Wednesday, February 15, 2006

No pos ya valio madres

Guarded by the Minotaur, who snarls in fury, and encircled within the river Phlegethon, filled with boiling blood, is the Seventh Level of Hell. The violent, the assasins, the tyrants, and the war-mongers lament their pitiless mischiefs in the river, while centaurs armed with bows and arrows shoot those who try to escape their punishment. The stench here is overpowering. This level is also home to the wood of the suicides- stunted and gnarled trees with twisting branches and poisoned fruit. At the time of final judgement, their bodies will hang from their branches. In those branches the Harpies, foul birdlike creatures with human faces, make their nests. Beyond the wood is scorching sand where those who committed violence against God and nature are showered with flakes of fire that rain down against their naked bodies. Blasphemers and sodomites writhe in pain, their tongues more loosed to lamentation, and out of their eyes gushes forth their woe. Usurers, who followed neither nature nor art, also share company in the Seventh Level.

Ahí es donde me van a mandar según el test que tome hoy del infierno de Dante.

Lo único chido es que voy a conocer de que a Genghis Khan.

2 Comments:

At 12:20 AM, Blogger double d said...

pos qué chingados hiciste ferni??? a mí me salió Purgatory, and believe me, I'm no angel.

 
At 2:43 PM, Blogger EscapeGoat said...

Uta fernes, me mandaron al segundo infierno... checa:

The wretched King Minos has decided your fate. His tale wraps around his body 2 times.
The sweet light no longer strikes against your eyes. Your shade has been banished to... the Second Level of Hell!

Second Level of Hell

You have come to a place mute of all light, where the wind bellows as the sea does in a tempest. This is the realm where the lustful spend eternity. Here, sinners are blown around endlessly by the unforgiving winds of unquenchable desire as punishment for their transgressions. The infernal hurricane that never rests hurtles the spirits onward in its rapine, whirling them round, and smiting, it molests them. You have betrayed reason at the behest of your appetite for pleasure, and so here you are doomed to remain. Cleopatra and Helen of Troy are two that share in your fate.

 

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