Images, Sounds & other oddments of multimedia

Mariner's stimuli to indulge the senses.

In this area of our page you'll find everything from music videos, songwriting commentary, behind the scenes footage & photos of the crew doing what we do best.

A tribute to my London based Hindustani teacher.

Many years ago one of my bosses at my daytime gig took vacation in his home country (southern India).  Knowing I was a fanatic about music he broght me back a CD that had such celebrated artists as Anouska Shankar, Susheela Raman, and Sheila Chandra.  I knew of Anoushka through her father Ravi, and her sister Norah, Jones.  But I'd never heard of the other two.  Man, was I ever in for a treat!  Susheela has a voice very much like Sade & every bit as sultry.  And Sheila stole my heart with her "Ever so lonely".  I knew contacting Susheela was out of the question because her & her husband tour incessantly.  But Sheila is retired as a practicing musician & is instead a music career coach & book author.  I contacted her for resources on how to learn & play Hindustani classical music.  I had little expectation that she'd email me back, but much to my shock surprise, we kept in contact for over a year.  She finally stopped answering because even as a coach & author, there's only so much time in the day.  And us Americans have a tendency to be long winded, often to a fault.  It's all good & I appreciate the time she was able to devote.  I learned about Shruti's and Ragas, and how nearly all Hindustani songs revolve around drone notes & the percussion is nothing like that of western music.  I still to this day cannot write a Raga that does the genre justice.  But what I did do is write an instrumental that pays tribute to the wisdom she shared with me.  It's a mixture of Western folk & Hindustani Ragas called "Shaanti Ka Hara Bartan" (the Green Vessel of Tranquility).  The true meaning of the song will forever & always be between the two of us, but I'll share the song with you.  I'm especially proud of it (even with it's percussion mistakes) because its the culmination of all my curiosities into their genre.  It was meant as an homage & in no way a mockery or disrespect.  Without further adieu...

Shaanti Ka Hara Bartan.

ShaantiKaHaraBartan.mp3

Clayshire Castle & the courtly folk therein.

 Two years ago Capt Farias and I attended the Clayshire Castle renaissance festival with the expectation that some of our work buds would get into the spirit and join us (think Jim Carey's work buds in "Yes-man"), but they didn't.  So we said WTF and went anyway.  It was scorchingly hot, but we gutted it out to watch the better part of the shows.  It was part Debaucherous show content research, and part festive & I'd recommend it to anyone who loves old world culture.  Not to mention, I've never seen so many ospiciously displayed bosoms in my life.  Corsets & all...  I'll be attending next year.

Combat drills on the Castle grounds.

Captain Farias brushing up her archery skills.

We'll have more on here very shortly.  I'm just not one for immortalizing the moment in film very often, but I'm working on that part.

The show when it was named "Necrovision".

I will say up front that what you see posted below is rather dated & what I produced under our old show's title.  Necrovision's works will be published early 2026, posthumously as a tribute to all those that participated.  But we've drawn that line in the sand & are looking at tomorrow.

Song lyrics to Necrovision's "Effigy" EP.  To be released March of 2026 posthumously.

Effigy

Copyright: Poor Pirate Entertainment 2025.  Written by le Marquis de Ceas'd 1997.

This story is about two wealthy nobles who thought their courtly positions & opulent wealth placed them above the commoners.  Out of boredom the two friends engaged themselves in a contest to see who could out-do the other with criminal deeds against unsuspecting victims.  It started out petty enough, pick-pocketing, stealing a chicken or goat, or sending a hired conspirator dressed in courtly clothes to collect taxes.  But the younger nobleman began deriving a particluar fancy for inflicting pain & suffering upon his victims, deflowering them in ways the village brothel would be abhored to accomodate, and torturing hapless victims to death in slow, sadistic fashion.  The older nobleman conceded "Alright, you win. That's quite enough nonsense & you'd best evanese back into your boring itenerary, lest your neck wind up in the gallows".  But his friend experienced such an adrenaline rush & erotic stimulation from his deeds, he was inextricably addicted to the violence.  Before long, a nameless fear brewed in the neighboring villiages & the magistrates were on the hunt.  A few months later the older gentlemen began sniffing the signs of a blackmail scheme, a shoddy concealed arrangement to usurp his title, and a murder for hire.  But an old charleton knows a plot when he sees it & set up his own strategic plan to catch the defiler in the act.  It was all too easy to place the city's arbitrary indiscretions on the man with a penchant for reckless debauchery, subpoena his victims & paint him as a pariah.  In the end, the old nobleman rather enjoyed the sight of his overzealous friend burning at the stake.  The satisfaction of knowing that such reckless abandon ultimately leads to self destruction made him laugh. Better the devil you know. 

You threw us to the wolves with no regrets

And rubbed our faces in the thorns.

Too many crimes committed to confess

The time has come, now you’ll get yours.

Watching, waiting, salivating.

Plotting, scheming, evil dreaming.

You don’t know from which way we will come.

If things don’t go your way, you make them fit.

And kill the ones that don’t conform.

Slowly eradicate us, bit by bit.

A conqueror since you were born.

Watching, waiting, salivating.

Plotting, scheming, evil dreaming.

You don’t know from which way we will come.

Singeing, burning, wheels are turning.

Build a fire, raise it higher.

Effigy is what you have become!

Why did you cheat & defile me.

I would have been a worthy friend.

Now things have changed, your fate belongs to me.

Your ass is mine now in the end.

Guitar Solo.

I kept your fingers just for old times sake.

All black & cold, so badly charred.

You saw me smile as you burned at the stake.

Those screams of pain still get me hard.

Watching, waiting, salivating.

Plotting, scheming, evil dreaming.

You don’t know from which way we will come.

Singeing, burning, wheels are turning.

Build a fire, raise it higher.

Curse of the Krakass

Copyright: Poor Pirate Entertainment 2016.  Written by le Marquis de Ceas'd 2008.

One must sail aboard ship for long journeys to understand this one.  When one man errors in his ways, the whole crew pays the consequences in one way or another & more often than not, they encourage his eventual redemption.  One of our former captains used to get into so much carnal mischief when we made port, it left us with epic tales we'd laugh about for years.  Romantic interludes gone awry.  Like the time he shagged a lady that had just finished riding horseback & the stench of stallion sweat was wafting up in a pungent fume.  Any sane man would've been deterred.  The problem is, such foulness didn't dissuade him & the bacterial consequences would become all too apparent.  Grounds for a good laugh, of course.  But when our fearless leader ghosts Posdeidon's daughter after a night of coital bliss, the wrath of her retribution spread far & wide.  Revenge cares not for collateral damage & the retched curse cast a dark, devastating cloud over us all.  To stem the tide of vengeful storms, we enthusiastically urged him to make amends so we could go on about our journey.  Our pleads were never about restoring honor, questioning ones morals or bending the knee in apology.  Getting back to the status quo & equilibrium was what's best for the ship.

I once knew a sailor, sailed the seven seas

Then one day, he met with catastrophe

Siren delight, they made love all night

But when she woke, he’d long left the scene

She fled to Poseidon, Crowned king of the sea

Pronounced a curse, a fate, a prophecy

From this day forth, no love shall you receive

Unleash my wrath til you beg before me

A mighty beast, a butt, of monstrous size

Waylaid our ship, and farted on all inside

Dreadlocks of dung, nearly crushed everyone

We kicked up the sails, and prepared to flee

The Captain consoled his grief, with a serving wench

Parted her legs, then out came an awful stench

There’s no relief, for this thirst that he cannot quench

Curse of the KrackAss, just won’t give an inch.

Oooh, ohhh,… oooh. Brown eye beast.

Oooh, oooh,… Shipmates are now deceased

Oooh, oooh,… oooh. Pay the price

Oooh, oooh,… He must kiss ass tonight

Guitar/Keyboard Solo

A week left adrift, on a boat, of muscle shells

Eyes always peeled, my nose searched for funky smells

The butt took our ship, and now here we sit

As for the Cap, he’s not looking too well

We rowed our long boat to the reef, where he met his love

Spat on the deck, stowed the oars & took off our gloves

Told him he’d best bend a knee, beg the gods above

Spare us his curse that we’re all suffering of

The King of the deep, he appeared, like an awful storm

Said that he’d spare us his wrath & his daughter’s scorn

Don’t you come searching for love, not out here no more

We simply smiled, set our course for next port.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Chase the Dragon
Copyright: Poor Pirate Entertainment 2015.  Written by le Marquis de Ceas'd 2005 .

No matter the choice of poison, overindulgence never leads to a happy ending.  Whether it be the intoxicating smoke of the opium poppy, the bittersweet zing of the Coca leaf, or the opalescent, hypnotic swirling of the Absithe glass, cautious interest always & ever gives way to wanton abandon when it's in abundance.  This tune is a biographic tale about a man who was tempted by such things.  He gradually began losing the facets of personality that made him admired, unique and worthwhile.  Slipping deeper into paranoia, addiction, and the ever present craving for "more".  A living-dead thing that's akin to a vampire, forsaking sustenance & sunlight.  Bartering his worldly possessions for one more taste of the snake's venom that bit him.  In the end he's a reviled, retched & putrid creature that sucks the lifeblood from all he touches, all in the name of his masochistic affliction.  Destined to disappear into relative obscurity under a rock.  Shun him until he's given up feeding the lie.  You cannot help him until.

I feel the darkness coming

to take me down again.

Depressions, all consuming

Defenseless til the end.

 

Break on out those happy pills

I don’t have time to chase cheap thrills.

Chop a line & fuck the bills

Again.

 

I’ve covered up my windows

And don’t dare touch the phone.

I’ve turned out all the lights

But it won’t leave me alone.

 

Chase my dragon, he’ll be back

I’m still hooked on Meth and Crack.

Heroine’s left me some tracks

And then.

 

It’s coming, after me.

Running, can’t you see.

We’re jones’ing, it’s eating me.

I think I’m gonna lose my mind.

 

Crawling, on my skin.

Gnawing, way too thin.

Yawning, sickly grin.

Swear I’m gonna die this time.

 

Solo

 

Five days without no sleep and

Too high to go to bed.

Last call for ecstasy

While the wheels turn in my head.

 

Tomorrow brings another day.

How long can I go on this way.

Sometime there’ll be some hell to pay.

My friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My Many Heads

Copyright: Poor Pirate Entertainment 2025.  Written by le Marquis de Ceas'd 2004.

This tune was originally born out of my many occupational visits to State Mental Hospitals (true story).  I've met many physicians, nurse staff, caretakers & patients while there on my errands and learned a great deal about various debilitating behavioral/psychological conditions.  Most interesting to me was the schizophrenic.  I struggled to imagine what life would be like through the eyes & cognition of such a patient.  Even the psychiatrists can only tell you about the causes & symptoms.  Word & textbooks can't place you in their headspace enough to really shed a vivid light.  Several years after I wrote this piece, a close family relative suffered a traumatic brain injury & was diagnosed with Paranoid Schiziphrenia.  I've been told its like having a whole conference room of angry people talking over one another to you, all in your head.  They never have nice things to say & they never sleep.  I don't pretend to understand what it's like, but I'm going to repeat the words given to me by those that suffer daily.  Maybe then you'll have better comprehension of the hell on earth they endure in silence.

Some folks hear voices in their heads.

While others claim they’ve seen a ghost.

Multiple personalities,

Sharing one body as their host.

 

My friends don’t visit all the time.

And when they do I can’t recall.

The tastes I’ve smelled, the sounds I’ve seen here in my life.

I’m a schizophrenic shopping mall.

 

My many heads are sharing me.

Who I am I just don’t know.

Such a bitch, now I just switched.

All of me are stuck in this freak show.

 

Wonder bout the other me’s inside.

Do they have fun when it’s their turn?

Will I know one of them has died?

Should I feel pain when they get burned?

 

What of everyone outside of me?

Will new found loves accept us all?

I’m doomed to be a lab rat of psychiatry.

Keeps Sigmond Freud on the ball.

 

My many heads are sharing me.

Who I am I just don’t know?

Such a bitch, now I just switched.

All of me are stuck in this freak show.

 

Ask my doctor, what’s the story.

Hypnotized them right before me.

He brings them out in all their glory.

My sanity he can’t restore me… now.

 

Guitar & Keyboard Solos

 

Don’t take prescriptions like they said.

I’ve had my fill of asshole shrinks.

I tame my speeches in my head.

With good ole Valium &  whiskey drink.

 

I know my future here is scorned.

I read it on your steno pad.

I’m never bored & don’t get lonely anymore.

My many heads they drive me mad.

 

My many heads are scaring me.

Where I am I’ll never know.

Such a bitch, now I just switched.

All of me are stuck in this freak show.

 

My many heads are sharing me

Who I am I just don’t know

Such a bitch, now I just switched

All of me are stuck in this freak show

 

I pick up sticks & choose betwixt

The ones that fit the holes

But turn your back & I’ll attack

To shove them up your bloody nose.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Ubiquitous YouTube.

The first video I popped onto YouTube was just an "off the cuff" demonstration of an instrumental I was publishing on Necrovision's soon to be posthumously released CD "Effigy".  It was by no means professionally done as the lighting was via unfiltered incandescent par cans, I wasn't in costume for the show, and the audio came straight from the cheap Piezo microphone typical in Canon Powershot "point & shoot" cameras.  I did it more as a video journal to myself so I don't forget how to freaking play it than a production release to the general public.  But the French (Quebec & France) seemed to like it so I left it there.  Due to it really not aligning with the character of the rest of our material, I've decided to simply make the song a "single" and not publish with the "Effigy" release.  So here it is...  Les Vents du Cheval.  Or in plain English "The Horse Winds".

https://youtu.be/K4QuinbEK0k

Creation Date: June 30th, 2009

Videographer: yours truly, le Marquis de Ceas'd.

Location: #@'er Entertainment.

Then came the only music video the band "Necrovision" ever made as a group.  Again, we captured all the video segments with a cheap Canon PowerShot ELPH & pieced it all together with Microsoft's own "Movie Maker".  I might add, this was a lot of freaking fun to make, and we received a lot of art direction from a good friend of ours in the professional photography business.  This has always been the band's favorite song in our repertoire.  The video, however campy & clearly amateur, doesn't disapoint.  We give you... "Chase the Dragon"

I "may" produce music videos for our favorite "Necrovision" carry overs, including such classics as "Curse of the krackAss", "My Many Heads", and "Effigy".  And that's where we'll draw the line in the sand & say that this was yesterday.  Content from "Debaucherous" will have a familiar but different, more enticing flavor.