So I created some in my quest for further self-hatred 2.0.

Check it out on spotif/tidal/itunes by searching for Covesthur.


Music similar to stuff from a documentary fades in as the camera zooms still closer to the papyrus. A match-cut takes us to the demi-god presumably the titular character, asleep on a ground in the forest. There is some kinda homoerotic symbolism here, but it is just because of the focus on the fit and sweaty body of this Hercules-like man.

The camera ponders the area. It's a opening in a forest, warmly lit because of the absence of trees at this area. The ground around this person is full of all sorts of knick-knacks and woodworking tools, and most notably an absurdly eclectic array of weapons. A heartbeat sound slowly fades in rhythm with the soundtrack.

Suddenly a loud rumbering noise begins, drowning out the music by several decibels. The demi-god, largely unfazed by the racket, lazily stirs from its slumber and trots in a random direction. Possibly in the direction of the disturbance.

We cut to a shot directed up a long tree. There, standing on little platform; a spy clad in heavy armor. He looks around for a bit and then slides down the tree in a smooth obviously trained way. He disappears.

We cut back to the demi-god, pawing at a series of animal tracks in the forestbed. We can see the spy slowly approaching from behind. The demi-god man perks up and slowly turns around.

"So," says the demi-god, his thick Germanic accent matching that from a Vikings documentary, "You thought you'd finally duped your ol' pal Morpheus, eh?" while taking up his sword. In a swift motion, he throws the sword into the approaching spy. The body appears to almost suck the sword into the heart area, but the fact is that this is because of the secret powers this demi-god guy has gained from his demi-godly status.

The spy makes no sound, and disappears into ash. A thing that indicates that he was a demon from Tartarus. Ok then.


Edit: The recursive concatenation of text printed on the back of vhs tapes with Discovery Channel stuff produces a fractal loop containing all possible film scripts. Talking Heads is a cool group, like David Byrne is my spirit animal.