The moon made thy lips pale, belov'd; The wind made thy bosom chill; The night did shed On thy dear head Its frozen dew, and thou didst lie Where the bitter breath of the naked sky Might visit thee at will. A dark, still winter's night. The cold, white moon shines on frozen ground dusted with silent snow: evergreen, juniper, winterberry holly, bayberry, Viking black chokeberry, hemlock, and yew, ice-rimed, gilded by traditional lunar herbs and flowers. AQUARIUS 2007 Fixed air: the essence of idealism. Wisteria, myrrh, anise, galbanum, bryony, and pomegranate. The Wheel of the Julian/Gregorian Year is completed, and with 2007's passing went the last of our shapeshifter LE's. And new at Black Phoenix Trading Post:  Both the Lunacy scents and the Lunacy tee will be live until December 26, 2007. In order to make room for several upcoming series and single shot additions to portions of our general catalogue, we are forced to cull the herd. The following blends are being discontinued. They will be offline when the January Lunacy comes down on January 24, 2008. Ahathoor Asphodel Calliope Clio Erato Euterpe Goneril Hamadryad Kostnice Melpomene Penthus Phantom Polyhymnia Rage Shroud Terpsichore Thaleia Urania Vinland Yerevan LVRH: Ahathoor LVRH: Khephra LVRH: Ra LVRH: Tum Have a safe, sane, and sexy winter season, everyone! From the 21 November 2007 update: Blue Moon threw us for a loop this year, so this month we are doing something a little different for Lunacy. Old skool Lunacies will resume, as scheduled, next month. SEA OF TRANQUILITY Look how the pale Queen of the silent night doth cause the ocean to attend upon her, and he, as long as she is in sight, with his full tide is ready here to honor; But when the silver waggon of the Moon is mounted up so high he cannot follow, the sea calls home his crystal waves to morn, and with low ebb doth manifest his sorrow. Silver-dusted lotus, white amber, rose otto, passion flower, white sandalwood, buttonweed, and white poppy. TANUKI Tan Tan Tanuki no kintama wa, Kaze mo nai no ni, Bura bura! The mischievous sake-swigging, debt-riddled shapeshifting raccoon dog. These creatures carry a fistfuls of counterfeit cash and wear leaves from Buddha's sacred lotus atop their heads. Their kin-tama -- golden balls -- are so large that they can swing them over their shoulders like backpacks, and are so taut that they can play them like drums. They are masters at the art of transformation, and live to overindulge in wine and women. A scent of hedonistic, uninhibited joy: bamboo reed, plum blossom, persimmon, magnolia, black pine, sweet osmanthus, flowering cherry, mandarin orange, wisteria, and yuzu. CAPRICORN 2007 Cardinal earth: the essence of control. Solomon's Seal, pine, amaranth, ambrette, cypress, wild tobacco, and hemp. Sea of Tranquility and Tanuki are $17.50 each, and Capricorn 2007 is $20.00. The Lunacy (both BPAL and BPTP) will be live until approximately 9pm PST on Monday, November 26, 2007. Tonight, there's a gigantic BPTP update. Check out the Trading Post New Schtuff Page! Happy holidays, everyone! From the 18 November 2007 update: As of November 25, 2007, the Poe Collection will be available at Dark Delicacies in Burbank, CA. We will be kick-starting it with them at the Dark Delicacies shop from 2-5pm on that day. Dark Delicacies 4213 W. Burbank Blvd Burbank, CA 91505 818-556-6660 888-DARKDEL This month marks DD's 13th Anniversary, and to commemorate it, we have created Black Lace: the embodiment of Victorian funereal elegance. A delicate sugar-spun vanilla cream cotton, stained by tobacco and incense smoke, Indian musk, and drops of cognac. Black Lace will be available through Dark Delicacies as of November 25th, and will be on sale during our trunk show that day. The Salon: Traveling Exhibition is available at the following fine shops: Le Pink & Co. 3820 W. Sunset Blvd. Los Angeles, CA 90026 323-661-PINK Nail Polish Etc. 1140 Cocoa Ave Hershey, PA 17033 717-312-0444 Whole Foods Market aka Harry's Farmer's Market 1180 Upper Hembree Rd. Roswell, GA 770-664-6300 Our links page is in a constant state of flux. Check it out, if you have some spare time. There's some pretty nifty stuff there. =) Aaaaaaaand Happy friggin' birthday, BPAL! To celebrate five glorious years of depravity, debauch, and decadence, we present our anniversary scents: two chromatic phoenixes, Blood Phoenix, Mechanical Phoenix, and one resurrected blend! The four phoenixes represent some of what we strive for at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab. ++ 5TH ANNIVERSARY BLOOD PHOENIX Blood: expressing passion, will, and a sensual aesthetic. Dragon's blood resin, helichrysum, burgundy wine grape, red musk, opoponax, red poppy, myrrh, carnation, tonka, almond, mimosa, jonquil, and neroli. GREEN PHOENIX Green, for growth, expansion, prosperity, and stability. Sage, white mint, grey amber, papaya pulp, crushed grass, cucumber, green musk, green tea, and lime rind. MECHANICAL PHOENIX A mechanical construct: illustrating strong work ethic, determination, creativity, and innovation. Copper gears, brass cogs, fused wiring, scorched iron, and motor oil. WHITE PHOENIX White, for acting in good conscience and doing our best to give back to the community. Frangipani, magnolia, cotton flower, osmanthus, crystal musk, ambrette, white orchid, sugar cane, davana, white sandalwood, petitgrain, lavender, and lotus root. ++ RESURRECTED MIDWAY RESURRECTED From our dead and buried 2005 / 2006 Carnaval Noir line. A bombardment of edible carnival indulgences. Funnel cake, caramel apple, cotton candy, salt water taffy and sugar tart. All of our Anniversary blends are $20.00 each, and Midway: Resurrected is $17.50. They will be live until January 15, 2008. Five years? Holy crap! A million thanks to our beloved customers for making this possible. We look forward to the opportunity to share our dreams, nightmares, and desires with you until Kingdom Come! From the 24 October 2007 update: Praise to the Neil! Praise to the Terry! We are thrilled to present four new Good Omens scents, and two new Stardust scents! ++ GOOD OMENS FAMINE It was not surprising that she had recognized him, for his dark grey eyes stared out from his photo on the foil-embossed cover. Foodless Dieting: Slim Yourself Beautiful, the book was called; The Diet Book of the Century! Sleek black tea, tobacco leaf, frankincense, lilac, and white musk. MADAME TRACY Newt had been amazed to find that Madam Tracy was a middle-aged, motherly soul, whose gentleman callers called as much for a cup of tea and a nice chat as for what little discipline she was still able to exact. A coquettish blend of tea rose, ume blossom, geranium, lily of the valley, violet, and heliotrope. POLLUTION "Excuse me," barked Tyler. "Is that your crisp packet?" "Oh, it's not just mine," said the boy. "It's everybody's." R.P. Tyler drew himself up to his full height. "Young man,' he said, "how would you feel if I came over to your house and dropped litter everywhere?" Pollution smiled, wistfully. 'Very, very pleased,' he breathed. "Oh, that would be wonderful." Beneath his bike an oil slick puddled a rainbow on the wet road. A toxic chypre: radioactive green musk, davana, and oozing white amber. It wasn't a dark and stormy night. It should have been, but that's the weather for you. For every mad scientist who's had a convienient thunderstorm just on the night his Great Work is finished and lying on the slab, there have been dozens who've sat around aimlessly under the peaceful stars while Igor racks up the overtime. But don't let the fog (with rain later, temperatures dropping to around forty-five degrees) give anyone a false sense of security. Just because it's a mild night doesn't mean that dark forces aren't abroad. They're abroad all the time. They're everywhere. They always are. That's the whole point. Two of them lurked in a ruined graveyard. Two shadowy figures, one hunched and squat, the other lean and menacing, both of them Olympic-grade lurkers. If Bruce Springsteen had ever recorded "Born to Lurk," these two would have been on the album cover. They had been lurking in the fog for over an hour now, but they had been pacing themselves and could lurk for the rest of the night if necessary, with still enough sullen menace left for a final burst of lurking around dawn. Finally, after another twenty minutes, one of them said: "Bugger this for a lark. He should have been here hours ago." The speaker's name was Hastur. He was a Duke of Hell. HASTUR Smoky-sour labdanum, black patchouli, wet tobacco, and brimstone. "What's this Crowley like?" said Ligur. Hastur spat. "He's been up here too long," he said. "Right from the Start. Gone native, if you ask me. Drives a car with a telephone in it." Ligur pondered this. Like most demons, he had a very limited grasp of technology, and so he was just about to say something like, I bet it needs a lot of wire, when the Bentley rolled to a halt at the cemetery gate. LIGUR Dry olibanum, black moss, soggy ti, khus, and opoponax. ++ STARDUST FAIRY WINE Mr. Bromios had set up a wine-tent and was selling wines and pasties to the village folk, who were often tempted by the foods being sold by the folk from Beyond the Wall but had been told by their grandparents, who had got it from their grandparents, that it was deeply, utterly wrong to eat fairy food, to drink fairy water and sip fairy wine. An ethereal vintage, steeped with dandelion, honey, and red currants. LADY UNA "Why, you are crying." She said nothing. Dunstan pulled her toward him, wiping ineffectually at her face with his big hand; and then he leaned into her sobbing face, and, tentatively, uncertain of whether or not he was doing the correct thing given the circumstances, he kissed her, full upon the burning lips. There was a moment of hesitation, and then her mouth opened against his, and her tongue slid into his mouth, and he was, under the strange stars, utterly, irrevocably, lost. Honey musk, green tea leaf, blackberry leaf, vanilla bean, and fae spices. As always, these are not-for-profit scents. The proceeds from the Stardust series benefit the noble Comic Book Legal Defense Fund, and the proceeds from the Good Omens series are split between the CBLDF and the Orangutan Foundation UK. The Lunacies and Suspiciendo Despicio blends are live, and will be up until October 27, 2007. ++ LIMITED EDITION LONG NIGHT MOON The nights are at their longest, the sky is at its darkest. The air is still with reflective silence. A bouquet of night-blooming flowers, petals dusted with frost. Cereus, moonflower accord, night phlox, honeysuckle, silver thyme, white mint, and blue musk. SAGITTARIUS Mutable Fire: the essence of striving. Sage, clove, dandelion, balm of gilead, fig, and chamomile. IVANUSHKA Soft, velvety fur and warm musk, brushed by forest woods and dusted by dry leaves. At BPTP, the Long Night Moon tee is live:  The tee will be up until October 27, 2007. Because of many factors - not the least of which is the upcoming nuptials - the bulk of what was going to go live at BPTP is on hold for a few weeks. Thank you for understanding! I know I'm usually more loquacious than this, but the Z-pack is giving me a bellyache, so I'm off to drool a bit on the couch while I watch everything that's been building up on my tivo for the past month! By next update, your faithful narrator will be a married woman. Eek! Cheers! From the 12 October 2007 update: The weather is getting blissfully gloomy, and to help usher in the delightful chill, we are thrilled to present the Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab Yuletide scents! ANGERONALIA Angeronalia, also called Divalia, is a Roman festival that takes place at the Winter Solstice. This celebration honors the Goddess Angerona. The Lady of Silence and Secrets is also She Who Stands As the Protector of Rome, and she is represented with her mouth bound, or with her index finger held over her mouth, commanding silence. On this day, the Goddess was implored to grant her children strength and protection. And, as it was believed that Angerona and Voluptia, the Goddess of Joy and Pleasure, were one and the same, sacrifices were made at the temple to Voluptia in order to drive sorrow, regret, and pain from the hearts of the people. Strength, passion, and the cleansing fire of joy: olive blossom, white nectarine, vibrant blood orange, honey absolute, lemongrass, elemi, sensual patchouli, and the quiet purity of gardenia. ARCHANGEL WINTER In the dread circle hemmed by glaciers, Pallid waste where no radiant fathomers, Columbuses or Gamas, ever pass, In realms of dingy gloom and deep crevasse Seized from creation by nonentity, Beyond ice floe and berg and ice-bound sea, Deep in the fog that quenches every ray, In stone waves and rock waters, far from day, Amid the gloom, there, on the pole, stands black Archangel Winter, darkness on his back And trumpet at his lips; nor does he cast One flash of eye, or blow one clarion-blast; He never even dreams, being sheer snow; The winged winds, captives of that age-old foe Silence, are in his hand-birds in a snare; His sightless eyes horribly watch the air; Hoarfrost is in his bones and on his head, And he is swathed in ever-petrified dread; He terrifies the Vast, he seems so wild; He is harsh, dismal, ice-that is, exiled; The earth beneath his feet, in its dark cape, Is dumb; he is the mute white stony shape Set on that tomb in the eternal night; Never does any motion, sound, or light Brush the lone giant in that somber pall. But when, on the timepieces that we call Stars, the last day, endless and centerless, Will sound, then the Lord's face will luminesce And melt the spirit; his mouth will distend Suddenly, in a savage, dreadful bend, And the worlds-skiffs rudderless, rolling on -- Will hear the storm-blast of his clarion. Crystalline, glassy ice whipped by a snowstorm. Piercing ozone, winter darkness. CHANUKKIYAH Baruch ata Ado-nai, Elo-heinu Melech ha'olam, Asher kid'shanu b'mitzvosav v'tzivanu l'hadlik ner shel Chanukah. Baruch ata Ado-nai, Elo-heinu Melech ha'olam, She'asah nisim la'avoseinu, bayamim ha'hem baz'man hazeh. Baruch ata Ado-nai, Elo-heinu Melech ha'olam, She'hecheyanu, vekiyemanu vehigi'anu laz'man hazeh. Olive oil, beeswax, glowing amber, sweet sufganiyot, pomegranate, and fig. Ha'Neiros halalu anachnu madlikin al hanisim ve'al hanifla'os, ve'al hat'shu'os ve'al hamilchamos, sh'asisa la'avoseinu bayamim hahem baz'man hazeh, al yedei kohaneicha hakedoshim. Vechol sh'monas yemei Chanukah, haneiros halalu kodesh hem. Ve'ein lanu reshus le'hishtamesh ba'hem, eh'la lir'osam bilvad, ke'dei le'hodos u'lehalel leshimcha hagadol al nisecha ve'al nifle'osecha ve'al yeshu'oshecha. Ma'oz tzur yeshu'asi Lecha na'eh leshabe'ach Tikone bais tefilasi Ve'sham todah nezabe'ach Le'es Tachin Mabe'ach Mitzar ham'nabe'ach Az egmor beshir mizmor Chanukas hamizbe'ach. CHRISTMAS ROSE Bruise-tinted hellebore blossoms pushing through snowdrifts. DIWALI The Festival of Lights, a celebration of life, prosperity, and the triumph of good over evil, light over darkness, and knowledge over ignorance. The first day, Dhanvantari Triodasi, honors Lakshmi, the Goddess of Wealth, Good Fortune, and Splendor, and Yama, Lord of Death and the Keeper of the Book of Destiny. The second day, Narak-Chaturdashi, celebrates Lord Krishna's victory over the demon lord, Narkasur. On this day, fierce Kali, the Great and Terrible Mother, is venerated, and she is entreated to grant her children strength. Narak-Chaturdashi also commemorates the birth of Hanuman, the vanara who helped Lord Rama rescue Sita from Ravana, the Rakshasa king. The third day, called Diwali, is wholly devoted to the worship and propitiation of Lakshmi, She Who is as Beautiful as a Lotus. The fourth day, Annakut, is the first day of the lunar New Year. Old accounts are settled, new ventures begin. On the fifth and final day of Diwali, Bhayiduj, sibling love is celebrated. It is a time to banish ignorance and hate, and to dissolve jealousy. It is a time to renew our spirits through light and understanding, and to ask for blessings of prosperity and joy for the upcoming year. It is a time where we embrace our friends and forgive our enemies. Lotus root, mango, tamarind, cardamom, clove, almond milk, cashew, rice flower, coconut, supari, raisins, and incense crafted from aloeswood, red sandalwood, cedar, and spikenard. EGG NOG 2007 Sweet brandy, dark rum, heavy cream, sugar, and a dash of nutmeg. EL DIA DE REYES The Day of Kings, the Celebration of the Magi. In Mexico, on January 6th, children place their shoes by their windows. If they have been good during the previous year, the Wise Men tuck gifts into their shoes during the night. Hot cocoa with cinnamon, coffee, and brown sugar. THE FRUIT OF PARADISE While Persephone visited the realm of Hades, she tasted one single pomegranate seed, an act which compelled her to remain connected to the Land of the Dead for all eternity. Demeter's grief over her beloved daughter's absence that brings on the bleakness and barrenness of the winter months. The Fruit of Paradise, the Nectar of Death: bittersweet pomegranate, nurtured and cultivated in the hollow darkness of the Underworld. GINGERBREAD POPPET 2007 Warm, cozy gingerbread spiced with nutmeg, clove and cinnamon. HALOA 2007 Sacred to both Demeter and Dionysus, this is a celebration of the of the pruning of the vines, the first fermentation of the year's wine, and of the consecration of the next year's planting. The service was lead by the heterai and the Eleusinian Arkhontes, and began with the preparation of a banquet that honors Demeter's bounty and the fertility aspect of Dionysus with pudenda- and phallus-shaped cakes. After the preliminary feast, the magistrates departed, and the heterai held a second rite that consisted of copious wine consumption, ritual symbolic fornication, and formal offerings of incense, grain, and cakes to sacred statues of the deities and to clay images of genitalia. Finally, the magistrates and priests were permitted to rejoin the ritual. A Priest and Priestess bore torches that symbolize Demeter and her daughter Persephone presided over the final ceremony, which culminated in the ultimate celebration of fertility: an orgy that lasted til dawn. Wine grapes, myrrh, frankincense and olive leaf, and the warm scent of offertory cakes. JOLASVEINAR 2007 The Jólasveinar are the seventy-some offspring of Grýla and Leppalúði, an ogre couple with a taste for chomping naughty children. This impish brood delights in causing discomfort, sowing confusion, and all-out raising hell during the Yule season. Their names are indicative of their malicious intentions -- Strap Loosener, Door Slammer, Window Peeper, Sausage Snatcher, Doorway Sniffer, Icebreaker -- and their creepy natures -- Lamp Shadow, Smoke Gulper, Crevice Imp. The devillish Jólasveinar finally cease their mischief and head for home at Þrettándinn. Their scent is a mishmash of snow, dirt, Icelandic moss, marsh felwort, and the smushed petals of buttercups and moorland spotted orchids, with the barest hint of the scent of pilfered Christmas pastries. KRAMPUS 2007 Anything BUT jolly! Draped with chains and bells, wielding both whip and rod, this rag-clad, horned, red-skinned, soot-covered leering creature is both the companion and the antithesis of rosy-cheeked and ebullient Kris Kringle. He is called by many names, and, in a myriad of cultures, he is seen with different robes and faces, but he is nevertheless always a sinister and fearsome instrument of Santa's wrath: he wields a switch on all irredeemably naughty children before tossing them into his large black sack and whisking them away. Be good, or Krampus will toss you in a river! Sinister red musk, black leather, dusty rags, and wooden switches. LA BEFANA On the night of the Epiphany, a joyful, broomstick-riding hag clad in a tattered shawl drops into chimneys all over Italy, bestowing gifts to good children, and dropping coal into the stockings of naughty kiddies. La Befana vien di notte Con le scarpe tutte rotte Col vestito alla Romana Viva, Viva La Befana! As the Three Wise Men searched for the house of the Christ child, they found themselves lost. Eventually, they stopped at a small house and knocked on the door. A small, wizened woman opened the door, holding a broom in her hand. The Astrologers asked the woman if she knew the location of the child, but, unfortunately, she did not know who these men were looking for, and could not aid them in their search. It was deep into the night, and the air was chilly, so the kindly woman offered the three men her hospitality. They spent the night in her warm, comfortable home, and shared bread and stories with one another. The Astrologers explained to the woman why they were looking for this blessed infant, and invited her to join them in their search come morning. Though she was touched by their tale, she declined, as she had a great deal of housework to do. At daybreak, the Astrologers awoke. They thanked the woman for her generosity, gathered their things, and prepared to leave. Before they departed, they, again, asked the old woman if she would like to join them on their journey. Again, she declined, and sent them on their way. After they had left, she regretted her decision, and she set off to find the Three Wise Men. After many long and frustrating hours of searching, she still could not find them. Saddened, yet still filled with hope, she stopped to give a gift to every good child she passed. La Befana comes by night With her shoes old and broken She comes dressed in the Roman way Long life to the Befana! Candy charcoal, winter lilies, parma violet, a sprig of cypress, a poof of chimney dust, and holiday sweets. LICK IT ONE MORE TIME Every holiday season should be full of lewd suggestions and filthy double entendres, right? This is a new take on Lick It and Lick It Again -- a peppermint candy cane with a flash of vanilla and an extra jolt of sugar. (As always, we have to state: don't lick perfume. Don't eat it, drink it, cook with it, or use it in any strange and unforeseen way. Black Phoenix is not responsible for that sort of irresponsible funnybusiness.) MIDWINTER'S EVE 2007 A melancholy, deep scent, poignant and brimming with nostalgia. The perfume of sugared plums over a breeze of winter flowers. MISTLETOE 2007 The plant of peace in Norse tradition. If enemies met in the forest and came upon a sprig, they laid down their arms and observed a truce until the next sunrise. NOCHE BUENA A celebration of the Nativity: the light, uplifting incense of the Misa de Noche Buena, purple sage, and a vibrant bouquet of plumeria, chrysanthemum, tuberose, Angel's Trumpet, Mexican tiger lily, dahlia, and azucenas. NOVEMBER Yet one smile more, departing, distant sun! One mellow smile through the soft vapoury air, Ere, o'er the frozen earth, the loud winds ran, Or snows are sifted o'er the meadows bare. One smile on the brown hills and naked trees, And the dark rocks whose summer wreaths are cast, And the blue Gentian flower, that, in the breeze, Nods lonely, of her beauteous race the last. Yet a few sunny days, in which the bee Shall murmur by the hedge that skim the way, The cricket chirp upon the russet lea, And man delight to linger in thy ray. Yet one rich smile, and we will try to bear The piercing winter frost, and winds, and darkened air. Autumn leaves damp beneath the first snowfall. PEACOCK QUEEN 2007 In dramatic contrast to the soft innocence of Snow White and the dew-kissed freshness of her sister, Rose Red, this is a blood red, voluptuous rose, velvet-petaled, at the height of bloom. Haughty and imperious, vain, yet incomparably lovely to the eye, but thick with thorns of jealousy, pride and hatred. ROSE RED 2007 The perfected winter rose, dew covered and freshly cut. THE SHIVERING BOY Cold, cold forever more. A winter storm roaring through empty stone halls, bearing echoes of despair, desolation, and death on its winds. The scent of frozen, dormant vineyards, bitter sleet, and piercing ozone, hurled through labdanum, benzoin, and olibanum. THE SNOW STORM Announced by all the trumpets of the sky Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields, Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air Hides hills and woods, the river and the heaven, And veils the farm-house at the garden's end. The steed and traveller stopped, the courier's feet Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed In a tumultuous privacy of storm. Come, see the north wind's masonry. Out of an unseen quarry evermore Furnished with tile, the fierce artificer Curves his white bastions with projected roof Round every windward stake, or tree, or door. Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work So fanciful, so savage, naught cares he For number or proportion. Mockingly On coop or kennel he hangs Parian wreaths; A swan-like form invests the hidden thorn; Fills up the farmer's lane from wall to wall, Maugre the farmer's sighs, and at the gate A tapering turret overtops the work. And when his hours are numbered, and the world Is all his own, retiring, as he were not, Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone Built in an age, the mad wind's night-work, The frolic architecture of the snow. Winter aconite, balsam fir, cedar leaf, and white mint. SNOW WHITE 2007 A chilly, bright perfume: flurries of virgin snow, crisp winter wind and the faintest breath of night-blooming flowers. All of our Yule seasonal blends are $18.00 each. Rose Red, Snow White, and the Peacock Queen can be purchased together for $52.00US. The Halloween blends will be available until November 15, 2007, and the Yule blends will be available until January 15, 2007. A portion of every sale of our Yule holiday perfumes will benefit AIDS Project Los Angeles. AIDS Project Los Angeles is dedicated to improving the lives of people affected by HIV disease, reducing the incidence of HIV infection, and advocating for fair and effective HIV-related public policy. On the topic of charitable causes, on October 25th, the next Lunacy set will be live, along with Sagittarius and the newest Gaiman and Gaiman / Pratchett scents! As you know, the Neil Gaiman series and the Stardust series are a not-for-profit project whose proceeds go to the CBLDF, and the Good Omens series is a not-for-profit project that benefits the Orangutan Foundation UK. To date, we have raised over $22,000 for the CBLDF and over $3000 for the orangutans! HOLIDAY SHIPPING INFORMATION Orders placed after November 15, 2007 are not guaranteed to arrive before Christmas. Please understand that the mention of Christmas, as opposed to Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Diwali, or any other winter holiday is in now way a slam on faiths other than Christianity or a snub of the winter holidays of other cultures. For the sake of retail sanity, we simply have to mention ship-times during this season with relation to Christmas. Please do not tar and feather us. SOUTHERN BELLES AND GENTLEMEN! Please visit our newest retailer, Whole Foods in Roswell, GA. Whole Foods Market aka Harry's Farmer's Market 1180 Upper Hembree Rd. Roswell, GA 770.664.6300 Located in the Whole Body Department At this time, they are currently they are carrying 12 of our general catalog scents. If you get the chance, please pay them a visit. We love the guys at Whole Foods. They're wonderful people, a joy to work with, and we are proud to work with a company that espouses such a high ethical standards and gives so much back to the community. We will be working with them to try and accommodate BPAL and BPTP special orders, so stop by WF, say hello, and sniff some BPAL in person! A quick shout out before I collapse and / or start playing WOW: love and adoration for Julia at Arcana Soaps from Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab! She is a wonderful woman with a hell of a kick-ass product line. Between Arcana and Black Phoenix, no little kid will go without coal and candy in their stockings this year! From the 25 September 2007 update: The Beaver Moon update is live! BEAVER MOON Traditionally, Beaver Moon is named thus for a very obvious reason: during this time of year, beavers are hard at work building their dams and preparing for the onset of winter. However, we at BPAL rarely let an opportunity for sleazy campiness pass us by! For your pleasure and amusement, we present this year's incarnation of Beaver Moon: wild cherry with vanilla cream accord, and a hint of strawberry. SWAN MAIDEN Silent, 0 Moyle, be the roar of thy water; Break not, ye breezes, your chain of repose, While, murmuring mournfully, Lir's lovely daughter Tells to the night-star the tale of her woes. When shall the swan, her death-note singing, Sleep with wings in darkness furl'd? When will heaven, its sweet bells ringing, Call my spirit from this stormy world? Sadly, 0 Moyle, to thy winter-wave weeping, Fate bids me languish long ages away; Yet still in her darkness doth Erin lie sleeping, Still doth the pure light its dawning delay. When will that day-star, mildly springing, Warm our isle with peace and love? Call my spirit to the fields above? White gardenia, white iris, sandalwood, calla lily, French magnolia, muguet, jonquil, and orchid. SCORPIO 2007 Suspiciendo Despicio: Scorpio 2007 - 5ml Fixed Water: the essence of passion. Dark musk, wormwood, basil, dragon's blood resin, galangal, and opoponax. Also live this month, Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab scents inspired by Shojo Beat!  MIDNIGHT KISS Eternal desire, unquenchable passion: red musk, cocoa absolute, Nepalese amber, red sandalwood, aged patchouli, nicotiana, and blood wine. VAMPIRE TEARS Regret born from ceaseless longing: wisteria, white grapefruit, neroli, green tea, jasmine, white ginger, honeysuckle, iris, and tonka. The Shojo Beat scents, Midnight Kiss and Vampire Tears, will be available while supplies last. Four new pirate-themed scents have been added to the general catalogue: ++ WANDERLUST ÎLE DE LA TORTUE Home to the Brethren of the Coast and a notorious safe-haven for pirates, this island was once described as the common place of refuge for all sorts of wickedness, the seminary of pirates and thieves. Damp air trapped in limestone caverns, heady greenery, hothouse orchids, nicotiana blossoms, bois de chandel, elemi, palm wine, garambullo, pega-pega, flame of the forest, and a swirl of Haitian vetiver. WINDWARD PASSAGE Breezes blowing off of the waters of the Caribbean: marine accord, seaweed, and bladderwrack. ++ BEWITCHING BREWS KILL-DEVIL "Rum punch is not improperly called Kill-Devil; for thousands lose their lives by its means. When newcomers use it to the least excess, they expose themselves to imminent peril, for it heats the blood and brings on fevers, which in a very few hours send them to their graves." Sugar cane, molasses, oak wood, and honey. PLUNDER The scent of a pirate's bumboat, overflowing with stolen wares: tea leaf, cassia, cinnamon bark, clove, allspice, sandalwood, tobacco, peppercorn, and nutmeg. There will be an update in early October that will feature the Yuletide scents, new scents for the Neil Gaiman collections, new products at Black Phoenix Trading Post, and a little more this and that. The next act of Carnaval Diabolique will be up and running soon, likely midwinter. From the 26 August 2007 update: Happy Halloween, ladies and gents! New, for the holiday season ++ LUNACY HUNTER MOON As the winter encroaches, the time comes to embark on the last Great Hunts of the year. The deer are fattened, the fields have been reaped, and the light of the full moon illuminates the wild creatures that have come out to glean. This scent is redolent of night skies, falling leaves, and the high-pitched tension and release associated with the Hunt. Dry leaves, autumn bonfires, blood red wine, feral, animalistic notes and the chill of approaching winter. AEAEA This is her island squared in cypress lines; With cedar ranks about her alley walks Set frequent, and the faces of the boles Are crimson, deep as sunset stains of cloud. The floor between them, rank and overgrown, Is tangled with luxuriant heads of bloom, All in a mat together, mixed with sedge. There are bells of some wide wine-deep flowers, Great apple fruits and tawny orange globes; And bunchy cactus tipped in fire-bright buds. Grey aloe spikes and heavy curling vines, And speckled poison berries intertwined. Her groves lead down upon the light free waves; Her foam-heads dance and ripple into sound. The laughter of many birds is in her elms Jays, owls, sea-crows, larks, lapwings, nightingales, As jumbled as the flowers beneath their notes. The isle-grove ends abruptly on the sea, A stranded star-fish neighbors by the sward, Where the snail toils beneath his painted walls. Small seaward gust irresolute breathe near; And sweeter waftings, sent from the middle brine, Stir the deep grasses at her perfect feet, Where Circe, shining down the gaudy flowers, Leans centre-light of all this paradise. One ankle gleams against the margin turf, Just beyond where the wave-teeth cease to bite. And the sea-pinks grow less rosy at her feet. But this enchantress, island-queen, herself Bears on her head a bright tire marvelous, And for a girdle one of many dyes Woven and traced with curious pattern-spells. Her face is not at first so beautiful, That one should say 'Fear her, she will slay men And draw them into deaths by her strange ways, And some soft snare hid under all of her.' We must consider well upon her face, And the silent beauty of it all Begins upon us, grows and greatens on, Like sweet increasing music, chord on chord, Till all our being falters overthrown; And she lures out our soul into her hands, As faint and helpless as a new-born babe, To have her will and way with all of it. O, she, this Circe mage, is strange and great, And deadlier than those terrible bright forms, That beam out on us with their grace. Her love eats deeper to the core of men, Scathing and killing, fierce and unappeased; Until not only the divine in us, But all the human also (which indeed Are one, tho' this less perfect) fade and change, And fall corrupted into alien forms. Till we resemble those strange-headed things, Herded away behind her island throne, Chimaeras, tiger-apes, and wolfish swine. A dark ocean breeze, electric with adrenaline, magic, and fear, clashing with the thick scent of poisoned berries and spiny aloe, against a backdrop of snowdrop, cedar, and cypress. LIBRA 2007 Cardinal air: the essence of balance. Rose, black cherry, carnation, fig, honey, plum, and black currant. ++ HALLOWEEN BLENDS ALL SOULS 2007 A day of remembrance and intercession. Without the prayers and sacrifices of their families and loved ones, the faithful departed may not be cleansed of their venal sins, and thereby cannot attain beatific vision. On November 2nd, prayers are sung and offerings are made to aid lost souls in transcending purgatory. An incense blend that invokes the higher qualities of mercy and compassion, mingled with the soft, sugared currant scent of offertory soul cakes. BONFIRE NIGHT Guy Fawkes, Guy; Stick him up on high! Hang him on a lamp post And there let him die! Guy, Guy, Guy! Poke Him in the eye! Put him on the fire, And there let him die! Burn his body from his head: Then you'll say Guy Fawkes is dead! Hip, Hip, Hooray! Beer, woodsmoke, tar, and treacle. THE DEATH OF AUTUMN When reeds are dead and a straw to thatch the marshes, And feathered pampas-grass rides into the wind Like aged warriors westward, tragic, thinned Of half their tribe, and over the flattened rushes, Stripped of its secret, open, stark and bleak, Blackens afar the half-forgotten creek, -- Then leans on me the weight of the year, and crushes My heart. I know that Beauty must ail and die, And will be born again, -- but ah, to see Beauty stiffened, staring up at the sky! Oh, Autumn! Autumn! -- What is the Spring to me? Dark amber, dead leaves, khus, saffron, bitter clove, chrysanthemum, camellia, galangal, and a drop of oud. DIA DE LOS MUERTOS 2007 A joyous celebration of La Catarina, La Flaca, La Muerte Glorious, Beautiful Death. In Mexico, death is not something to be feared or hated; She is embraced, loved, and adored. La Muerte is fêted, as the celebrant " chases after it, mocks it, courts it, hugs it, sleeps with it; it is his favorite plaything and his most lasting love." This is a Mexican paean to La Huesuda: dry, crackling leaves, the incense smoke of altars honoring Death and the Dead, funeral bouquets, the candies, chocolates, foods and tobacco of the ofrenda, amaranth, sweet cactus blossom and desert cereus. OCTOBER AY, thou art welcome, heaven's delicious breath! When woods begin to wear the crimson leaf, And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief And the year smiles as it draws near its death. Wind of the sunny south! oh, still delay In the gay woods and in the golden air, Like to a good old age released from care, Journeying, in long serenity, away. In such a bright, late quiet, would that I Might wear out life like thee, 'mid bowers and brooks And dearer yet, the sunshine of kind looks, And music of kind voices ever nigh; And when my last sand twinkled in the glass, Pass silently from men, as thou dost pass. Dry, cold autumn wind. A rustle of red leaves, a touch of smoke and sap in the air. SAMHAIN 2007 Truly the scent of autumn itself -- damp woods, fir needle, and black patchouli with the gentlest touches of warm pumpkin, clove, nutmeg, allspice, sweet red apple and mullein. SAMHAINOPHOBIA 2007 The fear of Halloween. Menacing Haitian vetiver, patchouli, and clove with a shock of bourbon geranium, grim oakmoss, and dread-inspiring balsams pierce the innocuous scent of autumn leaves. ++ HALLOWEEN: the HAUNTED HOUSE We're going back to our campy, spooky roots with the Haunted House Collection! Seven Guignolesque, chilling atmospheric blends are being offered for your pleasure and amusement. THE ATROCIOUS ATTIC A shadowy shrine filled with forgotten toys, broken dolls. The altar: a collapsing trunk distended by a rotted wedding gown. The air of the room is dusty, laced with the scent of a child's perfume and the remnants of a dried, crumbling bridal bouquet: tea rose, violet, white sandalwood, French lavender, and Calla lily. THE CHILLING CELLAR Wine just turning to vinegar, crumbling mortar, red clay, and the coppery tang of old blood. THE FORBIDDING FOYER Thick shadows hang heavy across fungus-smeared, dilapidated wainscoting, cobwebs hang like fine lace across sagging mouldings, rats scuttle past gaping doorways. The faint scent of brimstone, ghostly breath laced with cognac, neglected mahogany panels, and rot. THE GHASTLY GARDEN Overgrown oleander, marshy water hemlock, the sugared nectar of carnivorous blooms, putrefying wet greenery, oozing sap, crushed rosary peas, withered climbing roses, and nightshade berries. THE LURID LIBRARY The incense-tinged scent of forbidden tomes and the musk-laden remnants of infernal servants. THE PERILOUS PARLOR A memory of pleasure passed. A ghostly rendezvous, delight beyond death. Faint echoes of laughter and the distorted music of a harp drift by, along with the scent of soft white pear and sweet vanilla. THE TWISTED OAK TREE Blackened, rotted oak wood blanketed in moss and choked by a cloak of grasping ivy. ++ HALLOWEEN: the PUMPKIN PATCH The 'Patch is back, with five new pumpkin blends to choose from. Pick individual pumpkins from the field, or snatch up the whole bushel! PUMPKIN I Pumpkin with pear, white wine grapes, and jasmine-laced tea. PUMPKIN II Pumpkin with tobacco, champaca flower, carnation, and tonka. PUMPKIN III Pumpkin with white chocolate, caramel, pomegranate, and cream. PUMPKIN IV Pumpkin with cactus blossom, sage, and sweetgrass. PUMPKIN V Pumpkin with benzoin, bourbon vanilla, lemon peel, neroli, blood orange, and red ginger. PUMPKIN PLUNDER If you purchase Pumpkin Plunder, you will receive an imp of a Murder of Crows: a scent created to compliment and complete the collection. What is a pumpkin field without crows? A Murder of Crows Sleek iris and verbena, grey amber, benzoin, davana, and glossy herbs. The general catalogue also has a few new additions: ++ BEWITCHING BREWS EVENT HORIZON A disconcerting scent, heavy and oppressive, through which no light, no matter, and no spirit can escape. Black opium, labdanum, opoponax, black orchid, and benzoin. MARY READ Salt air, ocean mist, aged patchouli, sarsaparilla, watered-down rum, leather-tinged musk, and a spray of gunpowder. SCHRODINGER'S CAT One can even set up quite ridiculous cases. A cat is penned up in a steel chamber, along with the following diabolical device (which must be secured against direct interference by the cat): in a Geiger counter there is a tiny bit of radioactive substance, so small that perhaps in the course of one hour one of the atoms decays, but also, with equal probability, perhaps none; if it happens, the counter tube discharges and through a relay releases a hammer which shatters a small flask of hydrocyanic acid. If one has left this entire system to itself for an hour, one would say that the cat still lives if meanwhile no atom has decayed. The first atomic decay would have poisoned it. The Psi function for the entire system would express this by having in it the living and the dead cat (pardon the expression) mixed or smeared out in equal parts. It is typical of these cases that an indeterminacy originally restricted to the atomic domain becomes transformed into macroscopic indeterminacy, which can then be resolved by direct observation. That prevents us from so naively accepting as valid a "blurred model" for representing reality. In itself it would not embody anything unclear or contradictory. There is a difference between a shaky or out-of-focus photograph and a snapshot of clouds and fog banks. A paradoxical scent experiment! - tangerine, sugared lime, pink grapefruit, oakmoss, lavender, zdravetz, and chocolate peppermint. No cats were mistreated during the formulation of this paradox, or in the process of creating this perfume. KUBLA KHAN In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round: And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery. But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover! A savage place! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover! And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, A mighty fountain momently was forced: Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail: And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever It flung up momently the sacred river. Five miles meandering with a mazy motion Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, Then reached the caverns measureless to man, And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean: And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far Ancestral voices prophesying war! The shadow of the dome of pleasure Floated midway on the waves; Where was heard the mingled measure From the fountain and the caves. It was a miracle of rare device, A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice! A damsel with a dulcimer In a vision once I saw: It was an Abyssinian maid, And on her dulcimer she played, Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 'twould win me That with music loud and long I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome! those caves of ice! And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware! Beware! His flashing eyes, his floating hair! Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread, For he on honey-dew hath fed And drunk the milk of Paradise. Through sunlit caves of ice, roses unfurl amidst dancing waves of serpentine opium smoke and amber tobacco, golden sandalwood, champaca, tea leaf, sugared lily, ginger, rich hay absolute, leather, dark vanilla, mandarin, peru balsam, and Moroccan jasmine. ++ ARS MORIENDI EPITAPH Heap not on this mound Roses that she loved so well: Why bewilder her with roses, That she cannot see or smell? She is happy where she lies With the dust upon her eyes. Roses and funeral lilies perceived, faintly, through an indistinct, ghostly mist. THE PHANTOM WOOER A ghost, that loved a lady fair, Ever in the starry air Of midnight at her pillow stood; And, with a sweetness skies above The luring words of human love, Her soul the phantom wooed. Sweet and sweet is their poisoned note, The little snakes' of silver throat, In mossy skulls that nest and lie, Ever singing "die, oh! die." Young soul, put off your flesh, and come With me into the quiet tomb, Our bed is lovely, dark, and sweet; The earth will swing us, as she goes, Beneath our coverlid of snows, And the warm leaden sheet. Dear and dear is their poisoned note, The little snakes' of silver throat, In mossy skulls that nest and lie, Ever singing "die, oh! die." A lifeless love song: stargazer lily, bone dust, tomb mosses, buttonweed, moonflower, and honey myrtle. ++ DIABOLUS A COUNTENANCE FORBODING EVIL Thy gloomy features, like a midnight dial, Scowl the dark index of a fearful hour. Patchouli, ylang ylang, blood orange, and vetiver. GOBLIN Dab a bit behind each ear, and you'll be instantly inspired to alter street signs, shake fruit from your neighbor's trees, and hide your roommate's car keys. Black coconut, gnarly patchouli, and sweet benzoin. INCUBUS As if, with beasts' eyes, angels led The way, I slip back to your bed, Quiet as a hooded light, Hushed by the shadows of the night. And then, my dark one, you shall soon Embrace the cold beams of the moon, Around a fresh grave, the chilling hiss Of serpent coiled shall be my kiss. When morning shows his livid face Your bed shall feel my empty place, As cold as death, till fall of night. Others take tenderness to wife: Dread gives away your youth and life To me, to be bride of fright. Spectral white musk and the heart-stopping chill of sheared mint, fanned by caramel-touched body heat, and the diabolical sensuality of black musk, nicotiana, and sage. TROLL They call me Troll; Gnawer of the Moon, Giant of the Gale-blasts, Curse of the rain-hall, Companion of the Sibyl, Nightroaming hag, Swallower of the loaf of heaven. What is a Troll but that? A lurching, hateful, bitter scent. This is a gruesome blend of ghastly greens and blacks: vetiver, pine pitch, troll musk, black basil, clove smoke, and scorched cumin. ++ RAPPACCINI'S GARDEN HAIRY TOAD LILY Spotty, hairy, purple, sweet! ++ WANDERLUST HAVANA Date palm, dried tobacco, snakeroot, and leather. ++ EXCOLO HI'IAKA Sister to Pele, Patroness of Hula Dancers, she is a Lady of Hawa'ii, and is caretaker, mother, and beloved of the land itself. The heart of the forest beats along with Her dance, and the air is suffused with Her scent: mai'a, hibiscus, white ginger, akala, na'u, Hawaiian moon flower, yellow ilima, pink lokelani, jewel orchid, and fringed orchid. As I mentioned before, over the next few months, there is going to be a lot of movement on the Black Phoenix site. This month, the Voodoo Blends section was been assimilated into Bewitching Brews to make some room for an upcoming category: Märchen. Sometimes I think BB should be subcategorized completely, but I still haven't made my mind up about it. The pirates really should get their own subsection. Or section. Its hard being a Pisces sometimes. I think to myself.. is it weird that Mata Hari is hanging out with the Jersey Devil? Some additional information... Hunter Moon and Aeaea are $17.50, and Libra 2007 is $20.00. Hunter Moon, Aeaea, and Libra 2007 will be live until Wednesday, August 29, 2007. All of our Halloween seasonal blends, including the Haunted House scents and the Pumpkins are $17.50 each. The Haunted House can be purchased in a full set for $120, and the Pumpkin Patch can be purchased in a full set for $86. Purchase of a Pumpkin Plunder set (the complete collection of Pumpkins) comes with an imp's ear of Murder of Crows. The Halloween blends will be available until November 15, 2007. Orders placed after October 7, 2007 are not guaranteed to arrive before Halloween. And here's what's new at Black Phoenix Trading Post! - + LUNACY First things first! For your pleasure, we are offering this month's Lunacy tee in three styles: chocolate brown crew neck, chocolate brown babydoll v-neck, and heather green babydoll ringer.  Hunter Moon will be available until Thursday, August 30. + HALLOWEEN: TRICK OR TREAT It may be August, but here at the Trading Post, the Halloween season is starting! This means, of course, that the Trick or Treat Inquisition is back!  What'll it be this year, kids? Will you be gorging yourself on candy or cleaning egg off of your front door? Let the Alchemy Lab Imps and Trading Post Goblins decide! + HALLOWEEN: LIMITED EDITION SOAPS Silk Road Trading Company and Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab have come together to create a miniseries of gleefully creepy soaps just in time for Halloween!  Soaps have been created with two of Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab's most popular Halloween blends: Samhain and Sugar Skull. The scents Cauldron Gunk and Pumpkin were formulated specifically for this project. Your skin will be silky, you will smell spooky'riffic, and your conscience will be clean, too! 100 bars have been made of each scent, and once they're gone, they're gone. + HALLOWEEN: LIMITED EDITION CRYPT QUEEN PERFUME AND COFFIN SET The oil is presented in a sturdy gold-gilded resin coffin unique to Black Phoenix Trading Post. The coffin is 2 3/4" wide x 5 1/2" long x 2" deep, and can hold at least 45 imp's ears laid out in repose.  CRYPT QUEEN As sweet as death, as deep as the grave: pomegranate, raspberry, gardenia, plum, and rose with patchouli, black pepper, rose musk, and a hint of blood accord. Available while supplies last. Also new at Black Phoenix Trading Post ++ BLACK PHOENIX MASSAGE OILS These gentle, balancing massage oils were created with the finest environmentally-responsible and body-friendly ingredients. They are vegan, and are blissfully lacking in harsh chemicals or unwholesome fillers. Our massage oils are paraben and formaldehyde free, and do not contain sodium lauryl or sodium laureth sulfate. Our labels are printed on an Earth-friendly corn biopolymer. These luxurious oils absorb well, granting you the power of the aromatherapeutic properties of the essential oils, as well as the healing and soothing aspects of the base oils' health-affirming properties. and the smooth, even texture of the blends are easy on your masseuse's hands! Handmade by Black Phoenix. As always, no animals were harmed during the creation of this product, and all products were tested on friends and family. ++ BLACK PHOENIX NAIL POLISH Synesthesia! These are our interpretations of Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab perfumes, expressed through color. Black Phoenix nail lacquer is quick drying and chip resistant. Our formula is free of toluene, DBP, and formaldehyde, providing you with excellent long-lasting color without sacrificing your health or the environment to do so! ... and that's that! From the 24 July 2007 update: As you guys may know, many of the Labbies make an annual pilgrimage to the San Diego Comic Con. This one happens to overlap with a full moon, so Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab and Black Phoenix Trading Post are putting up their Lunacy offerings a little early. The scents and shirt will be live on their respective sites from 7/24 til 7/31. The tee: 
The scents: SINGING MOON Green, in the wizard arms Of the foam-bearded Atlantic, An isle of old enchantment, A melancholy isle, Enchanted and dreaming lies; And there, by Shannon's flowing, In the moonlight, spectre-thin, The spectre Erin sits. An aged desolation, She sits by old Shannon's flowing, A mother of many children, Of children exiled and dead, In her home, with bent head, homeless, Clasping her knees she sits, Keening, keening! And at her keen the fairy-grass Trembles on dun and barrow; Around the foot of her ancient crosses The grave-grass shakes and the nettle swings; In haunted glens the meadow-sweet Flings to the night wind Her mystic mournful perfume; The sad spearmint by holy wells Breathes melancholy balm. Sometimes she lifts her head, With blue eyes tearless, And gazes athwart the reek of night Upon things long past, Upon things to come. And sometimes, when the moon Brings tempest upon the deep, The roused Atlantic thunders from his caverns in the west, The wolfhound at her feet Springs up with a mighty bay, And chords of mystery sound from the wild harp at her side, Strung from the hearts of poets; And she flies on the wings of tempest With grey hair streaming: A meteor of evil omen, The spectre of hope forlorn, Keening, keening! She keens, and the strings of her wild harp shiver On the gusts of night: O'er the four waters she keens-over Moyle she keens, O'er the Sea of Milith, and the Strait of Strongbow, And the Ocean of Columbus. And the Fianna hear, and the ghosts of her cloudy hovering heroes; And the swan, Fianoula, wails o'er the waters of Inisfail, Chanting her song of destiny, The rune of weaving Fates. And the nations hear in the void and quaking time of night, Sad unto dawning, dirges, Solemn dirges, And snatches of bardic song; Their souls quake in the void and quaking time of night, And they dream of the weird of kings, And tyrannies moulting, sick, In the dreadful wind of change. Wail no more, lonely one, mother of exiles, wail no more, Banshee of the world-no more! The sorrows are the world's, though art no more alone; Thy wrongs, the world's. Moonlight over grave grass, meadowsweet, marsh hellebore, rock sea-lavender, Irish Lady's-tresses, melancholy thistle, and wood bitter-vetch, with the scent of autumn fires in the distance, sprayed by wind howling over the Atlantic. THE EMATHIDES The chosen Muse here ends her sacred lays; The nymphs unanimous decree the bays, And give the Heliconian Goddesses the praise. Then, far from vain that we shou'd thus prevail, But much provok'd to hear the vanquish'd rail, Calliope resumes: Too long we've born Your daring taunts, and your affronting scorn; Your challenge justly merited a curse, And this unmanner'd railing makes it worse. Since you refuse us calmly to enjoy Our patience, next our passions we'll employ; The dictates of a mind enrag'd pursue, And, what our just resentment bids us, do. The railers laugh, our threats and wrath despise, And clap their hands, and make a scolding noise: But in the fact they're seiz'd; beneath their nails Feathers they feel, and on their faces scales; Their horny beaks at once each other scare, Their arms are plum'd, and on their backs they bear Py'd wings, and flutter in the fleeting air. Chatt'ring, the scandal of the woods they fly, And there continue still their clam'rous cry: The same their eloquence, as maids, or birds, Now only noise, and nothing then but words. Gleaming eyes, screeching voices, glistening wings: black amber, black orchid, black currant, olive blossom, wood violet, lavender, blue musk, rose attar, and cedar. VIRGO 2007 Mutable earth: the essence of analysis. Fennel, valerian, maidenhair fern, carrot seed, honeysuckle, and myrtle. Tonight, some of our 4oz memorabilia bottles will be going up on eBay. If you're going to the Con, please stop by the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund charity auction or come by their booth (1831). Your shopping thirst will be slaked, and the money will go to a very, very worthy cause! Fret not: while some of us are at Comic Con, it will still be business as usual at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab. Emails will be answered, orders will be packed and shipped. From the Friday the 13th update: 13 is live! 13, the Sportive Sun, and the Gibbous Moon will be live until July 15, 2007. From the 29 July 2007 update: Is it hot where you are? Its scorching here already! This month's Lunacies: RED MOON August is a month of reflection. It is the month of rest before the harvest, and it holds for us a time between toils, a brief period of relaxation before we take up the burden of our work again. It is the Time of the Phoenix, a season of celebrating health, vitality, warmth and joy, but it is also the time at which the Corn God dies for the sake of the land, his blood soaking the earth to ensure a bountiful harvest in the fall. The Full Red Moon of August was named thus by some Native American tribes because as the moon rises, it dons a reddish veil, visible through the hot, sweltering summer evening haze. Our blend for this Moon mixes traditional lunar oils with the warmth of amber, red musk, and heliotrope, the russet haze of dragon's blood resin, sunflower, and crushed orange peel, with a dusting of summertime herbs: chamomile, rue, elder flower and marigold. ALLISON GROSS O ALLISON GROSS, that lives in yon towr, The ugliest witch i' the north country, Has trysted me ae day up till her bowr, An monny fair speech she made to me. She stroaked my head, an she kembed my hair, An she set me down saftly on her knee; Says, Gin ye will be my lemman so true, Sae monny braw things as I woud you gi. She showd me a mantle o red scarlet, Wi gouden flowrs an fringes fine; Says, Gin ye will be my lemman so true, This goodly gift it sal be thine. 'Awa, awa, ye ugly witch, Haud far awa, an lat me be; I never will be your lemman sae true, An I wish I were out o your company.' She neist brought a sark o the saftest silk, Well wrought wi pearles about the ban; Says, Gin you will be my ain true love, This goodly gift you sal comman. She showd me a cup of the good red gold, Well set wi jewls sae fair to see; Says, Gin you will be my lemman sae true, This goodly gift I will you gi. 'Awa, awa, ye ugly witch, Had far awa, and lat me be; For I woudna ance kiss your ugly mouth For a' the gifts that ye coud gi.' She's turnd her right and roun about, An thrice she blaw on a grass-green horn, An she sware by the meen and the stars abeen, That she'd gar me rue the day I was born. Then out has she taen a silver wand, An she's turnd her three times roun an roun; She's mutterd sich words till my strength it faild, An I fell down senceless upon the groun. She's turnd me into an ugly worm, And gard me toddle about the tree; An ay, on ilka Saturdays night, My sister Maisry came to me, Wi silver bason an silver kemb, To kemb my heady upon her knee; But or I had kissd her ugly mouth, I'd rather a toddled about the tree. But as it fell out on last Hallow-even, When the Seely court was ridin by, The queen lighted down on a gowany bank, Nae far frae the tree where I wont to lye. She took me up in her milk-white han, An she's stroakd me three times oer her knee; She chang'd me again to my ain proper shape, An I nae mair maun toddle about the tree. Witch-herbs, crushed golden flowers, and a man-made-dragon's surly musk lightened by the scent of the blossoms and unearthly incense that clings to the Faerie Queen's hair. Dragon's blood musk, ambergris, sunflower, chrysanthemum, muguet, and rue, with gingered lily, moonflower, bluebell, peony, nightwort, and white rose. And this month's astrological blend: LEO Fixed Fire: the essence of pride. Egyptian amber, walnut bark, chamomile, frankincense, and saffron. Red Moon 2007, Allison Gross, and Leo will be live until July 2, 2007. Two other Limited Edition scents are live: Mine are the night and morning, The pits of air, the gulf of space, The sportive sun, the gibbous moon, The innumerable days. I hid in the solar glory, I am dumb in the pealing song, I rest on the pitch of the torrent, In slumber I am strong. THE SPORTIVE SUN Heliotrope, amber, almond flower, frangipani, cedar, and calamus. THE GIBBOUS MOON Moonflower, Madonna lily, orris, white ginger, cucumber, hyacinth, and Irish moss. The Sun and Moon will be live until July 15, 2007. - - - Aaaaaaaaaaaand two new sections have been added to the site: GOOD OMENS AND STARDUST! ++ GOOD OMENS AGNES NUTTER The mind of Agnes Nutter was so far adrift in Time that she was considered pretty mad even by the standards of seventeenth-century Lancashire, where mad prophetesses were a growth industry. Gunpowder, charred wood, smoke, and rusty nails. AZIRAPHALE Many people, meeting Aziraphale for the first time, formed three impressions: that he was English, that he was intelligent, and that he was gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide. Two of these were wrong; Heaven is not England, whatever certain poets may have thought, and angels are sexless unless they really want to make an effort. Ethereal musk, blonde woods, and dusty Bible accord. CROWLEY Nothing about him looked particularly demonic, at least by classical standards. No horns, no wings. Admittedly he was listening to a Best of Queen tape, but no conclusions should be drawn from this because all tapes left in a car for more than a fortnights metamorphose into Best of Queen albums. No particularly demonic thoughts were going through his head. In fact, he was wondering vaguely who Moey and Chandon were. Crowley had dark hair, and good cheekbones, and he was wearing snakeskin shoes, or at least presumably he was wearing shoes, and he could do really weird things with his tongue. And, whenever he forgot himself, he had a tendency to hiss. Infernal musk, red patchouli, lilac cologne, mahogany, lemon rind, oakmoss, leather, and vanilla husk. SHADWELL Shadwell had turned out to be about five feet high and wore clothes which, no matter what they actually were, always turned up in your short-term memory as an old mackintosh. The old man may have all his own teeth, but only because no-one else could possibly have wanted them; just one of them, placed under the pillow, would have made the Tooth Fairy hand in its wand. He appeared to live entirely on sweet tea, condensed milk, hand-rolled cigarettes, and a sort of sullen internal energy. Shadwell had a Cause, while he followed with the full resources of his soul and his Pensioner's Concessionary Travel Pass. He believed in it. It powered him like a turbine. Roll-ups, mildewed raincoat, sweet tea, and condensed milk. WAR She finished the drink, hefted the sword over one shoulder, and looked around at the puzzled factions, who now encircled her completely. 'Sorry to run out on you, chaps,' she said. 'Would love to stay and get to know you better.' The men in the room suddenly realized they didn't want to know her better. She was beautiful, but she was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful: something to be admired from a distance, but not up close. And she held her sword, and she smiled like a knife. Red ginger, black spices, patchouli, honeysuckle, and three blood-soaked red musks. ++ STARDUST FAIRY MARKET "Eyes, eyes! New eyes for old!" shouted a tiny woman in front of a table covered with bottles and jars filled with eyes of every kind and color. "Instruments of music from a hundred lands!" "Penny whistles! Tuppenny hums! Threepenny choral anthems!" "Try your luck! Step right up! Answer a simple riddle and win a wind-flower!" "Everlasting lavender! Bluebell cloth!" "Bottled dreams, a shilling a bottle!" "Coats of night! Coats of twilight! Coats of dusk!" "Swords of fortune! Wands of power! Rings of eternity! Cards of grace! Roll-up, roll-up, step this way!" "Salves and ointments, philtres and nostrums!" Otherworldy golden incense, blooming wind-flowers, everlasting lavender, bluebell, a faint whiff of exotic sugared candies, and fae mist upon wet green grass. TRISTRAN Tristran put down his wooden cup of tea, and stood up, offended. "What," he asked, in what he was certain were lofty and scornful tones, "would possibly make you imagine that my lady-love would have sent me on some foolish errand?" The little man stared up at him with eyes like beads of jet. "Because that's the only reason a lad like you would be stupid enough to cross the border into Faerie. The only ones who ever come here from your lands are the minstrels, and the lovers, and the mad. And you don't look like much of a minstrel, and you're - pardon me saying so, lad, but it's true - ordinary as cheese-crumbs. So it's love, if you ask me." "Because," announces Tristran, "every lover is in his heart a madman, and in his head a minstrel." Dust on your trousers, mud on your boots, and stars in your eyes: redwood, tonka bean, white sandalwood, lemon peel, patchouli, rosewood, coriander, and crushed mint. VICTORIA Every boy in the village was in love with Victoria Forester. And many a sedate gentleman, quietly married with grey in his beard, would stare at her as she walked down the street, becoming, for a few moments, a boy once more, in the spring of his years with a spring in his step. Graceful vanilla musk, tea rose, and stargazer lily. THE WITCH QUEEN On a rocky mountain pass, on the southernmost slopes of Mount Belly, the witch-queen reined in her goat-drawn chariot and stopped and sniffed the chilly air. The myriad stars hung cold in the sky above her. Her red, red lips curved up into a smile of such beauty, such brilliance, such pure and perfect happiness that it would have frozen your blood in your veins to have seen it. "There," she said. "She is coming to me." And the wind of the mountain pass howled about her triumphantly, as if in answer. Wild plum, red musk, tuberose, calla lily, heliotrope, pimento, ylang ylang and beeswax beneath a dark haze of sinister purple-hued incense smoke. YVAINE She was sprawled, awkwardly, beneath the hazel tree, and she gazed up at Tristran with a scowl of complete unfriendliness. She hefted another clod of mud at him, menacingly, but did not throw it. Her eyes were red and raw. Her hair was so fair it was almost white, her dress was of blue silk which shimmered in the candlelight. She glittered as she sat there. The high, crystalline scent of a star-filled night with blue lavender and lush magnolia. I cannot thank Mr. Gaiman, Mr. Pratchett, or the guys at Paramount enough for the trust they have shown us, and a million, trillion thanks to Messrs Gaiman and Pratchett for the opportunity to translate their stories within our medium! Both the Good Omens and Stardust series are charitable, not-for-profit ventures. Proceeds from every single bottle from the Stardust series go to the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund, and proceeds from every single bottle from the Good Omens series are split between the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund and the Orangutan Foundation UK. Stardust, the film, will be premiering in the US on August 10, 2007! Artwork on the Good Omens page is by the lovely Julie Dillon, and the artwork on the Stardust page is by our snugglewumpus, Jennifer Williamson. - - - As you have probably noticed, there have been a few changes to the Black Phoenix web site. We're working on a bit of summertime cleaning - polishing up the old, dolling up the new - so, over the next few updates, some of the oft-neglected areas of the site are going to (finally!) be updated, too. Black Phoenix Trading Post has a hell of an update this month, too! First off, here be Red Moon - August's Lunacy tee:  We have one small addition to the permanent catalogue. It is the third in our LE Commemorative set, and this one is dedicated to the entire A Little Lunacy series:  Six new soaps have been added to the suds line, courtesy of the fine folks at Silk Road Trading Company: AL AZIF BORDELLO CHESHIRE CAT MOXIE PERVERSION TKO Due to the cost of the components of the soaps, Moxie and TKO are $10.50 each. All other soaps are $8.50US. Within the next few weeks, several garments are being added, as well as an expansion to our bath and body line and some interesting bits of tchotch! And, as always, there will be more of this, that, and the other (at Alchemy Lab and Trading Post) in the upcoming months! From the 4 June 2007 update: We’re going to call this the Bastille Update (thank you, Jeff!). For a limited time, the following scent will be available on our Limited Edition page: PRIVILEGE Polished party-girl sleaze. This is a shameless scent, devoid of caution, regret, or introspection. This perfume reeks of tabloid glamour, and has no substance whatsoever. Armoise, tuberose, white citrus, rose absolute, oakmoss, tiare, tuberose, vanilla, linden, and lemon tree blossom. Although this scent originated with fine plants and the pure essences, the final result is a grotesque, eerily empty caricature of a debauched, narcissistic would-be debutante. PRUNO Jailhouse hooch. Distilled in toilets, this vintage is comprised of chow line droppings, including oranges, apples, ketchup, and sugar. Is it cruel to commemorate someone’s jail sentence with a festive set of fragrances? Maybe. But it is far fouler to drive drunk, endanger the lives of others, and expect to get away with it because your family has cash. It is our opinion that everyone should be held accountable for their actions. Period. These scents will be live for as long as Paris Hilton stays in jail. Money shouldn’t exempt you from basic human decency, and it certainly shouldn’t shelter you from justice. (By the way Candy Spelling, we love you!) In addition to being a celebration of one irresponsible, horrid person’s comeuppance, these scents do go to a good cause albeit, in BPAL’s crass, snotty fashion. A portion of each sale of Privilege and Pruno will be donated to Southern California women’s shelters. - In the interests of privacy and at least a sliver of good taste, the specific shelters are staying under a veil of anonymity. We hope you understand. From the May 30, 2007 update: It’s the Blue Moon, boys and girls! BLUE MOON The spirit of the full moon is capricious, intense and passionate, yet still distant, aloof and cold. Luna herself governs glamours, bewitchments and dream-work, innocent wonder, transient pleasure and delight, the Moment, impulse, mystery and veils. The Blue Moon is one of her rarest manifestations, and this scent is formulated to encapsulate her most complex and profound nature: Mugwort and bay, for psychic sensitivity Juniper, for divination through dreams Orchid and galbanum, for complexity, wisdom and noscere with a potent lunar-charged blend of exquisite Asian woods, moonflower, Madagascan ylang ylang, Florentine iris, Greek cypress, davana, green tea absolute, palmarosa, cucumber, Clary sage, melilot trefoils, wood aloes, and pale creeping buttercup. July’s thunderstorms are the harbinger of this month’s Lunacy scent: Thunder Moon. THUNDER MOON This is the scent of a summer storm: thick black clouds pass over this full moon, the Goddess roars, and Her Beloved hurls his forked bolts of lightning in the distant sky. Ozone deepened by liquid amber, and a spray of hot nighttime rain mingled with the scent of lightning-struck wood, water-soaked summer blooms, and sun-scorched grass. And this month’s shapeshifter comes to us from Scotland, by way of Norway: SELKIE In Norway land there lived a maid, 'Hush bee loo lillie' this maid began; 'I know not where my baby's father is, Whether by land or sea he does travel in.' It happened on a certain day When this fair lady fell fast asleep, That in cam' a good greay selchie And set him down at her bed feet, Sayin' 'Awak, awak, my pretty maid, For oh, how sound as thou dost sleep! An' I'll tell thee where thy baby's father is - He's sittin' close at thy bed feet!' 'I pray, come tell to me thy name, Oh, tell me where does thy dwelling be?' 'My name it is good Hein Mailer An' I earn my livin' oot o' the sea. I am a man upo' the land, I am a selchie in the sea, And when I'm far frae every strand My dwellin' is in Sule Skerrie.' 'Alas, alas, this woeful fate! - This weary fate that's been laid for me, That a man should come from the Wast o' Hoy To the Norway lands to have a bairn wi' me!' 'My dear, I'll wed thee with a ring, With a ring, my dear, I'll wed with thee.' 'Thoo may go wed thee weddens wi' whom thoo wilt, For I'm sure thoo'll never wed none wi' me!' 'Thoo wilt nurse my little wee son For seven long years upo' thy knee, An' at the end o' seven long years I'll come back and pay the norish fee.' Now he had ta'en a purse of guld And he has put it upon her knee, Saying 'Gi'e to me my little young son, And take thee up thy nourrice fee.' She says 'My dear, I'll wed thee wi' a ring, Wi' a ring, my dear, I'll wed wi' thee!' Thoo may go wed these [thee's] weddens wi' whom thoo wilt, For I'm sure thoo'll never wed none wi' me! But I'll put a gold chain around his neck An' a gey good gold chain it'll be, That if ever he comes to the Norway lands Thoo may have a gey good guess on he, An' thoo will get a gunner good, An' a gey good gunner it will be, An' he'll gae oot on a May mornin' An' shoot the son an' the grey selchie.' Oh, she has got a gunner good, An' a gey good gunner it was he, An' he went out on a May mornin' An' he shot the son and the grey selchie. Alas, alas this woeful fate This weary fate that's been laid for me.' And once or twice she sobbed and sighed, An' her tender heart did brak' in three. The chill waters of the Orkney coast, tea-leaved willow, honey-touched Grass-of-Parnassus, sea aster, and Scottish Primrose. -- A traditional Scottish ballad. This is a variant of the one collected by Francis James Child. Happy birthday, Moonchildren! CANCER Cardinal Water: the essence of feeling. Wild lettuce, wild pear, chamomile, germanica orris, sweet pea, and mallow. Midsummer is approaching, and with it comes a small Midsummer Night’s Dream-themed update! ++ ILLYRIA HELENA I'll follow thee and make a heaven of hell, To die upon the hand I love so well. Rose amber, calla lily, night-blooming jasmine, water lily, and white rose. HERMIA How low am I, thou painted maypole? speak; How low am I? I am not yet so low But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes. Pink pepper, golden amber, honeysuckle, and passion flower. LYSANDER The course of true love never did run smooth. Lilac musk, tonka, wood violet, and urbane lime rind, with a Venus-kissed tangle of myrtle, blackberry leaf, and benzoin. ROBIN GOODFELLOW Now the hungry lion roars, And the wolf behowls the moon; Whilst the heavy ploughman snores, All with weary task fordone. Now the wasted brands do glow, Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night That the graves all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite, In the church-way paths to glide: And we fairies, that do run By the triple Hecate's team, From the presence of the sun, Following darkness like a dream, Now are frolic: not a mouse Shall disturb this hallow'd house: I am sent with broom before, To sweep the dust behind the door. Dark musk, moss-covered wood, ragwort, heather, and sage. And a few new Shakesperean plants have bloomed in the Garden: ++ RAPPACCINI’S GARDEN DIAN’S BUD Be as thou wast wont to be; See as thou wast wont to see: Dian's bud o'er Cupid's flower Hath such force and blessed power. LOVE-IN-IDLENESS Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before, milk-white, now purple with love's wound, And maidens call it love-in-idleness. The Thunder Moon update will be live at Black Phoenix Trading Post tomorrow night. This update, unfortunately, also marks the passing of the following scents: ARACHNE DUBLIN EMPYREAL MIST MANTIS NEO-TOKYO We absolutely hate doing so with zero notice, but we have no choice. Due to a grave emergency, one of our single note artists has closed their doors, and we are unable to procure some of the components that go into these blends elsewhere. All pending orders placed prior to this update will be filled, but we will no longer be manufacturing these scents. Thank you all so much for understanding. We wish them all the best during this trying time. We are currently working on the next Carousel and Carnaval updates, and new soaps, unguents, and tchotchkies will be available at BPTP soon! From the first Blue Moon 2007 update: May 2007 brings us a lunatic’s blessing: a Blue Moon. Tonight, Rose Moon is live, along with this month’s first appearance of Blue Moon: ROSE MOON Since friendships fade like the flow'rs of June, I will leave her in charge of the stable moon." Then he said to the moon: "O dear old moon, Who for years and years from thy throne above Hast nurtured and guarded young lovers and love, My heart has but come to its waiting June, And the promise time of the budding vine; Oh, guard thee well this love of mine." And he harked him then while all was still, And the pale moon answered and said, "I will." And he sailed in his ship o'er many seas, And he wandered wide o'er strange far strands: in isles of the south and in Orient lands, Where pestilence lurks in the breath of the breeze. But his star was high, so he braved the main, And sailed him blithely home again; And with joy he bended his footsteps soon To learn of his love from the matron moon. She sat as of yore, in her olden place, Serene as death, in her silver chair. A white rose gleamed in her whiter hair, And the tint of a blush was on her face. At sight of the youth she sadly bowed And hid her face 'neath a gracious cloud. She faltered faint on the night's dim marge, But "How," spoke the youth, "have you kept your charge?" The moon was sad at a trust ill-kept; The blush went out in her blanching cheek, And her voice was timid and low and weak, As she made her plea and sighed and wept. "Oh, another prayed and another plead, And I couldn't resist," she answering said;" But love still grows in the hearts of men: Go forth, dear youth, and love again." But he turned him away from her proffered grace. "Thou art false, O moon, as the hearts of men, I will not, will not love again." And he turned sheer 'round with a soul-sick face To the sea, and cried: "Sea, curse the moon, Who makes her vows and forgets so soon." And the awful sea with anger stirred, And his breast heaved hard as he lay and heard. And ever the moon wept down in rain, And ever her sighs rose high in wind; But the earth and sea were deaf and blind, And she wept and sighed her griefs in vain. And ever at night, when the storm is fierce, The cries of a wraith through the thunders pierce; And the waves strain their awful hands on high To tear the false moon from the sky. Thou art false, O moon, as the hearts of men. I will not, will not love again. Bulgarian rose, tea rose, violet leaf, opium poppy, Bois de Jasmin, patchouli leaf, honey, blue lilac, balsam, woodruff, and lemon peel. BLUE MOON 2007 The spirit of the full moon is capricious, intense and passionate, yet still distant, aloof and cold. Luna herself governs glamours, bewitchments and dream-work, innocent wonder, transient pleasure and delight, the Moment, impulse, mystery and veils. The Blue Moon is one of her rarest manifestations, and this scent is formulated to encapsulate her most complex and profound nature: Mugwort and bay, for psychic sensitivity Juniper, for divination through dreams Orchid and galbanum, for complexity, wisdom and noscere with a potent lunar-charged blend of exquisite Asian woods, moonflower, Madagascan ylang ylang, Florentine iris, Greek cypress, davana, green tea absolute, palmarosa, cucumber, Clary sage, melilot trefoils, wood aloes, and pale creeping buttercup. This full moon’s lycanthrope is the comely, charismatic, and conniving Tamamo-No-Mae: TAMAMO-NO-MAE One day, a courtesan of unearthly beauty appeared at the Emperor’s court. Her skin was like silk and porcelain, and her eyes gleamed like polished onyx. Her body exuded an enchanting scent, and her robes were immaculate. She quickly endeared herself to the Emperor and his concubines; her unequaled grace was matched by a glittering wit and astonishing intellect, and though she appeared to be no older than twenty, there was no question that she could not answer. There seemed to be no limit to her knowledge and strange wisdom, and she was well-versed on every topic, from astronomy to Buddhist teachings. So profound was the Emperor’s fascination with this woman that he kept her by his side, day and night. One night, the Emperor and his court attended a performance of poetry and music at the serene Seiryoden. A strong gust of wind suddenly tore through the Leaping Tiger Garden into the performance hall, shaking the bamboo reeds and extinguishing the lanterns. The room was plunged into darkness, save for a warm, golden light that emanated from within the mysterious woman’s robes. She was aglow like the rising sun. Enthralled, the Emperor declared to his ministers that this woman must be an incarnation of the Buddha, and he named her Tamamo-no-Mae. Deeply in love and profoundly devoted, the Emperor exchanged weighty vows with his favored mistress, and showered her with gifts and affection. Within months, the Emperor became ill. He was listless, his sword-hand faltered, his skin took on a grey cast, and his muscles began to sag. Horrified, his ministers went to all the priests and soothsayers in the land, begging them for answers. They had none. The ministers appealed to the people, begging them to raise their voices in prayer. The people loved the Emperor, and sent their prayers to the Gods. The Emperor’s condition did not change. Finally, the renowned astrologer, Abe no Yasuchika, divined the cause of the Emperor’s infirmity: Tamamo-no-Mae. She was not born of woman; her true form was that of a hundred-year-old, forty-two-foot-tall, two-tailed fox demon. Disguised as a beautiful courtesan, the demoness hoped to slowly kill the Emperor, and then take his place. Knowing that she was exposed, Tamamo-no-Mae fled the palace. Horrified, the Emperor sent the greatest warriors in the land, Kazusa-no-Suke and Miura-no-Suke, to pursue and slay his former mistress. The creature was wily and elusive, and after many weeks of hunting, the warriors began to fear that they would be unable to bring the demon to justice, thus shaming themselves and their families. They vowed that they would commit suicide if they failed in their quest, and they prayed to the Gods for assistance. That night, a beautiful woman appeared to Miura-no-Suke in his dreams. Her lovely face was marred by weeping, and she begged the warrior to spare her life. He refused, and cut the woman down. Upon waking, he realized that the dream was an omen – they would find and kill the foxwoman this day – and the warriors resumed their hunt with renewed enthusiasm. The hunters spotted the fox on the Plains of Nasu, and Miura-no-Suke fired an arrow into her heart. She fell, and her body transformed into the Sessho-seki, the Killing Stone. Tamamo-no-Mae’s scent is soft skin musk, brushed by white tea leaf, rice flower, black locust flower, white sandalwood kodo soke, dry ginger, benzoin gum, and Amacha. This month's astrological blend is Gemini: GEMINI 2007 Mutable Air: the essence of thought. Lavender, benzoin, orchid, and frankincense. Blue and Rose Moon are also lighting up the skies over Black Phoenix Trading Post:   At Black Phoenix Trading Post, Monster Bait: biggerCritters has opened up to the public! MONSTER BAIT: BIGGERCRITTERS Monster Bait: biggerCritters -- a deceptively sweet scent; just like the Critters themselves, the perfume is fluffy, poofy, soft, snuggly, and googly! Five vanillas with Moroccan jasmine, white gardenia, and pink grapefruit. At Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab, a new wing has opened in the Salon. Exhibit III contains: Bat Cleopatra Testing Poisons on Those Condemned to Death Death and Life Completed Fox Fires on New Year's Eve at the Garment Nettle Tree at Oji Kiyohime Changes From a Serpent Love and Pain Macbeth and the Witches Mad Meg Madonna Monna Vanna Philosopher in Meditation Schlafende Baigneuse The Smiling Spider Spirit of the Komachi Cherry Tree Sunflower Sunrise With Sea-Monsters From the Friday the 13th update: Happy Friday the 13th, ladies and gents! We have a small update tonight, and, for the first time, we’re extending the “live” time for 13. It will be up on the site until midnight on the dreaded 15th of April in a small gesture intended to cheer some people up at tax time! Milk Moon, Minotaur, and Taurus are also getting a slightly extended stay, and will be live until 13 comes down. And now, on with the show: ++ LIMITED EDITION ++ THIRTEEN (13) 13 is significant, whether you consider it lucky, unlucky or just plain odd. Many believe it to be unfortunate because there were 13 present at the Last Supper. Loki crashed a party of 12 at Valhalla, which ended in Baldur’s death. Oinomaos killed 13 of Hippodamia’s suitors before Pelops finally, in his own shady way, defeated the jealous king. In ancient Rome, Hecate’s witches gathered in groups of 12, the Goddess herself being the 13th in the coven. Concern over the number thirteen echoes back beyond the Christian era. Line 13 was omitted form the Code of Hammurabi. The shivers over Friday the 13th also have some interesting origins: Christ was allegedly crucified on Friday the 13th. On Friday, October 13, 1307, King Philip IV of France ordered the arrests of Jaques de Molay, Grand Master of the Knights Templar, and sixty of his senior knights. In British custom, hangings were held on Fridays, and there were 13 steps on the gallows leading to the noose. To combat the superstition, Robert Ingersoll and the Thirteen Club held thirteen-men dinners during the 19th Century. Successful? Hardly. The number still invokes trepidation to this day. A recent whimsical little serial killer study showed that the following murderers all have names that total thirteen letters: Theodore Bundy Jeffrey Dahmer Albert De Salvo John Wayne Gacy And, with a little stretch of the imagination, you can also fit ‘Jack the Ripper’ and ‘Charles Manson’ into that equation. More current-era paranoia: modern schoolchildren stop their memorization of the multiplication tables at 12. There were 13 Plutonium slugs in the atomic bomb that was dropped on Nagasaki. Apollo 13 wasn’t exactly the most successful space mission. All of these are things that modern triskaidekaphobes point to when justifying their fears. For some, 13 is an extremely fortuitous and auspicious number In Jewish tradition, God has 13 Attributes of Mercy. Also, there were 13 tribes of Israel, 13 principles of Jewish faith, and 13 is considered the age of maturity. The ancient Egyptians believed that there were 12 stages of spiritual achievement in this lifetime, and a 13th beyond death. The word for thirteen, in Chinese, sounds much like the word which means “must be alive”. Thirteen, whether you love it or loathe it, is a pretty cool number all around. In some theories of relativity, there are 13 dimensions. It is a prime number, lucky number, star number, Wilson Prime, and Fibonacci number. There are 13 Archimedean solids. AND There were 13 original colonies when the United States were founded. Says a lot about the US, doesn’t it? A base of cocoa absolute and white chocolate with thirteen baneful and beneficial bits: cardamom, fig meat, grains of paradise, rice flower, chamomile, sandalwood, catnip, clove, and a bundle of five blessed blossoms and herbs. BAD LUCK WOMAN BLUES Did you ever have a bad luck woman on your trail? Did you ever have a bad luck woman on your trail? Always keeps you broke, always keeps you in jail. I used to be happy, (as good Lord), all the time, I used to be happy, (as good Lord), all the time, but soon as I got this woman, (lost) all I can call mine. My bad luck woman is a jinx and a worry too, My bad luck woman is a jinx and a worry too, I can't get rid of her no matter what I do. I tried to make her quit me by callin' another woman's name, I tried to make her quit me by callin' another woman's name, She said, That is all right, he loves me just the same. She keeps a ra't's foot in her hand at night when she goes to sleep, She keeps a ra't's foot in her hand at night when she goes to sleep, to keep (me with) her, so I won't make no midnight creep. My bad luck woman keeps me feelin' blues, My bad luck woman keeps me feelin' blues, I can't get rid of her, she sticks to me like glue. Keep that bad luck woman away with a blend of Spanish moss, black pepper, mullein, sweet sage, vandal root, cypress, cigar tobacco, and a puff of goofer dust cloaked by a swarthy cologne of vetiver, lime, dark musk, caramel accord, and lilac. LADY LUCK BLUES Bad luck has come to stay Trouble never end My man has gone away With a girl I thought was my friend I'm worried down with care Lordy, can't you hear my prayer Lady Luck, Lady Luck Won't you please smile down on me There's the time, friend of mine I need your sympathy I've got a horseshoe on my door I've knocked on wood till my hands are sore Since my man's done turned me loose I've got those Lady Luck blues, I mean I've got those Lady Luck blues Lady Luck, Lady Luck Won't you please smile down on me There's the time, friend of mine I need your sympathy I've got his picture turned upside down I've sprinkled goofer dust all around Since my man is gone I'm all confused I've got those Lady Luck blues Find my good man I've got those Lady Luck blues Lady Luck, please smile down on me. A melancholy scent, aching with longing, created to appease Fickle Fortune. Honeyed Bulgarian rose, vanilla flower, benzoin, tonka, black plum, peony, and iris. Lady Luck Blues, © 1923 William Weber & Clarence Williams. Recorded by Sidney Bechet, Bessie Smith, Mamie Smith, and the Clarence Williams Orchestra. Bad Luck Woman Blues, © 1926 Aletha Dickerson. Recorded by Papa Charlie Jackson. This weekend will see a Black Phoenix Trading Post update. Please keep your eyes peeled! May crickets chirp in your homes, may four-leafed clovers fill your gardens, and may every chimney sweep that you pass blow you a hundred kisses. From the 31 March 2007 update: April is looming, and that means its time to hunt the gowk at BPAL, so to speak. Happy April Fool’s Day, friends and neighbors! To commemorate, we have a slew of springtime sillyscents in addition to this month’s Lunacies.
And while we're on the topic of April Foolishness... the Monster Baits are back! In 2006, Black Phoenix presented the public with the opportunity to reconnect our clients with their childhood friends A flashback: Did your bedroom monsters vacate the premises once you hit puberty? Do you miss their creepy scrabblings, chittering whispers and their bits that went bump in the night? DO YOU WANT YOUR MONSTERS TO COME BACK? LOOK NO FURTHER! The sympathetic alchemists at Black Phoenix have devised a sure-fire way to tempt those prodigal bogies back into your boudoir. A few drops of BPAL’s patented Monster Bait on your person, in an oil burner, or on a small sachet or swatch of cloth will lure them back in no time. Now, in 2007, we are overjoyed to present you with another series of Monster Baits! Thanks to the miracles of modern technology, our ability to attract monsters is no longer limited to the confines of your shadowy bedroom. Advances in science have enabled us to expand our oils’ ability to coax even more beasties, both great and small! MONSTER BAIT: TOKYO STOMP Beckons all giant creatures from gargantuan reptiles and humongous moths! These babies are sure to crush everything from dollhouses to shopping malls! Can even be used to summon colossal robots in a pinch! A sweet and crisp vanilla mint! MONSTER BAIT: VENTRILOQUIST DUMMY Menacing, maniacal, and slick with the one-liners this guy does it all with a wink and a smile! Savage apricot, depraved dry woods, and psychopathic patchouli covered by a disarmingly sweet mishmosh of caramel, brown sugar, hazelnut, and butterscotch. Be warned: this oil will instigate possession in most puppets, including some marionettes and the occasional finger puppet. And last, but not least a ghoulish lure that is Perfect for your next gathering! MONSTER BAIT: BLOODY MARY Why waste time chanting her name in the mirror 13 times? Bedevil your next slumber party the easy way! Chunky, glistening red fruits with sweet cream accord, black clotted cherry, and powdered sugar! Nighttime heebies can be yours again! Milk Moon, Minotaur, and Taurus will be live until April 5, 2007. The Monster Baits and Poisson D'Avril will be live until April 30, 2007. Spring is springing, and it sure as hell is a stimulus for creativity and bustling work in every facet of the Black Phoenix family. Upcoming in the next few months: We visit Lower Tadfield. We read you a few bedtime stories and moral parables. Another wing opens in the Salon. Offerings will be made at Excolo’s shrines. And we continue our trip through Carnaval Diabolique twisted, spectral midway.  A wee bit more Trading Post news: FizzyBOOMs have been discontinued until further notice. As much as we love them, the little buggers are just smooshing too often in transit. They will be down for a bit while we work out the shipping kinks. Thank you for your patience and understanding! We'll keep you posted on the boom status! Do not despair, however, as new soaps, new shiny things, and new incarnations of bathtime joy are all in the works, in addition to solid perfume, ambience blends, and new garment designs. From the 1 March 2007 update: Before I get started on anything else Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett have graciously given us their permission to use Good Omens as a source of inspiration for a line of perfume. Half of the proceeds will go to the CBLDF and the other half will go to the Orangutan Foundation International. All hail Neil and Terry!!! We are in the process of finalizing the first burst of scents. We’ll keep you posted! Gleeful, crazy screams of love to Penn Jillette for mentioning us a couple of times on Penn Radio. Thank you! We love you, Penn! Pink Moon is the first full moon of Spring, and, indeed, spring is rearing its flowery head at Black Phoenix. The most adorable Lunacy tee EVAH is live at Black Phoenix Trading Post. For your pleasure, the first LE’s of the season:
Starting this month, the appropriate zodiacal blend of the month will be live during the time that the Lunacy is live. While we have offered astrological blends in the past, these are new incarnations for 2007. Aries, Roux-Ga-Roux, and Pink Moon will be live until March 7, 2007. The Ides of March and Ostara will be available until March 15, 2007. A gentle reminder: no imp's ears are available for Limited Edition scents. Also this month thirteen new blends are making their debut in the general catalogue.
There have been some minor changes to the BPAL site. Propaganda, the links page, and the ‘about us’ schpeel have been updated, and (after 4 years of procrastinating) the Funereal Oils category has been renamed. We've been working our asses off, so this season promises to be a fruitful one. We truly believe that you’re going to enjoy all the sinister, strange, and silly things that the Black Phoenix family is concocting for Spring. From the OhMyGoDNeILGaIManGAH! update (January 31, 2007): This update thrills me. It thrills me so much that I, for once, am almost at a loss for words. We are inexpressibly proud to present the debut of the Carousel, the Neil Gaiman Collection. Neil has been an inspiration to me since I first came upon a copy of Sandman #1 in 1996, in more ways than I can explain. He is a wonderful man, a passionate and profound author, and one hell of a clever guy. I am extremely grateful to him for the opportunity to interpret his characters and stories through scent. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Neil, we love you. Going live tonight in the Carousel The Queen of Sheba, half-demon, they said, on her father's side, witch woman, wise woman, and queen, who ruled Sheba when Sheba was the richest land there ever was, when its spices and its gems and scented woods were taken by boat and camel-back to the corners of the earth, who was worshipped even when she was alive, worshipped as a living goddess by the wisest of kings, stands on the sidewalk of Sunset Boulevard at 2:00 A.M. staring blankly out at traffic like a slutty plastic bride on a black-and-neon wedding cake. She stands as if she owns the sidewalk and the night that surrounds her. Honey, myrrh, lily of the valley, rose otto, fig leaf, almond, ambrette, red apple, and warm musk. "Coin tricks is it?" asked Sweeney, his chin raising, his scruffy beard bristling. "Why, if it's coin tricks we're doing, watch this." He took an empty glass from the table. Then he reached out and took a large coin, golden and shining, from the air. He dropped it into the glass. He took another gold coin from the air and tossed it into the glass, where it clinked against the first. He took a coin from the candle flame of a candle on the wall, another from his beard, a third from Shadow's empty left hand, and dropped them, one by one, into the glass. Then he curled his fingrs over the glass, and blew hard, and several more golden coins dropped into the glass from his hand. He tipped the glass of sticky coins into his jacket pocket, and then tapped the pocket to show, unmistakably, that it was empty. "There," he said. "That's a coin trick for you." Barrel-aged whiskey and oak. Shadow saw the old woman, her dark face pinched with age and disapproval, but behind her he saw something huge, a naked woman with skin as black as a new leather jacket, and lips and tongue the bright red of arterial blood. Around her neck were skulls, and her many hands held knives, and swords, and severed heads. Spices, cardamom, nutmeg, and flowers. The smoke stung Shadow’s eyes. He wiped the tears away with his hand, and, through the smoke, he thought he saw a tall man in a suit, with gold-rimmed spectacles. The smoke cleared and the boatman was once more a half-human creature with the head of a river bird. Papyrus, vanilla flower, Egyptian musk, African musk, aloe ferox, white sandalwood. Shadow looked up at the creature. "Mr. Jacquel?" he said. The hands of Anubis came down, huge dark hands, and they picked Shadow up and brought him close. The jackal head examined him with bright and glittering eyes; examined him as dispassionately as Mr. Jacquel had examined the dead girl on the slab. Shadow knew that all his faults, all his failings, all his weaknesses were being taken out and weighed and measured; that he was, in some way, being dissected, and sliced, and tasted. We do not remember the things that do no credit to us. We justify them, cover them in bright lies or with the thick dust of forgetfulness. All of the things that Shadow had done in his life of which he was not proud, all the things he wished his had done otherwise or left undone, came at him then in a swirling storm of guilt and regret and shame, and he had nowhere to hide from them. He was as naked and as open as a corpose on a table, and dark Anubis the jackal god was his prosector and his prosecutor and his persecutor. "Please," said Shadow. "Please stop." But the examination did not stop. Every lie he had ever told, every object he had stolen, every hurt he had inflicted on another person, all the little crimes and the tiny murders that make up the day, each of these things and more were extracted and held up to the light by the jackal-headed judge of the dead. Golden amber, hyssop, North African patchouli, and embalming spices.
Neil Gaiman's Official Site Neil Gaiman's Official Online Store This is a charitable, not-for-profit venture: proceeds from every single bottle go to the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund, which works to preserve and protect the First Amendment rights of the comics community. Each bottle is $25.00, and imps are not available for this series. Crow Moon is shining over the Limited Edition section. Beneath him, the transformation into werebeast begins:
The illustration of Neil on the Carousel page was doodled by the Goddess of Doodling, Jennifer Williamson. =D A trillion hugs for Jennifer! From the January 1, 2007 update: Holy Mother of Disco Balls, is it really already 2007?! I know what you’re all here for, and so as not to be a pain, I’ll get on with the good stuff, and leave the gushing for last: Carnaval Diabolique’s Act III is live. Black Phoenix is proud to present the Magnificent Miracles of our Unhallowed Midway: the Parliament of Monsters! For your pleasure, ALIVE on the INSIDE: THE 13-IN-1! Images captured by the Devil’s own portrait artist: the inimitable, infernal, mystifying Mistress of the Brush and Palette, Gennivre. Hunger Moon is high in the sky, and Bakeneko, this month’s shapeshifter, is prowling the halls. They will both be available until January 5th, 2007. Also new this month: our canticle to the complexities of love and lust – the Lupercalia series. We also present a Valentine’s Day subseries: an olfactory dissertation on the mysteries of spiritual and earthly love –Ashtanyika: the Faces of the Heroine. Both of these collections can be found on our Limited Edition page. Since the winter season can be so brutal, we have also added three therapeutic blends to the Panaceas, our aromatherapy collection: There are many perfumes that we had tagged for 2006 -- and years prior to it! -- that we hope we’ll be able to go forward with in 2007. There are a myriad of new scents in the works, plus four more acts in Carnaval Diabolique. At least one new category will be introduced to the general catalogue, and things will be popping, fizzing, glooping, and schmearing all over Black Phoenix Trading Post. All in all, I think aught seven will be a fine year. Happy New Year’s, one and all! Though many, many wonderful things happened during 2006, I’m really looking forward to a new year devoid of nutty landlords, broiler-hot temporary warehouses, and imploding imp vials. The clichée; says that what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, right? Welp, we’ve gone through quite a few years of emotional buffing up – I’ll be grateful for a little more rest and a lot more fun! May 2007 bring us all, the entirety of the BPAL family -- both Lab Rat and our beloved clients, a reprieve from stress and grief. May the year bless us with prosperity and peace, and shower every single one of us with just enough excitement to keep our hearts racing while leaving our sanity intact! From the December 3, 2006 update: Sorry if this new.html plug is a little disjointed. The holiday season is a crazymaker, and I am ass-dragging tired! Wolf Moon is live at BPAL. The Black Phoenix Trading Post Wolf Moon update will go live tomorrow night. Starting this Lunacy, we will be celebrating the full moon twice-over by offering a therianthropic blend in tandem with the Lunacy perfume. This month’s A Lot of Lunacy blend is dedicated to our Hellenic representative from the werewolf caucus: Lycaon. The Halloweenies, Order of the Dragon, and Anniversary scents have been given a brief reprieve. They will remain live until Wolf Moon comes down on December 7, 2006. Also new this update a new exhibit in the Salon! 16 new artistic interpretations are available for your perusal. A new imp set is also available there, and covers all sixteen of the new perfumes. The next Carnaval Diabolique act will be live in December, along with a few other surprises that will span BPAL, BPTP, and TAL. Whoops! Almost forgot... Shub-Niggurath is back. ;) We sincerely hope that everyone’s winter is glittering, and is as painless and drama-free as possible! From the 4 November 2006 update: Happy anniversary to us! Four years, baby, and we’re still chugging along! A sincere, heartfelt, and loving thanks to all of our clients for being so supportive through all our trials, for giving us the opportunity to pursue our heart’s desire, and for gifting us with an unrivaled extended family of the most phenomenal, fascinating, and multi-faceted people on this planet. Now, before I get all sappy – as I am wont to do – let’s get on with the show! Bitter Moon is live! BITTER MOON Kokoro no oni ga mi wo semeru. The body is tortured only by the demon of the heart. Nepal poppy, lotus root, wild rose, and blue hibiscus with blackberry, tonka, sage, lavender, peony and vetiver. Our Doodle Goddess, Jennifer Williamson, has provided some incredibly sexy artwork for the Bitter Moon tee – artwork that is amazingly appropriate for the BPALiversary, too. It will be live, along with a few more new items, on the Black Phoenix Trading Post site tomorrow. With this, we close the Year of Asian Moons. Bitter Moon will be live at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab until November 7, 2006. To commemorate our anniversary, we’re bringing back some discontinued scents. Live until December 1, 2006 PURPLE PHOENIX Porphyrogenitus, indeed; we worked for it! Not simply the color of royalty, purple is also the color of sorrow and mourning, reconciliation and forgiveness. A regal, majestic, and somber blend of myrrh, plum blossom, African violet, cognac, fig, orris, lilac, wisteria, black plum, and Burgundy wine grapes. Many things are still on the calendar for this year at BPAL, BPTP, and TAL, so keep poking around! Carnaval Diabolique moves into its next chapter, some long-awaited scents from the 2006 preview are making their debut, spooky new designs and some shiny bling is arriving at the Trading Post, and TAL will have some new tricks up its proverbial sleeve. This year ain’t over yet, friends and neighbors! Thank you again for four amazing fucking years. Our lives are truly enriched by every single one of you, and we hope that we can continue to share our dreams, nightmares, and perversities for many, many years to come! From the Friday the 13th update: Happy Friday the 13th! 13 has been reformulated this month. There are thirteen different lucky and unlucky components: cocoa and vanilla beans, Mysore sandalwood, star fruit, orange rind, red amber, fig leaf, mimosa, rooibos tea, bourbon geranium, rose otto, nutmeg, and lavender. This scent is as sexy as a black cat and as much fun as finding a four-leafed clover. ;) Four new plants have bloomed in the Garden: The Grim Reaper once again graces Funereal Oils with his smiling mug: Two new Love Potions make their debut: Mania dances through Excolo, and, at long last, a new perfume joins Diabolus' infernal ho-down: Hm. Seems like I’m forgetting something Ah, yes! The Yuletide update is live! Yes, I know that we’re not even out of autumn yet, and here I am piling snow and sleet on all of you. We always put the winter scents up early to ensure that people have ample time to order them for Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Solstice, Diwali, Shichi-Go-San, Luciadagen, Jongwol Daeborum, Tet, and all other winter holidays. Please note: we respectfully request that any orders you want to receive in time for Christmas be placed by November 20th. (Yes, we know Christmas isn’t the only holiday in winter, but it is the one that most Westerners are primarily concerned about when it comes to gift-giving issues. No offense intended to anyone, obee kaybee?) And now that I’ve laid down the disclaimers and whatnot, let’s get on to the good part: Happy Friday the 13th, ladies and gentlemen! From the 5 October 2006 update: WHITE MOON Look down, fair moon, and bathe this scene; Pour softly down night’s nimbus floods, on faces ghastly, swollen, purple; On the dead, on their backs, with their arms toss’d wide, Pour down your unstinted nimbus, sacred moon. The chill winds and dark skies of November mark a time of reflection and release, and though the sting of grief is oft-times most painful during this portion of the year, the icy air brings clarity and eases the burden of suffering. These are the blossoms of loss and liberation, soothed by the calm, comforting scent of sandalwood : lilac, calla lily, wisteria, white sandalwood, moonflower, night musk, phlox, and violet. From the 6 September 2006 update: Good evening, all! Kindly Moon is going up a few hours early tonight. We’re still in the middle of working on the BPTP update, and I want to get a few more hours of labor into it tonight before I pass out. The Kindly Moon tee will be available when the BPTP update goes live. =) KINDLY MOON Hide this one night thy crescent, kindly Moon; So shall Endymion faithful prove, and rest Loving and unawakened on the breast; So shall no foul enchanter importune Thy quiet course; for now the night is boon, And through the friendly night unseen I fare, Who dread the face of foemen unaware, And watch of hostile spies in the bright noon. Thou knowest, Moon, the bitter power of Love; 'Tis told how shepherd Pan found ways to move, For little price, thy heart; and of your grace, Sweet stars, be kind to this not alien fire, Because on earth ye did not scorn desire, Bethink ye, now ye hold your heavenly place. Utterly ethereal, an exquisite expression of love: moonflower, lotus root, white gardenia, beeswax, peach blossom, blue musk, stargazer lily, golden osmanthus, ti, sandalwood, hyacinth, ylang ylang, and a touch of vanilla bean. From the 28 August 2006 update: Hey! September 2nd is almost here! Don’t forget to mark “Birthday Spankings For Brian” on your calendars! Some of the BPAL crew is heading out to Vegas for the weekend to celebrate, but fear not: we're only gone Saturday and Sunday, so birthday shennanigans shan't affect order turnaround. Hell, even Lab Rats have to party a little once in a while. ;) The Trading Post will be updating with a new selection of tees tomorrow night, and – at long last! – the lockets are back in stock, and will be available for sale tomorrow evening. The Big Ol’ BPTP Update is slotted for next week, so keep your eyes peeled! Holy moly! Wotta update! Happy Halloweenie, all! For the first time, Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab has shifted gears with a Limited Edition series, and last year’s Springtime In Arkham has been reborn as the general catalogue section, A Picnic In Arkham. Limited Edition scents are limited for a number of reasons, the most common being cost of production and the limited quantity of component oils used in their manufacture. We have wanted for ages to bring back many of the Arkham scents, but it proved impossible until about a month ago. Since we received the good news, we’ve compiled the scents that we are able to put into constant production and have added a few newcomers. Fergit ants! – night-gaunts are going to be all over those jelly sandwiches of yours! AL AZIF -- An Arabic term that refers to both the chirping of nocturnal insects and the ambient sound made by the chattering of demons. This is the original title of the feared Necronomicon, the Book of Dead Names, penned by the Mad Arab, Abdul Alhazred. Nor is it to be thought that man is either the oldest or the last of earth’s masters, or that the common bulk of life and substances walks alone. The Old Ones were, the Old Ones are, and the Old Ones shall be. Not in the spaces we know, but between them, They walk serene and primal, undimensioned and to us unseen. Yog-Sothoth knows the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the key and guardian of the gate. Past, present, future, all are one in Yog-Sothoth. He knows where the Old Ones broke through of old, and where They shall break through again. He knows where They have trod earth’s fields, and where They still tread them, and why no one can behold Them as They tread. By Their smell can men sometimes know Them near, but of Their semblance can no man know, saving only in the features of those They have begotten on mankind; and of those are there many sorts, differing in likeness from man’s truest eidolon to that shape without sight or substance which is Them. They walk unseen and foul in lonely places where the Words have been spoken and the Rites howled through at their Seasons. The wind gibbers with Their voices, and the earth mutters with Their consciousness. They bend the forest and crush the city, yet may not forest or city behold the hand that smites. Kadath in the cold waste hath known Them, and what man knows Kadath? The ice desert of the South and the sunken isles of Ocean hold stones where Their seal is engraven, but who hath seen the deep frozen city or the sealed tower long garlanded with seaweed and barnacles? Great Cthulhu is Their cousin, yet can he spy Them only dimly. Iä! Shub-Niggurath! As a foulness shall ye know Them. Their hand is at your throats, yet ye see Them not; and Their habitation is even one with your guarded threshold. Yog-Sothoth is the key to the gate, whereby the spheres meet. Man rules now where They ruled once; They shall soon rule where man rules now. After summer is winter, and after winter summer. They wait patient and potent, for here shall They reign again. A sinister, sinuous incense of summoning, a herald and paean to the Primordial Gods of Darkness, Chaos, Madness and Decay. R'lyeh and Nyarlathotep have been pulled from Wanderlust and Excolo, respectively, and have been put into their proper place. If possible, we will be incorporating some of the other original Springtime scents, but at this point, I’m not making any promises. This is the traditional onset of the Halloween season at BPAL, and this year’s Halloweenie LE offerings are: The Pumpkin Patch is being revisited, and the whole kit and caboodle of pumpkinny goodness can be yours for $75! In addition, we are paying an autumnal visit to Transylvania with a Limited Edition subseries, The Order of the Dragon: Black Moon and Schwarzer Mond are staying live for a few extra days, and will be coming down on August 31, 2006. It is $25 per 5ml bottle of Black Moon or Schwarzer Mond or $45 for both moons. The Order of the Dragon and the Halloweenies will be live/undead until December 1, 2006, and as always, no imp's ears are available for Limited Edition scents. From the 23 August 2006 update: The Black Moon is darkening the skies above the Lab! The Dark Moon is a time of secrets and hidden truths, of veils and binding, justice and revenge. It is sacred to the Crone, and to Gods and Goddesses of magick, death, and mysteries. The Black Moon has many meanings, but in any incarnation, it signifies a swelling of power. To us, it is the Blue Moon’s dark sister. We at Black Phoenix present two interpretations of the Black Moon’s energy: Black Moon: Beth’s Creation The absence of light: motia attar, black orchid, mugwort, English pear, cucumber, blue lotus, jonquil, massoia, calamus and crystal musk. Schwarzer Mond: Brian’s Creation The keeper of secrets: opoponax, Tunisian black amber, night musk, antique patchouli, zdravetz, terebinth, myrrh, and Pimenta racemosa. From the 11 August 2006 update: 10ml's go poof! From the 8 August 2006 update: As of Chrysanthemum Moon, our monthly Lunacy will stretch from a single 24-hour period to three days. As many of you know, A Little Lunacy is a monthly rotating Limited Edition series that BPAL started in June 2004. On the night of the Full Moon – and now, beginning on the night prior to the Full Moon and running through the night after the Full Moon – we present a scent to our clients that is dedicated to the season that moon falls within, the mythological theme of that moon, the agricultural or mystic rituals that mark the day, or holy days that fall at that time. And sometimes, as is with the case of Chrysanthemum Moon, we go in strange directions. Moon, moon, moon. I typed that word a lot, didn’t I? Why three days? Well, we want to make things as painless as possible for our clients and, as Shollin (from the bpal indy forum) said, "Hey, if it's good enough for werewolves, it's good enough for the Lunacy." Agreed! The 10mls and F5 will be going the way of the dodo when Chrysanthemum Moon vanishes: minutes into August 11th, PST. As a small reminder, CT:3 and Et Lux Fuit will be coming down on the 15th, and the Halloween update is going live later this month. Chrysanthemum Moon is also live at the Black Phoenix Trading Post. I went to an opium den and all I got was this lousy t-shirt! A stunningly seedy rendition of the sign that adorns Carnaval Diabolique's most notorious opium den, Chrysanthemum Moon. Another morbid memento by the glorious Jennifer Williamson. Deep brown distressed ink with golden glitter highlights.  Due to the glittery goodness and multiple colors, the price for this tee is slightly higher: Crew neck - $17.00 Babydoll - $22.00 3X Crew Neck - $19.00 I truly hope that everyone enjoys the direction that we went with this Lunacy! From the 3 August 2006 update: Oh lord, what a year! The ship times are returning to normal, and – yet again – I have to offer our thanks to all of you for your patience and kindness during the roughest time that BPAL has ever experienced. Without further adieu, let’s kick this off!  THE CARNAVAL HAS ARRIVED! Carnaval Diabolique is a series comprised of seven acts. The first two are now presented for your pleasure and amusement, and the following acts will appear over the next 13 months. A million truly heartfelt thanks to Gennivre, L'Artiste du Diable, for all her blood and sweat, and for the phenomenal, perverse magick that she created for our devilish enterprise. Basil Hallward would be proud! In addition to the Carnaval’s macabre offerings, we also submit the following general catalogue scents for your consideration LAND HO, MATEYS! The Phantom Islands are in our sights! At long last, there are two new additions to our aromatherapy line: Panacea. And the lastest edition to the Salon... We have also added imp packs to several previously unimpable sections of the catalogue. Full imp sets of the Chakras, the Salon, the Sephiroth and Qliphoth, the Panaceas, and the Tarot Blends. Imps in these categories can only be purchased in a set, and the prices are scaled from section to section. Please refer to the specifc catalogue page or the Imp’s Ears page for more information. This summer, a new Carnaval is going to be making the rounds. In celebration, we're revisiting last summer's Carnaval Noir until April 20th: The following LE scents are live until April 20th: Our love of Swinburne gave birth to Hymn to Proserpine, new to Bewitching Brews. Apologies for bulking up the page with the whole poem, but hey -- its one of our favorites. And since we're so damned happy that the Cheshire cat is back, we've added a whole bushel of concoctions to the Mad Tea Party! And that, beloved, is all the news that's fit to print. Wish us luck with the move to the new warehouse! From the 14 Mar 2006, Mercury-Retrograde-Choke-A-Bitch update: On June 1st, Springtime In Arkham will pass into the ether, and will be replaced by Carnavale Noir, a 13-deep LE miniseries. As of tonight, Graveyard Dirt and the Ides of March are still available. The scents that were formerly under Oblation [Cerberus, Chiroptera, Corazon, Oisín, and Thunderbird] are being discontinued on April 15th. Until then, they will be up in the LE section of the site. Please note: Graveyard Dirt was placed in Funereal Oils and not Voodoo, as this version of Graveyard Dirt does not possess the esoteric qualities of the Twilight Alchemy Lab oil of the same name, though the scent is damn near identical. The following is a preview of scents that will become available throughout the rest of the year. Please do not request samples until they go live on the site; they are all still in their prototype or conceptual stages and are not available for purchase in any form. Also coming later this year... more from the Great Alchemists Collection: Several limited editions will be coming in sets this year. The first pairings of the year will be... In addition, we will be working on a bevy of mythological blends, the Arthurian Collection, the Temple Blends series, the Loas, and an influx of Voodoo Blends. The Shojo Beat logo is a trademark of VIZ Media, LLC. Used with permission. |
