This, dear readers, is the Wreath of Judgement. I, after regaining my sanity, went on a crusade to the North Pole Facility. I broke in with my team of robot drones, and got away with this wreath. This wreath, dear readers, is what Santa Claus uses to judge all the children of the world. It was forged in the fires of Öræfajökull before time began, by the mighty warrior Klauz. It sees into the souls of all children on Earth, monitoring the morality of them all. This, dear readers, is what tells if a child is naughty or nice.

After forging the Wreath, Klauz took it to the north pole, and began establishing a workshop there. After the great purge of fairies from Ireland, Klauz offered them a sanctuary. They called him Santahk ("saviour") and signed an eternal work contract in gratitude. Since then, Sa

PUBLISHER'S NOTE: Unfortunately, dear readers, this will be the last post this blog will ever see. Shortly after writing the previous paragraph, Santa Claus arrived at the author's house with the intent of recovering the Wreath and taking revenge for the elves murdered during the break-in. Our dear author grabbed his thermocatalytic badger and began returning fire on the sleigh, but it was not enough. He fought nobly, he fought well, and we shall never forget him.

R.I.P. Séamas

1996-2012

Gunned down by Santa Claus.

This card is the Maniacal Joker of Infinite Gibbering Madness. It is said that all whose lives this card enters will be cursed with ma̷d̢n̴ess̛ ̛èterna̵l̸. Fortunately, I exploited another and tricked them into acquiring the card and taking this photograph. I am entirely safe from harm.

The card was first seen in ancient France. It caused the BaEcAcUuTrIsFeUdL mad BpLlEaSgSuIeNG after a magician used in his magic trick. It's a gboaodd thing the magician was an amature with no true magic wand, otherwise the madness could have spread throughout the cosmos through contact with the Yggdrasil.

After the mad plague had passed, the card was aquired by a wizard of dubious character who began to

e͟͟x̡̀͝p̡͏̡er͢i͢͡m̕é̷n̸t̵ on humans using the card <most amusing>. Of course, the card soon drove him round the bend (implying that he wasn't already) and he decided to blow up his tower with a thermonuclear hex. Of course, since there's no such thing as a stable thermonuclear hex, he merely succeeded in deshatroyhaing evhaery atoham of hhais beinhag.
In the year 0.473AD, the card resurfaced in Luxē͔̈́̓̔͗̇m̷̖̼̞̯̻̻̐͌̓̓͊̽b̪͈̯̂͛̇o̘̯͔̺ͪ̔ͪ̋urg. It resulted in the mass suicide of a thousand dancing, behatted, monkey wielding swordsmen. The card kinda has a wonderfularped sense of humour. Later, it made a woman think she was of the molepeople. She tried to reclaim her ances͇͕̝̖̻̞͚̣̊͑̈́ͩ̿ṯ̖̝̾ͩͪͫ̏ṝ̣͇̳ͮ̔̑̎ͨ͛͊͊ả̗̙͙̬̙̮̳͕́ͣ͗ͩͧͩl̹͆ ̮͇̺̪͍̄ͪ̐l̻̻̗̲ͨ̀̂e̞͇̘͓̠̿ͪ̄̿͆̽̽ͭ͆g͚̦̽ͨ̐a͍̘ͯ͊͊̑c̖̹ͤ̿y̗͎̤̪͒ͤ̌ͩ ͖͍͈̙̰̭͐ͩͬ̓̔̈́̽͑ͅand sought out the great drill of K'ktkv'kqt'knq'vvtnk'ttnq, but was never heard from again. Her story is known through the journal she kept, and scholars have long debated whether she starved to death on a futile quest, was slaughtered by the dhriill'ls saercuiritoy suystesms, or waits below us to this day, ready to end the human age.
The next confirmed possessor of the c̠̠͒̐ͦ͟a̷̵̫͓̝̘̝ͥͥ̿́r͖̪ͨ̅̐̉͐ͦḍ̠̰̗̈́̾ͭ is Ludwig II of Bavaria. It seemed to make him think he came from the planet Krypfairytalelandon, from which he was evacuated as a baby. He tried to recreate his supposed home, bringing ruin to his country's finances in the process. oF COURSE, the funny part of the story is when HA the HA extravagent HA castles HA he HA built HA became HA a HA tourist HA attraction HA and HA brought HA wealth HA to HA the HA country. Of course, Ludwig was brutally murdered long before this happened. H̢̻͔̖̳̘̭̰͕̝̱̰͙͖̐ͪ̓̈́̀̈́̓̾ͅͅA̧̛̒̅̋̍ͪ͆ͪ̀͏̤̜̪͙̘̬̱̣̦̳͈̞͎̭̥͕̗.̨̟͙̬̳̩̠̞̰͉̬̲͇̫̳̄̒̊ͩ̉̆ͦ̾ͣ̃̀͢ ̛̛͈͖̘̻̦̞̭͍͎̰̹̫͇͈̘̯̆͂̊̉̓̀̀͡ͅ

PErhaps in different circumstances, i would not need to SAY THIS but now i must inform you THAT I WILL BE REGAINING MY sanity in time for n e x t w e e k. NEXT POST, S͇̩̥̥̘̥̠̫͓͖ͫ̇͌ͧ̊̓ͯͦ̽̉̇͐̚͜͞Oͧͥ͊ͮ̉ͫͨͬ͌̽͋̆ͣ̚̚͡҉͇̠̤͓M̴̠͙̫͔̰̘͕͖̯͉̗̪̩̜ͩͭͨ̈͐̾͊̊ͣͥE̸ͯ̐̅̑͋̓ͫͭ̂ͯ̇ͬ̅҉̗͇̖̙̘̳̺͙̫̘̠͈ͅÔ̸̧̬͉̱̺̭̊͊ͨͦ͌̕N̸͔̥͖̖̩͇̈́ͮͫ̍̾̃̈́ͥ͒̽̇̔̌̋̂̔͊ͧ͆͡E̢̛̫̲̙̬̗̙̳̣͎ͦ͐̓̾ͣ ̷̨͛̔̔̽ͬ̆̓̓̓́̽̎ͭ͆͐͡͏͈̣̝͚͚̲Dͯ̾̈ͭͣ̉̃̇ͬͪͣ̿̀͠҉̪̞̠̠̺̣̞̩̰͓̘͕͙͟͟ͅÍ͍̹͓̝͚̇̃̆ͦͤͧ̊̎̈̓̀̚͟͟E̶̳̤͈̮ͣ͗ͬ̚̕Š̶̪̦̹̯̺͚͓͕͖̲̟̼̖̔ͯͬ̽̎̽ͩ̇̾ͫ̀
.

This drink here is the Elixir of the Dawn Sky. Disgusting as it looks, it supposedly grants the drinker the luck of a thousand leprechauns, spectacular charisma, and their heart's greatest desire. Also, you can fly. Because sky and all that.
All known draughts of the Elixir were brewed in ancient Tajikistan some 3000 years ago by the Great Wise Masters of the Hypercube. It is generally accepted that the luck in the Elixir comes from the vast quantities of leprechaun blood used to make it. The Wise Masters obtained this blood via trading with the molepeople, which forever scarred them as traitors in humanity's eyes. When they stole a really nice looking dawn in order to complete the drink, the rest of humanity got so pissed off they stormed up the mountain to where the Masters were camped and killed every last one they found.
One Master managed to escape with a keg of the Elixir, however it had not been brewed long enough, and its powers were weaker than the desired result. They had intended to use the Elixir to make themselves gods, ruling over humanity and maybe finding out what hypercubes actually were, but the batch produced only had the properties I stated at the start. This was obviously a huge letdown to the Master with the who escaped oh who am I kidding he spent the rest of his life flying.
Since the Master left the keg in a cave in his cult's mountain, rumours of its history have been wild. Some say it was found by Julius Caesar, some by Genghis Khan. I, for one, have never heard of any of them flying. I personally believe some unknown merchant found it on their travels and brought it home. I'd guess no one actually had a shot of it, except maybe some carpenter's kid.
Since this was exceedingly hard to track throughout history, I could well be the third person in history to taste this drink. To greatness!

PUBLISHER'S NOTE: The author is currently in hospital, though regular service should resume next week. Apparently drinking 3000 year old elixirs is bad for you. Who knew?

Sitting here on my desk is the key to Ireland. It is to be used in the event of the apocalypse to close the country after everyone is gone. It was created during the 1950s when De Valera received a report entitled "Coping Ability of the Republic of Ireland in an End of the World Event". Dev dismissed the report, as he believed that all good citizens would go to heaven, and the rest be damned. However the report fell into the hands of several TDs who knew the importance of good extinction etiquette. They were determined that when Ireland went, it would be tidy and locked up so no one could damage it before the new owners arrived. They commissioned this key to achieve these ends. When this is turned in the national lock at Mizen Head, a 3 metre high wall will extend from the ground and close Ireland off from the rest of the world.
Situated next to the national lock is the bell to summon the cleaners. When the key and all associated projects were constructed, a cleaning team was mummified and a curse placed on their tomb. When the bell is rung, they will rise from the dead and begin the process of tidying the country for any future tenants.
Since the 1950s, the key has been in the possession of the official Badass of Ireland. Only this person is considered able, when the sky falls and fire consumes the land, to make the journey to Mizen Head and lock the country behind them. This person is always a heretic and debaucherous sinner, to ensure that they are not raptured into heaven before their journey is complete. Although no Badass would ever allow the key to be stolen without terrible vengeance being wreaked upon the thieves, the current holder of the title is willing to rent it out in return for Oreos.
Okay, he's currently staring into my window. I think my time with the key is up. I shall return next week with an article about whatever the hell I think up in the meantime. Adios, and don't let monsters kill you on the train.

This simple twig is nothing of the sort. This stick was taken from the Yggdrasil itself, and I estimate its severing caused the destruction of at least three galaxies. I don't really care, I didn't know anyone in them.

First, a brief lesson on the Yggdrasil. The Vikings considered it a "World Tree", but in truth it is more of universe tree. Likely some drunken Norseman caught a glimpse of a branch and thought it was the whole thing. Anyway, contained within the tree is the entire universe, which at the same time makes up the tree, like a container containing itself. It's kinda confusing.

A war was fought between the molepeople and humans for the Yggdrasil sometime in the second millenium B.C.E. During the fighting, a couple of arrows stuck the Yggdrasil, causing mass genocide via exploding galaxies. Eventually, the humans drove the molepeople back into their underground caverns, and claimed the tree for their own. Both sides had good reason to want the tree; for no magic wand can be made without wood from its branches.

And now you know the terrible secret behind magicians, for every rabbit from a hat, every woman sawed in half, is payed for many times over by the death of billions as their homes are ripped from the great tree's bark. Some might call me a hypocrite for taking wood myself, but I am not using this wood for cheap tricks, I am using it for SCIENCE!

Well, my wordcount's still pretty low, and I have nearly half an hour left. I might as well tell you how I got this twig. After writing about the magicascope, I left my home for the woods. There, I called upon my spirit animal, a Deinonychus, and he led me deep within the forest. I took out my divining rod, and walked for days until I found the saphire staircase. I took out my sledgehammer and held the stairway to ransom until Magic Tom agreed to show the tree. Then, I ripped off a branch and went home.  :D

I mentioned this object much earlier, and I think it's finally time to write about it. This is my magicascope, which I used to scan a cookie in a previous article, and this week I shall explain to you its origin, its purpose, and how it works.

I'm going to be honest here, this isn't an ancient artifact. I got it from Lidl in the sorcery aisle. However, I feel that it is worth talking about the invention of these wonderous devices. The basic technology was invented by the Inca, about twenty years before they were conquered by the Spanish. The earliest magicascopes were stone rings with heavily enchanted obsidian in the middle; by the glowing of the obsidian, the wielder could make a rough guess as to the strength of an item's aura.

After the Spanish conquered the Inca, they stole all of the magicascopes. Seriously, they took every single one; you can't say they weren't dedicated. The Spanish Inquisition (in their nice red uniforms) decided that the devices were witchcraft, and promptly used them to scan and convict hundreds of witches. Of course, as all true witches just flew away from the inquisition, it can be assumed that they were godawful at using the 'scopes.

You've probably noticed that the Inca device I described looks absolutely nothing like the photograph. This is because European alchemists began refining the device the make their experiments more accurate. As a result, I believe quite a few alchemists discovered the secret of the Philosopher's Stone. However, like many others, I subscribe to the theory that discovering the secret of the stone caused them to be retconned out of existence, making the entire field of alchemy look like a joke.

The purpose of a magicascope is to measure the aura of whatever object it is pointed at. The glass will turn a certain shade, at which point thaumological litmus paper is applied and compared to a scale. The average value of a non-magical object is forty two thaums. Higher values indicate a strong magical presence, while lower values indicate corrupted objects. A value of zero means that an object has absolutely no aura (a.k.a. soul), like a squid.

I should probably add that magnets mess these things up completely. I have no idea how that works.

This is a pair of Chrono-Duality Spectro Goggles. They are an essential tool for ghost hunters, time travellers, and 3D moviegoers, due to their ghost detecting properties, ability to see through time, and red and cyan lenses, respectively.
I aquired this pair from a time traveller that tried to kill me yesterday. Something about an evil overlord, probably not important. After checking that the plasma burns did not damage the goggles, I immediately began testing their abilities. My magicascope showed they had no aura, and due their exceptional property of being from the future, I assume they work using super nano technology.
When I tried them on, the first thing I noticed was the starving young girl I could now see in front of me. Apparently, she had been sealed below the floor of my house as a sacrifice to the railway gods, with the intention of making the trains run on time. We conversed a bit, but unfortunately I learned nothing of note. Probably due to all her hideous wailing.
Next, I tested the goggles' dual-chronological nature. I peered back one hundred and thirty years to when the unfortunate girl met her fate. People wore funny hats back then. As much as I would have liked to look back to when dinosaurs walked the Earth, at that length of time in difference I would have had to take into account continental drift, and that would just have been annoying. I mean seriously. Why can't countries just stay in the same place?
Finally, I tested their ability to watch a movie in 3D. I managed to find a good movie with Anaglyph 3D edited in (no easy task). Unfortunately, the two lenses were not in temporal sync. I will never watch Reservoir Dogs the same way again.

Unfortunately, I have no seemingly mundane object on which I can examine this week. However, earlier in the week I had the good fortune to visit the Ulster Folk and Transport Museum. Tedious though it was, I managed to stay awake long enough to break into the restricted area, which I managed to get away from with this glorious photograph.

This, dear readers, is the alien spacecraft which crashed near Tandragee, Northern Ireland in 1968, the craft which Stormont has being denying the existence of for over forty years. Today, I will expose the conspiracy that has been hiding the truth for so long.
To my knowlege, this spacecraft, often named after the crash site, was the first U.F.O. obtained by Stormont. Shortly after the crash, it was decided to store the craft in a sub basement in the Transport Museum, which at the time was relatively new. This sub basement was later expanded in the government's campaign to pull the wool over the public eyes.
Over the next thirty years, the government ran a large scale project to extract the alien technology from the craft. Many have investigated the purpose of this research, and the unanimous conclusion was that they, like the US government, intended to use this technology to oppress the populace and take away their freedom. No one's quite sure of the specifics, or how it would work at all, but all are agreed about the general purpose.
However, by the turn of the milennium, Stormont decided that the Tandragee craft was a dead end. They had already torn the craft apart in their lust for power, and desecrated the remains of the wise aliens who died in impact. Milennia ago, these noble beings granted us the gift of knowledge, and now we dissect their corpses in our unbridled desire for power. Anyway, other U.FO.s had crashed during this period, and Stormont decided that Tandragee was to be put into storage. Because of this, it actually had a lower guard than spacecraft being actively dissassembled, allowing me to obtain this photograph.
Now that I have summarised the Northern Irish Government's cover up of extraterrestrial life, the choice is yours; remain a sheep or wake up and know the truth. If you choose the latter, make sure to read up on the subject, and stay strong, for now the goverment will set the sheeple against you. Remember, you are not alone, and the truth shall be known.

 This artifact is typically known as the Puzzle Cube of Yrath'loria; it is an ancient device said to have the power to end the universe. But Séamas, I hear you ask, if it's so ancient and powerful then why is it made of cheap plastic? More likely, you called me a ****ing  noob who was wasting your oh so valuable time and left immediately, but I don't need to address you, because you're gone now. I can even insult you. You unlikable person.

Anyway, back to the sophisticated, charming, and sagacious people who chose to continue reading. The answer is that the Puzzle Cube was made in the future and travels backwards in time, like Merlin in that TV show. I think it was a TV show, anyway. I should probably look it up, but stress.

As the cube is supposed to destroy the universe, there is much debate as to how it was (will be?) created. A popular theory is simply that it never does so, and some amazing future technology is responsible for its temporal dislocation. The competing theory states that the cube was actually created by the end of the universe, the force of which launched in backwards in time. Both of these theories state that the cube broke while in ancient Eygpt, but a variation of the second theory believes the cube went beyond the beginning of the universe to end up at the end again. In case anyone is confused, here's a diagram.





Damn, JPEGs are amazing. They really compliment my artistic talent.

Anyway, now that you know about the cube's temporal prowess, you can forget about it for the rest of this article. The first recorded instance of the cube in history was in ancient Egypt, hence why some believe it broke there. One day Egyptians were sitting around Egyptianing when this cube just showed up out of nowhere. Because they had absolutely no idea where the hell this cube was made of, they took it to their local priest. The priest gave it to his superiors, who passed it to their superiors, until it ended up in the hands of Ramses II, also known as Ramses the Great.

When Ramses received the cube, he washed in in dragon oil and tapped it with a dinosaur toenail clipping based rock. Nobody knows what he dreamt of that night, but whatever it was, it was no doubt important. Ramses went on to win several wars, gaining territory for Egypt and driving the molepeople out of the region forever. However, what not many people know is that to ensure the cube was brought to its ultimate destination, Ramses founded a secret society - the golf caddies.
Those of you well versed in sports history might currently be scratching your heads, as you know golf was invented in England in 628 C.E. when someone decided life was too exciting. Originally, the caddies worked in a similar Egyptian sport by the name of dolf. It was basically like golf, except it was all bunkers. Since the caddies were founded, the cube has only appeared in history where they wished it to, and it is only by their grace that it currently sits on my desk. I would like to thank this moment to thank them for their generousity and pray that I am not to be classed as a loose end in times to come.
The caddies have a very good reason for all their secrecy. If the cube is ever assembled on a full moon, then its universe destroying potential will be unleashed. Currently, it's a little more than a week until full moon, so all I have to do is remember to take it apart before then, and everything should be fine.
Given my memory, I'd say we're doomed.

This cookie was baked long ago in the Qin Dynasty in ancient China. Though the recipe has been lost to the sands of time, historians know that this type of cookie was baked exclusively for those the emperor wished to honour. By examining historical records I have determined that this cookie's delivery was interupted by a viking raid, who would have brought it back to native Scandinavia as a gift to Odin.

Based on the fact that this cookie is decidedly unconsumed, Odin did not like it. As punishment, he would have thrown the vikings that gave it to him into space to die horribly. The descendants of the leader of the raid would then have been tasked to kill someone using the cookie or be condemned to Hel, the boring Viking version of Hell.

After examining this biscuit thoroughly with my magicascope, I can tell it was not in Ireland during the fairy occupation due to the lack of any aura. 

 

My totally geniune magicascope.

I assume it was brought over during a raid on a monastery, as the cookie shows signs of burning, likely caused by a monk's holy fireball attack. Presumably, the wielder of the cookie was killed by said fireball and the cookie, lost. As the cookie was retrieved by the native Irish, the raid leader's descendants still suffer from Odin's curse. SUCKS TO BE THEM.

Fortunately, it seems that this cookie was untouched during the great Patrick-Snake war of 475. It would have been a shame if St. Patrick's orbital cannons were pointed at wherever this marvellous biscuit was at the time. I suspect some Celtic king took a liking to the cookie, and kept it safe during the bombardment.

For the next millenium or so, this cookie would pass from owner to owner, with nothing particularily interesting happening to it. Its next high point in history was during the Ulster Plantation. Irish bandits who had been driven off their land held it up as a symbol of the good old days when attacking Protestant settlers. These bandits were of course wiped out when Oliver Cromwell sunk a significant portion of Ireland, and the cookie would then come into the possession of a wealthy English landowner. I noticed what might have been teeth marks on the cookie, so I assume a landowner nibbled on it in front of their tennants during the Great Famine.

Since the middle of the nineteenth century, this cookie has resided in a box in a house in Connemara. A few weeks ago, I liberated it with the help of a professional "retriever of valuable items" and began my research into its past, which you have just read.

I then took a bite. It was awful.

This rock was formed nearly eleventy million years ago, when dinosaur toenail clippings were put under great heat and pressure. This would have occured in volcanoes, which then launched the rocks into the stratosphere during eruptions. The heat from the descent would purify the rocks, and when they landed cavemen and molepeople would compete furiously for them due to their religious significance.

After the extinction of the molepeople in the seventh century B.C.E., all rocks like this would have fallen into human possesion. From the unique patterns on this rock I can tell it spent at least several hundred years in Egypt. It is a little known fact that the ancient Egyptians used dinosaur tonail clipping based rocks to help in the construction of the pyramids by summoning aliens. The Pharaohs also used them to call up the waters of Nile, but they sadly never realised that the rocks were useless and the power was inside them all along.

After the Roman conquest of Egypt (largely caused by the Pharaohs never realising their true potential), this stone was presumably captured and brought back to Rome in chains. Some of the wealthiest Romans would eat stones of this type, usually served with dodo meat.
Eventually, some Roman general might have brought this stone to Britain during the conquest of the island. After consumption, the stone would have been thrown into the sea, along with some soldier the general didn't like, as an offering to Poseidon. Now, the stone was it a posion to wash up on the shores of Ireland, which was then known as Leprechaun Island.

At the time, Ireland was completely under fairy dominion. The most famous kind of fairy were the leprechauns, though there were many others. Although the people of Ireland had slaved away for many centuries, these rocks ushered in a new age when it was discovered that the fairies had one weakness - dinosaurs.

When the dust of the revolution had settled, the people of Ireland had to decide what to do with the rocks of their salvation. Eventually, it was decided to spread them across the island, so the dinosaur gumption contained within them would make Ireland inhospitable for all fairies. This plan worked, and Ireland has been free of the fae since 362 C.E. In all this time, the rocks have stayed on the island, keeping us safe from the fairy menace until the end of time.