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kebechet

Pink Moon is live at BPAL & BPTP!

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Before I get started on anything else…

 

Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett have graciously given us their permission to use Good Omens as a source of inspiration for a line of perfume. Half of the proceeds will go to the CBLDF and the other half will go to the Orangutan Foundation International. All hail Neil and Terry!!! BPAL LOVES NEIL AND TERRY!!!!! We are in the process of finalizing the first burst of scents. We’ll keep you posted!

 

Gleeful, crazy screams of love to Penn Jillette for mentioning us a couple of times on Penn Radio.

 

Thank you! We love you, Penn!

 

Pink Moon is the first full moon of Spring, and, indeed, spring is rearing its flowery head at Black Phoenix. The most adorable Lunacy tee EVAH is live at Black Phoenix Trading Post.

 

pinkmoon-example.gif

 

And, at BPAL, the first LE’s of the season:

 

++ LIMITED EDITION

ARIES

March 21 – April 19

Cardinal fire: the essence of identity.

Black pepper, honeysuckle, opoponax, dragon’s blood, and wild ginger.

 

 

THE IDES OF MARCH 2007

The Ides marked an auspicious time in the Roman calendar. Depending on the month in question, the Ides fell on the thirteenth or fifteenth, and usually marked the Full Moon. As we all know, it was not an auspicious day for Julius Caesar, nor was it fortuitous for H.P. Lovecraft, who also met his maker on this infamous day. Tu quoque, Brute, fili mi! A mixture of springtime greenery and classical Roman cologne: rosemary, bergamot, lemon rind and vervain with costus, benzoin, gray amber, cardamom, white narcissus and iris.

 

 

OSTARA

The Vernal Equinox. Also called Alban Eilir and the Festival of Trees. At this time, we welcome the reawakening of the Earth after winter’s long sleep. Sap flows, flowers bud, the world itself is exuberant, and the vitality of the universe’s life-force is palpable.

 

This is a day of rebirth, but it is also a day of balance. Equal parts masculine and feminine, light and dark, mercy and severity, surrender and contemplation.

 

Our springtime celebratory perfume is crafted with orris root, bergamot, frankincense, daffodil, orange pulp, attar of rose, jonquil, strawberry leaf, benzoin, violet leaf, copal, honey cakes, sweet cream, and the blossoms of springtime.

 

 

PINK MOON

A sweet and silly compliment to the first breath of Spring! Sugared carnation and phlox!

 

 

ROUX-GA-ROUX

Just in time for Lent, cher! A native of Louisiana, this Cajun lycanthrope stalks the swamps, forests, and fields of Acadiana and New Orleans in search of prey. It is believed that if one breaks Lent by failing to give alms, fast, or pray for seven years in a row, she will be God-cursed, and will transform into this snarling beast at every sunset, a slave to her desperate, mindless hunger until dawn.

 

Spanish moss, swamp jessamine, bog water, cypress, hickory wood, lobelia, sweet flag, wisteria, and marsh milkweed.

 

- - -

 

Starting this month, the appropriate zodiacal blend of the month will be live during the time that the Lunacy is live. While we have offered astrological blends in the past, these are new incarnations for 2007.

 

Aries, Roux-Ga-Roux, and Pink Moon will be live until March 7, 2007. The Ides of March and Ostara will be available until March 15, 2007. A gentle reminder: no imp's ears are available for Limited Edition scents.

 

Also this month… thirteen new blends are making their debut in the general catalogue.

 

- - -

 

++ BEWITCHING BREWS

CALICO JACK

Sea air, driftwood, waterlogged kelp, and the memory of plundered spices sprayed over worn leathers, rough musk, and the salty wooden floorboards of the Revenge.

 

 

POISONED APPLE

The queen stepped before her mirror:

 

Mirror, mirror, on the wall,

Who in this land is fairest of all?

 

The mirror answered:

 

You, my queen, are fair; it is true.

But Little Snow-White with the seven dwarfs

Is a thousand times fairer than you.

 

When the queen heard this, she shook and trembled with anger, "Snow-White will die, if it costs me my life!" Then she went into her most secret room -- no one else was allowed inside -- and she made a poisoned, poisoned apple. From the outside it was red and beautiful, and anyone who saw it would want it. Then she disguised herself as a peasant woman, went to the dwarfs' house and knocked on the door.

 

Snow-White peeped out and said, "I'm not allowed to let anyone in. The dwarfs have forbidden it most severely."

 

"If you don't want to, I can't force you," said the peasant woman. "I am selling these apples, and I will give you one to taste."

 

"No, I can't accept anything. The dwarfs don't want me to."

 

"If you are afraid, then I will cut the apple in two and eat half of it. Here, you eat the half with the beautiful red cheek!" Now the apple had been so artfully made that only the red half was poisoned. When Snow-White saw that the peasant woman was eating part of the apple, her desire for it grew stronger, so she finally let the woman hand her the other half through the window. She bit into it, but she barely had the bite in her mouth when she fell to the ground dead.

 

The queen was happy, went home, and asked her mirror:

 

Mirror, mirror, on the wall,

Who in this land is fairest of all?

 

And it answered:

 

You, my queen, are fairest of all.

 

A perfect, lovely, gleaming red apple whose sweetness masks a swirl of narcotic opium, oleander, and hemlock.

 

 

 

++ LOVE POTIONS

BIEN LOIN D’ICI

This is the house, the sacred box,

Where, always draped in languorous frocks,

And always at home if someone knocks,

 

One elbow into the pillow pressed,

She lies, and lazily fans her breast,

While fountains weep their soulfullest:

 

This is the chamber of Dorothy.

— Fountain and breeze for her alone

Sob in that soothing undertone.

Was ever so spoiled a harlot known?

 

With odorous oils and rosemary,

Benzoin and every unguent grown,

Her skin is rubbed most delicately.

— The flowers are faint with ecstasy.

 

The Scarlet Woman, aglow with sensual indolence: red musk, benzoin, caramel accord, golden honey, and spiced Moroccan unguents.

 

 

 

++ MAD TEA PARTY

CROQUET

`Get to your places!' shouted the Queen in a voice of thunder, and people began running about in all directions, tumbling up against each other; however, they got settled down in a minute or two, and the game began. Alice thought she had never seen such a curious croquet-ground in her life; it was all ridges and furrows; the balls were live hedgehogs, the mallets live flamingoes, and the soldiers had to double themselves up and to stand on their hands and feet, to make the arches.

 

The chief difficulty Alice found at first was in managing her flamingo: she succeeded in getting its body tucked away, comfortably enough, under her arm, with its legs hanging down, but generally, just as she had got its neck nicely straightened out, and was going to give the hedgehog a blow with its head, it would twist itself round and look up in her face, with such a puzzled expression that she could not help bursting out laughing: and when she had got its head down, and was going to begin again, it was very provoking to find that the hedgehog had unrolled itself, and was in the act of crawling away: besides all this, there was generally a ridge or furrow in the way wherever she wanted to send the hedgehog to, and, as the doubled-up soldiers were always getting up and walking off to other parts of the ground, Alice soon came to the conclusion that it was a very difficult game indeed.

 

We have some trouble managing our flamingos, too. Pink lime, pink grapefruit, white nectarine, wild rose, sage, woody patchouli, bergamot, and ornery hedgehog musk.

 

 

THE DODO

‘In that case,’ said the Dodo solemnly, rising to its feet, ‘I move that the meeting adjourn, for the immediate adoption of more energetic remedies—’

 

‘Speak English!’ said the Eaglet. ‘I don’t know the meaning of half those long words, and, what’s more, I don’t believe you do either!’ And the Eaglet bent down its head to hide a smile: some of the other birds tittered audibly.

 

‘What I was going to say,’ said the Dodo in an offended tone, ‘was, that the best thing to get us dry would be a Caucus-race.’

 

‘What is a Caucus-race?’ said Alice; not that she wanted much to know, but the Dodo had paused as if it thought that somebody ought to speak, and no one else seemed inclined to say anything.

 

‘Why,’ said the Dodo, ‘the best way to explain it is to do it.’ (And, as you might like to try the thing yourself, some winter day, I will tell you how the Dodo managed it.)

 

First it marked out a race-course, in a sort of circle, (‘the exact shape doesn’t matter,’ it said,) and then all the party were placed along the course, here and there. There was no ‘One, two, three, and away,’ but they began running when they liked, and left off when they liked, so that it was not easy to know when the race was over. However, when they had been running half an hour or so, and were quite dry again, the Dodo suddenly called out ‘The race is over!’ and they all crowded round it, panting, and asking, ‘But who has won?’

 

This question the Dodo could not answer without a great deal of thought, and it sat for a long time with one finger pressed upon its forehead (the position in which you usually see Shakespeare, in the pictures of him), while the rest waited in silence. At last the Dodo said, ‘everybody has won, and all must have prizes.’

 

Red musk, lemon peel, sugar cane, cassia, white sandalwood, mango, and agarwood.

 

 

THE KNAVE OF HEARTS

`Herald, read the accusation!' said the King.

 

On this the White Rabbit blew three blasts on the trumpet, and then unrolled the parchment scroll, and read as follows:--

 

`The Queen of Hearts, she made some

tarts,

All on a summer day:

The Knave of Hearts, he stole

those tarts,

And took them quite away!'

 

Crushed roses and blackcurrant tarts.

 

 

QUEEN ALICE

At this moment the door was flung open, and a shrill voice was heard singing:

 

`To the Looking-Glass world it was Alice that said

"I've a sceptre in hand, I've a crown on my head.

Let the Looking-Glass creatures, whatever they be

Come and dine with the Red Queen, the White Queen, and me!"'

And hundreds of voices joined in the chorus:

`Then fill up the glasses as quick as you can,

And sprinkle the table with buttons and bran:

Put cats in the coffee, and mice in the tea--

And welcome Queen Alice with thirty-times-three!'

 

Then followed a confused noise of cheering, and Alice thought to herself `Thirty times three makes ninety. I wonder if any one's counting?' In a minute there was silence again, and the same shrill voice sang another verse:

 

`"O Looking-Glass creatures," quoth Alice, "draw near!

`Tis an honour to see me, a favour to hear:

`Tis a privilege high to have dinner and tea

Along with the Red Queen, the White Queen, and me!"'

Then came the chorus again:

`Then fill up the glasses with treacle and ink,

Or anything else that is pleasant to drink:

Mix sand with the cider, and wool with the wine--

And welcome Queen Alice with ninety-times-nine!'

 

Carnation, posies, and white amber with a hint of inky treacle, sandy cider, and wooly wine.

 

 

++ WANDERLUST

51

Luminescent, glowing, and otherworldly: green mandarin, neroli, honeydew, white amber, guava, freesia, white and green musks hovering over desert scrub, smashed wood, and the dry, biting scent of night air over the Groom Lake salt flats.

 

 

++ RAPPACCINI’S GARDEN

SQUIRTING CUCUMBER

Yikes! A spurt of wet, grassy greenness.

 

VOODOO LILY

Amorphallus, indeed. A breathtakingly exotic, wild, and grossly erotic spicy gold, purple-black, and burgundy lily.

 

 

 

++ A PICNIC IN ARKHAM

BROWN JENKINS

The yellowed country records containing her testimony and that of her accusers were so damnably suggestive of things beyond human experience - and the descriptions of the darting little furry object which served as her familiar were so painfully realistic despite their incredible details.

 

That object - no larger than a good-sized rat and quaintly called by the townspeople "Brown Jenkins - seemed to have been the fruit of a remarkable case of sympathetic herd-delusion, for in 1692 no less than eleven persons had testified to glimpsing it. There were recent rumours, too, with a baffling and disconcerting amount of agreement. Witnesses said it had long hair and the shape of a rat, but that its sharp-toothed, bearded face was evilly human while its paws were like tiny human hands. It took messages betwixt old Keziah and the devil, and was nursed on the witch's blood, which it sucked like a vampire. Its voice was a kind of loathsome titter, and it could speak all languages. Of all the bizarre monstrosities in Gilman's dreams, nothing filled him with greater panic and nausea than this blasphemous and diminutive hybrid, whose image flitted across his vision in a form a thousandfold more hateful than anything his waking mind had deduced from the ancient records and the modern whispers.

 

A small, furry, sharp-toothed scent that will nuzzle you curiously in the black hours before dawn: dusty white sandalwood and orris root, dry coconut husk, creeping musk, and the residue of ceremonial incense.

 

 

THE DEEP ONES

I think their predominant colour was a greyish-green, though they had white bellies. They were mostly shiny and slippery, but the ridges of their backs were scaly. Their forms vaguely suggested the anthropoid, while their heads were the heads of fish, with prodigious bulging eyes that never closed. At the sides of their necks were palpitating gills, and their long paws were webbed. They hopped irregularly, sometimes on two legs and sometimes on four. I was somehow glad that they had no more than four limbs. Their croaking, baying voices, clearly used for articulate speech, held all the dark shades of expression which their staring faces lacked.

 

Black algae, drooping seaweed, salty brine, and crushed coral.

 

 

HERBERT WEST

Of Herbert West, who was my friend in college and in after life, I can speak only with extreme terror. This terror is not due altogether to the sinister manner of his recent disappearance, but was engendered by the whole nature of his life-work, and first gained its acute form more than seventeen years ago, when we were in the third year of our course at the Miskatonic University Medical School in Arkham. While he was with me, the wonder and diabolism of his experiments fascinated me utterly, and I was his closest companion. Now that he is gone and the spell is broken, the actual fear is greater. Memories and possibilities are ever more hideous than realities.

 

Aftershave, embalming fluid, and splatterings from a panoply of reanimation reagents.

 

- - -

 

There have been some minor changes to the BPAL site. Propaganda, the links page, and the ‘about us’ schpeel have been updated, and (after 4 years of procrastinating) the Funereal Oils category has been renamed.

 

This season promises to be a fruitful one, and we believe that you’re going to enjoy all the sinister, strange, and silly things that the Black Phoenix family is concocting for Spring.

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