So I got a text message from my friend Sarah tonight.
You remember Sarah, right? Gal pal, occasional fake date, and all-around Queen of Texting? Well, her latest text included a pic of her tattoo-in-progress:
One of her recipients responded (edited slightly),
I was thinking of getting something similar since I like Lovecraft a bit. "Maw of Cthulhu" with my booty hole as the mouth.
And being the smartass that I am, I replied,
OMG! I'd hit that so hard, whoever pulled me out would be the rightful king of England!
(you know what's coming, right?)
Bobby is a guy, but he's often mistaken for a gay one.
I don't know whether to cry or start putting up the track lighting and Judy Garland posters.
Edit 22 May 10: an earlier (and clearer) pic of what has come to be called "Sarah's Ass Circus."
My Verizon DSL has been down since early yesterday morning, which makes me more than a little... pissy irritable. Not that I suffer from Intarweb addiction or anything. Oh, no, not I.
Damn it.
Anyway, my connection's back so here are a few YouTube videos that never fail to bring a smile to my face:
Veterans' Day and, paradoxically (I work for the VA), it's a holiday for me, which means lots o' time to cruise the Intarwebs for weird and unusual stuff, to wit:
"Miskatonic Valley Fine Art features sculptures by Joe Broers based on the 'Cthulhu Mythos' creations of H.P. Lovecraft and the 'Lovecraft Circle' of writers. Each sculpture is cast in resin, finished, and comes with fictitious 'documentation' that helps provide a feeling of verisimilitude to the project."
Such as...
If I had the money I'd send one to, well, a loooong list of people I know.
By the way, some years ago Stephen Hickman released a Cthulhu statuette that I SO wanted, but was, and still is, WAY out of my price range ($700 for the resin; $1200 for the bronze... if you can find one):
You reading, Cath? Forget Ganesha; you need Cthulhu! HE'LL remove obstacles for ya!
ARKHAM, MA—Arguing that students should return to the fundamentals taught in the Pnakotic Manuscripts and the Necronomicon in order to develop the skills they need to be driven to the very edge of sanity, Arkham school board member Charles West continued to advance his pro-madness agenda at the district's monthly meeting Tuesday."Fools!" said West, his clenched fist striking the lectern before him. "We must prepare today's youth for a world whose terrors are etched upon ancient clay tablets recounting the fever-dreams of the other gods—not fill their heads with such trivia as math and English. Our graduates need to know about those who lie beneath the earth, waiting until the stars align so they can return to their rightful place as our masters and wage war against the Elder Things and the shoggoths!"
Right on! If Mr. West wins we should all celebrate with Cthulhu Cake!
Anti-virus software fixed. Computer all better now. Sissy Spacek crush in remission. Countdown resumes. Randomness (i.e., few transitional phrases) ensues.
The banner link above should tell you all you need to know--I'm not the only freak who worships at the altar and cauldron of Halloween (no, I didn't make it, you goofballs; I ain't that skilled). Seems there's a whole (g)host of people doing a "31 Days of Halloween" thing and you really need to check 'em out--cool stuff a-plenty!
Shifting gears abruptly, my belief is that a good Halloween party demands a good Halloween game and Mafia variant Do You Worship Cthulhu? looks to be a winner:
"One person acts as moderator, overseeing a village of people, one (or more) of which are secretly Cthulhu worshippers! The worshippers begin sacrificing other villagers one by one. Deceive your friends and lie through your teeth..."
Because, let's face it, any game based on deception and lying to your friends guarantees hilarity will follow.
Eventually, I'm going to do what everyone else seems to do around this time of year--post my favorite Halloween-related music links (and there are many); meanwhile, let's get the obligatory "Monster Mash" (interesting trivia on the Wikipedia link) out of the way, but this time with a twist. See, the song was originally co-written and recorded by Bobby "Boris" Pickett then, much to his annoyance, immediately covered by venerable Horror Host John Zacherle. Forty years later the two of them performed what no less a light than Elvis Presley (allegedly) called "the dumbest thing he'd ever heard."
Version 1
Version 2
(Boris Karloff voice) "So Elvis, if you're out there listening, we're still here"
Halloween Countdown Day 3 Being mostly a motley collection of vaguely Halloween-ish links with a Gothic edge I need to purge from my Google Notebook:
What Halloween Party would be complete without a Skeleton Disco Ball? It's exactly what you think it is--a motorized, revolving 8-inch skull covered with little mirrors. Though smallish, is still perfect for an apartment-based Zombie Prom Night theme!
"If only we'd had one of these skull-shaped disco balls in the Malden High gymnasium during prom night. A magical night, in which I convinced the DJ to play 'Bloodletting' during the last dance of the night, which I spent futilely trying to slip my hand under the blood red corset of my consumptive-looking goth date. Sigh. Our love making? It would have smelled of cloves."
Poor guy. He might have had better luck if he'd first arranged an intimate, elegant Halloween dinner and used these skeletal serving forks (again from Boing Boing).
Yep, today is H. P. Lovecraft's birthday and ya gotta wonder what the ol' boy would have thought about his later influence on popular culture. Maybe this. And as an avowed nihilist he might have appreciated Why We're Here (pdf) and possibly even Who Will Be Eaten First, but the truth is all these things came too late As Joyce Carol Oates pointed out in "The King of the Weird," "{l}ike Poe, Lovecraft died believing himself an ignominious failure. In his most fantastical musings this artist of 'cosmic pessimism' could not have foreseen his posthumous fame."
But we of a certain...twisted...mindset can reap the benefits!
H. P. Lovecraft's Fried Seafood Cart by Todd Schorr
I've got nothing in particular to say today, just a bunch of links I've been accumulating and thought I'd share with the group starting with this plaque:
--And speaking of stories, I've noticed more and more authors posting their works online for all to enjoy. Spotted recently: a vintage piece of cholesterol noir, "Lipidleggin," by science fiction/horror writer F. Paul Wilson and Bruce Sterling's "Kiosk," which he describes as "a kind of science fiction that could only be written in the 21st century" (see the Boing Boing blurb).
--Should the current economic downturn have you worried about global Apocalypse and Armageddon or if you're merely a casual survivalist/preparedness junkie, you may want to scan the list of 100 Items To Disappear First and begin your stockpiling accordingly.
--And finally, be sure to check out Scott Meyer's webcomic, Basic Instructions, on a regular basis.
So in case you hadn't noticed, the Holidailies thing didn't work out for me. It's not for lack of trying; Crom knows I've written hundreds of fantastic posts this month... in my head... but there seems to be a little difficulty in transferring them from cerebral cortex to keyboard and for the life of me I don't know why. Screw it; I'm posting Links of Interest instead.
But, when that quality carbide ball touched the surface of the paper, it was not ink that came out. From a distance I heard the screams of men and the cackling of innumerable ravens. I stopped, cold and sweating profusely. I looked down at the Bic Crystal black medium ballpoint pen which I held in my hand, only to see darkness. I dashed it against the wall, recoiling in horror. I saw in the corner of my eye my faithful notebook, which now lay on the ground. Once unmarred, I saw now the small mark which I had made with the devil's own pen. It spread across the page like a plague, and looking at it I gazed upon true horrors. For, what I thought had been ink was in fact a portal to a dark, unforgiving dimension. A portal whose maw was now widening to engulf all hope and joy in the world.
'God, what have I done?' I exclaimed as I weeped and fell to my knees, 'What have I done?'
From beyond the Dark Gate I heard these words, words which I can never forget. A terrible, booming voice said to me, 'Ia! Ia! Cthulhu Fthagn!'
I ran, blindly stumbling, away from that place and never looked back. My only hope is that none shall follow in the path I've walked down, too blinded by hubris to realize my follies.
Lovecraftian Goodness And speaking of the minions of Cthulhu (or these about to become so... oh, hell; now I've gone and spoiled everything!), there's a new blog in town, The Arkhamist, "Blogging Life in Arkham, Massachusetts." Recent starry-eyed college grad decides to move from Boston to small town, starts job at local paper, documents new life. Things are gonna start happening real soon now. Fun to read, but start with the first post for full effect. Are fictional blogs the new epistolary novel?
Gifty Madness Also seen on Boing Boing, this lovely skull-shaped motorcycle helmet. Probably not DOT-approved, probably not legal in helmet law states, probably not safe at all, but undoubtedly cool and worthy of a place in my skull collection should I ever have a spare $150 or so.
Baconpunkery Continues I've been spending way too much time hanging out on Warren Ellis's fairly frantic Whitechapel discussion board, which is fast and dense and fun and chock full of interesting people and interesting ideas and bizarre-ass topics and y'all should just hie your butts on over there and check it out and not make any comments about my obviously caffeine-induced run-on sentencery.
*A reference wasted on those of you unfamiliar with the Fox Movietone newsreels of the 'Thirties and 'Forties, standard time filler for television stations of the early 'Sixties.
**I've been informed recently that Warren merely adopted the term "baconpunk;" the word's true origin and meaning can be found here in Baconpunk: All Hail Our Fried, Greasy Master.
Middle-aged Otaku, that is, a "pathological techno-fetishist with social deficit" (Gibson, 1996), in constant search of amusement and his next Aspergerian perseveration.
