Guess what? I’m going to be having a chat with my spinal clinic about some side effects from that epidural pain block a couple weeks ago. Thus, we didn’t have a linkspam last Sunday, and I’m working from a larger pool of posts this week. Also, I am behind on everything. Enjoy.
Side note, Ian’s Silent Hill 2 stream of Toluca Prison (and an hour’s discussion of storytelling with Vic Frederick) went up two Wednesdays ago. (He’s now taking a month off while I pick up the [my] slack.) I made it to chat, despite shaking off anesthesia. And I’m glad I did because the first major fight was… something I’ve never seen before, I’ll put it that way. I now have a new goal for when my videos get there.
Meanwhile, remember how I posted about horror as comfort media? These people get it.
“Dude’s out here trying to solve House of Leaves. I give it to page 120 before the actual minotaur gets him.” No one has read this book so purely in its own spirit as this one beleaguered guy reading it in French with graph paper and a middle finger.
“Someday Amaury Guichon is going to release a video where creates a life sized statue of a human being, but as he adds detail, it becomes increasingly clear that the chocolate model is becoming more and more akin to a perfect replica of the viewer”
The other night husband and I were watching a documentary about the yeti where they were doing DNA analysis of samples of supposed yeti fur, and every one of them came back as bears.
Anyway, the next night we watched a thing about some pig man who is supposed to live in Vermont. People said it had claws and a pig nose but walked upright like a man. Now, I happen to know that sideshows used to shave bears and present them as pig men. So every piece of evidence they gave of this monster sounds to me like a bear with mange.
So now the running joke in our house is that everything is bears. Aliens? Bears. Loch Ness monster? Bear. Every cryptozoological mystery is just a very crafty bear.
Bears. They’re everywhere. Be wary. Anyone or anything could be a bear.
oh shit
As the OP of this post, I’m going to threaten that if this gets to one million notes by the 10 year anniversary on 1 June 2026, one year from today, I will get a lower back tattoo of the loch ness bear monster.
people who learned about greek mythology due reasons that DONT involve having read percy jackson at 12 freak me out, like what the FUCK was going on in your life that you found out that zeus turned into a pigeon to woo his wife like HOW
Some of us had Xena: Warrior Princess and access to a public library.
Or just the public library. Edith Hamilton’s Mythology and Bulfinch’s Mythology were gateway drugs enough for me. 😄
…That said, though: I think the time machine will be out of the shop around this time last week. Shouldn’t have to go back much further than 1979 to sort this out. Thanks for the thought.
huh. so i just found out “Torment Nexus” was invented for that one specific meme. i genuinely thought it was from an Orson Scott Welles novel. my ignorance is an unending source of surprise and delight
um. Orson Wells. H.G. Scott Welles. H. George Orson Orwell. Philip Bradbury. stop making me keep track of white men names
in my defense all of these are separate individuals famous within classic sci-fi circles:
H.G. Wells
George Orwell
(George) Orson Welles
Orson Scott Card
at some point this is not my burden
Yeah, and you know what? JUST DO NOT INVENT THE DAMN TORMENT NEXUS.
(Or re-invent it.)
(clutches head) Honestly. Just don’t. …Gods, have we taught you kids nothing?? …It’s like we’re shouting into the void here.
I live in complete poverty and disability. Trying to make art to sell as prints as I am not getting commissions the way I used to. I am disabled and diabetic, immunocompromised from recent surgery, and I live in a traditional filipino house partially destroyed by storms and termites. I work 3 jobs, but they are all very unstable. Please please please, if you’ve ever derived joy from my art or insight from my posts or book recs, if you could pick up a print, send a tip, or subscribe to my patreon where I have 400+ exclusive drawings / early access, it would help keep me alive, in the most literal sense. I have been given a second chance at life, and I would like to keep living. Thank you so much
(after returning home and opening the mailbox for the first time in ten days, and going through the mail that’s arrived while I was up in the Baltic lands…)
…So now is the time (after requesting it 11 months ago) the appointment finally surfaces for me to get my stupidly-thick ear wax vacuumed out?* Like, on this coming SATURDAY MORNING, too early to get there that morning on the bus from near-home? And there’s no way to reschedule it that won’t possibly result in the new appointment then not happening until 2027 sometime?
So that after just getting home and hoping for a weekend to draw breath, I have to go up to town tomorrow and sleep in Dublin again??
…Honestly. WHAT. THE. EVERLOVING. FECK.
(growls) I shall have my revenge, though. Gonna pick out somewhere cool to eat tomorrow night. …Just hope I don’t fall asleep during the main course.
*I can’t just have the ears syringed out, unfortunately. I have a perforated eardrum on one side. It’s vacuuming or nothing. :/
You get to that point (after a week’s business travel) where one part of your brain says—as it’s done before—Oh gods it’s gonna be good to get home to where you don’t have to check out in the morning.
And another part of your brain says, sadly: Except it’s not really home any more, because the one who made it “home” is gone, and never coming back.
…Now begins the long search to find a new definition of “home”.
…”I may be some while.”
(ETA to @amypihcs: Nobody is “just a nobody.” Certainly not you. …And thanks for the thought. ❤️)
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