I just had the most bizarre encounter of my life. I met my father. Yes, that was not an error. I met the spirit of my dead father atop a building last not. That is not even the main issue. With him he beared the worst news to ever meet my ears. My father was murdered. Not only was his life taken from him, but at the hands of my uncle. My father requested that I avenge him, but from the moment I heard that foul play was involved I knew automatically in my head that someone must die by my hands. The scene will be reminiscent of Pieter Bruegel the Elder's "The Fight between Carnival and Lent." An ode to Northern Renaissance art. The picture below depicts the chaos that ensues in my mind. 
I am not mad for thinking in these terms but I should be praised. Certainly I must be doing God's will because anyone who breaches the loyalty and trust of their own brethren must pay with their lives, right? No one deserves to die! NO ONE!! Except my uncle. Yes he will be the exception because he deserves. He must be the contradiction. This will be my last post and the next time you hear from Thou, Price Hamlet, the blood of the world's greatest sinner shall be on my hands like John the Baptist.
The Discovery of the Murder of Holofernes, BOTTICELLI, Sandro
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