#BookologyThursday "Good night, Godzilla, King of the Monsters. Pleasant dreams." From 'Godzilla Likes to Roar!' by Kerry Milliron, illustrated by Bob Eggleton (1998).

#BookologyThursday "We shall swim out to that brooding reef in the sea and dive down through black abysses to Cyclopean and many-columned Y’ha-nthlei, and in that lair of the Deep Ones we shall dwell amidst wonder and glory for ever." H P Lovecraft - The Shadow Out Of Innsmouth 🎨Alan Moore

The Oillipheist: instagram.com/p/DM539MkRytW/?igsh=MnlpNzdwcmFjMGI
#BookologyThursday #Celtic: Fergus mac Leide and the sinech (“Stormy One”) of Loch Rudraige `came to the loch’s middle part and so flogged it that the salmon of varied hue leaped and flung themselves out upon the shore because they found no resting-place in the water, for the white bottom-sand was churned up to the surface. Now was the loch whiter than new milk, at once all turned to crimson froth of blood. At last the beast, like some vast royal oak, rose on the loch and before Fergus fled. The hero-king, pressing her, plied her with blows so stalwart and so deadly that she died; and with the Sword that was in his hand, with the caladcolg, best blade that was then in Ireland, he hewed her all in pieces. To the loch’s port where the Ulstermen were he brought her heart; but though he did, his own wounds were as many as hers, and than his skin no sieve could be more full of holes. To such effect truly the beast had given him the tooth, that he brought up his very heart’s red blood and hardly might make utterance, but groaned aloud.
As for the Ulstermen, they took no pleasure in viewing the fight, but said that were it upon land the king and the beast had striven they would have helped him, and that right valiantly. Then Fergus made a lay:
My soul this night is full of sadness, my body mangled cruelly; red Loch Rudraige’s beast has pushed sore through my heart. Iubdan’s shoes have brought me through undrowned; with sheeny spear and with the famous sword I have fought a hardy fight. Upon the monster I have avenged my deformity—a signal victory this. Man! I had rather death should snatch me than to live misshapen. Great Eochaid’s daughter Ailinn it is that to mortal combat’s lists compelled me; and ’tis I assuredly that have good cause to sorrow for the shape imposed on me by the beast.
He went on: “Ulstermen, I have gotten my death; but lay ye by and preserve this sword, until out of Ulster there come after me one that shall be a fitting lord; whose name also shall be Fergus; namely, Fergus mac Roig.”
Then lamentably and in tears the Ulstermen stood over Fergus. The poet Aed also, the king’s bard, came and standing over him mourned for Fergus with this quatrain:
By you now be dug Fergus’s grave, the great monarch’s, grave of Leide’s son; calamity most dire it is that by a foolish petty woman’s words he is done to death!
Answering whom Fergus said:
By you be laid up this sword wherewith “the iron-death” is wrought; here after me shall arise one with the name of Fergus. By you be this sword treasured, that none other take it from you; my share of the matter for all time shall be this: that men shall rehearse the story of the sword.
So Fergus’s soul parted from his body: his grave was dug, his name written in the ogam, his lamentation-ceremony all performed; and from the monumental stones (ulad) piled by the men of Ulster this name of Ulad (Ulster) had its origin.`
Source: Ancient Irish Tales, ed. by Tom P. Cross and Clark H. Slover
Here`s the backstory: https://hear-me.social/@NeuKelte/116138147367515870

"no more space on the boat-millions of tons thrown back dead or wounded-the scars on the seabed-& if there is no one there there is still ghostfishing-nets abandoned in the sea they continue through the centuries to catch-mammals fish shellfish–we die". From 'Deep Water Trawling' #BookologyThursday

In Richmond, North Yorkshire, legend claims a secret tunnel runs between the town's castle and a ruined abbey in the nearby hamlet of Easby. It's said that soldiers one day discovered a mysterious tunnel in the castle dungeons and - due to its narrow dimensions - decided to send a young drummer boy along it while they followed his beats from above. About half-a-mile outside town, however, his drumming ceased and he was never seen again. Folklore states that on dark quiet nights, you can still hear his drumming beneath Richmond's marketplace. Similar legends are found elsewhere. In Edinburgh, a tunnel beneath the Royal Mile was explored by a young piper who met a similar fate and the faint sounds of his bagpipes can also be heard in the wee hours. #Folklore #FolkloreThursday #BookologyThursday #history #mythology #Yorkshire #ghosts #paranormal #gothic #weird

The Oillipheist: https://bsky.app/profile/therealwildthing.bsky.social/post/3lq3lkmnqg22b
#BookologyThursday #Celtic: `In their ships and in their galleys the whole province of Ulster, accompanying Fergus mac Leide, now gathered together to Loch Rudraige. They entering the loch gained its center; the monster rose and shook herself in such fashion that of all the vessels she made little bits and, as are the withered twigs beneath horses’ feet, so were they severally crushed, and all swamped before they could reach the strand.
Fergus said to the men of Ulster: “Bide here and sit you all down, that ye may witness how I and the monster shall deal together.” Then he, be ng shod with Iubdan's shoes, leaped into the loch, erect and brilliant and brave, making for the monster. At sound of the hero’s approach she bared her teeth as does a wolf-dog threatened with a club; her eyes blazed like two great torches kindled, suddenly she put forth her sharp claws’ jagged array, bent her neck with the curve of an arch and clenched her glittering tusks, throwing back her ears hideously, till her whole semblance was one of gloomy cruel fury. Alas, for any in this world that should be fated to do battle with that monster: huge-headed long- fanged dragon that she was! The fearsome and colossal creature’s form was this: a crest and mane she had of coarse hair, a mouth that yawned, deep-sunken eyes; on either side thrice fifty flippers, each armed with as many claws recurved; a body impregnable. Thrice fifty feet her extended altitude; round as an apple she was in contraction, but in bulk equalled some great hill in its rough garb of furze.
When the king sighted her he charged, instant, impetuous, and as he went he made this rhapsody:
The evil is upon me that was presaged, . . . etc.
#BookologyThursday #Celtic: `#Finn was afraid of no earthly thing, and he killed many great serpents in Loch Cuilinn and Loch Neathach, and at Beinn Edair; and Shadow-Shapes at Loch Lein and Drom Cleib and Loch Liath…`
Source: Ancient Irish Tales, ed. by Tom P. Cross and Clark H. Slover
Here`s the backstory: https://hear-me.social/@NeuKelte/116137470312010170

"The monster opened its great toothed mouth and the sound that came from it was the sound of the Fog Horn itself. Lonely and vast and far away. The sound of isolation, a viewless sea, a cold night, apartness. That was the sound." Ray Bradbury, 'The Foghorn' #BookologyThursday 🎨 by Zdeněk Burian

"There Leviathan, Hugest of living creatures, on the deep Stretched like a promontory sleeps or swims, And seems a moving land; and at his gills Draws in, and at his trunk spouts out, a sea...." - John Milton, "Paradise Lost" 🎨Gustave Doré #BookologyThursday

"The Ocean has its silent caves, Deep, quiet, & alone; Though there be fury on the waves, Beneath them there is none. The awful spirits of the deep Hold their communion there; And there are those for whom we weep, The young, the bright, the fair." The Ocean, Nathaniel Hawthorne #BookologyThursday