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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! BLOOD MOON 2008 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 <i>the anointed cherub that covereth</i>, and touched by blood-dimmed lunar oils. The Blood Moon tee is up at Black Phoenix Trading Post! It will be live until 18 September 2008! 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. I want to clarify before I faceplant... The Mother Shub popcorn scent sold out. The MVJBA packs now come with the Miskatonic Valley Junior Baseball Association's Dog Days of Summer scent: a languid and loathsome blend of dead wildflowers and smoky, sun-baked grass under a hot, humid blanket of summer gloom. Zzz...

The revision of the faq has been in the works for about a year. I've been insanely busy at work and in my personal life, so the revision ended up on the backburner. Kathy and Bill have a list about 60 pages long of things I should address there, and I'm still working on it. Honestly, it isn't going to get done any time soon. Sincerest apologies if that bothers people, but I just don't have any time at all right now. After the sales of the Synthetic Line prototypes, I could no longer state that we have never sold anything that doesn't contain synthetics, so I pulled the statement completely lest there be a misunderstanding. When I'm not bombed by a million BPAL and BPTP issues and the imminent birth of Junior, I'll get back to revising the faq. =) And regarding how prolific we are... I don't have the time to be insulted right now. I can always slow down the updates if that'll increase buyer confidence. That's an option. For Yule, all you get is Rat King. How's that? (I kid, I kid.)

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. This gorgeous tee design was doodled by the incomperable Jennifer Williamson! Corn-yellow ink on chocolate brown tee. 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. II 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 and Pumpkin Patch by our beloved <A href="http://www.jenniferwilliamson.com">Jennifer Williamson</A>! 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! Bone-white, pumpkin orange, and arterial-spray red shimmer ink on black tee. The inks on this tee are a contrast of flat and shimmer. The finer lines on the tee are done in flat ink. 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!

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. This gorgeous tee design was doodled by the incomperable Jennifer Williamson! Corn-yellow ink on chocolate brown tee. 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. II 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 and Pumpkin Patch 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! Bone-white, pumpkin orange, and arterial-spray red shimmer ink on black tee. The inks on this tee are a contrast of flat and shimmer. The finer lines on the tee are done in flat ink. 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!

The Snow, Glass, Apples set has sold out! The CBLDF has a few remaining sets from Comic Con, both signed and unsigned. They will be putting them up at the CBLDF's web site as soon as they can get a count and get it set up. I’ll keep everyone posted on that! Thank you!

175 sets are live, and ready to find a good home. =)

We have been contacted by Canadian customs, and they feel that we have been undervaluing the contents of our exports to Canada. I wanted to give you guys a heads up that we will be making sure that the declared value matches the package contents, otherwise Canadian customs will be stopping all BPAL shipments to their country. Just lettin’ everyone know!

We've completed the count, and 175 SGA packs remain. These will go live at 10pm PST on July 30th.

Hey guys! Sales for Snow, Glass, Apples are temporarily suspended while we get a manual count of PayPal sales and double check availability. Any remaining SGA packs will go live on the 30th at 10pm PST. Please stay tuned for announcements to that effect. Thanks!

Snow, Glass, Apples is live at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab! She said nothing. Her eyes were black as coal, black as her hair; her lips were redder than blood. She looked up at me and smiled. Her teeth seemed sharp, even then, in the lamplight. "What are you doing away from your room?" "I'm hungry," she said, like any child. It was winter, when fresh food is a dream of warmth and sunlight; but I had strings of whole apples, cored and dried, hanging from the beams of my chamber, and I pulled an apple down for her. "Here." Autumn is the time of drying, of preserving, a time of picking apples, of rendering the goose fat. Winter is the time of hunger, of snow, and of death; and it is the time of the midwinter feast, when we rub the goose-fat into the skin of a whole pig, stuffed with that autumn's apples, then we roast it or spit it, and we prepare to feast upon the crackling. She took the dried apple from me and began to chew it with her sharp yellow teeth. "Is it good?" She nodded. I had always been scared of the little princess, but at that moment I warmed to her and, with my fingers, gently, I stroked her cheek. She looked at me and smiled -- she smiled but rarely -- then she sank her teeth into the base of my thumb, the Mound of Venus, and she drew blood. I began to shriek, from pain and from surprise; but she looked at me and I fell silent. Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab is thrilled to present a numbered, limited edition chapbook of Neil Gaiman’s acclaimed short story, Snow, Glass, Apples, beautifully illustrated by Julie Dillon. Each package includes a 5ml bottle of perfume, created by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab, that was inspired by the tale. In Neil’s words, ‘It smells like green apples and like sex and vampires, all at the same time. (Actually, it smells like sexy vampire apples.)’ This set is a limited run of 1000. 250 were sold by CBLDF at San Diego Comic Con 2008, and the remainder are available through the Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab web site. Snow, Glass, Apples will be available on the BPAL site as long as supplies last. This is a charitable, not-for-profit venture: proceeds from every single set go to the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund, which works to preserve and protect the First Amendment rights of the comics community. A million thanks and all our love to Neil, and to Charles Brownstein and his staff at the CBLDF! The Black Moon is darkening the skies above the Lab once more! 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: Lune Noire: Beth’s Creation The encroaching darkness: black orchid, jonquil, white pear, white amber, gardenia, olibanum, champaca, sweet clove, tonka, oakmoss, and blue musk. Schwarzer Mond 2008: Brian’s Creation The keeper of secrets: opoponax, Tunisian black amber, night musk, antique patchouli, zdravetz, terebinth, myrrh, and Pimenta racemosa. And now, a word from Puddin: I’m hosting a little forum-only guessing game this week! We want to raise money for a good cause, and have some fun in the process. What’s the game? -- try and guess when our offspring will be born! Each guess costs $1.00 US, and all proceeds go to the March of Dimes. How to play: Paypal me your dollar at tradingpost (AT) papow (DOT) net, and make sure you include your forum name, your IRL name, your address, and the date and time that you think that our bundle of joy will pop out. The person whose guess is closest to the actual moment of delivery will win a gift pack full of BPAL and BPTP goodies. PLEASE do not include your dollar ante with any other orders. We need to keep this separate for the sake of organization. Here’s a hint: we conceived during the first week of December. Because of the nature of pregnancy, that puts the birth date anywhere between August 1st and September 15th! (A comment from your narrator – she’d better not be any later than September 15th! ) And, in other BPAL news… The last two Carnaval acts are still a work in progress, and will be live as quickly as (in)humanly possible. CD is a complex series that involves many hands. =) Due to production and procreating impediments, the Carnaval’s stay will be extended slightly to accommodate the delay. Thank you for understanding! The Halloweenie update will go live in August, in keeping with BPAL tradition! And lastly, I want to make a public personal post. Huge, heartfelt thanks to Brian (Corinthian here on the forum!), my BFF and business partner. Brian has picked up all the slack at the Lab since I got pregnant, and has been working his ass off doing all of his work keeping production moving and taking care of accounting and stock while also doing the bulk of my blending. Without his help and his friendship, and without his asskicking Virgo’ness, we wouldn’t be moving as smoothly as we are today. Thank you, Brian! I love you, you big ol’ Virgo, you! Thank you, also, to my beloved husband, Ted, who has been babysitting my silly ass for the past eight months, and who has also been helping out at the Lab whenever he can. I love you, my knight in shiny Libra armor! Massive thanks to Kathy, Bill, Jacquelynn, and the lab rats for putting up with my hormonal brain farts, and for taking care of customer service, wholesale, and production with such love and care. Gigantic hugs and bushels of love to all of our customers, too, for being so patient with us during my pregnancy and the little setbacks that have cropped up during this time.

The Snow, Glass, Apples update will be going live tonight due to pregnancy inconveniences. Just lettin' people know!

Just a small reminder, ladies and gents – the Snow, Glass, Apples set will be available through the CBLDF at San Diego Comic Con! All our love and thanks to Neil for making this possible, and for taking the time to sign a few of the chapbooks! Neil, you really are one hell of a good guy, and we love ya! =D Here’s a recap of the details: Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab is thrilled to present a numbered, limited edition chapbook of Neil Gaiman’s acclaimed short story, Snow, Glass, Apples, beautifully illustrated by Julie Dillon. Each package includes a 5ml bottle of perfume, created by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab, that was 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. This is a charitable, not-for-profit venture: proceeds from every single set go to the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund, which works to preserve and protect the First Amendment rights of the comics community. Please visit the CBLDF’s booth at SDCC! 1831 and 1833 Neil Gaiman http://www.neilgaiman.com/ The Comic Book Legal Defense Fund http://www.cbldf.org/ Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab http://www.blackphoenixalchemylab.com More Neil news: Neil signed a HEAP of tees for the CBLDF, and some will be on sale through the fund at Comic Con! More CBLDF news: July 26: CBLDF's Comic-Con Auction! Live Art Auction! Saturday, 7:00 – 9:00 PM Room 2 This is the big one! The CBLDF holds its biggest auction of the year at Comic-Con, and this year brings some amazing one-of-a-kind items to raise money for Free Speech! Primo items include original art by Jack Kirby, Dave Gibbons, Walter Simonson, J. Scott Campbell, Jeff Smith, Neil Gaiman, Paul Pope, & more! All this plus rare comics, signed graphic novels, and prints! You will need a bidder number for this auction, at the CBLDF Booth #1831 or at the start of the event. Check out the full list of items below: 1) Matt Wagner, Stephen Colbert’s Tek Jansen #2, Cover (original art) 2) Jeff Smith, Shazam: Monster Society of Evil dust jacket gatefold, (original art) 3) Jack Kirby & Vince Colletta, “The Teacher,” 10 page romance story (original art) 4) Dave Gibbons, Watchmen group portrait (original art) 5) J. Scott Campbell, Liberty Comics Danger Girl cover (original art) 6) Walter Simonson, Thor in Asgard, (original art) 7) Jim Silke, Bettie Page watercolor (original art) 8) Greg Rucka, Montoya Crime Journal – One of a kind journal created by Greg Rucka for “The Question”. Details: http://www.vicsage.com/wp/montoyas-journal...artifact-photos (book arts) 9) Paul Pope, Batman Year 100 page(original art) 10) Mike Allred, Solo -- Mr. Miracle ‘Batusi’ Unused Cover (original art) 11) Shaun McManus, Swamp Thing, Pog group portrait (original art) 12) Terry Moore, Strangers in Paradise #8, p 4 (original art) 13) Marc Silvestri, Whilce Portacio, Rob Liefeld, Jim Valentino, Erik Larsen, jam drawing, pencil on Bristol (original art) 14) Nicholas Gurewich, Perry Bible Fellowship – “Zuthulu’s Resurrection” (original art) 15) Brian Haberlin, Spawn #173, p 2-3, Double Page Splash (original art) 16) Dave Sim, Neil Gaiman, “Lithograph 1: Neil Gaiman,” signed by Sim, collage retouch by Gaiman (prints/original art) 17) Carla Speed McNeil, Frank Ironwine p. 13, signed by McNeil & Warren Ellis (original art) 18) Eric Powell, Noir #3, page 2, signed with Goon Sketch (original art) 19) Endless Reflections. One of a kind Sandman art tribute.(book arts) 20) Jimmie Robinson!, Bomb Queen CBLDF Pin-Up (original art) 21) Walter Simonson, Orion, original drawing (original art) 22) Charlie Adlard, “The 12 Brothers” 4 page story (original art) 23) Richard Moore, Boneyard pinup (original art) 24) Goran Sudzuka & José Marzan Jr., Y: The Last Man #32, Page 19 (original art) 25) Jeremy Love, Y & Ampersand Pin Up (original art) 26) David Mack, The Shy Creatures, drawing (original art) 27) Spain Rodriguez, Three Women, sketch (original art) 28) Timothy Truman, Grimjack drawing for CBLDF (original art) 29) Ramon Bachs, John Lucas, Civil War: Embedded #4, p. 7 (original art) 30) Brian Stelfreeze, figure studies, set of 7 (original art) 31) Charlie Adlard, First Character designs for The Establishment, set of 5 (original art) 32) Scott Roberts, Patty Cake page (original art) 33) John Heebink, Mighty Morphin Power Rangers #7, p. 14 (original art) 34) Neil Gaiman, The Dangerous Alphabet #260/400 (prints) 35) Neil Gaiman, Murder Mysteries HC, #122/250 (book arts) 36) Neil Gaiman, The Sky At Night broadsheet #1/5 (prints) 37) Superpowers poster signed by Alex Ross (prints) 38) Ewoks original hand painted production cel (animation art) 39) William Stout print #43/75, signed; hurt corners (prints) 40) Rino Munzo 1984 portfolio, signed (prints) 41) Jim Fitzpatrick 1979 Portfolio, signed (prints) 42) Jan Duursema’s Spirit Guides portfolio #510/1500, signed (prints) 43) Harlan Ellison Angry Candy HC, signed (book arts) 44) Ian Carr, Malcolm & Eric, 2 page story (original art) 45) Neil Gaiman, Stardust Movie Premiere ticket, signed (ephemera) 46) Fabio Laguna, Dragon’s Lair pinup (original art) 47) Michael Gaydos, Unidentified, p. 5 (original art) 48) Alan Moore & Todd Klein, Alphabets of Desire, signed print, first edition (prints) 49) Frank Miller, 300 print, printer’s test print, signed (prints) 50) Arthur Suydam, Forbidden Zone poster, signed (prints) 51) Arthur Suydam, Conan poster, 2005, Dragon Con, signed (prints) 52) Eric Powell, Dave Stewart, Goon Monoprint, signed by both with sketch by Powell (prints) 53) Cerebus #147, featuring Neil Gaiman’s 24 Hour Comic, signed with sketch by Sim (comics) So, if you’re in town for the ‘Con, get your funky ass over to the CBLDF booth and the CBLDF’s Saturday auction! You can get your hands on some amazing stuff, and it all goes to a very, very good cause!

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 Ms. 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! 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 this project benefit 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! Coming soon to Black Phoenix Trading Post: the MVJBA Pancake Breakfast and Summoning, the next installment of sin / virtue bath oils, more atmospheric schpritzies, the Courtesans series of solid perfumes, disturbing bunnies and kittens, lockets and pendants inspired by Neil Gaiman's brilliant short stories (benefiting Alzheimer’s research and Match It For Pratchett), and a whole kaboodle more! PSST!… bpal.org forum peeps, mosey on over here.

If you’re in the Los Angeles area, please come down and celebrate with them! There will be fantastic deals on facials, gift bags, product sales, and – most importantly – drinks and cupcakes! If you spend more than $100 with LePink, you’ll be entered in to a raffle for gift baskets valued between $75 and $125. If you purchase two BPAL oils while you’re there, you will receive a little sumthin’. =) Please show your support for a wonderful local business!

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. The Spring Training will be coming down off of the BPTP site when Hay and Mead come down, and the new MVJBA scents will go live soon. =)

13 is live at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab and... The Four Seasons Inquest update is live at Black Phoenix Trading Post! Also! -- 2ml spray samples of the Atmospheric Sprays (Goblin Squirts!) are now available at BPTP for $4 a pop! Squirty squirteroo! A portion of the sales from BPAL's 13 and BPTP's 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 for and sheltering 400+ animals, and we want to do what we can to help.

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!

Suds!

Teddy will be debuting BPTP's new foot scrubs at West Coast Will Call this afternoon. =) They're going to be in limited supply. Thanks! =D

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 sociol¬ogy 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 cou¬rageous, 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, pine resin, pink pepper, crushed berries, tuberose, bergamot, and geranium. WENSLEYDALE "My father says there's no such thing as witches," said Wensley¬dale, 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! Guppies VS Whippoorwills at Black Phoenix Trading Post And that’s it for now! Please keep an eye out for the next Carnaval Diabolique update coming soon!

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: The Worm Moon tee is live! This dapper deceased dandy was drawn by our beloved Jennifer Williamson! Available until March 23, 2008. Also new this month: The Phoenix Steamworks tee! 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 Trading Post is proud to introduce the first in our home fragrance line: Atmospheric Room and Linen Sprays. Use these sprays to establish a distinctive ambiance in your living spaces. Each spray possesses a unique essence, dedicated to a specific type of location. Turn your bedroom into a bordello, your rec room into a dungeon, or your library into the Queen’s Croquet Ground with a few quick schpritzes! 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!

Frederic is making a birthday appearance at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab. Forum-only blend. Available until Leap Day passes here at BPAL: midnight PST on February 29, 2008.

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. A scent of peace, reflection, and renewal of the spirit: sakura, ume blossoms, and wisteria. 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.

More schtuff has been listed on eBay, including one-of-a-kind prototypes of the following unreleased blends: Boleskine Set Sheela Na Gig The Wild Hunt http://search.ebay.com/_W0QQsassZblackphoenixalchemylab Its spring cleaning time at BPAL, so we’re going to be moving a heap of prototypes – some OOAK, some in bulk. Dutch auctions of prototype blends such as the first three attempts at Arachnina (which we have tons of) will also be going live within the next few months. - - - Why are prototypes going on eBay? Because of the nature of our business, sometimes scents just can’t go live in their first incarnations. Often this is due to component issues, but sometimes a prototype just doesn’t fit our vision of how a concept should be interpreted in scent. Even the ones that are flawed still have a warm place in my heart. Sentimental, ain’t I? We spend a great deal of time and money on the creation of every scent, and while I love being surrounded by bottles 24/7, sometimes we have to let a few of them go for the sake of space conservation, and because the clutter of a thousand prototype bottles makes our resident Virgos crazy. Help keep the Virgos from throttling Ted and m’self, and enjoy some unique scents in the process.

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, this month's 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. 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. PISCES Mutable water: the essence of faith. Hemp, opium poppy, sarsaparilla, grains of paradise, passion flower, wisteria, Irish moss, and gentian. 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 Retail Blends 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!