sardonic / theme

Beyond sarcasm lies the sardonic, last refuge of the recalcitrant cynic, where the most intellectual of ironies may be freely and thoroughly enjoyed. The associated pleasures include indulgence in mockery and derision, skepticism, and the exercise of wit. Whereas the cheap shot is merely sarcastic, the sardonic delivers the measured and cutting blow with tried and tempered steel.

Themes represent basic categories of thought, emotion, or value. While our assignment of themes may at times seem arbitrary or whimsical, they serve to link together artists and movements along non- hierarchial pathways. Follow the themes to look for new disciplines that share qualities with those you already like, or to open up new worlds of Art and Culture.

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Ebony Black and Ivory White: The Trial of the Knights

A beast trudges down a passage, judging eyes, always watching, Thrust into an enclosure no bigger than the cage that held Icarus, Spewing foul acid from its mouth, the odor killing all in its vicinity, Following in its wake a guardian, sturdier than any Corinthian ever was, The weight of the beast supported by its companion, Startled by a fiend the two flee, back through the tunnel of judgmental eyes, As if passing through the nine circles, all with judging eyes, A path that seemed to follow that of Rome’s greatest poets and his follower, Into the glory of Lord Helios the two figures emerge, Stumbling they begin the arduous journey in the vain hopes of finding rest, A sight in the distance, however faint, provides hope to the pair, A path across desolate gray earth, dead………………., Land devoid of any vegetation, ghouls and undead swarm around the valiant knights, Their path a trial from above, one to rival even those of Herakles’, Time flows into one, their journeys end beyond Man’s comprehension, The land spins, swirls, moulds itself into gray, speckled by the red eyes of the undead, An end, for the weary, over yonder is paradise, salvation, land of the gods, Rest for the two, a …….., an attempt to find shelter a success, the glory of Helios now a curse, Doubled over, the hellish figure clothed in black, only the hint of white upon its breast, Beside it the angel in white, hands formed after the image of Gabriel himself, Foul maroon liquid flows freely from the ebony wraiths lips, His bent over form taking on the shape of some vile Empusa, dung and bronze his limbs, His moans echo around the path of all those that pass by, A goddess in human skin, a compassionate look upon her face, From her an offering to the gallant heroes, the brew sweet and fresh, The bent over figure shows little gratitude, the illness of fermented grapes too strong, Strengthened by the goddesses own concoction the two figures stumble towards redemption, The moans of the stricken figure echoes as they disappear towards hope, This, the tale of the shadow and the light. FIN