Courthouse Wash

In 1980, this ancient rock art was vandalized. The National Park Service cleaned the panel, and restoration work revealed older pictographs beneath the white shields. While the original brilliant pigments are gone forever, their absence provided an opportunity to use new technologies to gather additional information about the panel. In 2008, as part of the Multi-Spectral Imaging Project, the panel was photographed in the infrared spectrum, and a comparison with a regular photograph revealed figures not previously visible to the naked eye. Archeologists are using this exciting information to establish a new baseline from which to monitor change in the panel and analyze the order in which individual elements were painted.

The quest for the elusive Lepracorn continues........

......I wonder what secrets they are guarding....

I am the bad guy because that is a role that must be filled, what's your excuse?

The Message

I've been lying in my room for hours now. It's 5:30 am and there's not much I can do. You know what the worst part of my situation is? I'm in the same room with my parents. They keep looking at me, and I can't help but not look back and try not to cry or scream.

Their eyes are focused on me and their mouths are wide open. There's a strong scent of blood and I feel so paralyzed with fear. Here's the thing. The second I make any hint that I'm not asleep anymore, I'm screwed. I'll die, and there's nobody around to save me. I've been trying to think of a way out, but the only idea I have is to rush for the door, run outside, and scream for help, hoping any neighbors hear me. It's risky, but if I stay here, I'll surely die.

He's waiting for me to wake up and see his masterpiece. You're probably wondering what's going on. I do get ahead of myself sometimes. About three hours ago I heard screaming from the other side of the house. I got up and went to check the noise before I realized I had to use the restroom.

Instead of doing the smart, noble thing and investigating, I used the bathroom first. I could have gotten myself killed right then for my stupid actions. But I actually did my business and took a peek outside the bathroom. There was blood on the carpet. As any other sane human would do, I bolted back to my room, hiding under my sheets like the scaredy I was. I tried to convince myself to go back to sleep, and that this was just some weird, vivid dream or something. But I heard my bedroom door creak open, and like the terrified child I was, I peeked out from under my blankets to see what was going on.

I could see something dragging my parents into the room, obviously dead. It was not human, I can tell you that much. It was hairless, with no eyes and no clothing. It walked like a caveman, with its back slouched as it dragged my dead parents. But this thing was smarter than any caveman.

It propped my father against the edge of the bed, and made him face me. It then sat my mother down in the chair and positioned her towards me as well. Then, it started rubbing it's hands along the walls, staining it with blood, drawing a circle with the devils pentagram in it. This thing had made what it would probably call a masterpiece.

To finish it off, it scrambled a message onto the wall that I could not read in the darkness. It then positioned itself under my bed, waiting to strike. The scariest thing now is, my eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and since then, I can read the message on the wall. I don't want to look at, because it's terrifying to think about, but I feel I need to see before I'm killed.

I peek at the creatures masterpiece.

'I know you're awake.'

The Hisatsinom

An epic journey ........

No-one knows how the police officers find their way back to the exact stadium in which they were born. Yet every year, thousands make this epic journey - battling their way up one-way streets, and through congested city centres - to the very same sporting venue in which they began their lives. They end their journeys exhausted, barely able to complete the final act for which this epic journey was made. It was here that they were born; it is here that they will spawn the next generation of law-enforcers; and it is here that they will end their lives - in the terraces of their ancestral arena, after one of the greatest migrations of the natural world.

jwz

Damn ....this is turning into a rather dreary weekend....

.....Fucking snow......I guess a bottle of Jameson and a half rack of Devastator will have to do....and of course some GINOSAJI vs. GINOSAJI action....

A stroll along the Virgin.......

Hmmmm.....I think I need to spend a bit more time on this ridge......

"And then he spends most of his time by himself – alone." There was horror in Fanny's voice

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Nampaweap

The rock art is all petroglyphs (incised, pecked or etched into the stone) as opposed to pictograph (painted) designs found at other rock art sites. Most of the major prehistoric cultures known to have inhabited this area over the past 10,000 years left symbols on the rocks here. Archaic, Anasazi and Paiute gyphs can all be seen at Nampaweap.

A nice little site.......