Breaking news: the first NED papal conclave was a success. A vote was held and ✝️Pope Ned the 1st was elected by divine decree. Please direct all further band based inquiries to their holiness until further notice.
🙏 Nullus unquam facit 🙏
@nobodyeverdoes@chchchchava - the collab on our single "Ablation" in the flesh (!!!) - what a groovy time.
Everyone did an excellent job last night at the AFTER HOURS gallery show- @therealemilyquarles@re.hear.sal and everyone else from Fresco, FILD, and beyond - thank you all for making such a magical night!
NED is playing OUR FIRST SHOW EVER, THAT'S SO WILD!!! It is now our time to NEDify an audience and NED them sooooo goood - 457 Broome Street NYC Saturday March 22nd - art work from 12 to 6 and music beyond that - 7? 8? 9? All times after 6 pm will be rock n' roll !!! !t's free so you should go!
🪕💿🎸🎵
(Cont)
He did not get the benefit of total death, he
BECAME PONDEE - and his soul became a conduit between the pond and the Church of the Holy Cross.
Now he wanders the dark corridors of the church, only to wander into the souls of all who come to the church.
Fresh meat abounds.
Wherever Pondee wanders, he leaves little puddles behind.
Tiny showers fall when we are not looking.
We feel called to the pond now - NED has reached into a place of demonic possession.
They tell us the songs to sing.
They give us the blood of mind, the enchantment of evil, the love of fear and pain.
We may not ever leave here, as we cannot go away.
If you are reading this, please, send for help - only a powerful mystic can break this furious hell from us.
We need a wizard who knows the depths of the pond.
We need to see this darkness, peer past it into light - we need the clouds to move away forever...
The legend of El Pondee
This is the Church of NED....we've been taken over by a demonic force that the town of Spring Mills has tried to hide for over 300 years. The entities' name, you ask?
El Pondee.
And who was he before he became the Pondee? The puddled man of the pondness?
He was a young man in the before time, a man named Dougie Hahn; a commoner, a poor boy who tragically lost his life in 1725.
It was a cold winter day, March 8th - and the place was Poedardy Pond - where he emerged from the water sopping wet and cold after accidentally falling in.
His fiance Beatrice had seen him fall - she ran across the edge of the pond to reach her love but she fell into a tight crevice trying to reach him.
He tried all he could to save her - but ultimately, the cold took her away. It pulled her under and then spit her out onto the rocks.
He dragged her frozen body towards the Lutheran Church of the Holy Cross, shivering cold and near the point of death.
Climbing up the steps of the church, his feet - wet and slippery - caught the edge of a granite slab, sending him head first into the cornerstone. Dougie's skull was crushed by the impact - and as he lay dying, a strange black haze settled into the windows of the church, darkening the sky outside and mingling with dougie's blood.
The witches of the Mill had heard his cries, the screams of a dying man haf reached them in the nearby forest; they smelled blood, and knew that it was the perfect time to employ an entity using other spirits lost in the pond. They floated across rhe hillsides, hovering over the pond long enough to be conduits with the spirits of the water.
Then they dashed to the church, and as Dougie died, mingled the pond water with his blood, leeching incantations and spells of doom into him. With his last breath, he called faintly to be taken back "to the Pondee" before slipping into the darkness.
He did not get the benefit of total death, he
BECAME PONDEE - and his soul became a conduit between the pond and the Church of the Holy Cross.
Now he wanders the dark corridors of the church, only to wander into the souls of all who come to the church.
Fresh meat abounds.
Wherever Pondee wanders,
