Journals27
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As in olden times...
1 min read
Let us raise our glasses in toast to a time that was no time and
a place that was no place, when things dread and formless flopped
and wiggled in the inky infinite before the big bang. Let us recall
that terrific skid mark in the underwear of creation, the big bang,
that disgorged unwelcome somethingness into nothingness. Let
us shed a tear for the countless dead worlds and all-consuming
ebon stars moving in the emptiness that grows ever larger. Let
us consider that our time is short and the joke is on us. May this
Christmas fill you with the shuddering horror and uncertainty it
did our pagan ancestors, for nothing is certain in a cosmos where
even death may die.
Iä! Iä! Hastur cf'ayak'vulgtmm, vugtlagln vulgtmm! Ai! Ai! Hastur!
(Illustration by Virgil Finlay)
(Illustration by Virgil Finlay)
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So, now Tumblr too...
2 min read
Yesterday, after weeks of getting everything wrong they could humanly manage, Tumblr announced a site-wide ban on all adult content. They phrase it differently, but the AI they're using has gone full Skynet, flagging everything you can imagine as a violation of the new site policy (see examples at the bottom of the post).
Some folks are doing the petition thing to get matters back to the way they were. 250,000+ signatures so far. Add yours to the petition if you like. www.change.org/p/tumblr-com-al…
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Norovirus in da house
1 min read
Some tips for surviving norovirus:
1) Reacquaint yourself with the finer points of germ theory;
2) Learn to love the smell of bleach;
3) Say good-bye to your pride.
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Flirting with disaster - Pt II
2 min read
8 May 1979 - I wax large over having scored a ticket for Supertramp (14 May) at Lakeland, Florida - at the same time I note that a crew of us went to a photographer and had fake IDs made. As I record it, I never ever had to show my fake ID, and moan several times about having wasted twenty-five dollars that I might have spent on "more useful things".
In later entries of that same year, I purchased tickets for Van Halen (8 July - opening act: The Screams); Peter Frampton (11 Aug. - during which I "ate every pill and piece of paper that was given me".); Ted Nugent (24 Aug. - during which Mother's Finest, one of the two opening acts, was booed off the stage by a vociferous minority, I was so drunk/stoned I thought they were booing Ted Nugent. I also note that I "vomited hugely" in Billy Whitstine's car during the return trip.); Jethro Tull (3 Nov. Several entries near the date of which feature livid descriptions of trying to acquire mushrooms, including being trapped in a tree for several hours by a "most uncooperative" bull).
In no few entries, I whine and moan a good deal about not being able to score tickets for Blue Oyster Cult and The Cars (concert dates not noted).
Apparently, at least in my musical tastes, I was something of a rocker.
In later entries of that same year, I purchased tickets for Van Halen (8 July - opening act: The Screams); Peter Frampton (11 Aug. - during which I "ate every pill and piece of paper that was given me".); Ted Nugent (24 Aug. - during which Mother's Finest, one of the two opening acts, was booed off the stage by a vociferous minority, I was so drunk/stoned I thought they were booing Ted Nugent. I also note that I "vomited hugely" in Billy Whitstine's car during the return trip.); Jethro Tull (3 Nov. Several entries near the date of which feature livid descriptions of trying to acquire mushrooms, including being trapped in a tree for several hours by a "most uncooperative" bull).
In no few entries, I whine and moan a good deal about not being able to score tickets for Blue Oyster Cult and The Cars (concert dates not noted).
Apparently, at least in my musical tastes, I was something of a rocker.
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Flirting with disaster
1 min read
On this day in 1977, in what must surely be accounted a failed attempt to commit suicide, embraced with a perverse desire to find Mothman or some other bugaboo, I entered the cellar of a decaying brick farmhouse on the Kanawha River near Winfield, WV, that had been vacant since the family living there had all died during the 1919 flu epidemic. The sticking point that makes me see this as a failed suicide attempt is that the rotting shelves, floors and walls of the cellar looked like they had a heavy coating of black jelly from all the mold. At least, I was smart enough to pull the neck of my T-shirt over my mouth and nose as I back-pedaled out.
The house is no longer extant. During the 1980s, the construction of a housing development and the "new" Winfield High School removed all trace of the old house. Although, I am sure the black mold is still there in the dirt, biding its time.
The house is no longer extant. During the 1980s, the construction of a housing development and the "new" Winfield High School removed all trace of the old house. Although, I am sure the black mold is still there in the dirt, biding its time.
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