‘scrow

Forums  >  Regional  >  Indiana  >  Haymeadow  >  Community Chat  >  WARNING: ‘scrow VANDALS in town
Feathertop31

Hey everyone this is just a WARNING that some YOUNG PUNKS keep MOVING the ‘scrow in my front garden when I’m not lookin!  Just the basic burlap-head model with the straw/hay mixed stuffing I posted in the WIP thread a few days ago.  Gets moved around the house, sometimes right up to my window!

Happened 2 or 3 times yesterday.  Watch your ‘scrows, people.

10/22/2012 10:02 am
JohnCrane

…What is the point of mixing straw AND hay?

10/22/2012 10:05 am

stickupmya

wow great feathertop handy tip its not like we need to know where in town we might expect these vandals or anything

10/22/2012 10:06 am

Cucurbitaphile

Feathertop, that’s terrible news indeed.  I suppose one should expect such shenanigans, what with the holiday drawing on and all, but still – I was first charmed by Haymeadow because I thought this town had, on the whole, better character than that.  Completely unlike Whitbridge, where the hooligans from the local middle school would savage our poor ‘scrows every chance they got, stamping on those delicate pumpkin heads…

Oh, but I digress.  Feathertop, has the vandalism only been in regards to the positioning of the ‘scrow, or was there physical damage beyond that?

EDIT: And while I am loath to agree with the ill mannered and poorly named fellow above, it might be helpful to know in which section of town the punks are operating.

JohnCrane, the straw/hay mixture is well known to provide a pleasant fragrance for the ‘scrow.  This is elementary and I’m surprised to see you asking.

10/22/2012 10:08 am [edited 10/22/2012 10:09 am]

JohnCrane

Why use straw and hay for “a pleasant fragrance” when there are so many affordable prescented artificial stuffings on the market?  Just a thought…

10/22/2012 10:11 am

‘ScroWiccan

some people, perhaps feathertop included, enjoy all-natural ‘scrows, as they feel it honors the earthworking tradition. just a thought, johncrane, but for now keep your peddling to your own thread…

10/22/2012 10:12 pm

Feathertop31

Sorry all heat of the moment and everything.  These VANDALS if I had to guess are operating on the SOUTHEAST CORNER of town, I’m between COVENANTER DR and MOORES PIKE, just beside the OLD CEMETERY.  If anyone in the area can report SIMILAR INCIDENTS we’ll have a better idea.  I’ve already asked my neighbor and gotten a negative but anyone else should pipe up.

Also thanks for your concern Cucurbitaphile but the ‘scrow is mostly unharmed.  As I said the punks are just MOVIN my ‘scrow so when I look out my kitchen window I see him where he should be but later I’ll realize he’s been moved to one of the ‘scrow poles in my sideyard or backyard.  TOTALLY out of season and TACKY!!!  But no lasting harm done.

10/22/2012 10:15 am

Mannikin

Feathertop I’m on the north side, as you know, but do you think there’s a chance these vandals might work up my way?  I’m really worried that my Hall of ‘Scrows might be in jeopardy.  The kids in my neighborhood love it during trick-or-treating and I’d hate to have it get all mucked up this year?

Manny McNamara, Straw, Baling & More
Creator of the Famous Hall of ‘Scrows in the Sandybrook Subdivision!
10/22/2012 10:17 am

stickupmya

shut the f*** up manny you and your 1% can lock the gates against any onslaught of working class teens don’t worry the iphones and ugg boots you used to dress up your d*** scarecrows will be alright

10/22/2012 10:19 am

Strawoman

Just a friendly reminder from your forum moderator that a civil tone should be maintained throughout your discussions here on ‘Scrow!  Also, note that we’re called ‘Scrow for a reason — we’re enthusiasts and experts, not laypersons, and we speak accordingly.

10/22/2012 10:22 am

stickupmya

if you abbreviate scarecrow it would be s’crow not ‘scrow and its the dumbest bullsh** that you expect us all to talk like halfwits

USER WAS BANNED FOR THIS POST
10/22/2012 10:23 am

RaggedyAndy87

Hey Feather Top my home’s over on Pickwick Lane so I’m just on the other side of the cemetery from you and I noticed the ‘scrows we have on our frontyard moving too!  I heard our dog barking and when I went out front both ‘scrows moving almost like they were going to stand up but I remembered last year (*sigh*) and figured there were rats nesting in the straw again.  So my wife stayed inside and I got the broom and knocked the ‘scrows over a couple times and I’m sorry to say they fell apart but it looks like the hay was infested with some kind of centipedes?  A whole nest of them I think but they scattered into the grass.  Anyway this is just another warning for folks in the area its been a damp fall so I guess we got centipedes to watch out for.

edit: I think my dog got bit by one of the centipedes is this bad?  Should I take him to the vet?

10/22/2012 10:26 am [edited 10/22/2012 10:29 am]

Strawoman

Please keep all pet-related talk confined to the appropriate subforum!  Thanks!

10/22/2012 10:30 am

Cucurbitaphile

It wouldn’t surprise me at all, come to think of it, if these vandals weren’t locals at all, or even youths, but some of the more bitter Whitbridge ‘scrow enthusiasts who are simply jealous of the Haymeadow contingent’s work in the county 4-H fairs.  Feathertop, I know it is horribly rude to ask, but are you by chance the lady who nabbed the blue ribbon in the middle division this past August?  I sent you the same question over Private Message but you have yet to respond.

10/22/2012 10:42 am

JuGgAsCrOw420

HAHA yeah that’s prbbly it!!!  Those witbridge boys have been total ‘SCROWNIES since b4 ‘scrownies were even around!!!!! Hey who wants 2 lead a War of Retliation maybe go over to witbridge and cause some wIcKeD mAyHeM?????

-JuGgAsCrOw OUT

10/22/2012 10:51 am

Bodach-rocais

Haymeadow’s ‘scrow rivalry with Whitbridge is both longstanding and intensely honorable.  I doubt they would resort to such tactics, especially so close to the holiday, and I absolutely assure you, very few citizens of Whitbridge would qualify as ‘scrownies.  If you wanted to see such dilettante manchildren in action, salivating over the prospect of their next Star Wars or anime-theme ‘scrow (I shudder to even use that word in relation to such abominations) then you’d be much better off to check out the ‘scrow subreddit.

10/22/2012 11:00

JuGgAsCrOw420

Hey now that’s uncalled for what r u soem sorta witbridge pansy i noticed you have your location pvt r u really from Haymeadow??? lol sCrOwNeD

-JuGgAsCrOw OUT

10/22/2012 11:03

Bodach-rocais

I only had to Google your username, Juggascrow, and was quickly able to discern that you’ve been a frequent poster on r/scrows for sometime.  How typical.

10/22/2012 11:05

Feathertop31

Ok finally ENOUGH is ENOUGH.  Ever since makin this thread the trouble with my ‘scrow has only got WORSE.  Just now as I was steppin out for lunch I found my ‘scrow layin RIGHT OUTSIDE MY FRONT DOOR.  If these are KIDS then they’re playin hooky.  I’m also startin to feel paranoid that MAYBE its someone in this thread but I expect better of this community.

10/22/2012 11:06

Strawoman

Please keep discussion civil and refrain from meta-discourse about the operations of ‘scrow discussion venues other than ‘Scrow itself.

Edit: Feathertop, I feel obligated to ask, have you considered contacting the authorities?

10/22/2012 11:06 [edited 10/22/2012 11:07 am]

Mannikin

Heads-up folks even though I’m on the other side of town I think we got similar or related vandals operating up here in Sandybrook.  Just noticed a few of the exhibits in my Hall of ‘Scrows are outright missing.

Manny McNamara, Straw, Baling & More
Creator of the Famous Hall of ‘Scrows in the Sandybrook Subdivision!
10/22/2012 11:10  am

RaggedyAndy87

I know I’ve been warned about this by Strawoman but just fyi folks as a GENERAL WARNING if you notice some sort of centipede infestation in your ‘scrows keep your pets away from them, I’m taking my dog to the vet now he’s really sick.  I found some of the centipedes in the grass still this what they look like just for reference

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

10/22/2012 11:13 am

WhitbridgeScrowMaster

That’s not what centipedes look like at all, you halfwit Hayseed.

USER WAS BANNED FOR THIS POST
10/22/2012 11:16 am

Strawoman

Andy, that post might be better suited to the Garden Pests Megathread.  Just a thought…

10/22/2012 11:19 am

Cucurbitaphile

Feathertop, I second the concern voiced by Strawoman.  Have you contacted the authorities yet?  It might be advisable at this point.  (Additionally, but off topic: in case you didn’t see my earlier post, please check your Private Messages.)

10/22/2012 11:20 am

TATDAD

SORRY IF THIS IS THE WRONG THREAD BUT I AM NEW TO THE SCROW THING AND WAS WONDERING IF I COULD GET BULK DISCOUNT FLANNEL SHIRTS AND OVERALLS ANYWHERE OUTSIDE OF INDIANAPOLIS THANKS

10/22/2012 11:31 am

Strawoman

TATDAD, you’ll find the appropriate thread for your questions is the sticky at the top of the Haymeadow General ‘Scrow subforum, ‘Scrows for Scrubs.  Good luck!

10/22/2012 11:33 am

Frankelbom

I noticed the possible vandalism in the thread title and just dropped into this thread to see if it was at all related to the sirens I’m hearing right now?  Did they catch the ‘scrow vandals?

edit: No never mind, reading the thread I’m not anywhere near Covenanter and Moore’s Pike

edit: THE SIRENS WERE IN THE DIRECTION OF SANDYSTONE THOUGH????

10/22/2012 11:41 am [edited 10/22/2012 11:42 am] [edited 10/22/2012 11:44 am]

HotMama2

The sirens are probably going to Northside Highschool my daughter is in the ‘scrow club there and she said during their drills some of the kids had an allergic reaction to the straw being used.

10/22/2012 11:50 am

JohnCrane

Heh! This is precisely why people should switch to reusable plastic or nylon stuffing.  Serves those kids right.

10/22/2012 11:52 am

HotMama2

Excuse me but my daughter and her friends in the ‘scrow club allergic or not do not deserve a remark that is frankly rude.

10/22/2012 11:54 am

JohnCrane

Frankly, “HotMama2,” I’m merely observing the fact that your brood wouldn’t have to worry about things like bad straw if artificial stuffings were more widely used in the ‘scrow community.  It’s the wave of the future and you’re a bumpkin if you’re not embracing it.

10/22/2012 11:56 am

Cucurbitaphile

The last thing I want to see in this thread is you ascending to the ever lofty heights of your soapbox, JohnCrane.  Some of us prefer our ‘scrows to be one-hundred percent biodegradable, for the obvious environmental benefit.  Like the plants they protect, ‘scrows should be made entirely of and ready to return to Mother Nature.

10/22/2012 12:00 pm

‘ScroWiccan

cucurbitaphile, i know we don’t see eye-to-eye very often, but i find myself sympathetic to your desire for a holistic approach to the ‘scrow lifestyle.  still, i don’t appreciate your normative gendering of nature as feminine, for while i personally and readily accept the idea of the goddess i fear that by marking the stance as given we’re isolating valuable minority voices in the ‘scrow community.

10/22/2012 12:03 pm

scrowtum

your all a bunch of f***faces and i cant believe the s*** spewed from the gaping a****** that is the psot above this one

10/22/2012 12:05 pm

scrowtum

wt* is this stupid wordfilter

10/22/2012 12:06 pm

scrowtum

omg

10/22/2012 12:07 pm

‘ScroWiccan

well i certainly hope strawoman reappears soon to deal with this new troll…

10/22/2012 12:09 pm

scrowtum

fock you

10/22/2012 12:11 pm

Cucurbitaphile

‘ScroWiccan, I’m sorry to have offended you.  Perhaps we could talk over our issues more at length if you were to answer one of my Private Messages?

10/22/2012 12:14 pm

Bodach-rocais

I would hate to help the spread of a rumor, but it’s been a while since Mannikin reported in this thread.  And it happens I just heard from an acquaintance that the sirens mentioned by Frankelbom were indeed heading to Sandystone — it seems Mannikin was in an accident.  Take this with a grain of salt until we get confirmation, of course, but it may be related to the vandalism.

10/22/2012 12:18 pm

HotMama2

My friend who works for county dispatch just told me the sirens were for Sandystone and Northside High and she said yes that Manny McNamara was hurt he jumped off his roof?

10/22/2012 12:20 pm

scrowtum

haha fock yes chaos rains

10/22/2012 12:21 pm

Whitbridge4Ever

MANNY MCNAMARA COMMITTED SUICIDE

10/22/2012 12:22 pm

Bodach-rocais

How incredibly crass.  I imagine this is what passes for “free speech” over on r/scrows?  Come now, I know you Whitbridge types are in love with reddit.

10/22/2012 12:23 pm

Whitbridge4Ever

IF FREE SPEECH IS THE TRUTH THEN YES THE GUILT WAS FINALLY TOO MUCH AND ALL THOSE BLACKMARKET STRAW DEALS WERE CATCHING UP WITH HIM EVERYONE IN WHITBRIDGE KNEW HE WOULD GET IT SOMEDAY

10/22/2012 12:24 pm

JohnCrane

I’ll say it again: plastic and nylon.

10/22/2012 11:25 am

Cucurbitaphile

And you see, ladies and gentlemen, why I moved to Haymeadow.

10/22/2012 12:26 pm

scrowtum

bc most ppl here, like u, suck?

10/22/2012 12:27 pm

JuGgAsCrOw420

Hye hey hey STEP OFF RIGHT NOW OR ILL DRIVE OVER THERE N KICK ALL YOUR WHITEBREAD A**ES

you don’t seemt o motherf****** this is a TRAGEDY and you don’t mess w/ people who are in tragedys

youll be  sorry if you do

-JuGgAsCrOw OUT

10/22/2012 12:30 pm

Cucurbitaphile

Strawoman, where are you to save us from this madness?  We call for aid!

Speaking of calling, it’s been a while since Feathertop posted.  Should we be worried about her?  Does someone on the board know her personally so we may establish contact?

10/22/2012 12:31 pm

‘ScroWiccan

i am rather troubled by the way you assume feathertop to be a woman, or to identify as a woman, despite their lack of such information in their profile, and furthermore i do not appreciate your continuous efforts to pry into the lives of certain members of this forum far more than is your warrant, cucurbitaphile.

10/22/2012 12:34 pm

Cucurbitaphile

With all due respect, I’m only being a gentleman.

10/22/2012 12:37 pm

‘ScroWiccan

with all due respect, we don’t need you to be.

10/22/2012 12:38 pm

scrowtum

f*** sake get a room

10/22/2012 12:39 pm

Cucurbitaphile

It’s a terrible state of affairs when so many people are completely incapable of being civil, in so many ways.

10/22/2012 12:40 pm

HotMom2

I just checked again with my friend at dispatch and she said Manny did jump from his roof!  Also my daughter said she’s going to the hospital now to because she’s not feeling good I guess she’s allergic?

10/22/2012 12:43 pm

Bodach-rocais

Perhaps we should keep the talk in this thread limited to the issue of possible ‘scrow vandalism?  It seems to be an eventful day for Haymeadow but there’s no reason to keep bumping this thread unless we have good information on Feathertop’s hooligans.

10/22/2012 12:46 pm

JuGgAsCrOw420

Hey yeah yeall come post in my thread HEYMEADOW TRAGEDY so we can get our commiseratin on

-JuGgAsCrOw OUT

10/22/2012 12:49 pm

Bodach-rocais

I’ve made a thread, Haymeadow Current Events, to continue this discussion.

10/22/2012 12:50 pm

Whitbridge4Ever

COME TO MY THREAD MANNY MCNAMARA BOUGHT AND SOLD ILLEGAL NON-REGULATION STRAW TO TALK ABOUT HOW HAYMEADOW IS FINALLY GETTING WHAT’S COMING TO IT

USER WAS BANNED FOR THIS POST
10/22/2012 12:52 pm

scrowtum

come to my thread we are useless pieces of sh** that literally spend all our time making giant dolls to talk about how your lifes a waste

USER WAS BANNED FOR THIS POST
10/22/2012 12:54 pm

Strawoman

Some friendly reminders from your moderator: Keep your tone civil and avoid discussing personal matters or off-topic material outside of Private Messages or appropriately marked threads.

Also: During my lunchbreak I was saddened to learn that valued forum member Mannikin, known to many in Haymeadow as Manny McNamara, died after a fall from the roof of his home in the Sandystone neighborhood.  Manny was the head of McNamara Straw, Baling & More, one of the most widely known ‘scrow stuffing providers in the Midwest, and certainly the greatest provider to southern Indiana.  Condolences and remembrances are best direction to the memorial thread I just made.

As police have reported that Manny’s famous “Hall of ‘Scrows” was completely demolished — with many exhibits outright missing — it is suspected that foul play may be involved, perhaps with the very ‘scrow vandals that seem to be operating in Haymeadow.  If you suspect someone is vandalizing your ‘scrows, please use caution, and notify authorities before taking action yourself.

I’ll be leaving this thread open for the rest of the day in case Feathertop wants to check in.  Out of concern, given recent events, has anyone had any personal contact with Feathertop since their last post was made?

10/22/2012 1:02 pm

TurnipHead

Hi all, mostly a lurker here but feathertop’s my neighbor irl and he taught me basically everything I know about ‘scrows, he even tipped me off to the forum.  To be honest I noticed the sort of stuff he said up in the OP with his garden ‘scrow moving but I thought he was doing it to test things out.  I got home a while ago and saw this thread though and actually the ‘scrow isn’t out right now which is a bit suspicious I’d say.  I called a few times and feathertop didn’t answer but his truck’s home so he may just be napping.  (Don’t let him know I told you but he’s getting on in years. ;))

I’ll keep you guys updated if he don’t first.

10/22/2012 1:18 pm

Cucurbitaphile

Glad to hear some headway on this matter.  Feathertop, if you check this thread again, I’d advise you to ignore my latest Private Message.

10/22/2012 1:21 pm

JuGgAsCrOw420

I am putting the call out now to the forum at large.  The time has come to put childish things away.

We must make our final stand against Whitbridge.  Already through their plots Haymeadow is in chaos — sirens echo all over town, and people are reporting being attacked in the street.  My own ‘scrows disappeared from my front yard barely half an hour ago.

If you wish to stand with me, my forces will be organizing in the parking lot of Northside High School at 3:00 sharp before making the trek to Whitbridge.  Lasting and final glory in this centuries old conflict is ours for the taking, if you dare.  We will burn their ‘scrows to the ground, until there is nothing left but charred flannel and smoking ash.

Come on everyone.  Let’s cause some mayhem.

- General Juggascrow

10/22/2012 1:25 pm

Strawoman

Juggascrow, as I said in the war-planning thread, refrain from wedging this topic into other conversations throughout the forum.  Thanks!

10/22/2012 1:27 pm

RaggedyAndy87

WARNING IF YOU NOVICE CENTIPEDES LIKE THE ONE IN MY PICTURE NEAR YOUR SCORES STAY FAR AWAY THE VET PUT OUR SOD DOWN BECAUSE HE WAS SICK AND MOVING FUNNY THE VET SAID HE HAD WORMS AND IT WAS TOO LATE AND I TOLD WIN WHAT HAPPENED AND HE SAID I WAS WROUGHT BUT I KNOW SHADOW DISNEY HAVE WORMS HE WAS A HEATH DOG I PRIED TO PET SHADOW BUT HE ALMOST BIT ME AND THE CENTIPEDES FEEL OUT OF HIS MOUTH NON MY HAND OF THEM STUNG ME HITS HURTS PRETTY BAD MIGHT BE ALLERGIC AT EMERGENCY ROOM VERY CROWDED I ITCHING MORE CENTIPEDES TYPED ON MY PHONE SORRY AUTOCORRECT

10/22/2012 1:45 pm

Strawoman

Please don’t bump this thread for reasons unrelated to the issue of ‘scrow vandalism.  I am sorry for the loss of your dog, but there are two currently very active threads about mourning and sudden onset allergies, if you think talking with some of those folks might help.

Again, Andy, I am truly sorry for your loss.  Hope you make it through this.

10/22/2012 1:47 pm

Feathertop31

Hello everyone Thank you for your concern this afternoon There is no further vandalism to report In fact i suspect there was no vandalism to begin with and only my overactive human imagination

10/22/2012 2:12 pm

‘ScroWiccan

feathertop! so good to hear from you.  glad you’re okay.  it’s nice to have some good news during such a crazy day.

10/22/2012 2:14 pm

Cucurbitaphile

Appreciate the update, Feathertop!  But what do you mean you only imagined the vandalism?  Certainly something happened to our dearly departed Manny’s Hall of ‘Scrows….

10/22/2012 2:17 pm

Bodach-rocais

The immature ‘scrownies from Whitbridge probably did it as a corollary to their foul play.  I’ve already seen several people in r/scrows copping to it, and while some of them are probably lying, all it takes is one of them to be telling the truth.

10/22/2012 2:21 pm

Feathertop31

Yes that is a good and reasonable explanation for the question that was posed

10/22/2012 2:25 pm

Strawoman

Good to hear from you Feathertop!  If you’re convinced there’s nothing more to discuss I can go ahead and lock this thread.

And Bodach: I know you’ve been around long enough to be familiar with the rules.  Watch yourself!

10/22/2012 2:31 pm

TurnipHead

You guys have to listen thats not feathertop I don’t know what it is but its not him i went over to see if he was ok and i saw him all laid out on the kitchen floor maybe he fell and i thought he was hurt so i ran inside and suddenly i realize dhe was all wrong and then he started to move and he was flat, that’s the only way i can describe it he was flat and then he wasn’t like he filled up with something and he stood up and looked at me andghe didnt have eyes anymore

10/22/2012 2:41 pm

Bodach-rocais

Oh, lord.  We never did verify if this character actually knew Feathertop, did we?

10/22/2012 2:45 pm

TurnipHead

please that thing’s just walking around my house trying to find a way in i’m trying to call the police but no one’s picking up

10/22/2012 2:47 pm

TurnipHead

oh god it saw me through the window it looked tin the window at me and it just left i think it went home but it knows i[m talking to you i need to go

10/22/2012 2:50 pm

Feathertop31

Hello i would like to

go ahead and lock this thread As was promised there is nothing more to discuss

10/22/2012 2:55 pm

Cucurbitaphile

Sorry to intrude at the last second, but Feathertop, have you checked your Private Messages?

10/22/2012 2:58 pm

Feathertop31

Yes a personal meeting would be ideal As I am definitely a member of the opposite sex and desire such encounters And I will bring a pumpkin of the dimensions specified

See you this evening

10/22/2012 3:00 pm

Bodach-rocais

Keep it in the Private Messages, please.

10/22/2012 3:02 pm

Feathertop31

Apologies for the breach of social protocol recently committed And also any distress caused by my baseless allegations of hooliganism and totally imaginary sense of enclosing danger

Please everyone return to a state of unsuspecting quotidian ease

Continue also to make effigies to frighten away the crows and their very sharp very hungry beaks Please keep them far away

That would be ideal

10/22/2012 3:04 pm

THIS THREAD WAS LOCKED BY STRAWOMAN 10/22/2012 3:06 PM

Pride & Prejudice & People

 

When the zombie apocalypse finally happened
we were so primed for it, culturally speaking
that it almost didn’t happen at all.

At last all the truths universally acknowledged
all the rules of what to shoot and sever
all the jokes and Jane Austen mash-ups meant something.

We’d memorized our escape routes
and plans for barricades
long in advance.

We knew the best way to break a broom handle
and how to stab upward, through the jaw and cranium.
We knew to never turn our backs on the corpse’s corpse.

Years of daily dead-eyed aggression
were unleashed explosively
as we took down our families

our friends and our lovers
and though they were no longer those things
we pretended they were.

Still, in time, there was no denying it
was all over. Then we shuffled back to what we knew
home or office or school, and we

did what we had always done. Old habits
and manners fell back into place
like missing organs.

Now a new viral media craze
has come on so gradually
that we hardly know when it began.

In a recent hit film
a group of surviving scientists
concocts a cure and comes

to overturn our way of life
or rather the thing we have
which approximates it.

One half the world cannot understand
the guilty pleasures of the other
and we admit the premise is ludicrous, yet

now we’re going through all the old Jane Austen
and adding more chapters about the human characters.

Tiny Little Love Stories

My pal Joel Golby has a tumblr called Tiny Little Love Stories where he posts microfiction, which is to say, love stories, which are tiny.  To celebrate Valentine’s Day me and several others have guest written some of the many stories posted there today!  You should definitely go read them all, but in case you’re impatient and only want more ME, here are the specific ones concerning Yours Truly:

Joel’s Intro

The Poems

The Dictionary

HP Lovecraft Goes to an Anime Convention

You who consider yourself enlightened may still yet laugh at me, but I say to you again: the mind of man, in his Troglodyte infancy, has never dared to imagine the terror I experienced during my two days and three nights wandering the foetid catacombs of the local convention center.

At every turn a new grotesque assailed my eyes: from shimmering diaphanous wraiths with silver hair, to abnormally corpulent beings whose very bodies seemed unnaturally imbricated in the bounds of our sublunary space, and also their homemade Sailor Moon outfits.  My relief at spotting, in the undulating mass of terror, a pair of fuzzy cat ears turned quickly to extremest nausea when I saw they belonged not to a cute little kitty but a squamous youth protesting loudly to the price of a certain table’s merch.

I retreated to the balcony to recompose and it seemed, for a moment, as if a noxious cloud hovered over the entirety of that hideous scene, a condensation nearly visible in its dank iridescence.  The cries of those foul creatures echoed up the columned walls, ululating cries for such incomprehensible entities as “huggles” and “glomps” — and even, in some tenebrous corners, were the hushed, mad whispers of “yiff!”

“Eh, you must be a stranger in these parts,” murmured a voice to my side and, turning, I saw a slight, yellowed old man who by his attire I recognised as a custodian.  ”Happens every year.  Olways a young man not much dif’rent than yeself shows up to this here convention, not knowin’ what he’s in fahr.”  His eyes regarded me with a lizardlike intelligence that inspired in the pit of my being a wordless unease.  ”‘T ain’t so bad onct yer used ta it,” the custodian continued.  ”I’m rememborin’ way back in Ninety-Eight when we began hostin’ this deal…. Wal, Sir, you can believe thar was a lot o’ outcry at the noise an’ the mess.  I was one o’ them!  But after some years had gone by and by ye start to git used to perty much anythin’, ye reckon.”  He chuckled loathsomely.

“Anyhaow,” he said, shaking the leathery head when he saw my horror was not assuaged, “what it was fer me, was I seen ‘em at their meals.   This stuff called… ah, ah, Pocky, ye ken?  Can’t tell ye ‘zactly whut makes it whut it is… a kinda… cookie dipped in… dipped in whatever one might imagine, d’ye see?  An’ I saw ‘em with it, monchin’ and snarfin and snackin’ and I jus’…. got a cravin’…. Queer haow a cravin’ gets ahold on ye, eh boy…?”

My mind pushed to the very limits of exertion, I made to flee for good.  Yet the convention center maps, posted to the walls like horrid, unremembered glyphs, are all but unreadable and after more than one wrong turn I realised I had furtively stumbled into the very nexus of that maelstrom: the Screening Room.

That thing — that terrible unnameable thing – towered above me, projected through the fuliginous aether of that room to proportions unnatural, though it was dimly and reluctantly understood that even unprojected it was a being wholly disproportionate to any known body: its eyes hovered like gibbous moons, iridescent like pools of ichor suspended whole, against the natural laws of physics, in a malformed skull, while about it splayed in non-Euclidean angles, in a shade of the most decadent purple, structures that might have been in some perverse evolutionary perspective homologous to hair.  Before I could leave the room that thing began to gambol, to the amusement of its wretched audience, and began to gibber in its alien tongue: “Onii-chan!  Onii-chan! Itai!!!

And then came the tentacles.

Itai!!!

 

Cormac McCarthy’s Pre-Written Obituary

The world was saddened today to learn of the loss of author Cormac McCarthy.  Mr. McCarthy lived a long life and anticipated his own passing some time ago, and thus wrote his own obituary well in advance.  It is printed without editorial comment below.

the old man

 

The old man died this week.  He was known chiefly in the region as a charlatan who peddled illusions to a people desperate to speak back into the echoes of its own savage past and there scrape up the dried blood on the worn stones of this country’s history.  He had white hair and a face dry and cracked like an ancient arroyo scraped into the land by a presence perhaps implied by circumstance but far from tangible and at many points seeming to be a figment altogether.

The old man had read quite a few books and at some point took it to his own mind to produce a few which was hard but honest work and in the end the satanic engines had churned up and down the hillsides devouring the trees to make the paper on which his thoughts were printed.  His works included Child of GodNo Country for Old Men, Blood Meridian, and The Road.  Several were bought by soft men in suits and these men went back to their luxurious cities and they made these stories into talking pictures not entirely to the old man’s taste but it happened regardless, inevitable like the onrushing dark as the sun sinks down into the parched earth and extinguishes the light of gods and reason.  On account of one of his books he met the black woman Oprah.

The old man was not always an old man but was once a child.  He was a child partly in the East where he was born but the currents of his life dragged him West and his fascination with this place was to become in some ways metonymic with the old man himself.  When the old man was a child he once saw a dog beaten to death with a tire-iron by a local rustic and as the child who would become the old man watched the animal’s eyeball stalk and all drip like egg yolk down the cracked skull he thought, One day that will be me, and in the grand design of things he was not far off.

The old man’s favorite song was Always on My Mind but not as you would expect based on his demographics the Willie Nelson version but rather the recording from the 1980s by the Pet Shop Boys. It will be played at his services this Thursday no matter whatever his bitch of a wife says.

Texts from Last Night

The library here is a lot stranger than any others I’ve ever been in.

It’s two towers of aging Indiana limestone that have stood here for forty years and for all I know might stand for forty more.  Unlike most major university libraries students are allowed to browse the stacks freely, which is of course quite a privilege, and something that makes me excited to have it at a resource.  Actually being there, however, is quite an experience.

It’s far larger than any academic library I’ve been in, and thinking about the books it’s acquired throughout the years — for the first time in my life if I want to read something I can almost guarantee it’s close by — it’s a little unsettling.  On one hand, it’s exciting to consider all of those books around me, all of those things freely available for me to pick up and read.  On the other it makes me intensely aware that there are many more books available to me than I could ever read, literal decades of accumulated attempts at communication, more than I could ever comprehend or understand or synthesize into a coherent whole.

This becomes especially pertinent if you hit the library during a slow period, or if you end up in part of the stacks where no one usually goes, and have plenty of time on your hands.  You may be surprised at what you find.

I was on the ninth floor of the east tower — the highest you’re allowed to go if you’re not staff — when I first saw the phone.  It was probably the beginning of September and I was dropping by to pick up some books for a possible research project.  I stepped out of the elevator and into the small hallway situated in the dead center of the stacks.  Immediately across from the elevator bank are the restrooms, plus a table supporting a yellowed dictionary (which seemed adorably quaint to me upon first glance) and I noticed, right by that, a purple cell phone.

Cell phones aren’t unusual, of course, and I figured this one wasn’t my problem.  Someone had left it — probably after sending a text or making a call, which incidentally is a big no-no since cell phone use is prohibited beyond the main lobby.  After waiting around for a few minutes, listening for anyone approaching or to see if anyone ducked out of one of the nearby bathrooms, I realized that the owner probably wasn’t going to come back any time soon. Because I’m something of a Good Samaritan, I decided to take the phone down to the Lost and Found, after I got the Milton biography I came for.

I grabbed the cell phone — a purple Motorola — and slipped it into my bag before running my errands.

It wasn’t until I got back to my apartment that I realized I’d forgotten about the phone entirely.  I’d been distracted in the stacks and gotten a deal more than the Milton bio I was aiming for, and the Motorola had slipped my mind.  I found it when I emptied out my bag and instantly felt a sharp pang of embarrassment.  Of course, all was not lost.  I just turned the phone on.

I already mentioned it was a Motorola.  It was also marked as a Verizon phone, and beyond being purple was mostly nondescript.  It was one of the models that slides open to reveal a perpendicular QWERTY keyboard.  It also had a camera, but the background was what looked like a default image: two figures silhouetted against a sunset on a beach.  Above that the time was displayed, the signal strength (good), and the battery life (about half).  My plan was to see who the last person contacted was and hit them up letting them know a friend’s phone was missing, so I quickly navigated through the menus.

I discovered the lists of incoming and outgoing calls were both blank.  The text message in- and outboxes were likewise empty, and so was the address book.

I can’t say I wasn’t suspicious.  This simply wasn’t how people use phones. Yet, if someone had chosen to clear out their phone, well, more power to them, no matter how weird it was.  That just meant I had no way of getting it back to them on my own, and at the time I remember being distinctly grateful that the next day I could just drop it off at the library Lost and Found, as per my original plan, and be done with it.

So I set the phone aside, and went about my business.  It was a Wednesday, which meant my roommates would be out most of the evening for various reasons, so I took advantage of the situation by making full use of the kitchen.  I was dipping chicken thighs in Italian dressing when I got the first text.

I’d left the phone on, and right next to my own phone in the pile of homework I habitually keep on the kitchen table when I’m cooking.  There was no ringtone, only a setting to vibrate, so when the text came, I thought it was my own phone going off.  (I personally hate ringtones.)  But I was surprised to see, after washing my hands and heading over,  that it was the purple Motorola’s screen that had lit up with a message notification.  One new text message.

Thinking I might be able to return the phone in person after all, I opened the message.  It was prefaced by the number of the sender — no name, since there was nothing in the address book — and I could tell at first glance that the number wasn’t local.  The message said

are you home yet?

I hit reply and with fingers not at all used to the keyboard wrote back that I wasn’t the owner of the phone, that I’d found it in the library, but I’d be happy to return it if I could figure out who it belonged to.  I hit send and waited.

I expected a response within at least a few minutes.  In my admittedly limited experience with things like this, people are pretty prompt when a phone is missing.  But as it turned out, I didn’t get a response until half an hour later, after my chicken and sweet potatoes had been in the oven for a quarter of their bake time.  I was sitting at the table doing homework when the next text came.

are you home yet? this is harder than i thought lol

Confused I spent some time comparing the originating phone numbers  They were the same, but the second seemed oblivious to my reply to the first.  Not sure what to do, I replied again, something along the lines of, I’m sorry, this isn’t my phone, I said I found it, could you tell me who it belongs to?

The phone was silent again until I was doing dishes almost an hour later.  I took my time checking it, since I was already expecting something less than helpful, and sure enough I wasn’t disappointed.

when they knocked i didnt answer so its ok. ive been drinking a little. ok maybe alot lol what about you?

Still the same number.  I didn’t respond to it this time, figuring that whoever was on the other side of this conversation was probably a bit more than drunk.  Instead, as a mild curiosity, I googled the number, idly fantasizing I’d find it associated with a Facebook page or something.  No such luck there, but I did manage to pin down a region: Rancho Palos Verdes, CA.  Nowhere close to local, but the university takes students from all over.

I shrugged this off as I went about my business, finishing up the dishes and moving on to more homework.  It occurred to me at one point that due to the time difference, my mystery correspondent was drinking a little (okay maybe a lot) at four in the afternoon.  Strange, but I hear they have odd ways in California.

Regardless of my own lack of response, I saw the purple phone had received yet another text after I got out of the shower.

hes been weird since you left

By this point I was beginning to feel a bit uneasy.  Whose phone was this, who was texting it, and why were they ignoring me?  I began to consider the possibility that this was an elaborate prank, or maybe part some psych doctoral student’s research project.  Of course it made me wonder what sort of prank or research project relied on people stealing a cell phone from a library and sending those people aimless texts.  I wondered if it were some sort of trolling gimmick — someone with money to blow was hoping to get a rise out of me, and would upload a transcript of my hilarious reactions to a cutting edge comedy website, or a 4chan board or something.

That still didn’t make any sense.

I got another text while I was pondering the possibilities, though.

i saw lights outside my window are you home yet

I swallowed.  It had to be a trick.  Someone’s dumb game.  Would I be playing into their plans if I called?

Only one way to find out.

I called the number and waited.  One ring, two rings, three rings, four and five and — someone picked up.  ”Hello?” came a voice.  It sounded like a woman’s voice, maybe middle-aged.

“Hello,” I said, doing my best to organize my thoughts.  I honestly hadn’t expected anyone to answer and now I didn’t know what to say. “I’m not sure whose phone I’m calling from, I found it in the library here and when I received a text from your phone I tried asking for a name so I could–”

There was a groan.  ”I’m so sick of this,” the woman said.  ”Don’t you have anything better to do?”

Then she hung up on me.

I stared at the screen for a few moments, watching  CALL ENDED blink on the screen, and then set the phone aside again.  It was certainly some kind of trick, I decided.  I was getting texts from the woman’s number.  I got one just before I called her.  There was no way she didn’t know what I was referring to.  It was a prank, a really elaborate and inscrutable and asinine joke.

A bigger man, at this point, would have checked out, just turned the phone off.  But I was beginning to feel indignant and more than a little pissy toward whoever was orchestrating this game, and more than a little anxious to see if they tried anything further.  So I just set the phone aside on my night stand, right next to my own phone, and went about the rest of my nightly routine, finishing up reading for the next day’s classes.  As 11:30 rolled around, the purple phone hadn’t shown any signs of life.  I went to bed.

I’m a heavy sleeper, which somewhat explains what happens next.  How I remember it beginning is rolling over in bed during the night, as I think most people do, and becoming aware that something was off about the light level in the room.  That set me on the path for a full awakening, and as I smashed my face into my pillow in protest I became aware of a low buzzing sound.  The sound of a phone vibrating against my night stand.

I’d forgotten about the purple Motorola and immediately assumed it was my phone going off, that there was an emergency somewhere.  I reached out, my hand scrabbling around the nightstand until I felt my phone’s familiar case, and cracked open my eyes.

The screen was dark.  The light was coming from the other phone.  Memories returned and, irritated, I picked up the Motorola with the intention of turning it off.

That was when I caught sight of what the screen said.  It was not a call, of course, but a text message.  But not just one.  The screen said there were now 15 new messages.

I dropped the phone, my hand reaching out again for my glasses.  I blinked as I pulled them on, wondering if I’d read the screen correctly.  On the night stand the phone buzzed again as I picked it up.  16 new messages.

I hit a button, automatically opening the most recent.

im coming now let me in

I closed the message and frowned, still trying to get the sleep out of my eyes.  As I focused on the screen I noticed two things.  The first was that it was past two in the morning.  The second was that the battery icon was flashing.

But before I could fully comprehend that, the phone died, the screen flicking to black in an instant.  But in that instant I saw once again the background image, the wallpaper, that sunset.

Then I was alone in the dark.

I took the phone back to the library the next day, not even bothering to see if my own phone cord would suffice to recharge it.  I decided, after my night of intermittent sleep and uneasy dreams, that I didn’t want to see whatever else it had to say.

“Hey,” I said to the man behind the reference desk, “I was wondering if you had a Lost and Found here.”

“Sure do,” he said.  ”Lose something?”

I shook my head and showed him the phone.  ”I found that up in the stacks on the ninth floor,” I said.  ”No one was around, so I figured if anyone came back looking for it they’d check here.”

“Ninth floor?” said the man.  ”Thank you very much.”  He took the phone and dropped it somewhere below the counter as I walked away.

I wondered if I had imagined the look on his face when I set the phone down between us.  It was almost surprise, or rather, the look someone trying to hide surprise.  Or recognition.  Maybe I had imagined it, I decided.  Just like when I glimpsed the phone’s wallpaper for the last time, and in my confused, half-asleep state imagined I saw, standing black against an orange beachside sunset, a solitary silhouette where I had before seen two.

*

Last week I got a call from an unfamiliar number.  I usually don’t answer them but occasionally, if the mood strikes me, I will.

This time, after maybe four or five rings, I did.

“Hello?” I asked.  I was standing in the hallway of the apartment, just getting ready to head out for the night.

“Hello,” said a voice, a young woman’s voice.  ”I’m sorry, I don’t know whose phone this is, I found it today, but you’ve been texting me and–”

I understood what was happening, at least on a surface level.  I suddenly understood, with perfect clarity, as if I could see it physically, what phone this girl had found.

But I still don’t know what came over me.  I knew, as she was speaking to me, exactly what it was I was going to say.  I don’t know why I said it, but with a heavy sigh I did: “I’m so sick of this.  Don’t you have anything better to do?”

And then I hung up.

My phone began to buzz in my hand almost immediately; she was calling me back.  I held down the red END button, watching as my phone’s screen went black, and I kept it off for the rest of the day.

When I turned it on the next morning, I was relieved to see there were no new messages.

Opening lines to short stories I have never finished (yet?)

  • On the day my brother and I were to meet our wives I found the aluminum crutches in the attic over the library, and thus was cast backward into memories of our childhood.
  • “Ouch!” cried the man in front of the firing squad. “Ouch, ouch, ouch!”  Then he fell to the ground, dead.
  • “Is this your first time in the UK?” asked the magician, which was always the question people here asked Sharpe after they’d talked to him long enough to pick up on his accent.
  • Ginger Sparkleshine’s eye is three hundred feet wide.
  • “Gentlemen,” said the scientist, “we have a situation: Google is haunted.”
  • Time is a strange thing — it makes all the difference between a mass murderer and a serial killer.
  • Sarah was on her way home from the library when she first realized there was a clown following her.
  • Ralph Dutch was born on a sunny summer’s day at the age of eight.  The affair was a mess for all involved, particularly Mrs. Dutch, who refused to have children again.
  • We were just across the Vermont-Massachusetts border when my sanity began to crumble and these huge lobster-bugs came swooping out of the hills and flying around the car.  ”Holy hell!” I shouted.  ”What the fuck are these goddamn things?”
  • Rosemarie Ashfield lay in her bed and watched the dust motes back-flip in the blades of light that filtered through the lace curtains.  She was not entirely sure what year it was, but she knew that outside on the lawn it had to be 1948.
  • Hello my Friend I am writing you about your account in the Auxiliary Christian Bank of Nigeria.
  • One morning Martin woke to discover that, much to his dismay, the entirety of his iTunes library had been converted to black metal.
  • Elizabeth’s first instinct, when she realized her family’s new apartment was alive, was to let her parents discover and deal with the fact on their own time.  But then it ate their cocker spaniel.
  • My wife emitted a high, thin whistle much like a tea kettle, and also like a tea kettle, continued to do so until I took her off the stove.

 

Arcane magazine – OUT NOW!

Hey dudes — do you like stories I write???  Do you like spooky Lovecraftian monsters?  Do you like Southern Gothic?  Then you will probably LOVE my short story “In the Place Where the Tree Falleth”, available in the first issue of Arcane magazine and on sale now!

For the low price of $3 you get an eBook featuring my story as well as several other entertaining weird tales of various tenors and tones, and $8 will net you a hard copy.  This is around 40,000 words of material — that’s half a long novel!  Or all of a short one!  So please, head on over to Arcane and check it out.