doomsday_disco

Never forget that our classic Snake Oil perfume blend — usually so soft and versatile — is prepared to strike with deadly force. This brickified variation is deeper, earthier, and hissing with rage: vintage patchouli and aged vanilla absolute conspiring with vegetal musks and dark spices to defy the “Three-Article Rule”, tip over a paddy wagon, and make out in the streets.

You work that you may keep pace with the earth and the soul of the earth. For to be idle is to become a stranger unto the seasons, and to step out of life’s procession, that marches in majesty and proud submission towards the infinite. When you work you are a flute through whose heart the whispering of the hours turns to music. Which of you would be a reed, dumb and silent, when all else sings together in unison? Always you have been told that work is a curse and labour a misfortune. But I say to you that when you work you fulfil a part of earth’s furthest dream, assigned to you when that dream was born, And in keeping yourself with labour you are in truth loving life, And to love life through labour is to be intimate with life’s inmost secret. But if you in your pain call birth an affliction and the support of the flesh a curse written upon your brow, then I answer that naught but the sweat of your brow shall wash away that which is written. You have been told also that life is darkness, and in your weariness you echo what was said by the weary. And I say that life is indeed darkness ‘save when there is urge, And all urge is blind save when there is knowledge, And all knowledge is vain save when there is work, And all work is empty save when there is love; And when you work with love you bind yourself to yourself, and to one another, and to God. And what is it to work with love? It is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart, even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth. It is to build a house with affection, even as if your beloved were to dwell in that house. It is to sow seeds with tenderness and reap the harvest with joy, even as if your beloved were to eat the fruit. It is to charge all things you fashion with a breath of your own spirit, And to know that all the blessed dead are standing about you and watching. Often have I heard you say, as if speaking in sleep, “He who works in marble, and finds the shape of his own soul in the stone, is nobler than he who ploughs the soil. And he who seizes the rainbow to lay it on a cloth in the likeness of man, is more than he who makes the sandals for our feet.” But I say, not in sleep but in the overwakefulness of noontide, that the wind speaks not more sweetly to the giant oaks than to the least of all the blades of grass; And he alone is great who turns the voice of the wind into a song made sweeter by his own loving. Work is love made visible. And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy. For if you bake bread with indifference, you bake a bitter bread that feeds but half man’s hunger. And if you grudge the crushing of the grapes, your grudge distils a poison in the wine. And if you sing though as angels, and love not the singing, you muffle man’s ears to the voices of the day and the voices of the night. Work is love made visible, so let’s all chip in and do the work. White sandalwood, fig, bourbon vanilla, and angelica.

Red Currant and Hay.

Too lazy to be ambitious, I let the world take care of itself. Ten days’ worth of rice in my bag; a bundle of twigs by the fireplace. Why chatter about delusion and enlightenment? Listening to the night rain on my roof, I sit comfortably, with both legs stretched out. -Taigu Ryokan Ten days-worth of rice, a bundle of twigs, and a soothing cup of white tea.

Coagula. Let us join together in smug benevolence! The rewards will be plentiful for those gathered up in our aetheric cloud of sugared vanilla musk, candyfloss, and ruby chocolate warmed with a hint of clove.

A gently floral twist on the famous Swedish saffron buns baked for the feast day of St. Lucia, their curly S-shapes baked golden.

Lavender cotton candy fur and vanilla popcorn balls, sent skittering out of the kitchen with a good-natured wave of our polished wood rolling pin.

Lemon cream, incense smoke, and candle wax.

“The full-length velvet glove hides the fist.” A wallop of our brick accord sheathed in gentle sandalwood, warmed by cocoa vanilla and a veil of deep myrrh.

 Amber incense, guava cream, almond milk, and sandalwood.

Violet and Vanilla Chiffon.

Lilac-stained labdanum casting a long shadow across a flicker of frankincense smoke and ambergris accord. Odilon Redon

Dead grass, upturned soil, rusted ironwork, and oak leaves etched against a sepia-stained wash of tonka bean, patchouli, vetiver, and amber-tinged oud. Carl Gustav Carus

A fortunate accident wherein a copious glob of aged patchouli was erroneously en’globbened into the mother bottle of Whip.

Rivulets of beeswax, a blackened wick, and a shuddering gust of smoke.

Guttering Candle is really lovely and very evocative of a freshly blown out candle. The beeswax note is the same sweet beeswax we know and love, and the smoke in this is non-acrid and doesn't take over; it really does smell like a freshly-blown out candle. I did deathmatch this against The Light of Men's Lives, but my imp of that was aged and didn't smell as beeswax-y and awesome as it used to, so I'm not considering it as a true deathmatch. I also tested this alongside (Not So) Penitent (Mini) Magdalene and Shouutsushi Aioi Genji and found it was more similar to those than that aged imp of The Lights of Men's Lives. Maybe because they also feature a similar candle smoke note and are heavier on it than The Lights of Men's Lives. The only reason I didn't upgrade this one to a bottle is because I already don't reach for the beeswax scents that I have enough. But if there were a beeswax hair gloss to pair them with, maybe I would reach for them more often... Guttering Candle Hair Gloss for Halloween, perhaps?

I am not familiar with the smell of lemon balm, so maybe trust those who review it that know what the actual thing smells like. But this is a lovely lemony hair gloss that would be great for spring or summer. I get some tart lemon, some greenery, and maybe a musk representing the wind note. There's no cream in this, but there's a creaminess to it, or something soft, and a mild sweetness. There really is a sun-warmed vibe to this, too. Like the previous reviewer, I prefer it over the Lemon Blossom Hair Gloss, which I haven't tried in my hair yet, but which smells like soap in the decant to me. This one doesn't smell soapy at all. The scent itself is very short-lived, though. I applied it to wet hair, dry hair, and a paper towel, and of course, it had the most longevity in the paper towel. I swear I couldn't smell it any longer in my wet hair after 20 minutes, but the dry hair application didn't have much staying power, either, and it definitely didn't have any throw. I think it smells lovely, but I do wish it were stronger and had more staying power. As far as currently available lemon hair glosses go, I'd go with this one, but Cabbage White Caterpillar is still my favorite lemon hair gloss with its sugary lemon marshmallow goodness.

Creamy coconut flesh, cold and pale as moonlight.

Chills and thrills, but certainly no frills: a polluted, rough-riding version of the Traditional Sheet Ghost: cool white cotton, marshmallow fluff, and lemony Oman frankincense, marred with suspicious blotches of coconut oil and a cigarette burn.

Celestial drama. Radiant pomegranate crowned with golden amber and saffron, a waft of singed frankincense, and velvet black cherry. From a 13th century Manuscript of the Apocalypse

…The second time is set Whose crumbs the crows inspect And with ironic caw Flap past it to the Farmer’s corn Men eat of it and die – Emily Dickinson An ironic caw: dry hay absolute, syrupy candied fig, a lash of scathing pink pepper, and the dark gleam of bittersweet blackcurrant.

Blue Lilac and Lily of the Valley.

Come not between the dragon, and his wrath: a rolling crack of Daemonorops draco and red peppercorn, billows of incense smoke, honeyed Cambodian oud, blackened oakmoss, flame-gold amber, a delicate membrane of leather, and a curved, sharp sandalwood claw.

Kite and Two Crows is mostly about the rain-soaked leaves on me, and the leaves are a fresh, green variety -- there are no dead leaves to be found here! This is backed by the woods and resins, as well as some dry tea. I do get a bit of smokiness from the cedar note, but it's not overly smoky -- there's just a touch of smoke that is present in the early drydown of the scent, but the smokiness doesn't last long beyond that. This has good throw and staying power, and it reads as fresh, but also somewhat cologne-like, to my nose. I don't feel the need to upgrade this one to a bottle, but if you're looking for rain-soaked leaves, this scent has got you covered!

This one starts off with the cherry being the most prominent note, backed by the resins, pomegranate, and saffron, but the cherry quickly retreats, making the scent mostly about the pomegranate and saffron-infused resins until the very end of the day, when the lovely black cherry note makes a reappearance, but by that point, the scent is so light that I have to press my nose up to my wrist to smell it, and it was already a scent that stayed close to the skin in the beginning. I don't get any smokiness from the frankincense, so if you're afraid of this being a smoky scent, don't let that singed descriptor deter you from trying this. I think this is really nice, but I wish it were stronger and that the cherry lasted longer. I'm going to pair this with Pa-Pow Hair Gloss and give it a full day slather to see if I get more throw and cherry that way.