Completely Futile

TWO LINKS: J. K. ROWLING MEETS T. S. ELIOT, AND CREEPY BRILLIANCE

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince redone in the form and style of "The Waste Land." They do the whole poem, but here’s a sample:

What are the plot-threads that clutch, what subplots grow
Out of this pulpy rubbish? Son of James,         20
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
Your third-person limited perspective, where your adverbs breed,
And the caps lock gives no shelter, the chapter no relief,
And the seventh book no sign of surcease. Only
There is a horcrux inside this dark cave,         25
(Come into the waters of this dark cave),
And I will show you something different from either
Your battles fought previous where someone did help you
Or your battles to come which you must face alone;
I will show you fear in a cupful of juice.         30
                Frisch weht der Plot
                Der Bookshelves zu.
                Mein Chosen Kind,
                Wo whinest du?
"You gave me the prophecy first a year ago;         35
They called me the Chosen One."
—Yet when we came back, late, from the TriWizard Tournament,
Your wand out, and your eyes wild, I could not
Speak, and my spells failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,         40
Looking into the champion of Light, the silence.
Oed' und leer das Seer.

(via Making Light)

On The TCJ Message Board, Benjamin D. Brucke posts a story from a 1970s Creepy with absolutely amazing, very European-looking black-and-white art by Carmine Infantino and Alex Toth. (Note: this thread really won’t be around forever.)