Morbid Curiosity

[rabidconduit]

As I start work on my paper about EmilyDickinson's Puritan background and her links to the heritage of thecaptivity narrative through her masochistic obsession with prolongedpain, I have been running into Gothic imagery of a macabre all day. 
First a taste of Dickinson:

414

'Twas like a Maelstrom, with a notch,
That nearer, every Day,
Kept narrowing its boiling Wheel
Until the Agony

Toyed coolly with the final inch
Of your delirious Hem-
And you dropt, lost,
When something broke-
And let you from a Dream-

As if a Goblin with a Gauge-
Kept measuring the Hours-
Until you felt your Second
Weigh, helpless, in his Paws-

And not a Sinew-stirred-could help,
And sense was setting numb-
When God-remembered-and the Fiend
Let go, then, Overcome-

As if your Sentence stood-pronounced-
And you were frozen led
From Dungeon's luxury of Doubt
To Gibbets, and the Dead-

And when the Film had stitched your eyes
A Creature gasped "Reprieve"!
Which Anguish was the utterest-then-
To perish, or to live?

Then, I ran into the new Manson "If I Was Your Vampire." I have never been a big fan, but I have always admired his sound.

Then I read this Story.

And new Interpol songs, though they are live and the audio is a little shitty.