Ze Black Ze

It was a dark and stormy night; a wind moaned mournfully, low and dire, mauling the last of dead and dying leaves from trees with an insensate intent, aimed at animating the dry and lifeless forms into a paroxysm of clattering, smattering, chattering creatures, maddened in the maelstrom outside Castle Fzorki's door. The fray was near complete; the lights flickered; the window panes rattled, strained neigh to failure. The walls and ceilings groaned and creaked and swayed menacingly, boding ill and of imminent rack and ruin. What supernatural power it may have been that kept the phone line secured between the pole and Castle Zorki's wall none can say, and what unseen force kept that connection in place will ever be the stuff of legends. Whatever their source, the unseen forces who toiled to sever this last link to the world were held at bay; the line held and the connection blazed away. And as the height of madness and the nadir of hope reached their extremes, there chimed a harbinger in the night: You've Got Mail.

It was from parlin. Parlin44, to be precise. Parlin44 of the far, far, far-far-far East, where even speaking the number '4' is known to cause grown men to faint and brave women to fall into such grim and abiding swoons that nothing but the ministrations of shamans and priests might hope to provide surcease. Yes; and thus it was that the emailed missive came riding, riding, riding on in the chaos of night. Sent, as I'd said, by parlin, the long distance Muhahahaha of Malabazagor and a rare 44th Level Master of Yoda-Fu, sent in subtly couched and finely devised phrases, sent such that the thought was caused, the words formed, and the deed that would ultimately culminate in producing a Black Zenit 3M despite my concerns in doing so. It was Parlin of the East who set these wheels within wheels into motion, and as I look back on the process now, I find I was but a pawn in parlin's Greater Game: I was to Paint a Zenit Black.

But Ze Black Ze was to be for parlin, not for me. And beneath this awesome yoke I strained with consternation and dread, for I'd never painted a Zenit before and I didn't quite know what the pitfalls might be or what problems might befall. And of these potentially problemmatic labors, how could I know in advance if my performance of the Blackening Ritual would be correct? especially without knowing in advance exactly what differences there might be between a Ze Black Ze ritual and, oh, say, a normal FED-2 Blackening Ritual? And so it became clear I'd have to practice the rite at least once to know I'd got it right, elsewise who knew what fearsome Golums might be loosed upon the world? Certainly not I. And I shuddered in fear at the thought.

But my only Zenit --a particularly sweet 3M-- was much too nice to put to the test. And so I took to laying in wait in dark and murky places, and when finally I spotted a proper 3M that would serve me well, I leaped. It was proper in the sense that it wasn't pristine; photographs that accompanied the eBay auction showed the chrome to be marred by brightmarks and the paint to be particularly funky. As well, it came with a pair of lenses (neither of which I had and both of which I wanted), and what's more, W@W! I could exercise the BIN option and get it for a fair price to boot. And this, in a nutshell, is how I came to paint a Zenit black in preparation for the one I'd paint for parlin. Parlin who'd incited me; parlin who'd inspired me; parlin who'd corrupted me. And the photos alongside and above are the results of this corrupting. All hope is lost. Its a beauty. No, its a beauty of a beauty. A Black Leather Beauty. Ze Platonic Black Ze.

And when the painting of this Zenit was done, I awaited the parts parlin said he'd sent. Confident now that this prelude to taking on another person's project had been completed, I grew anxious to set to work. But the deal had been struck, and before long the parts arrived, and so Igor and I went to the lab and bent our backs to the task. Stripping, sanding, preparing, painting, buffing, whoof! And ere long, the deed was done! And here is Ze (other) Black Ze as reassembled by its owner. His is very nice --even with the standard nylon covering on the body (which on mine I'd replaced with leather)-- and I'm proud to have contributed my part in the play.

Ze Black Ze photos by Parlin hisveryownself.

The only real difference between the painted parts of Parlin's Black Ze and mine is that on his (these two lower photos) the engraved portions (the 'Zenit' logo and such like) were filled in red, whereas the corresponding engravings on mine are filled with white.

Believe me, it was all I could do not to purloin the top plate I'd painted for Parlin and send him the one I'd done for myself (it looks that good...). But tempt the fates? Not I. I am, after all, a mere mortal...