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Wednesday, December 17, 2014 Mammalian diving reflex: "The mammalian diving reflex is a reflex in mammals which optimizes respiration to allow staying underwater for extended periods of time. It is exhibited strongly in aquatic mammals (seals, otters, dolphins, etc.), but exists in weaker versions in other mammals, including humans, including babies up to 12 months old (see Infant swimming)." Anhedonia: "In psychology and psychiatry, anhedonia (/ˌænhiˈdoʊniə/ an-hee-doh-nee-ə; Greek: ἀν- an-, "without" and ἡδονή hēdonē, "pleasure") is defined as the inability to experience pleasure from activities usually found enjoyable, e.g. exercise, hobbies, music, sexual activities or social interactions." Tuesday, December 16, 2014 Wednesday, November 19, 2014 Miyabi: "Miyabi (雅) is one of the traditional Japanese aesthetic ideals, though not as prevalent as Iki or Wabi-sabi. In modern Japanese, the word is usually translated as "elegance," "refinement," or "courtliness" and sometimes refers to a "heart-breaker"." Monday, November 17, 2014 Aarne–Thompson classification system: "The Aarne–Thompson tale type index is a multivolume listing designed to help folklorists identify recurring plot patterns in the narrative structures of traditional folktales, so that folklorists can organize, classify, and analyze the folktales they research." Friday, August 15, 2014 Tokonoma: "Tokonoma (床の間 toko-no-ma?), also referred to simply as toko, is a Japanese term generally referring to a built-in recessed space in a Japanese style reception room, in which items for artistic appreciation are displayed. In English, tokonoma is usually called alcove." Wednesday, August 06, 2014 Amarone: "Amarone della Valpolicella, usually known as Amarone, is a typically rich Italian dry red wine made from the partially dried grapes of the Corvina (45% – 95%, of which up to 50% could be substituted with Corvinone), Rondinella (5% – 30%) and other approved red grape varieties (up to 25%)." Thursday, July 03, 2014 Anthropodermic bibliopegy: "Anthropodermic bibliopegy is the practice of binding books in human skin. Though extremely uncommon in modern times, the technique dates back to at least the 17th century. The practice is inextricably connected with the practice of tanning human skin, often done in certain circumstances after a corpse has been dissected." Wednesday, April 23, 2014 Thursday, April 17, 2014 Tuesday, April 15, 2014 Kármán vortex street: "In fluid dynamics, a Kármán vortex street (or a von Kármán vortex sheet) is a repeating pattern of swirling vortices caused by the unsteady separation of flow of a fluid around blunt bodies. It is named after the engineer and fluid dynamicist Theodore von Kármán, and is responsible for such phenomena as the "singing" of suspended telephone or power lines, and the vibration of a car antenna at certain speeds." Wednesday, April 09, 2014 Avoirdupois: "The avoirdupois system is a system of weights (more properly, mass) based on a pound of 16 ounces. It is the everyday system of weight used in the United States and is still used to varying degrees in everyday life in the United Kingdom, Canada, and some other former British colonies despite the official adoption of the metric system." Thursday, March 13, 2014 Cryptid: "In cryptozoology and sometimes in cryptobotany, a cryptid (from the Greek κρύπτω, krypto, meaning "hide") is a creature or plant whose existence has been suggested but is not discovered or documented by the scientific community." Friday, March 07, 2014 Jenks natural breaks optimization: "The Jenks optimization method, also called the Jenks natural breaks classification method, is a data classification method designed to determine the best arrangement of values into different classes. This is done by seeking to minimize each class’s average deviation from the class mean, while maximizing each class’s deviation from the means of the other groups. In other words, the method seeks to reduce the variance within classes and maximize the variance between classes." Arete: "Arete (/ˈærətiː/; ἀρετή, in its basic sense, means "excellence of any kind". The term may also mean "moral virtue". In its earliest appearance in Greek, this notion of excellence was ultimately bound up with the notion of the fulfillment of purpose or function: the act of living up to one's full potential." Tuesday, February 11, 2014 Semelparity and iteroparity: "Semelparity and iteroparity refer to the reproductive strategy of an organism. A species is considered semelparous if it is characterized by a single reproductive episode before death, and iteroparous if it is characterized by multiple reproductive cycles over the course of its lifetime. Some plant scientists use the parallel terms monocarpy and polycarpy." Friday, January 31, 2014 Flehmen response: "The flehmen response (/ˈfleɪmən/; German: [ˈfleːmən]), also called the flehmen position, flehmen reaction, flehming, or flehmening, is a behaviour whereby an animal curls back its upper lips exposing its front teeth, inhales with the nostrils usually closed and then often holds this position for several seconds." Friday, January 10, 2014 Holocene extinction: "The Holocene extinction, sometimes called the Sixth Extinction, is a name proposed to describe the extinction event of species that has occurred during the present Holocene epoch (since around 10,000 BC). The large number of extinctions span numerous families of plants and animals including mammals, birds, amphibians, reptiles and arthropods. Although 875 extinctions occurring between 1500 and 2009 have been documented by the International Union for Conservation of Nature and Natural Resources, the vast majority are undocumented. According to the species-area theory and based on upper-bound estimating, the present rate of extinction may be up to 140,000 species per year." Thursday, January 09, 2014 Meteora: "The Metéora (Greek: Μετέωρα, pronounced [mɛˈtɛoɾɐ], lit. "middle of the sky", "suspended in the air" or "in the heavens above" — etymologically related to "Meteorite") is one of the largest and most important complexes of Eastern Orthodox monasteries in Greece, second only to Mount Athos." Yoshiko Kawashima: "Yoshiko Kawashima (川島 芳子 Kawashima Yoshiko?, 24 May 1907 – 25 March 1948) was a Manchu princess brought up in Japan, who served as a spy in the service of the Japanese Kwantung Army and Manchukuo during the Second World War." Enlightened self-interest: "Enlightened self-interest is a philosophy in ethics which states that persons who act to further the interests of others (or the interests of the group or groups to which they belong), ultimately serve their own self-interest."

I've been getting into datamining and know quite a few other dataminers, and together we've been able to conjure very interesting info pertaining future content, including gameplay and story. Contrary to a somewhat popular belief, there IS a real Sheepsquatch coming, as opposed to the imposter you can fight right now. Through datamining we have been able to discover its gameplay, model, and related event. - The Sheepsquatch will have four attacks, an unarmed melee attack, a kick attack, a poison attack, and finally a quill shooting attack. It has several unique animations, and cannot be pacified. - Thanks to a Russian Fallout discord, we are able to see what the Sheepsquatch will look like as a result of putting it's model on a Deathclaw. They both share the same skeleton, so it won't look much different in-game, if at all. - The Sheepsquatch will ship with an event called "Free Range". The event will consist of herding and protecting a group of Brahmin to an enclosure. The Sheepsquatch of course will be the antagonist for this event. This event will drop an improved repair kit. - It will ship as a regular cryptid as well as the event. - There are three variants: Toxic, Noxious, and Necrotic - As for when it'll be activated and in-game, there is currently a challenge to take a picture of a Sheepsquatch, so I'm assuming with the next 7 days. Fortunately for you all, I have a lot of info how Ever Upwards will play. It's shipping with two new dailies, an event, and a whole new quest-line to roleplay being a scout. - The scout quests will involve you rising through the ranks of the Pioneer scouts across its few camps, namely Camp Lewis and Camp Adams. It'll start out with "Order of the Tadpole" where you join the Pioneer scouts and enter its first rank, the tadpoles. In order to rise up through the ranks you will have to gain merit badges and participate in camp activities, IE dailies and the new event. The next rank after tadpoles is the possum scouts. - The troop is made entirely out of robots, with a Mr.Handy named Jaggy being the scoutmaster. - Named merit badges you can get are first aid, cooking, and archery. Archery is interesting because there is a bow and arrow weapon that has been in the files since launch, and it looks like its coming with this update. Keep in mind there is obviously more merit badges than these. - Daily: Stings and Tings, and Daily: Operation Tidy are two dailies that involve you maintaining the scout camp. Stings and Tings being you eliminating bugs, and operation tidy being you cleaning up junk. - Event: Campfire Tales is going to be the new event we get, and in my opinion going to be one of the best in-game. It is a large choose your adventure/ Dungeons and Dragons type event that is operated at night by a robot at the camp and involves everyone participating. To put it simply, the robot will narrate a story that has many different splits and endings, and when it gets to a choice or crossroads everybody in the event will vote on what happens. The option with the most amount of votes is put into the story, and it continues onward. This happens at Camp Adams - Here is a lot of the dialogue that will be in Ever Upwards: Dialogue 1 Dialogue 2 Dialogue 3 - TINY Snippet of Campfire Tales Arktos Pharma Lab The Arktos Pharma lab is my personal favorite piece of content coming in the future, as by the looks of it looks both challenging and interesting. It's going to be a high level area hosting the event "Project: Paradise", and has lots of cool stuff with it. - The story is as follows: Arktos Pharma was trying to make a perfect habitat for life to co-exist in, and the project to do so was called project paradise. Along the way they attempted to create several serums that would pacify animals and allow them to co-exist. They also performed experiments on animals to acheive all this, sometimes turning them intoi mutated and dangerous versions. The place where these experiments happened was called The Chasm. Unfortunately, after the bombs fell communications with the outside world went silent and the scientists below sent out scouts to the surface to see what happened. Soon after they opened their doors a horde of ghouls was able to enter the facility, and started to terrorize the scientists. In an attempt to modify the security system to target ghouls, the targeting protocols were removed and the automated security throughout the facility targeted humans as well, killing them all. Somehow, the security system was taken down and replaced with an ordinary robot, who since then keeps on trying fruitlessly to complete project paradise. He eventually sends out a distress signal, and has the 76 dwellers help him complete the project. - The gameplay will consist of multiple stages. First you defend groups of animals against waves of enemies coming from The Chasm, and eventually delivering them to the correct habitats. Secondly you deliver the correct foods and formulas to the correct animals. These two stages seem to be broken into smaller individual pars, so the event will ring true to a more traditional dungeon. - We are getting new plants and items from this, namely RadKelp and other unnamed chems and plants. - The Arktos dungeon is the one shown in the Wild Appalachia trailer, aside from The Burrows. - As for when this comes, maybe after Ever Upwards, just as the burrows came after Shear Terror. "To anyone out there, this is Dr. Christina Bryan. I'm a botanist employed at a classified laboratory deep underneath the Arktos Pharma facility. We were down here when the bombs fell. We held out as long as we could before sending people to the surface to find out what the hell happened. That was a mistake. There was nothing up there except death, and these… ghoulish creatures. They got down here somehow and started taking us out, one by one. Our last remaining technician tried to program the security force to recognize these creatures as a threat, but it seems he disabled their targeting parameters instead. They… they started killing everything. Eight of us have locked ourselves in the lower generator room. If you hear this, please… come and save us. Before it's too late." (This text was too spread out to screencap so I just manually copy and pasted) The Legendary Vendor seems to come with legendary power armor, and also seems to move locations. So we actually know something quite interesting about this. Through datamining, we are actually able to see the transcription of the prologue holotape. - <Sound of a large crate lid opening, someone getting out and coughing, and the crate closing> - <coughing, slow heavy breathing> - (He's slowly becoming aware of his surroundings and the devastation of the world for the first time while trying to catch his breath.) - Speaker – Babylon01_NPCM_REDACTED " - My god. - (Quick, under his breath almost. He's a bit shocked.) - Where … the hell … am I? - (Where <short pause> the hell <short pause> am I?) - Doesn't matter. Where was the other one again? - Tower. River. Fork. - (A slight pause between each word.) - The hike from Morgantown was short, but it taught me all I needed to know. - This part of the world is over. Might as well be the entire world from the looks of it. - Makes my mission easier and simpler now. - <sigh> I swear on every soul it took. Every soul I took. That I'm gonna unplug that goddamned bucket of bolts. - (Talking to himself at this point. A bit quieter, more resolved.) - Tinman mentioned Reclamation Day. I have to find them. Have to go north. Babylon seems to be the inside codename for Nuclear Winter, as it pops up a lot in the files. The bucket of bolts in reference could be MODUS, as it killed everybody in the Enclave, and this could be a member that managed to escape. This would make sense, as the speaker seems to be shocked at the look of the outside world, and a lot of the Enclave members stuck it out in the bunker since the beginning of the war, and never really saw the outside. Vault 94 and 96 The story for 94 is a bit sad. The people who populated Vault 94 were religious and non-violent as possible, and when the bombs fell they sent out ambassadors to gain attention to the vault. Their goal was to turn it into a safe haven where people could have free supplies and a place to live. Unfortunately, raiders showed up and killed everybody there. On the way out, the raiders shot the GECK that the vault had, and it exploded, resulting in the creation of the Mire. There are 3 datamined holotapes, all in two images of out of order dialogue. Image 1 Image 2 In Vault 96 a skeleton crew of six people maintained a large array of cryopods which contained plants, spores, and wildlife. The evil vault-tec experiment however, was that all six had radical social archetypes. One of the scientists was a sociopath, one an extreme invert, one an extreme extrovert. The crew also had grudges against their roles, IE the scientist tasked with doing experiments on the animals is a huge animal rights activist, one person who studied space their whole life is forced to evaluate biological reports, etc. This conflict of people types leads to the pods malfunctioning, and the contents mutating and killing everybody in the vault. If you have any questions, please ask me! Source: Original link © Post "A huge write-up of datamined future content (MASSIVE Spoilers)" for game Fallout. Top-10 Best Video Games of 2018 So Far 2018 has been a stellar year for video game fans, and there's still more to come. The list for the Best Games of So Far! Top-10 Most Anticipated Video Games of 2019 With 2018 bringing such incredible titles to gaming, it's no wonder everyone's already looking forward to 2019's offerings. All the best new games slated for a 2019 release, fans all over the world want to dive into these anticipated games!

Studio: Dark Sky Films Director: Bobcat Goldthwait Writer: Bobcat Goldthwait Producer: Sarah de Sa Rego, Aimee Pierson Stars: Alexie Gilmore, Bryce Johnson, Laura Montagna, Bucky Sinister, Timmy Red, Steven Streufert, Shaun L. White Guy, Sr., Nita Rowley, Tom Yamarone A couple camping in the remote woods of Bluff Creek, California discovers that the legend of Bigfoot may be real. The work of filmmaker/comedian Bobcat Goldthwait has been and can be classified many different ways, but “cutting edge” does not fit a descriptor. While “God Bless America” was bitingly funny as subversive comedy, a satire lampooning obsessions with reality television stardom can hardly be considered timely when released in 2012. “American Idol,” that film’s chief target, hit its ratings peak six years earlier in 2006, after all. Even dated material can still pack a punch, although it has a challenge connecting to the jaw if too much time has passed in the meanwhile. With “Willow Creek,” Goldthwait continues a pattern of being behind the observational curve on current trends. Not only is “Willow Creek” not even close to the first “found footage” Bigfoot horror movie, it is not even the only one to be released in 2014. (Eduardo Sanchez’s “Exists” is another.) Yet coupled with an appreciation for Goldthwait’s continued development as a competent director, excited chatter buzzing about the festival circuit gave reason to be optimistic that “Willow Creek” had something inventive, frightening, and entertaining in store. Let me declare in very simple terms, “Willow Creek” is none of these things. I am legitimately stunned that so many positive reviews exist for “Willow Creek.” Not because it is impossible for someone to enjoy the movie, or because the film does not deserve published praise it may have earned from those who did enjoy it. It is just that nigh daily, I read scathing criticisms bemoaning “found footage” films simply for being “another formulaic found footage film,” which is precisely what “Willow Creek” is. For the life of me, I cannot think of anything that justifies categorizing it as an exception to that generalized disdain for the much-maligned format. Assuming everyone else did in fact see the same sleeping pill supplement I witnessed, the best conclusion I can draw as to why my negative reaction is vastly different than the seemingly popular opinion of positivity is that I saw the film alone at home. Others have spoken of tension-filled theaters and an electrified atmosphere heightened by those sitting around them. Perhaps seeing the movie with an audience gives “Willow Creek” a different impact. I suppose if you have that option, then take it. Because brushing my teeth afterward provided more excitement than the personal home video screening of “Willow Creek” did. Jim is a Bigfoot enthusiast who sets out for Bluff Creek, the California site where Roger Patterson and Bob Gimlin filmed their own infamous “found footage” back in 1967. With one side of her mouth smirking, and the other side sighing, Jim’s girlfriend Kelly joins him for the outdoor adventure partly to be supportive and partly as a “why not?” lark. Armed with a camera and a microphone, Jim bounds about neighboring points of interest interviewing folksy locals about the elusive cryptid for an amateur documentary intended to play who knows where. If that sounds like act one of virtually every “found footage” movie you’ve ever seen, that’s because it is. But “Willow Creek” seems to forget that a slow burn introduction should ultimately lead to something, and so it ends up with a second and a third act that are just as dull as the first. In other words, “Willow Creek” takes the most despised element of any “found footage” movie and makes an entire feature film out of pointless non-events. “Willow Creek” is just shy of 78 minutes long. Here is how it approximately breaks down: 0:00:00-0:30:00 – Interviews with area residents and trips to nearby cafes, motels, and assorted Bigfoot statues for local color. Yes, that is an entire half hour of average persons recalling Sasquatch sightings, musicians singing homemade songs about Patterson and Gimlin, and Jim and Kelly eating Bigfoot Burgers at a greasy spoon. 0:30:00-0:40:00 – Jim and Kelly finish their drive and hike the rest of the way to their campsite. Aside from a brief encounter with an angry mountain man issuing a trespassing threat, this is ten minutes of dirt paths, tree branches, and aimless travel. 0:40:00-0:47:00 – The tent is pitched, skinny-dipping ensues, and the first real hint of trouble comes when Jim and Kelly return to an upturned campsite. An awkward relationship moment between Jim and Kelly provides the film’s best scene, which is ironically unrelated to any physical horror at hand. At this point, it should be mentioned that the best thing about “Willow Creek” is actress Alexie Gilmore. Her character is a skeptic with rational cynicism about Bigfoot’s existence who argues with her boyfriend using logic and facts. Kelly comes across as a naturally “real” woman and Gilmore does not have to force an inherently likeable personality to take shape. 0:47:00-1:05:00 – Next, “Willow Creek” arrives at its much talked-about single take that is nearly twenty minutes of Jim and Kelly cowering in their tent. While not an entirely novel idea, it is a bold choice that makes for an interesting scene, although not the tensely terrifying one that others describe. Even if it made sense that a Sasquatch might randomly punch a tent wall from outside, run away, and then come back to do it again, this hasn’t been a fresh concept since “The Blair Witch Project” did it in 1999. 1:05:00-1:13:00 – Jim and Kelly become lost in the woods, just like everyone else who has ever been between trees in a “found footage” movie. When something visual finally does take place, the first thing the camera does is to go out of focus while pointing at the ground. 1:13:00-1:18:00 – For the first three of the final five minutes, the camera faces Jim and Kelly as they stare into the darkness waiting for the inevitable attack everyone knows is coming. The attack takes place, and the last two minutes center full frame on trampled grass as the couple is mauled offscreen. Honestly, awarding one out of four stars to a movie this dull and unsatisfying is generous, and the bulk of that lone star is earned almost solely because Alexie Gilmore is so enjoyable. Of “Bigfoot: The Lost Coast Tapes” (review here), “Bigfoot County” (review here), and “Exists” (review here), “Willow Creek” ranks dead last among “found footage” Sasquatch-themed thrillers. “Willow Creek” is not poorly made, it is merely boring. The film feels more authentic than most “found footage,” but it is not scary and it is barely interesting as entertainment. The best thing that can be said about “Willow Creek” is that it accurately captures what a real-life Bigfoot hunt would probably be like: completely uneventful and ultimately a letdown. Review Score: 25

Bigfoot (also known as Sasquatch) is the name given to a cryptid Hominin-like creature that is reported to inhabit forests, mainly in the Pacific Northwest region of North America, luckily where I live. Immediately after the 1967 Patterson-Gimlin film, the public went wild. Newspapers were filled with articles and interviews with the two men, and now that there was footage, witnesses were no longer afraid of being called crazy. Dozens of new reports poured into the local Willow and Bluff Creek police stations, and many people began confessing to being part of the hoax, trying to get a share of the money. One man was Bob Heironimus, who confessed to having purchased a gorilla costume, and appearing in the now-famous footage. But after further investigation, his claim, along with all other hoaxers’ was disproved. The buzz and attention surrounding the two men was certainly of envy, and scientists and began making it their mission to disprove the film’s credibility. The footprints casted by Patterson after the film received critiques by disbelievers like Primatologist John Napier who noticed inconsistencies in the height and length of strides taken by the subject, and John Green, who produced a recreation of the film, predicting the creature to be much smaller than Patterson had claimed in a previous interview. Although it seemed that everyone was against the two men, scientist and Bigfoot researcher Grover Krantz discovered the evidence that would prove the film credible. Krantz explained that when a human walks, they must lock their knees, which the creature in the film does not do. Other supporting scientists like Jeff Meldrum have examined the film frame by frame only to discover that the way the subject distributes its weight as well as turns its neck is extremely uncommon for a human. These scientists, along with new eye witness reports, were the foundation for the Bigfoot phenomenon. This evidence turned Bigfoot from a legend to a possible species. The years following the film, Bigfoot became part of an everyday conversation in Bluff Creek, eventually connecting all fifty states in a search for the illusive creature. Because of the lack of official conclusion on the Patterson-Gimlin film, the public grew more fascinated with the creature. But why does such a creature captivate us humans in such a strong manor? Perhaps it is the connection to our ancestors, the early humans. The more publicity the Patty film received, the more expeditions took place, and the more eye witness evidence surfaced, which started to create an image of the creature, and eerily enough, the description of Bigfoot was similar to that of a human. Theories of Bigfoot being a giant “half ape, half man” became the concrete for Bigfoot’s exposure in the media, and shortly after the famous Patty film, the well-known drive-in movie “The Legend of Boggy Creek” was released in 1972, based on real reported events happening to a family living in rural Arkansas. The horror film also featured stories from other residents in the area, and recreated the stories reported. The dramatization of the real life events is what seemed to have shocked the public the most, being that the portrayal of the creature was that of all eye witness accounts, a six to ten-foot tall apelike man covered in black hair. But the eeriness of its silhouette in the darkness was perhaps what caused the attention from a younger generation. I believe people like to be scared, and to find out that an ape-like man is walking through your local state park is creepy enough. Then add a terribly scary horror moving that claims to be based on true events. The younger generation became fascinated, and every drive-in viewing was packed. Because of the almost cheesy exaggeration of true events in, “The legend of Boggy Creek”, Bigfoot took a quick turn from a possible scientific discovery, to a tale of a folk monster. Similarly, the media released another movie, mocking the creatures existence in the 1987 “Harry and the Hendersons”. In this comedy, a Bigfoot moved in with a family and learned to blend in with everyday life. The film was so popular, a TV show was shortly produced after. •Coleman, Loren. Bigfoot!: The True Story of Apes in America. New York: Paraview Pocket, 2003. Print. •Meldrum, Jeff. Sasquatch: Legend Meets Science. New York: Forge, 2006. Print. •National Geographic Animals 2014 Bigfoot The Definitive Guide Full Documentary. Youtube, n.d. 5 Aug. 2014. Web. 16 Dec. 2014. <http://youtu.be/UyBGsTDMRHw>. •Roger Patterson Bigfoot Footage. YouTube, n.d. Web. 16 Dec. 2014. <http://youtu.be/lOxuRIfFs0w>.

The Flathead Lake Monster is a cryptid, a creature whose existence is not proven, that is said to be located in Flathead Lake in Montana. Its appearance is very similar to that of the Loch Ness Monster, and the two have often been said to be the same type of creature. Flathead Lake is on the southern tip of the Rocky Mountain Trench. It is located in northwest Montana and is the largest lake in the western United States, approximately 28 miles (50 km) long and 16 miles (25 km) wide, and 370.7 ft (113.0 m) in depth at its deepest point. Like anomalien.com on Facebook To stay in touch & get our latest news The monster is usually described as a large eel-shaped creature, round with a wavy body like a snake, that spans from twenty to forty feet. It is brownish to blue-black with grayish-black eyes. It has often been described as looking like a whale or a giant sturgeon – one of the oldest families of bony fish in existence, often found in lakes and rivers. One other account described the beast as a giant eel-like creature that was very shiny and had a head shaped like a bowling ball. It has been reported to have many humps coming above the surface of the water when spotted, pointing toward the possibility that it is a creature similar to or the same as the Loch Ness Monster. The first documented sighting of the Flathead Lake Monster was in 1889. James C. Kerr skippered the U.S. Grant, a lake steamboat that made its rounds in Lake Flathead. On one trip Kerr and his passengers saw what first appeared to be a log or another approaching boat in the water. After coming closer, they realized an unusually large whale-like object was coming toward them in the lake. Frightened, one of the passengers on the steamer pulled out the rifle that he was carrying. He did not kill the creature, but this sighting started the legend of the Flathead Lake Monster. There have been many sightings since, most often reported to have occurred between April and September. One of the strangest accounts was that of a researcher who claimed he had sighted the lake monster in 1985 and again two years later. This is very unusual because it is very rare to see it even once in a lifetime. The average number of sightings is between one and two each year. However, in 1993 alone, there were about thirteen reports. It was clear that weather and lake conditions were not unusual in 1993. However, on May 24, 1993, there was a sighting reported of two monsters together in Big Arm Bay. One was considerably larger than the other and they were thought to possibly be mother and child, or a male and female couple. On July 15, 1993, two sightings occurred, 25 minutes and 15 miles apart. On July 17, 1993, two sightings were made in the same area, but half a day apart. Moreover, on July 13, 1993, off Woods Bay, a bank officer and a district sales manager from Seattle managed to acquire a few seconds of video footage of the monster. The video shows a large, dark shape about 12 feet long just below the surface. One witness stated that he was able to see the monster before the film started rolling and that it had a sturgeon-like head and an eel-like body. There have been more sightings of the monster than this, but the year 1993 proved to be a very significant year in hunting the Flathead Lake Monster. Because of the sightings of two creatures at the same time and the multiple sightings at different locations within a short time, there are theories that there are two different monsters. However, an alternative explanation is that one of the more common fish in the lake, such as a sturgeon, is being mistaken for the monster and that is why multiple people are seeing it. Perhaps the year 1993 was a more common year to spot sturgeons in the lake, and therefore the monster was much more prevalent.

Handmade item Original art Gouache on natural wood slice This is from Drawlloween 2019 Day #12 "Cryptid" I used Mab Grave's prompt list Processing time 3-5 days. If you have any questions, please feel free to send me a message! All artwork is handmade by me. Thank you so much for checking out my shop!!! Domestic Shipping is always fast and free! International buyers contact me for shipping information.

I was born and raised in Michigan in a little lake town right outside of Ann Arbor. From there, I moved to East Lansing to attend Michigan State University and haven’t left the area since. I got my digital start as Lead Content Strategist for sherlockian.net and Managing Editor for agnesfilms.com, which led me to my current position as Digital Managing Editor for Townsquare Media in Lansing. Other facts about me: I love a good cheesy romance novel, am obsessed with my cats, and know way more than I should about planning a vacation to Walt Disney World. Fascinating Bigfoot Reports From All 83 Counties in Michigan When it comes to the United States' favorite cryptid, it seems that Michigan is one of the hotspots for sightings and other encounters. Can You Believe This? Ohio State University Wants to Trademark “THE” Just when you thought Ohio State couldn't get any worse, they go and do something like this. Oh, I'm sorry, THE Ohio State.

Seeking to further disrupt Town Hall health care meetings Republicans have sent in their secret weapon, Manigator! NEW YORK, NY – Fox News stated yesterday that America is not pure since people marry “other species and ethnics.” Mutants around the country are now up in arms. SARASOTA, FL – Jon and Kate Gosselin spent their 10th wedding anniversary apart last week. While Kate played with the children at their Pennsylvania home, Jon was at a bar in Florida, with Manigator. THE EVERGLADES – Elusive cryptid Manigator has found himself in trouble yet again. The half-man half-alligator mutant is listed on DontDateHimGirl.com FORT MYERS, FL – Levi Johnston and Bristol Palin, daughter of Governor Sarah Palin, have broken up. Now Bristol has been spotted with notorious ex-con Manigator. NEW ORLEANS, LA – After an altercation with police Monday night, the half-man half-alligator mutant Manigator has been banned from Tuesday’s Mardi Gras celebrations. VICTORIA, BC – Pro wrestler Chris Jericho was assaulted after a match this weekend. It now seems Manigator, the half-man half-alligator mutant, started the fight. CAPE CORAL, FL – An alligator was found trapped in a manhole, and mischievous mutant Manigator claims he had nothing to do with it. BURLINGTON, VT – Over the holidays, Matt Dillon was arrested for driving 106mph in rural Vermont. His reason for doing so: “Manigator made me do it.” NEW YORK, NY – To welcome in the new year, Weekly World News flew in some of the years biggest shakers and news makers for a holiday party.

Martha: I thought you were going to say he was your secret brother or something. A fan gets Jossed when the elaborate Epileptic Trees or Fanfic that they've lovingly built upon canonical elements is abruptly disproved by further canon or by the Word of God. Named after Joss Whedon; Buffy the Vampire Slayer was notorious for this, as fans would come up with detailed and elaborate theories or plots during summer hiatuses, most of which got completely thrown out within three episodes of the new season. May lead to Fanon Discontinuity when disgruntled Fans prefer their own Fanon to official facts. In extreme cases critics and fans may invoke Death of the Author to preserve their interpretation of events. This trope has two opposites: I Knew It!, where the fan theory is proven to be true by a twist that was planned all along, and Sure Why Not, where the author decides to promote some Fanon elements to Canon status. The inverse of this trope is Shrug of God, where the author refuses to say that one answer is more "correct" than another. Note: In some circles, the term "Jossed" refers to a gutwrenching main character death, which Joss Whedon is also famous for. This definition entered the populace when during a Q&A session at an Australian university, a young Aussie girl noted his tendency to do horrible things to on-screen couples, and to much laughter, said "We call it getting 'Jossed'". Also note: On the Wild Mass Guessing pages, please don't simply post "Jossed" after WMGs that have been disproven. To do so is to create something similar to a Zero Context Example. Add some content about it explaining why, and also consider leaving the "Jossed" off. Anime & Manga - The new OVA-verse Tenchi Muyo! installments jossed many of the assumptions the fanbase had come to hold dear—for instance, that Tenchi's Bumbling Dad Nobuyuki was a Muggles, instead of being in on the Masquerade with Katsuhito/Yosho. Fans tend to ignore the new installment, but usually not because of the Jossing. - Pokémon's been particularly vulnerable to Jossing in later seasons: "Ash will get Buizel" (Dawn does, but Ash does trade for it later), "Ash will get Hippopotas" (nobody does), "Ash will get Shieldon" (same), "Paul is a starting trainer (he's been a trainer as long as Ash has)". - Probably one of the biggest josses for the fandom was the DP episode that finally revealed once and for all that Pikachu is Male, shooting down a lot of fans who assumed the opposite. - A rescent BW episode officially confirmed that pokemon in the anime can only learn 4 moves total. - Mermaid Melody Pichi Pichi Pitch: - Caren, Noel and Coco, upon their return in the middle of season two, will get their own plot arc and be important again. (Jossed by the first episode in which they reappear, in which it is blatantly pointed out that they can't defeat a member of the new Quirky Miniboss Squad to themselves, and have to go be comic relief. They do, however, get a brief shining moment in the manga.) - Lucia and Kaito will get a duet. (Became more and more likely when an extra song called "Birth of Love" was announced on the album. Then it was used in the show... as a new Seira song.) - The Great One is Michal. (Jossed by the episode with Rihito's concert.) - In Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle, almost all the fans were certain that Syaoran was the same Syaoran as in Cardcaptor Sakura, coming off as slightly reluctant to woo his obvious crush because he was already committed to her Alternate Universe-equivalent. Turns out, he isn't CCS Syaoran, but the son of an alternate universe version of CCS Syaoran, using his dad's name and abilities. He's been romancing an alternate universe clone of his mom...and always known about it. Cue the Abandon Shipping of a canon pairing by a decent chunk of the fanbase. - Actually his mother is the reincarnated clone of his girlfriend, which is not as squicky. Just confusing. It's better to just realize that they are both Syaorans and Sakuras in a very twisted world. - This has actually been even further Jossed, in that the theories spawned by finding out who his parents basically are (so to speak. Damn dimensional doubles.) were all wrong. The second Syaoran is actually the son of the clones reincarnated as opposed to the CCS couple, which has quite broken a lot of brains, thankyouverymuch. - In Code Geass, the popular fan theory that Lelouch faked his death at the end of the series has been Jossed in official materials released after the ending, as well as numerous interviews where the entire staff and cast says that he's dead for real. Then for good measure the Official Guide Book mentions it 5 times, and the special edition DVD replaces the entire last scene (which sparked the fan theory in the first place) with a monologue by C.C stating clearly that Lelouch is dead. - Well, not quite. The director has said he personally prefers Shrug of God with regards to this. But, the writer has pronounced him dead. - There were a select few in the fandom who continued to insist that Clovis should rise from the dead. Or more realistically(?) wind up alive for all that time, as a Geass-possessing Big Bad. There was a reason 4Channers rigged that character popularity poll... - One Piece: Boa Hancock being Luffy's mom was a pretty popular theory for a while, even though its only basis was that they sorta looked alike. (in a manga story where young-ish characters kind of look alike anyway.) It got Jossed when she fell in love with him. - This example is probably going to go down in history because of how obsessed fandom was with this theory at some point despite the utter lack of real evidence. Pretty embarrassing for a lot of people in retrospect. - Word of God has recently soundly jossed many theories surrounding Tashigi, including her being blood related to Kuina or her being Kuina brought back to life. Their being twins was an especially popular fandom theory for years, which is why it hasn't quite died yet despite said Word of God and a side story that explicitly showed that Kuina was an only child. - Hellsing. The true species of the Major ( he's a cyborg) was only introduced in the last chapters, and before that he was considered either a vampire or some weird magical human. And then of course in the aforementioned last chapters, almost everybody died. - Naruto Jossed a bunch of theories involving Akatsuki members Itachi, Pain, and Tobi when it turned out that Itachi was a good guy, Pain's true identity is Nagato, and Tobi is both Madara Uchiha and Akatsuki's true leader. Chapter 474 finally Jossed the theory of Danzo being Madara by merit of them facing off against each other. - While, later on in the series, Tobi turns out not to be Madara! - A lot of theories about the bijuu were Jossed with the revelation that they were split from the Ten Tails by the Sage of the Six Paths, and again with the reveal that a bijuu will "die," but reform later if its host is killed. Not to mention Naruto's mother Kushina being the previous Kyuubi jinchuuriki. - Katekyo Hitman Reborn to an extent too because there was Ryohei/Kyoko, Ryohei/Colonello, Ryohei/whoever the hell people liked pairing with him but Amano Jossed everyone by pretty much canoning Ryohei/Hana but saying that'll probably end with a Ship War. Not that many people gave a crap about Ryohei anyway. Amano likes Jossing people a lot seeing as most of her plot points descend from random possibly LSD caused ideas. Or so it would seem... - Tsuna's box animal was also up for debate for a long time until it was pretty much canon'd going against pretty much everyone's ideas. - The 6 real funeral wreaths did anyone honestly guess that Kikyo is the CLOUD guardian??? - In Bleach Kubo Tite Jossed a theory that almost the entire fandom thought to be unquestionable truth: that Ichigo is Kaien's reincarnation. It turned out that Kaien's soul never reincarnated but was trapped in Aaroniero until Rukia freed him. Reactions varied, especially in the shippers' corner where many IchiRuki fans had regarded the theory as the ultimate proof that the pair was destined to be together. (Even though Kaien was married. To someone other than Rukia.) Of course it might have been a hint that while Rukia, Ukitake and Byakuya noticed Ichigo's resemblance to Kaien, Kaien's actual siblings apparently didn't. - Also Jossed was the notion that Ichigo's Bumbling Dad Isshin was nothing more than what he seemed, and thus beyond being able to see spirits there was nothing special about Ichigo until Rukia's power was transferred to him. Most fans just assumed his rapid growth in power was merely the result of him being The Hero in a Shonen series, combined with the unique method used to restore his Shinigami powers when he lost them. But then it was revealed that Isshin is a former Shinigami Captain, who was just pretending to be a moron all along, and thus Ichigo was half-Shinigami from the start (as are his sisters, for that matter), and thus his later experiences largely just unlocked potential that was there all along. - Naturally, this revelation has produced a whole new set of Epileptic Trees that Kubo may or may not Joss in the future. Most notably, the idea that rather than being Kaien's reincarnation, Ichigo is instead his cousin, with Isshin having been a member of the Shiba Clan before leaving Soul Society. Since only one person who actually knew Isshin when he was a Shinigami has seen him in the living world, and that person is explicitly in on the deception, for now it remains a perfectly plausible theory. - It was recently Jossed that Aizen has planned out everything Ichigo has done through the series. This includes not just his fights, but also his first meeting with Rukia that allowed him to become a Shinigami. This has upset many shippers who originally used the tagline that their meeting was destiny, and are wildly denying such a declaration. Even though, Aizen could have easily just mixed up paperwork on purpose, he's Aizen after all. - In regards to this one, it was speculated that Aizen placed the Hogyoku inside Rukia's body a LONG time ago. It was a special favorite of the IchiRuki rabidshippers who thought of it as an evidence that Rukia had the purest soul in Soul Society and thus was the best choice for Ichigo. The reasoning for it also said that her soul being so pure was that her zanpakuto was pure white and considered the most beautiful ice and snow element sword.. When it was ultimately revealed that the Hogyoku was only placed inside Rukia's gigai by Urahara at the end of the first chapter of the manga, the rabid fans either RAGED or went into total denial. - Particularly during the Turn Back the Pendulum flashback arc, theories about Aizen being the ultimate Anti-Hero and him teaming up with Urahara and the Vizards ran wild after the revelation of the Maggot's Nest. Then the conclusion to the arc rolled around revealing that Aizen was the one responsible for the Vizards' condition. - Hunter X Hunter has dropped a Bridget on many fanboys in the form of the Databook. First there was Kurapika, then Karuto, and then there was the whole business of Pitou's gender. - Black Jack: Osamu Tezuka did a second story about Kei/Megumi apparently solely to Joss speculation that she'd spontaneously turned into a man after her hysterectomy and loss of ovaries. - Pretty Cure has had a good few of these: - Futari wa Pretty Cure Splash Star: Some fans believed that Nagisa and Honoka would mentor Saki and Mai, until the two series were cemented as strict alternate continuities. A much crackier theory posited that the girls would eventually fight EVIL BREAD, due to the Hyuuga family's bakery job. Bread was one of the few inanimate objects of any significance that were never turned into a monster during the series. - Yes! Pretty Cure 5: Masuko Mika was thought to be a potential Sixth Ranger by the fanbase for a time, but never made it past comic relief, for the most part. The aforementioned slot ended up going to Milk come next series. - Fresh Pretty Cure: A good number of fans suspected Kaoru-chan, the girls' mysteriously savvy donut vendor friend of being the Kingdom of Sweet's Elder Tiramisu in human form, a theory that more or less went up in smoke around episode 29. Before that, parts of the fanbase insisted that Setsuna, thought to be the unrevealed Cure Passion was either too obvious a candidate for the position, too awesome as a villain, or both; hence, the Akarun was going to be granted to some new girl we'd never met around mid-season, tradition be damned. It went to Setsuna. - Heartcatch Pretty Cure: Tsukikage Yuri/Cure Moonlight was thought to be either dead, captured, or free but smacked with Laser-Guided Amnesia until episode 8, when she was shown to be alive and in full possession of her memories. The Dark Pretty Cure was also thought to be Moonlight's former partner, Cure Sunshine, until Moonlight was cemented as working alone and Sunshine turned up as a brand new Cure. - Suite Pretty Cure: Siren was suspected to be Cure Muse by a good portion of the fandom. The fact that Siren defected from the villains' side and started showing some suspicious behavior right before Muse debuted appeared to clinch this...until both characters appeared in the same scene in episode 13. - A popular theory in Nabari no Ou fandom was that the kitten Yukimi found and named Yoite was Yoite's reincarnation. It was completely jossed in the final chapter when Yoite shows up again and Yukimi goes out of his way to rename the cat "Yoi". - In the Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's fandom it was a popular theory that Z-ONE's true identity was Yusei from the ruined future. Episode 148 even went on a big tease with showing Z-ONE having the same face as Yusei. But instead he turned out to be a random scientist in the future who had genetically modified his body to have Yusei's exact appearance, sans part of the head. Fans were not happy about this. - The final ending of the Non-Serial Movie version of Macross Frontier left most of the fanbase believing (and a warning for fans of the show, this spoiler text is the Mother Of All Spoilers as far as you're concerned) Alto was dead, Sheryl stayed in a coma, and they were basically Together in Death. An interview with Kawamori Jossed this: Alto survived, Sheryl woke up, Happy Ending. - In the end of the first Non-Serial Movie for Slayers, the ancestor of one of the heroes is able to get together with the elf girl he's in love with because of the Time Travel plot Lina creates. However, the creator of the Light Novel series (and the entire franchise) spoke in an interview that the elf and the human ancestor, in the end, didn't wind up together because of the implications of a disturbing Mayfly-December Romance...as in, because elves in this franchise age at half the speed that humans do, then the girl would still be considered a child while the human grows into manhood. - Initially, Zelgadiss speculates whether the priest Rezo is his grandfather or great-grandfather (as he's old to the point that Zelgadiss cannot clearly pinpoint how they're related) and Kanzaka confirmed that he's three generations removed in another interview. However, when the anime was first translated, a mishap caused the fandom to believe that Rezo was both, leaving rumors of incest running amok in Zelgadiss' family. One wouldn't gain the contrary evidence unless they either found a translation of the interviews or read the first translated novel (which used the correct implication). - A great deal of Fairy Tail fanficcers liked (and still like) to claim that Natsu and the rest of the guild would begin to ignore Lucy for some reason when Lisanna was revealed to still be alive. 60+ chapters later, Natsu and Lucy's bond is stronger than ever, and he and Lisanna have said perhaps four or five sentences to each other. - Apparently there was some fanfic of the then-fictional board game "Escape from Zyzzlvaria" invented for a 2002 MIT Mystery Hunt puzzle, written when it was announced the board game would be defictionalized for the 2009 Hunt. When game character "Captain Blastoid" first appeared in the flesh, played by Jennifer Braun, the fic about a male Blastoid was suddenly a Gender Flip. Films -- Live Action - Prior to the release of the Star Wars prequels, it was widely accepted by fans that the Clone Wars were fought by the Republic against an army or armies of clones (after all, wars are usually named according to who the victor fought against, rather than by the nature of the victor's army), and that the Clone Wars happened well before the Empire formed. When the Essential Guides (compendiums of movie and EU knowledge) were revised and republished starting after the release of Episode II, a lot of time was spent retconning the previous versions of the Guides, often with the excuse that in the wake of the Empire's rise, much information was lost or destroyed, and there were some rogue clones. - Much of Boba Fett's EU history was tossed out in the Prequels as well. There is no mention of Mandalorians, and Fett winds up being a clone of his "father". In all fairness, he had in-universe cultivated multiple pasts for himself to increase his mystique. - New EU sources show that Boba's father Jango was in fact a Mandalorian, and also that some of the erroneous information about Boba's past was actually from Jango's life. Other parts come from Boba using Jango's late mentor's name as an alias during his early life, and from a rogue Clone Trooper (who would of course look exactly like Boba under the helmet) being mistaken for him. - Jedi family life! And then the movie implies celibacy, but Lucas Josses that again with a statement in an interview that the Jedi have casual sex and only casual sex. - Even back in the days of the original trilogy there was much fan speculation going around, which was then Jossed by the second and third movies. A somewhat infamous example of this happening to official media is the novel Splinter of the Minds Eye, which was published only a year after the first movie when the possibility of any film sequels was still uncertain. As a result, it has a number of things which may not directly contradict later movies, but at least they are pretty weird when you consider later plot developments. - In Star Wars the term "Star Destroyer" led to some fan speculation that because they are called Star Destroyers, that meant they were destroyer-class vessels, even though they have also been referred to as cruisers, battleships, and dreadnoughts as well, and Darth Vader referred to the Executor as his Star Destroyer in ESB. Eventually, in Starships of the Galaxy Saga Edition, there was a note in the Super Star Destroyer section establishing that Star Destroyer is not really a class of ship in the traditional sense so much as a design philosophy (lots of guns and a dagger shape to be able to point all those guns forward), and that Star Destroyer is meant to be capitalized as to distinguish it from star cruisers, star dreadnoughts, and actual destroyer-class vessels that happen to be starships. - The promotional campaign leading up to the release of Cloverfield was more or less intended to produce Epileptic Trees of all varieties, which it did. Fan speculation identified the monster, unseen in trailers, to be any number of previously established beings - Cthulhu, Godzilla, Voltron, Donkey Kong Jesus Riding on a Puff of Smoke - instead of what it actually was, an immature sea creature that was awakened from dormancy from a falling satellite and became huge after exposure to a soft drink additive. This is not spelled out in the movie, but it's All There in the Manual. Probably... - The film's writer has since stated that the viral marketing (i.e. the "Manual") was created without his input, and possibly without the input of the director, or creator/producer J.J. Abrams. Furthermore, in his opinion, what's in the film is what matters, and no Word of God can Joss anything because each member of the creative team have differing theories. - It is likely that David Lynch's reluctance to confirm or deny anything about the ambiguous aspects of his work is to avoid offending his fans in this way. - In part. Lynch is also an artist, and knowing that art is in the eye of the beholder, the man is truly serious about leaving space for you to fill in details. But not ticking off those that make their own conclusions is no small side benefit, either.. - He has also admitted that sometimes he simply films things that pop into his mind and seem interesting, and doesn't worry so much about explaining them. - It was taken as gospel that the Audi 8 Decepticon in the Transformers Film Series was a reformatted Barricade. However, he was recently revealed as Sideways. - Many theories about Harry Potter have been repeatedly Jossed with the release of each successive book, with The Deathly Hallows Jossing the most. Numerous Fan Fics featuring a female Blaise Zabini got Jossed when The Half-Blood Prince was released. - After the release of Deathly Hallows, a rapid succession of ship-related Jossings ensued when Word of God informed the eager fans that three of their beloved characters ended up with love interests who were not even introduced in the series. This earned a fan nickname of its own: "Getting Rolfed," named after Luna's husband who was introduced in this way. - Also after Deathly Hallows, Rowling even managed to Joss the fanfiction writers who speculated about Dumbledore, particularly his romantic feelings. Given the many bizarre ideas written about him, stunning the fan base with the news he was: 1) gay all along; and 2) smart enough to keep it in his pants and out of the Quibbler was actually the nicest way in the world to snap back at the ficcers. - Not to mention the large section of the fanbase who were convinced that Dumbledore wasn't really dead, despite Jo stating outright that the one thing magic absolutely 'cannot' do is bring people back from the dead. - Not to mention the constant speculation as to what each book would be called. A persistent one was Harry Potter and the Green Flame Torch, a meme originating in a Continuation Fanfic on the Harry Potter Connection which spread across the internet. J.K. Rowling herself memorably sporked the speculation but even today "Green Flame Torch" turns up 86 hits on Fanfiction.net. - One of the most popular theories was Sirius being gay, due to his Ho Yay friendship with Lupin (and, according to the Yaoi Fangirls, the rest of Marauders). When he was pretty much proven as straight by Deathly Hallows, the fans immediately started claiming he might have been bisexual, despite their previous insistence that he only liked men, just men, no girls in the picture, really. - During the Three-Year Summer, one of the few facts known for sure about Harry Potter and The Order of The Phoenix was that Arabella Figg, Harry's apparently Muggle babysitter from the first book, would turn out to be more than she appeared. Naturally, fanfiction assumed that she would play a big part in the story, portraying her usually as a badass Cool Old Lady who becomes the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Some fanfics even Hand Waved her old age, making her a hot Action Girl in a magical disguise. When Phoenix actually came out, it was revealed in the first two chapters that she was a Muggle Born of Mages whom Dumbledore had assigned to keep an eye on Harry. She had a very minor role in the book and was very different in personality from what fans had expected, being a Cloudcuckoolander Maiden Aunt type. In any case, the fanon version of Arabella died a quick death after that. - The most popular Wheel of Time theory was that the Forsaken Demandred was in disguise as Mazrim Taim, the false Dragon who knew how to test to see if a man could channel. There were also other hints that compared the two, but the whole thing was Jossed when Robert Jordan blankly stated that Mazrim Taim was not Demandred. - Aside from that and a few other instances, though, Jordan was notorious for refusing to give straight answers, reputedly because he was amused by the rabid fan discussions on some of the more hotly debated topics. - Even this Word of God Jossing came only after fairly extensive evidence against the Taimandred theory was published in Book 9 - it wasn't enough to convince some. - Every now and then a new reader will connect the dots and come up with the Taimandred theory on their own, prompting agonized groans from every Wo T forum on the web. - In the Dragaera series, a popular fan theory was that Kragar was actually legendary assassin Mario Greymist, even though the author Steven Brust insisted something like "no one is anyone else" which isn't actually true since Sethra Lavode and Kiera the Thief are one and the same. This was jossed in Dzur where Mario makes an appearance. - In a more trivial example, a popular belief that pigs either either didn't exist on Dragaera, or were referred to as "kethna", got shot down in Athyra. - In the latter sense of the word, George R. R. Martin is particularly infamous in his "A Song of Ice and Fire" series for destroying any happy relationships and suddenly and without warning killing off random good/light grey characters, arguably making it the home of the densest population of karma houdinis ever. - In the first book, he destroy's Danaerys Targaryen's first ever happy period by killing off her "Sun-and-Stars," Khal Drogo. - Also in the first book, he kills arguably the nicest guy in the series, Eddard Stark with absolutely no warning. - He continues, deciding to blow up Tyrion's relationship with Shae, goes back in time to reveal that Tyrion's wife, supposedly a whore hired to pop his cherry by his brother, genuinely did love him, knocks off about half of the arguable good guys at the Red Wedding, teased that Davos Seaworth was executed before revealing it to be untrue, has Jeor Mormont murdered, kills off Jon Snow's love interest, kills Qhorin Halfhand, and deliberately leaves fans in a state of agony over whether Jon Snow is dead. It's a big list. - Older Than Steam: Between publication of Book I and Book II of Don Quixote, several novels written by another author featuring the title character were published. In Book II, Cervantes specifically referred to the non-canonical books as being false, going so far as to have the characters in the novel read these alternate stories and deride them as ludicrous inaccuracies. - After the early books in the Twilight series, many fans were asking about the idea of vampire babies, and Stephenie Meyer apparently Jossed this by saying that vampires couldn't get pregnant. Cue outraged claims of outright lies when Breaking Dawn came out and Edward gets Bella pregnant...at which point Meyer calmly points out that her Exact Words were that vampires couldn't get pregnant, and that she had never outright addressed the concept of a male vampire impregnating a human female, instead relying on the fans' own assumptions to keep that plot detail a secret until she was ready to reveal it—turning this into an I Knew It!. - Fans of Hitch Hikers Guide to The Galaxy tried to find hidden meaning in the fact that the Ultimate Answer to Life, The Universe and Everything was "42" while the Ultimate Question was "What do you get when you multiply six by nine?". Some observed that, in Base 13, 6 x 9 is 42. Adams famously responded "I don't write jokes in Base 13". In the same vein, attempts to assign deeper meaning to the number 42 in the first place were Jossed when he said he pretty much picked the number at random, decided it sounded good, and went with it. - However, Stephen Fry stated, possibly jokingly, "Douglas told me in the strictest confidence exactly why 42. The answer is fascinating, extraordinary and, when you think hard about it, completely obvious. Nonetheless amazing for that. Remarkable really. But sadly I cannot share it with anyone and the secret must go with me to the grave. Pity, because it explains so much beyond the books. It really does explain the secret of life, the universe, and everything." - According to a famous anecdote, Hungarian poet Janos Arany once came across the notes a teacher had written about his poems. After reading the phrase "The poet is trying to say..." for the umpteenth time, Arany succinctly wrote on the margin: "The hell I was." - According to Isaac Asimov, when he was in school taking a course on modern literature, a man stood up at the back of the class and to the instructor loudly proclaimed: "That's not at all what was written!" When the teacher asked who the man was, he got the reply: "I'm the author," to which the instructor succinctly answered: "Then your opinion is really irrelevant here." Asimov accepted this in good grace. - During a radio discussion of the popular young children's book The Tiger Who Came To Tea the participants suggested their theories of what the tiger represented - the intrusion of danger into the comfortable world of childhood, that sort of thing. When the author came on she said no, it was just a silly story about a tiger. - Many EU Star Trek novels were Jossed by new movies and the Enterprise series. One memorable example is Federation by Judith and Garfield Reeves-Stevens, which was written mostly from the viewpoint of Zefram Cochrane, as well as Kirk and Picard. For one thing, he's much less of a jerk in this book than in First Contact. The book even included the origin of the Starfleet symbol (a sketch of a warp field by Cochrane). In the book, Cochrane's flight happens before World War Three, which he waits out on Alpha Centauri, while Colonel Greene and his Nazi-like troops attempt to exterminate all non-Optimals. A well-written, emotional novel, casually brushed off in favor of something with the Borg. - William Shatner's own novels dealing with the Mirror Universe had the origin of the split Jossed by the In the Mirror, Darkly episode. This one actually followed the First Contact movie with Cochrane flipping a coin to decide on whether to tell the Vulcans about the Borg. In the Trek 'verse, he doesn't. In the Mirror Universe, he does. They believe him and form a more militaristic union to prepare. It goes downhill from there. - This happens frequently in The Dresden Files fandom, either due to new books or Word of God, and is referred to as "being Butchered." - Ray Bradbury has said of Fahrenheit 451 that, despite the interpretation of nearly everyone, ever, the novel is not about censorship, but the role of television in destroying interest in literature. He walked out of a class at UCLA where the students insisted that the popular interpretation was correct. - Among the Warrior Cats fandom, there was a popular theory that Pinestar was the father of Firestar. However, it jossed on the author's Facebook. Although it doesn't stop people from coming up with the theory... - In the final book of Percy Jackson and The Olympians, a major plot point involves the titular character obtaining the Curse of Achilles which includes one vulnerable spot that feels like a thousand volts of electricity arcing through his body when touched. Don't think for a second that shippers didn't pick up on and make good use of this, all of which got thrown out the window in the sequel series, The Heroes of Olympus, when Percy promptly loses the Curse in the second chapter of the first book that he actually appears in. - In 1893 Sir Arthur Conan Doyle killed off Sherlock Holmes in The Final Problem, and John Kendrick Bangs took this opportunity to write In Pursuit of the House-boat (1897), a fantasy novel in which the detective goes to the afterlife and meets a bunch of famous historical figures. But this fanciful tale of Holmes' post-mortem adventures was rudely jossed when Conan Doyle revealed, in 1903, that the detective had never really gone over the waterfall after all. - A fictional, Older Than Feudalism example: In Lucian's True History, the narrator gets to the Isles of the Blest, and meets, among others, Homer. Homer tells him that everyone's wrong about where he's from (he's actually Babylonian) and that all the lines bracketed as not really Homeric by scholars are, in fact, his. Then the narrator asks why he began the Iliad with the word menis [wrath]: "and he said it came to him that way, without his intending anything." All this pretty clearly meant to make fun of the various theories held by scholars at the time. Live Action TV - Sometimes even official sources get Jossed. An example of this is the online animated Doctor Who story "Scream of the Shalka", starring Richard E. Grant as the Doctor, which was meant to be the official continuation of the series from where the TV movie left off... Until the actual show came back on and totally disregarded it. - Any idea that the new Doctor Who series was a reboot (or that the film was considered discontinuity, making Eccleston the real Eighth Doctor, Tennant the Ninth and so on) was immediately thrown out once Sarah Jane Smith and K-9 appeared and Tennant's Doctor mentions regenerating "half a dozen times" in the same episode. In several episodes, starting with 2007's "Human Nature", McGann's Doctor's face explicitly appears on screen. - Who fans are used to being Jossed by now; the new series in particular takes a perverse pleasure in contradicting Fanon without having violated any actual Canon. The Doctor's references to his family in "The Empty Child", "The Doctor's Daughter", "Fear Her" and "Smith and Jones" have evoked particular Jossing. Even though his granddaughter Susan is introduced in the very first episode of the entire show, many fans maintained that the Doctor was asexual in some way. One uncharitable theory is that the Doctor was retconned this way by his more rabid fans on the principle that if they've never had sex, why should he...? (In one of the Big Finish Doctor Who audios, the Doctor clearly and unequivocally says that he has never been a father, but (a) that's not part of the TV show, (b) the Doctor lies pretty often and (c) the MST3K Mantra is recommended with the sheer amount of writers the show has). - The Doctor's "you watch too much TV" reaction in "The Sound of Drums" to Martha's suggestion that the Master could his brother is a particularly self-aware example, because the fandom had been throwing that idea around for years. - Before The End of Time, many fanfics were written to undo the Fate Worse Than Death forced upon Donna Noble. At the end of Part I it appeared as if she was beginning to remember her time with the Doctor, but this is resolved by the Doctor putting some sort of 'release-valve' in her mind to protect her, and she spends most of Part II unconscious. She never does remember (and apparently there is absolutely nothing that can be done by anyone ever to help her), and now never will since it has been confirmed that her story is over and will never appear in the series again. In effect, everything she was is Deader Than Dead. Number of fanfics Jossed: Too many to number, and they are still being written. - The creators of Lost have specifically shot down the fan theory that the survivors of Oceanic Flight 815 are actually all dead and in a kind of purgatory, despite the belief that this was the only explanation that actually made Season One make any kind of sense. Lingering hopes of this being true have been thoroughly Jossed as the fourth and sixth seasons actually does allow several of the main characters to escape the island and return to the real world. Although in either a Take That or a Shout-Out, one of those returnees "now" holds the theory that he and the other "Oceanic 6" are in fact dead. - Richard hangs a Lampshade on this in "Ab Aeterno", declaring that he, at least, considers the island to be Hell. - Possibly as a lampshade hanging, in season 6, the ghost of Michael reveals to Hurley that the island actually does serve as an instance of purgatory for people who have committed atrocious acts while on the island. The series finale reveals that the Alternate Timeline Los Angeles where the plane didn't crash is really some kind of purgatory. - Star Trek: Enterprise. Nearly every episode went against some bit of fanon, but careful examination reveals the writers never went against canon, with near Magnificent Bastard precision (with the exception of cloaking devices appearing much earlier than previously established). - For example, several well-known alien species are encountered in Enterprise had originally received first contact later in the chronology. The dialogue carefully avoided mentioning the species by name to keep canon intact. - When T'Pol becomes an officer in Starfleet towards the end of the series, many fans cried foul claiming the original Star Trek series established that Spock was the first Vulcan to serve in Starfleet ... until some enterprising (heh) fans took time to watch the entire run of the original series on DVD only to confirm no such reference was ever made on screen, and since Paramount and Gene Roddenberry proclaimed EU sources non-canon, any references to Spock being the first in the novels and other media don't count. - The portrayal of Vulcans in general was perhaps the single biggest source of outrage: some fans took it extremely poorly that Vulcans were portrayed as arrogant, duplicitous, and generally not all that noble, despite the fact that the Vulcans previously seen in the original series, except for Spock and Sarek, showed these same traits. And even Spock and Sarek demonstrated an irrational years-long grudge. - Star Trek: The Next Generation actually did this as well. Between the end of the Original Series in 1969 and the airing of TNG in 1987, the only 'official' stories that came out were the four Star Trek movies. Because demand for Trek remained high, a good number of novels and RPG material were published, and assumed to be canon (or at least close to it,) by the fans. Apparently, Gene Roddenberry was frustrated that creative control had effectively been taken away from him (both in most of the films and the fiction,) and when he re-asserted creative control at the beginning of TNG, he deliberately ignored the corpus of work that had been done and took things in a different direction with TNG. (To be fair, because the Star Trek material had been created in a highly decentralized manner by numerous authors, there tended to be discontinuities in the material anyway.) - The strange thing is that Roddenberry added The Animated Series to his non-canon list, even though he was involved in its production, it had all of the original cast except Chekov, shared story editors, screenwriters, and directors with the live-action series, and even has the same guest stars. If that's not Star Trek, what is? - In Heroes, it was something of a no brainer (so to speak) that Sylar ate the brains of his victims. He makes frequent use of Evil Tastes Good dialogue, and Word of God itself stated that he was originally supposed to eat the brains, but they couldn't figure out a way to show it on-screen without being silly. And yet brain-eating is explicitly Jossed in a very funny scene in the first episode of Season 3. Claire: Are you going to eat it? - This occasionally happens in Power Rangers. The problem is that much of the info comes from casting scripts or pre-season profiles; this info has been repeatedly wrong and/or changed when the show begins airing since 2002, but the fans keep using it as source material for fic. - The theory that Chloe might change her name to become "Lois Lane" later in life was pretty thoroughly Jossed when the actual Lois Lane showed up in season 4 (and several times afterwards by word of God). - When Jor-El's voice began telling Clark that it was his destiny to rule the people of Earth with strength, fans believed either General Zod was Clark's biological father, or that Zod had somehow intercepted the ship and placed a message inside. This was jossed by the powers that be who assured fans that Jor-El was still Clark's father. - In the 2003 remake of Battlestar Galactica, one episode revealed that there was originally a number 7 Cylon named Daniel, but Cavil destroyed them all. The fanbase went wild with Epileptic Trees over this, saying that Daniel was Starbuck's father, Starbuck herself, any or all of the imaginary friends, the thirteenth lord of Kobol, etc. Then Word of God said that no, Daniel is not Starbuck's father, will not play any part in the finale, and was only created to explain why there was no number 7, while adding to Cavil's evil backstory to boot. - Buffy the Vampire Slayer: the possible trope namer is the fandom reaction to the season 5 revelation that Drusilla sired Spike. Until this point, it was assumed that Angelus siring Spike was canon (what with Spike outright referring to Angel as his sire at least twice); suddenly almost all existing Fanged Four and Angel/Spike fics were 'Jossed'. The explanation is that "sire" can refer to any vampiric ancestor, not just the direct one. Angel sired Drusilla, so is Spike's sire - and did indeed have a mentor relationship with him, which isn't always the case. - A popular fan theory about Firefly's Shepherd Book was that he had spent time as an Operative. This has been Jossed by the Shepherd's Tale comic, which reveals that he was at one point high-ranking Alliance commander, but was working as a spy for the Browncoats the whole time. Before that he was a streetkid named Henry Evans, who joined the Independent movement to get off his homeworld. - The Skins fan theory that Effy was going to be the character who died at the end of Series 4, her mental illness Driving Her To Suicide. Instead, it was Freddie, in a plot twist so ridiculous it could have come straight out of the Whedon playbook. - Supernatural. Throughout the entirety of Season 3, fans were convinced Sam and Dean would find a way to free Dean from his deal. They didn't. - There are several examples of this in Supernatural, most often accompanied by a fan cry of 'I can't believe they actually went there!'. See Sam sleeping with Ruby and drinking her blood (both heavily debated, but many fans were convinced he Would Never) Sam breaking the final seal and defeating Lucifer, Dean not saying 'yes' to Michael, Sam saying 'yes' to Lucifer, and the list goes on.... Especially notable as Supernatural frequently managed to create some spectacular fandom explosions whenever they Jossed the fans. - Throughout much of S5 many fans believed pagan gods might ally themselves with - or in some way offer assistance to - the Winchesters. This was Jossed not once, but twice, first with Paris Hilton's self-obssessed forest god, and then with the council of pagan gods who determined the best way to avert the apocalypse would be to kill the Winchesters. On the other hand, fans were vindicated in believing the Trickster/Gabriel would become an ally, they just never quite guessed how it would work out. - A week of Brevity (starting here) focused on the life cycle of a couple. Readers following the sequence theorized that this is from the point of view of the tree in the background. However, the final strip revealed that the POV was actually from the benches the couple were sitting on throughout the sequence. - The first Kingdom Hearts game probably inspired many theories about Ansem that were invalidated by Kingdom Hearts II. Theories about "Unknown" from Final Mix and the knights from the second game's secret ending were also invalidated. - There was also quite a bit of speculation about Roxas, known only as the "Blond-Haired Kid", or BHK, after a few previews of Kingdom Hearts II were released. Many theories were in the correct vein, but as Roxas is linked to a group of people who were never mentioned at all in the first game, it was virtually impossible for anyone to guess his true identity. It got easier to pin "BHK" post-Chain of Memories. However, people had no clue how to take DiZ, with the common theory having him as the "Superior" of the Organization and Ansem's Nobody. - The fourth installment in the series, 358/2 Days, tossed a mysterious new Kairi lookalike into the events concurrent to Chain of Memories and preceding Kingdom Hearts II. There were many theories that attempted to explain who she was and why she was never mentioned before, a fairly common one being she was Kairi's Unversed (Before the fandom really knew what an Unversed was) It turned out that she was in fact a Replica infused with Sora's memories. - A fairly minor one, it was the general fandom consensus that all Nobodies looked different, such as having a different hair color, and had a different voice than their "Other", like Roxas, Namine and Xemnas did. Then Birth By Sleep rolled around and we see the "Others" of Xigbar, Xaldin, Vexen, Lexeaus, Zexion, Saix, and Axel, and, while the latter three were kids at the time, they all looked and sounded exactly like their Nobodies. It should be pointed out that Roxas, Namine and Xemnas aren't "typical" Nobodies - Devil May Cry 4 inspired a lot of fan-thought that Nero was Sparda or Vergil reincarnate, or that his Devil Bringer arm held either spirit, and would be possessed by them. Unfortunately, neither showed up in the game. Also, Dante's seemingly uncharacteristic assassination of Order leader Sanctus at the game's start inspired much speculation about his motives and whether he had pulled a Face Heel Turn. It was eventually revealed that he was pulling a Shoot the Dog and trying to kill the game's Big Bad. - As a point of interest: while not confirmed, Nero's link to Vergil is still hinted at quite a lot in the game. He wields the Yamato katana—Vergil's weapon in Devil May Cry 3—and in Devil Trigger form, he is overshadowed by a demonic spirit that resembles Vergil's own Devil Trigger. Demonic Possession isn't off the table just yet. - Not to mention that the Crystal Dragon Pope explicitly stated that Nero carries the blood of Sparda. - There is an interview where a member of the staff said that Nero is actually the son of Vergil - Prior to Halo 3, Halo fans began concocting elaborate theories regarding the Forerunners' relationship to humanity and the Flood, Cortana's "ulterior motives" and what the Prophet of Truth's motivations were for wiping out the Elites. Turns out, the Forerunner simply encountered and fought the Flood, humans happened to be one of countless species the Forerunner preserved in the Ark, Cortana is always on the good guys' side, and Truth is simply a religious zealot who believed the Elites weren't faithful to the Covenant's religion. - Then that was revealed to be only part of the story. Humanity, the Prophets and the Forerunners have a history going back 200,000 years. Humanity and the Prophets (they were, at the time, allies) first encountered the Flood and cured it. However, during the Human/Prophet - Flood War, humanity attacked several Forerunner worlds to make up for lost planets. The Forerunners kicked their asses, stranding them on their homeworlds and committing alot of genocide to do so. Then the Flood came back, and the Forerunner - Flood War began. Oh, and the Halos weren't built to stop the Flood. They were built to suppress rebellion. A "low" setting sterilizes a population. This all sounds like an Ass Pull, but it isn't. In 2000, supplementary materials on halo.xbox.com said that humanity found human populations on worlds that humanity had never, ever, ever been to. The Forerunners must not have been very good at wiping us out. - After countless Chrono Trigger fanfics about the mystery behind Schala, Chrono Cross comes along with a conclusive answer, making many of them obsolete. - Then the DS remake of Trigger Jossed even more fan theories with its new ending. - After years of speculation surrounding the Mega Man series (namely, that Zero went berserk and killed the original cast), Keiji Inafune casually dismissed the theory in a question and answer session, offhandedly stating that "it was not in Zero's character." Jossed. - The ambiguous ending to Final Fantasy VII, set 500 years into the future, deliberately refused to answer whether or not humanity had survived the clash between Meteor, Holy, and the Lifestream. Then along came the Compilation (some say Complication) of Final Fantasy VII, which continued the story only a few years after said event. - Crisis Core pretty much Jossed everyone's fanfictions. Especially Zack/Cloud ones. Since turns out Cloud was not as emo as they wanted to believe. And Zack didn't meet him by saving him from bullies either...Angeal also served as a tool for Jossing too since...well...he was never even referred to until he showed up in CC thus everyone had to assume Zack randomly got the Buster Sword which...Isn't true. - The FFVII Ultimania Guides: where fanon goes to die. These publications put paid to a lot of popular fan theories. - Pre-release materials for Banjo-Kazooie: Nuts & Bolts revealed the Lord of Games (L.O.G) and his role in the story, where he settles Grunty and Banjo's conflict with a contest. Some people didn't simply see L.O.G as a facilitator, and begin to speculate that Grunty might be a Disc One Final Boss, with L.O.G being the True Final Boss plotting an Evil Plan against Banjo. Later, Rare opened Facebook accounts for some of the game's characters for fans to post some questions to their walls for a limited time, with L.O.G himself among them. This gave the Banjo theorists the chance to direct their accusations to L.O.G before the game is released. His response? "What's all this talk of evil? I may be occasionally fallible and self-indulgent -- or so I'm told -- but I certainly wouldn't describe myself as evil." - Final Fantasy in general has been Jossing a lot of fan theories and fanfics since Squeenix finally started making sequels and spin-offs set in the worlds of the individual games. Apart from the Compilation of FFVII, there are also the sequels to Final Fantasy X and Final Fantasy IV. On an equally annoying level, there are also the Japanese-only Ultimania information books, which often contain details, histories, and character backstories that aren't even remotely hinted at in the games, some of which would look like outrageous Epileptic Trees if they had been fan theories. - Despite heavy hints to the positive, the theory of the Wrecked Ship in Super Metroid and the Pirate Mothership in Metroid Zero Mission being the same was Jossed by Zero Mission's director not long after people started espousing it. - It's not exactly the same, but pretty much any update Kevan applies to Urban Dead tends to fly in the face of every one of the regular's beliefs about the game. - Any popular fan theory on Umineko no Naku Koro ni usually gets Jossed the very next episode, or is confirmed the next episode. - An example of this is the Kinzo is already dead theory, which was initially planned to be confirmed in episode 5, but was instead revealed in episode 4 because it became so popular after episode 3. - The reason for this is that Ryukishi07 is, reportedly, often looking at online forums to find out the current popular theories, just to have them either confirmed, played with or flat out crushed in the next episode. - Nintendo seems to take an almost vindictive glee in contradicting the Fanon that was established for the Super Mario Bros. series during those long years when the plots of the games were strictly Save the Princess affairs. The very first Mario game with an actual plot (Yoshi's Island) creates an origin story for the Mario Bros. that places their birth in the Mushroom Kingdom - retconning Donkey Kong, Mario Bros, and Super Mario Bros, which collectively state they were born in Brooklyn and got to the Mushroom Kingdom through a warp pipe. It also makes them twins, even though Mario was usually held as being the older brother by years rather than by minutes. But probably the most callous example to the fandom is Shigeru Miyamoto himself saying that Mario's full name is not "Mario Mario" (and refusing to disclose their "real" surname). - This likely wasn't an intentional jossing though, Miyamoto famously doesn't care about plot, so it's dubious he or anyone on the team were aware of any Fanon. - Many fans of Half-Life believed that the G-Man was in fact Black Mesa's administrator, which was a reasonable assumption in the interim before the sequel, but was Jossed when the Administrator, now named Wallace Breen, appeared as the principle antagonist of Half-Life 2. The G-Man turned out to have an entirely separate backstory. - Similarly, Portal fans accepted Portal: Prelude, a third-party mod revolving around Aperture's backstory, as canon, until Valve laughed at their faces by proposing their own entirely new canon (which happened to also contradict their own previously made canon, but that is an entirely different story). - Ah, King of Fighters 2000. With that oh-so-tragic ending where Heidern laments a city being wiped off the map. Wait a minute...Southtown has been destroyed! What an incredibly bold move by SNK! The city that all but defined this tournament, gone, just like that! Wait a minute, are you sure it was Southtown? It had to be Southtown! Yes, it was Southtown! But they'd never...could they...yes! No! It's definitely Southtown, yes, 100% sure, no other possibility! Well, you can imagine the crushing disappointment when later games make it plainly obvious that Southtown wasn't destroyed. Even worse, we never find out which city it supposedly was and the incident is never mentioned again. Of course, you could've predicted this if you remembered that the freaking EDIT TEAM ending has never been canon in any KOF, ever. - Resident Evil 3: Nemesis would count. After several novels from S.D. Perry, Nemesis seemed planned to contradict what she wrote as much as possible. Indeed, her edition of the story comes with an author's note stating the continuity errors between book and game. As it is, Nemesis is rather faithful to the source material, if using the non canon ending. - Any Metal Gear game after Metal Gear Solid 1, take your pick. - The Wild Card ending of Fallout: New Vegas brought about many theories of the Yes Man A.I. turning against the player due to a mention of finding an upgrade that lets him be more "Assertive". However, when asked about this lead developer J.E. Sawyer stated that the upgrade was meant to ensure that Yes Man doesn't need to be monitored 24/7 and will only follow the Courier's orders, preventing someone else from hijacking the Courier's seat of power. - The fan theories of Fallout: New Vegas in general are particularly prone to being Jossed, since Sawyer keeps an active formspring account and readily answers most questions. - Hyrule Historia, a book released in 2011 as part of the 25th anniversary of The Legend of Zelda, debunked practically all timeline theories that placed the earlier 2D games (from the original to Link's Awakening, plus the Oracle games) either in the Adult Timeline or the Child Timeline of the series' overall chronology, instead placing them in a third timeline that, like the other two, has its roots in the ending of Ocarina of Time. On the positive side, the book also confirmed lots of other theories, as well as previously ambiguous or unconfirmed stuff. - A lot of English-speaking Hatoful Boyfriend fans theorised that Nageki was actually a human, but his ghost had taken the form of a mourning dove for totemic-type reasons, hence his confusion over what and who he is, and why Hiyoko is surprised to see a mourning dove in Japan. He also talks a lot about being bullied and tells Hiyoko that if you want to kill yourself, jumping out of the library window is a good way to go, implying he committed suicide because of bullying by jumping out of the window. In the full version, it's confirmed that he really was a bird, and the way in which he died and his reason for killing himself is explored in detail and something no-one could have predicted. - In Abstract Gender, many fan theories to the big conspiracy involved William Montgomery being somehow linked to the scientists. This was completely thrown out during the seventh and final chapter "Gods" where he gets transformed too, complete with a mind wipe and new personality as well. - In the Gunnerkrigg Court fandom, the two most popular theories about the identity of the third girl from the photo (that she's a relative of Gamma's, and that she's a young Jones) were immediately Jossed by the author on the forum. Since most of the fans don't hang out on the forum, these theories remained popular, until The Rant below this page put them to rest in the bluntest way possible. Also parodied in the rant on this page. The first three theories that Tom facetiously shot down were Shout Outs to to actual Epileptic Trees from the fandom. - Rich Burlew, the author of The Order of the Stick, tends to do this with many fan theories, such as Miko being zombified by Xykon, the results of a misfired poison arrow, and whether Belkar's prophecy had come true. From the FAQ: "In fact, I try not to read anything where people suggest upcoming plot ideas because I hate it when people guess what is going to happen. I feel the uncontrollable urge to change what happens, just to prove them wrong. Petty? Probably." - The popular fan theory that the world of The Order of the Stick was an actual campaign was Jossed in strip # 606. Shojo: No, the wisdom is simply this: Play the game. - A Double Subversion of Jossing occurred with the theory that Elan's father is Lord Tyrinar, the warlord who had Haley's father imprisoned. The first strips where Tarquin appeared had him as a general who'd lost his empire long before; but it was eventually revealed that he was the man behind the throne of an empire that had gone through several figurehead rulers and names – including Tyrinaria – and Ian Starshine was one of the prisoners Roy befriended in the Empire's prisons. Tyrinar turned out to be just one of the figureheads, and dead in the present time of the comic. - El Goonish Shive author, Dan Shive, has done this too many times to count. - The author of Keychain of Creation has a neat way about handling this. He insists, constantly, that every single epileptic tree is completely true, as sincerely as possible—no matter what context: IM, forum, in actual discussion... He insists they are always correct, so that in the end, everyone, including him, is proven wrong. - Following Black Belt's death in Eight Bit Theater, many fans clamored for his return and pointed out that this could be accomplished by de-petrifying his stone doppleganger. Clevinger responded by having White Mage attempt exactly that, and botch it horribly. The page where this happens is even titled, "Now Shut Up". - The Metal Gear Solid webcomic The Last Days of Foxhound has been so thoroughly and consistently Jossed—after each new game release since the series began—about so many things, from the manner in which one character lost an eye to his very state of existence—necessitating massive, unconvincing retcons that even the characters find sketchy—that you could make a convincing argument for changing the name of this trope to "Kojima'd!" (The apostrophe and exclamation mark are mandatory.) Not that this is Complaining About Shows You Don't Like, however. The author is aware of this phenomena, and generally does a good job of covering it up. In one of his last blog posts, he says "if I'm lucky, I can be done before MGS4 is released and my entire backstory is contradicted. Again." He was, and it was. Again. What's even more ironic is that the comic ended just under two weeks before MGS4's release. - Despite attempts to reasonably, albeit comically, tie into the storyline of Half-Life, the comic Concerned was pre-Jossed when their depiction of the delivery of the Xen Borderworld sample was already undone by Half-Life: Decay. - Randy Milholland seems to love to do this to his fans in Something*Positive. In fact, it could be said the only thing more enjoyable to him than not giving the fans what they want is giving them what they explicitly don't. "Dont Give Him Any Ideas" is uttered regularly on feed commentaries. - An example: Pepito was originally going to live through the "insane catgirl massacre" storyline. Then somebody sent Milholland a letter saying he wasn't "allowed" to kill any of the characters. "Not even Pepito." - While Andrew Hussie of MS Paint Adventures is usually very permissive of off-the-wall speculation, he sometimes feels the need to correct egregiously wrong interpretations. For instance, he has made it very clear that, in Homestuck, Jade's Grampa was Dead All Along, Kanaya is a lesbian, and, most of all, WV IS NOT AN IMP. - When the Alpha Kids were first introduced there was a lot of speculation about what then unnamed Dirk and Roxy's personalities would be. The most common theory for Roxy was that she would be a scenester-esque Bottle Fairy. Even more popularly, Dirk was theorised to be a loser anime fanboy with the Fan Nickname "Weeabro". Roxy's character turned out to be pretty close, though only on a superficial level as Roxy is also a passionate scientist and very kind friend. Dirk's did not, and Andrew expressed great distaste for the theory. - Homestuck's Jossed WMG pages are far bigger than the confirmed and active theory pages; so much so there are multiple pages because all of them on one page was breaking browsers. This is pretty much because Hussie encourages a lot of speculation. - Here's an actual example of Joss jossing something: less than a week after fans announced the Doctor Horribles Sing Along Blog prequel "Horrible Turn", Joss announced a prequel comic book that appears to be covering the same topics (meeting Captain Hammer, turning evil, etc.). - For a while, it was thought that the anthropomorphic animals in Darwin's Soldiers were originally humans turned into animals via advanced technology. Word of God states [dead link] that the anthropomorphic animals were merely "there" alongside humans. - Common fan theories insinuate that Bonkers was created as a substitute for a Roger Rabbit cartoon that was never made due to legal and copyright issues surrounding Roger. Greg Weisman, who helped develop Bonkers and other other notable Disney shows, says that Bonkers was certainly INSPIRED by Roger, but Disney never had any plans to make a Roger Rabbit cartoon at any point. - Avatar: The Last Airbender: - Dungeons & Dragons: All widely accepted Epileptic Trees jossed with the release of the script of the unaired finale. The kids did not die in a rollercoaster crash, they are not in Hell, and Dungeon Master is not Satan. - During the first two seasons the Transformers Animated fandom came up with a number of theories as to the isolated, motherless Sari's actual identity, the most popular being some variation of Sari actually being a robot or cyborg created by Professor Sumdac, possibly made by reverse-engineering Megatron. During the second season finale Sari injured her elbow, revealing circuitry underneath her skin, which seemed to support this idea. However, while the theory was right about Sari's true nature, it wasn't entirely correct about her origins. Sari wasn't constructed by Sumdac or made from Megatron's parts, she was a technorganic protoform created by the Allspark using Sumdac's DNA. - Also that Ironhide was The Mole, which came up in the first case becauseof a screwup involving faction symbols. - Literally hundreds of Teen Titans fanfics about Terra's resurrection were written in the interim between the end of season two and the series finale "Things Change". When it was revealed that Terra is alive as a schoolgirl who may or may not remember everything that happened to her in season two, and just wants to live as a normal girl, 99.9% of these fanfics were Jossed. Fans were left with two choices for future Terra resurrection Fanfic: write according to the new, official continuity, or ignore the last episode entirely and write Fix Fic about how Terra should have been resurrected. - A lot of fanfiction for The Secret Saturdays has now been Jossed because we now know the reason behind Zak's cryptid powers he has cryptid powers because he's Kur. Also, most fanfictions related to the actual plot of the show have been Jossed because of the end of the latest episode when we find out that Zak is Kur, which resolved the story arc with a surprise ending. - Due to having so much Word of God around, this has happened many times in regard to Gargoyles on issues such as gargoyle customs and breeding habits, Elisa and Goliath's ability to reproduce, Lexington's sexuality, Katana's physical appearance, etc. Looking at older fanfics can sometimes be a very strange experience... - After seeing Captain Marvel appear in Justice League Unlimited, supporting Lex Luthor's presidential campaign and then giving a bone chilling speech to his fellow leaguers, many fans of the show believed he would return as an unwitting tool of Luthor. This was jossed by...well, him not coming back. - Due to the creators of Phineas and Ferb refusal to discuss it, there are many theories regarding the whereabouts of the original parents of the characters, including the popular one that Doofenshmirtz is Phineas' father. In the episode "What Do it Do?" it was shown that Doof did go on one date with Linda Flynn, but they never went out again (although she supposedly was what convinced him to conquer the Tri-State Area). In a New York Times P&F panel, Dan and Jeff addressed one of those points, finally stating that, no, Doof is not Phineas' father. - For a couple of weeks, it was fanon among My Little Pony Friendship Is Magic fans that Scootaloo was the sister of Rainbow Dash. It made a bit of sense: Scoot is part of a Power Trio, and the two other members are younger sisters of members of the main cast. Since Scootaloo is a pegasus, and it had already been established that she was not Fluttershy's sister, that left Dash as the only other potential sister (not to mention that the two have similar personalities and even looks). Creator Lauren Faust, though, insisted on her blog that Dash and Scootaloo are not related at all, though she hinted that they will form a friendship in the near future and it quickly became clear in subsequent episodes that Scootaloo idolizes Rainbow Dash. - And in season 3's "Sleepless in Ponyville", Rainbow Dash officially offers to mentor Scootaloo and act as an honorary big sister. - It has also been confirmed that Pinkie Pie was not meant to be a Fourth Wall Observer, and that all the times she looked into the camera were animation mistakes where she was actually looking at someone else. The ability to break the fourth wall was never discussed by the writers, at least during meetings. However, this does not account for the times she directly communicated her excitement to the audience at the end of the second episode or physically interacting with the Iris Out (seen here) at the end of "Over a Barrel." (Also, subsequent instances of apparent Breaking the Fourth Wall may indicate that the ongoing popularity within the fandom of interpreting Pinkie Pie as being aware of the fourth wall may well have led to the production team choosing to adopt this stance themselves.) - Princess Luna's return and subsequent official characterization has invalidated a great deal of fan interpretation. Most fan writers and artists nailed her social awkwardness, but few guessed she'd be just as hammy as Nightmare Moon. - She also demonstrates a bit of a prankster streak, something usually attributed to Celestia (or Trollestia) in fics involving the two - often with Luna as the Butt Monkey. Of course, we still haven't seen the two directly talk to each other (minus their brief reconciliation at the beginning of Season 1 and a handful of one-sided exchanges in "A Canterlot Wedding"), so fan theories on how they'd interact in day-to-day situations currently remain safe. - The first week of November, 2011 had significant amounts of Fanon Jossed. First, a new blind bag wave was released which contains mostly background ponies from the show. None of the five whose toy names had become well-known had their Fan Nicknames, which caused heated debates about which names to call them by - the old and established Fan Nicknames or the brand-new toy names whose likes have been rendered obsolete by Canon in two other blind bag ponies' cases. The good news for them is that the newest wave of blind bags states those official names as second names, making some fan interpretations canon. For example, fan name "Lyra" + old official name "Heartstrings" = new official name "Lyra Heartstrings." - Also, Lauren Faust revealed more of the actual backstory of Nightmare Moon and how she was banished here. Much of it invalidates the common fanon interpretation of Luna as basically the victim of Celestia in the whole affair. Different from many other forms of Jossing in that Faust points out that since it was never stated in the show, it isn't really canon - thus, it is perfectly possible for the current crew to contradict it. - The season 4 opener shows us a flashback to Nightmare Moon's banishment in canon, however, and its clearly framed as a desperate last resort by a grieving Celestia against someone who is completely maddened and out of control. - Fanon usually presents Luna and Celestia as the only "alicorns" in Equestria. "A Canterlot Wedding" revolves around Twilight's older brother getting married to Celestia's niece, an alicorn. She was apparently not originally designed as such when Lauren Faust worked on the story. - The popular background pony DJ Pon-3's eyes have been almost universally depicted as red in fanon, but a tiny split-second shot in "A Canterlot Wedding" showed them as being magenta. Fans of her red eyes look quickly scrambled to offer justifications such as; the light making them look different (the split-second in question in which her eyes are revealed took place in shadow), to wearing contacts, to having magical eyes that can change color depending on which one she thinks looks coolest on the given day (to be fair, she is a magical unicorn). - Fans swore Family Guy Presents Laugh It Up Fuzzball used Rotoscoping for certain scenes from the Star Wars movies, but the people who made it insisted they just were really precise about recreating the scenes. - Word of God says that Henry and June are only like brother and sister and neither have feelings for each other in any direction, which breaks the fanon that's been going on since the show premiered. - Real Life does this to you all the time. - The Trio found his room with Gryffindor banners and female Muggle pin-ups, and Sirius probably wouldn't have hid the fact that he liked men. Heck, he probably would've hid the girly pics and posted nothing but the men, just to screw with his conservative (by Wizarding standards) family.

Although you may all be my hellions, there’s a special level of hell you can find only on Patreon. Why would you want to descend deeper into the pits? First, Patreon hellions get to read, be a part of, and vote on the weekly novel, CLASH OF THE CRYPTIDS. Join now and catch up on the story and find yourself IN this exclusive tale of murderous cryptids. Now, on to number two of why you should become a patron. You’ll get FREE BOOKS, sometimes before they’re even available for the public! For instance, this month, my Patreon hellions are given the chance to receive a free copy of Rattus New Yorkus a month before its publication date. Cool stuff like that pops up all the time on Patreon. Third, you’ll also get access to Patreon-only deals on signed print books. If you were a Patron this past week, you would have gotten a special deal to purchase a signed, discount copy of MAIL ORDER MASSACRES. And there’s plenty more to come. Last but not least, you’ll be part of a pretty awesome community of like minded lunatics who all have a passion for horror. So what are you waiting for? Bigfoot battling Chupacabras to the death! The Jersey Devil squaring off in an aerial fight with Thunderbirds! Mongolian Death Worms rising from the earth to swallow up Mothman! Dover Demons running rampant! Loch Ness Monsters bursting from the Loch to devour villages! The world is overrun with monsters, and only a select few can stop the madness. Imagine all of that and so much more. Welcome to my Patreon exclusive choose your adventure monthly serial, CLASH OF THE CRYPTIDS! Starting in September, we’re going to make history together with the first ever choose your adventure horror novel. CLASH OF THE CRYPTIDS will feature returning characters from my past books, including : Rooster Murphy (Swamp Monster Massacre) Nick Brogna (The Dover Demon) Natalie & Austin McQueen, and Henrik Kooper (Loch Ness Revenge, Savage Jungle) The Willet clan and Norm Cranston (The Jersey Devil) Dalton Gray (The Montauk Monster) And a few more surprise guests. For just $1 a month, you not only get to read each monthly installment, but vote on where the next chapter will take us. A poll will be posted after each chapter and YOU DECIDE the next chapter. For $3 a month, you’ll also be a character that will eventually become cryptid chow. Monsters gotta eat! For $5 a month, you’ll receive a print edition of the book when it’s complete. And all pledge levels get other exclusive access and behind the scenes peeks into my insane life. So, if you want to be part of cryptid history, visit Patreon today and become a true blue Hellion. We’re taking the cryptid mania right to 11. Special shout out goes to Jerry Mulcahy for designing some of the best damn artwork for this beast of a book! Strap in folks. The world’s about to get a whole lot more interesting.

Very soon, Bigfoot sightings in Oklahoma may go up with the filming of a new movie called “The Kiamichi Project.” Now in pre-production, with the signing of its primary character to portray Sasquatch, it’s just a matter of motion for Rod High, president and CEO of Phoenix, Ariz.-based High Entertainment. He is the producer and screenwriter for the film. Filming is planned for Southeastern Oklahoma. “It’s in the development stage,” he said. “We do want to start filming as soon as possible.” The movie is about the hunt for Sasquatch, or Bigfoot, by a cryptozoologist who is also a former Green Beret, for the killer beast that may have killed her sister. During the hunt, things turn deadly when it’s realized this particular ‘squatch is also under control of the U.S. government. It’s pop culture sci-fi fare that should be a lot of fun. That’s how High hopes it’s received. He tapped noted actress Meg Foster (“The Scarlet Letter,” “Lords of Salem,” “31” and dozens more) for the role of the hunter about two years ago. Most recently, actor/pro wrestler Nathan Jones (“Mad Max,” “Troy” and others) has signed on to step his 6-foot, 11-inch strongman’s physique into the vaunted role of the killer Sasquatch. He said being in a film that mixes the genres of action, horror, and fantasy into a gripping tale of revenge is the right fit. He hopes his role will become one considered a classic. “For me, I love action roles, and I’m well suited for it. But who doesn’t like scaring others as well? If you can combine the two, all the better. They go hand-in-hand,” Jones said in a statement from his home in Queensland. “When I think of action horror films, ‘Alien’ stands out in my mind. It’s one of my favorite creature features of all time. They established the creature so strongly, every time it came into play, it put you on the edge of your seat.” High called Jones’ character the “ultimate evil villain.” “Nathan is an amazing actor and a great guy,” he said. “His role is pivotal to the entire movie, and we’re just so lucky to get him onboard.” When asked about practical effects with actors versus CGI in creating the mythic creatures in “The Kiamichi Project,” Jones said a combination gives audiences (and actors) the best of both worlds. “They both have their strengths and weaknesses, advantages/disadvantages, which is why it’s a good idea to use both aspects that the director feels will make the film shine,” Jones said. “If you have the budget and no constraints to limit your creativity, by all means let her rip.” High said the project has really gained traction since late 2019. He’s been reaching out to people in the industry from the Oklahoma City area, including Ben Richardson as line producer. “We want to get a director on board; it won’t take that long,” he said. “We really want to get down there and start shooting.” The rebate program from the Oklahoma Film Office has proven attractive to High. He said it offers incentives along with connections to the right people to get it done. Originally from North Carolina, High moved to Phoenix 15 years ago to be closer to Los Angeles, Calif., where he could be connected for screenwriting projects. “The Kiamichi Project” is one of three of his scripts to be optioned. The subject of Sasquatch is one dear to High’s heart. As a kid, he had an interest in Sasquatch and the Loch Ness Monster as well as other cryptozoological subjects he learned about from Leonard Nimoy’s series “In Search of …” that ran from 1977 to 1982. Cryptozoology is considered a pseudoscience and subculture that tries to prove the existence of entities from the folklore record, referred to as cryptids. “The Bigfoot episode I kind of latched onto,” he said. “’The Six Million Dollar Man’ had a couple of episodes featuring Bigfoot characters that kind of sucked me in a little bit.” As he began developing the story, High said he started looking into the Abominable Chicken Man sightings at a farm west of El Reno in the 1960s. That led him to look at Oklahoma’s connection with ‘squatch lore. The state is rife with variations of the iconic cryptid. Caddo County has its own bigfoot with the name of Babu. Known to frequent the region from the Kiamichi Mountains westward to the Rainy Mountain areas, Babu is a noted part of Native American folklore from those who settled those areas. It’s this range of stories that lured High’s interest. “When I was doing the research for the project, being in kind of a unique place for the Sasquatch creature, the sightings and stuff, it’s kind of unique,” he said of the state. Research led to his discovery of the Hanobia Bigfoot Festival in the Kiamich Mountains of Southeast Oklahoma. The next one is scheduled for Oct. 2 and 3 at the Kiamichi Mountain Mission Campgrounds. High said he hopes to incorporate it into the film. High said that a trailer to preview the unfolding story of “The Kiamichi Project” is readying to be made and there are talks with a “notable actor” providing the voiceover. Although the film script has been optioned a couple of times, financing fell through. But High believes the time is now for the momentum to pick up. Interest has been shown through the production’s postings to Facebook and he believes the world is ready for this story to be told. “It’s a very long process,” he said. “It can take years and years and years. But I think we’re going to be on our way soon.”

In his 13th Small Town Monster’s production, Seth Breedlove brings a sequel to The Mothman of Point Pleasant (2017).” Viewers can count on the soul stirring compositions of Brandon Dalo, (dare you to listen), the whimsical yet enigmatic watercolor painting by the talented Adrienne Breedlove, and outstanding cinematography of the Appalachian hills. Beyond the events of 1966 and 1967, The Mothman Legacy proves there is more of this legendary story to tell. Embedded in the 77 minute documentary are more eye witness and historical accounts, all possessing one common element–fear. “Fear can seemingly appear out of nowhere and then disappear just as quickly…only to return again.” With beautiful images of the Ohio and Kanawha Rivers, winding between rolling hills, the ambience of The Mothman Legacy pulls the viewer into the peaceful setting of Point Pleasant, WV then drops them into the frightening mystery of how one story haunts an entire region. Not only in the present, but from the past – from stories once told throughout a land riddled by hardship and loss. These memories that hibernate are often brought to life by the sharing of experience. Sharing helps give fear perspective Beginning with Scots-Irish settlements in the early 18th century, The Mothman Legacy recounts how West Virginia became home to a variety of cultures embedded deep in story-telling. Giving voice to a variety of eye witness testimonies, Breedlove points out that Mothman sightings continue to haunt many lives. And as long as these people tell their stories, the creature’s legacy will live on. “Fear is a part of our lives…you can’t outrun it or hide from it. All we can do is name it, embrace it, and learn from it.” Perfect for the Halloween season, this documentary brings some real creepiness without the gore or jump scares. Meaty content about real people and events lend to the eeriness that something real and evil lurks around us. Details for The Mothman Legacy: - Documentary (cultural, cryptid lore, horror, historical) - Not rated, but we would rate it as PG-13 - Content is clean, but mature in nature. - Creepy stories and images, but no jump scares - 1 hour and 17 minutes - We give this documentary 5 Cryptid World moths - Available for purchase on Amazon Prime and at Small Town Monsters Quotes within the text above are from The Mothman Legacy. While Cryptid World is a Kickstarter backer of The Mothman Legacy and has received a complimentary copy, this review and rating reflect our honest opinions. If you like this blog post then you might like 5 Famous Creepy Cryptid Encounters, or Legend Tripping to Point Pleasant and the Mothman Museum-fun, enlightening, and sooo hot!. Other Small Town Monster reviews and recommendations: Momo: the Missouri Monster, Terror in the Skies. Here’s a Trailer for The Mothman Legacy Thank you for reading. Hope everyone has a wonderful day!! Stay safe out there. “We have nothing to fear but fear itself.” –Franklin D. Roosevelt. This might be why his wife Elanor said, “Do one thing that scares you everyday.”

|Country||Republic of the Congo| |Possible Population||Possibly small population| The Mulilo is an herbivorous giant slug said to live in the dense forests of the Congo, near the Zaire and Zambia regions. This large slug is said to be as long as 6 feet long and 12 inches wide. It is described as being grayish-white to brown to black in color. The Mulilo is also said to only appear when there is a rainbow and has poisonous breath. They are thought to slowly climb trees. Natives would supposedly catch them with cages using roosters as bait, because their flesh supposedly had magical properties. - This cryptid could possibly be a Limax maximus, the biggest known species of slug. Although this slug is thought to only thrive in Europe, it is believed to possibly exist in parts of Africa. - An unknown Caecilian species. - The black version of the Mulilo might be a melanistic form of a Gaboon Viper, a venomous snake about the same size as the Mulilo. For snakes, they are stout and slow, making them more likely to be mistaken for a giant slug. |"As unpredictable—and probably just as controversial—as UFOs, Leyak are a supernatural phenomenon most feared by many Indonesians."|

If you haven’t yet noticed, you’ve had 30 entire days to do so: it’s spooky month. This does not in any way call for a recap, but here we are nonetheless. Nowhere near as long as the last one, promise. Come! There’s Eevees! Caby’s Annual Halloween Shenanigans As seems to happen every year around this time, Caby has brought out her piggo mascots for Halloween. This year, Candy Corn leads the group astray, into the twisted woods for…something or another. You don’t have much longer to read it (November 1st or so…), so get in while you can. Continued AutoSite XL Development Meanwhile, dotcomboom continues to toil away at AutoSite XL. Getting awful close to a 1.0 gold release, and it’s matured considerably in the last two months. If you’re still not sure what it is, I like to call it a templating engine where your pages are linked to easily-manageable templates; hundreds of pages can be rebuilt with a few quick changes, without the need for scripting or loading data after the fact. It spits out pure, speedy, static HTML for when you need pure, speedy, static HTML. It’s incredibly useful, as someone who’s used it since the Python days, and now that it’s got a lightweight GUI and an editor and everything, you have no reason not to try it out. In fact, I recently rebuilt my site to use it, which should save me some hassle for future updates. And speaking of my sites, my very first one is now online! A redone version of it, anyway. The desire to do an old-school fansite for a band I adore (Silversun Pickups) has been with me even before I joined Neocities, but I was never quite able to finish it the way I wanted to. It was too much work, and work I didn’t exactly want to do for that matter. For three years, two different builds of it languished in my website folder, which was a damn shame. I had so much researched and poured into it, it really deserved better. But thanks to Caby’s hype and a sudden scaling back of plans, Misery Inspires is now a thing on the actual internet. I’d ideally like to add more photo galleries and interviews and whatnot, but as of right now, I’m really rather pleased with it. Working on this site (and recently seeing the Pickups on tour) has really rekindled my interest in the band and the Silver Lake music scene as a whole. I’ve been a little rabid about tracking down some ephemera and rare CD-Rs from the time period to show off, but getting ripped off has slowed those plans down. Here’s hoping my attempts to contact Aaron Espinoza aren’t in vain, because I have a lot to write about. In the meantime, here’s an ancient SSPU demo I unearthed. It’s still a little quiet and dormant, but I did write two little stories featuring Apricot Bay’s own cryptid, Gonzo, “To Exhaustion” and “Classifieds”. He’s a fun character to write for, definitely a little beast in his own right. There’ll be more to come of it when I’m in a little more of a writing mood, promise. We’re pretty much forcing HTTPS across our entire domain now. A lot of our HTTP traffic came from bots and most of our sites don’t work on Netscape anyway. If there comes a time when minerteaux comes back out of the closet or what have you, we can disable it per-site (or per-directory, perhaps), but for now, you’ll need something newer than IE8 to peek. I have a ton of plans to beef up Somnolescent’s architecture come next year, and I’ll be outlining those in a later blog post. In fact, as dead as the blog’s been lately, there’ll be tons of updates in December (and Somnol’s one-year anniversary!), so grab an RSS reader and get comfy. In the meantime, we’re going trick-or-treating.

There is perhaps no greater friend and supporter of the world of cryptozoology in general and Bigfoot in particular than Loren Coleman – cryptozoologist, sociologist, consummate researcher, media consultant, founder of the International Cryptozoology Museum and host of the International Cryptozoology Conference. While much has been written about the man himself, his legacy is his unique museum and the contents that best tell the story of cryptozoology. “The International Cryptozoology Museum has as its primary mission to educate, inform, and share cryptozoological evidence, artifacts, replicas, and popular cultural items with the general public, media, students, scholars, and cryptozoologists from around the world.” That it has done since 2003 when Loren Coleman opened the International Cryptozoology Museum in the first floor of a house in Portland, Maine, as a way to get his hobby and passion out of his own house. While modest at the time by conventional museum standards, it was and still is huge in the world of cryptozoology. Starting with an artifact from the 1960 World Book’s Snowman Expedition to the Himalayas lead by Edmund Hillary and Marlin Perkins, the museum has added a wide variety of artifacts from cryptid research and other cryptid expeditions and discoveries, an 8-foot tall Bigfoot representation, a full-scale model of the coelacanth (one of the oldest living species of fish), alleged foot-casts of Yetis, Yowies and Bigfoot, and famous fakes like jackalopes, furred trout and a model of P.T. Barnum’s Feejee Mermaid. In 2016, the museum was moved to its present location in Portland to accommodate even more cryptozoological artifacts that have been featured in numerous publications and led it to be recognized in 2014 by Time Magazine as one of the “Ten Weirdest Museums in the World” and in 2018 by in the New York Times as one of the five places to visit in Portland, Maine. It has also taken on the added responsibility of hoisting the annual International Cryptozoology Conference, now in its fourth year. This year’s conference will be featuring talks from leaders in the field, an unveiling of a new exhibit at the ICM, unique items and goods from specialized vendors, and opportunities to meet with other leaders and members of the cryptozoology community. All of this is not free, of course, and Loren, who readily admits he’s never been in it to become rich, nonetheless needs funding to keep both the museum and the conference running. A Gofundme fundraiser for the conference has been established (you can donate here) and donations to the museum can be made via PayPal to [email protected] Every little bit helps in keeping the International Cryptozoology Museum, the world’s center and heart of cryptozoology, alive today and for future generations to enjoy.

(From the forthcoming collection Chicken Coop & Other Stories) Paul kneaded his eyes with the heels of his palms, scattering supernovas across the dark of his eyelids. “You’re not talking to me. I already told you ghosts aren’t real. Rather, they could be real, but there’s no evidence for or against. My non-belief is pragmatic and based on the scientific method,” he said. “Paul, this is going to get ugly if you don’t get your stupid meatbag ass outta that bed. I have to right wrongs on Earth so I can move on, and you’ll learn something through the quest,” the voice said. The voice seemed to come from no fixed point. Paul sighed. “This is just a side effect of my medication. I’m going back to sleep.” “Goddamnit Paul!” the voice barked. Prescription-strength dandruff shampoo doesn’t cause claw-like lacerations, auditory and visual hallucinations, objects moving through space, and fuckin’ ECTOPLASM!” “The scratches are from value-priced towels, the hallucinations are from being tired, and the alleged ectoplasm is sebaceous fluid from my inflamed scalp. Goodnight, to no one and nothing, because I am alone.” Paul said, glad for having stood up for himself. He scratched his head. Paul’s bed shook violently as if the frame were grasped at the foot. The voice screamed. “A common earthquake, and a pitiful one, at that,” Paul said. Paul’s laptop opened, and text filled the screen: “SAMSAMSAMSAMSAMSAMSAM.” “Russian hacking,” Paul declared. “Listen, jackass, I have to settle accounts. I was wronged, and I need to make sure the bastards who did it to me get their comeuppance. There’s cash in it for you,” the voice said. “Misplaced workplace anxiety,” answered Paul. The ghost jumped in through Paul’s solar plexus and made his head turn around three times. “Yoga must be paying off,” a smug Paul said. “Namaste.” “I have business with the realm of the living, and I’ve chosen you as my corporeal assistant”, the Ghost said in Paul’s voice, from within Paul’s thorax. “I have big things to do. I’m going to change the World! I believe in me, I’m a winner, and nothing can get in my way!” affirmed Paul. The ghost swam out through the main exit, dragging a fart with him. Paul giggled. “You screwed up big time, buddy! You could have been rich, and imbued with the power of the spirit world. You could even have been reunited with your beloved dead dog, Sparky. I’m outta here.” The ghost said, before flying through the dreamcatcher over Paul’s window and teleporting to Arizona, because Arizona is a fucked-up land of ghosts and filth. Paul sighed. It was the third night in a row something like this had happened, and Pal wondered if he’d ever sleep soundly again. “Is he gone?” asked a voice from under the bed. “Yeah, it’s cool. Come on out, babe”, Paul said “Whew, that was close” said Lady Sasquatch, as she slipped under the comforter. She pulled the bedclothing over her furry humanoid breasts, took the pink bow out of her hair, and placed it on the nightstand. “Tell me about Sparky” she said, spooning Paul. “No, not now. I need you to tell me everything is going to be okay,” Paul said. He buried his face in Lady Sasquatch’s forearm fur. He breathed in her musk, mammalian and foresty. “Well, I can’t promise that babe, but I love you, and I’m here for you. We’ll do our best, one day at a time,” Lady Sasquatch said. “I just don’t know what to believe anymore. Every day is like that old show Quantum Leap, where I wake up in fantastic circumstances I can’t immediately feel out,” Paul said. “Quantum Leap was my shit. Get in here, babe,” Lady Sasquatch said, inviting Paul into her arms. Paul fell asleep, safe in the cryptid’s embrace, with the hope of a new dawn, and new opportunities.

SEGA! I love gaming as a whole, but when it comes to favourites, SEGA have always been my number one. My word they were part of some crazy marketing though. From fake controversy to props, they tried it all. So, below are my top 5 SEGA marketing campaigns and stunts. Some of them, you may know about already. Others, you may not. Regardless though, let’s dive into the fun and whacky world of SEGA. ESPN NFL FOOTBALL: BETA TESTER BLACKOUTS! Sports games often fall into a simple pattern: improve it until it’s decent then re-release the same game again and again with minor tweaks and updated licensed rosters. Honestly, it’s rare for a sports game to attempt something different these days. But, back in 2003, Visual Concepts – then owned by SEGA – attempted just that by placing a first-person mode in ESPN NFL Football for the PS2 and Xbox. Enter Beta-7, a young man from Orlando, who acted a beta tester for the game. He created a website, beta-7.com, wherein he chronicled his experiences testing the game. And boy were they odd. After only one session, this started going wrong for the lad. He’d blackout, then jump to his feet, get in a three-point stance, and violently crash into his furniture or wall. Now, this was obviously a marketing campaign. Even Beta-7 stating that he wasn’t doesn’t change that. Interestingly though, while people thought that his posts were fake, they didn’t pick up on it being a marketing campaign. I can only assume that’s because you tend to market a product by making it look like it’ll cause health issues. But hey, SEGA does what NintenDon’t, right? Anyway, the whole thing had a long-running narrative going throughout it, complete with video clips. Beta-7 received a mystery VHS atone point, and even went back to the testing building, only to find it empty. Other beta testers came forward and started sending him items that they’d stolen from the Visual Concepts offices – Beta13 got a job there as a janitor purely to snoop around and found some shredded e-mails – and then things got even weirder. Another tester posted photos from a medical research clinic that Visual Concepts had paid to run gameplay tests. There were reports of blackouts, bruises, and bleeding from the eyes! And then…Beta-7 went missing. His friend, who helped him run the site, tried to visit him but found his apartment had been trashed. And nobody heard from him ever again. Honestly, this was all pretty barmy. But I love that. SEGA went all-in on having fun with this, and it really did draw attention to the game. So, job done! MARIO & SONIC AT THE OLYMPICS: TORTURE TIME! Before the first-ever game to officially feature both gaming icons together hit the shelves, SEGA decided to build some interest in the title. Without telling anyone what the game would be. Or who was in it. So, how did they do that? Well, they posted a grainy video on YouTube. This saw an anonymous SEGA employee – wearing a bunny mask – that had been kidnapped and tied to a chair. With the text ‘mystery still surrounds April release’ displayed at the bottom of the screen, the SEGA employee was questioned about what game they had in development. This questioning was accompanied by torture. That’s right, torture. Geishas ripped his leg hair from his skin. A man in a monkey mask went full-on Reservoir Dogs and viciously cut his ear off. Well, the bunny mask’s ear anyway. They even went so far as to play James Blunt’s ‘You’re Beautiful’ at him on loop. I kid you not. Anyway, April came and went with no game appearing. SEGA claimed to not know where the video came from. Eventually, the game landed in November, and it was revealed that yes, this was a bizarre marketing campaign. Sadly, I wasn’t able to find a surviving copy of the video on YouTube. I think you’d be hard-pressed to find anything in it that directly references the game either way though. Honestly, just mentioning that the hedgehog and the plumber were teaming up would have been enough to get the hype train moving but hey, you can’t fault them for creativity! SEAMAN: CRYPTIC CRYPTID! Seaman. The Dreamcast game where you raise a fish with a human face – the face of the game’s lead designer no less – and teach it to talk. If that wasn’t strange enough, SEGA jumped into a viral marketing campaign that pretended the Seaman was real. The website in question was built to represent the American Science Journal Online. It followed the adventures of a US-led team that hunted for the mysterious fish, citing that its history goes back 4,500 years! So, how did they do this? Well, of course, there were blog posts. This included a bunch of photos though, including Egyptian wall paintings that appeared to feature the human-faced beasty. It also weaved the tragic tale of a professor who, in 1932, was able to find some Seaman eggs and begin a breeding experiment, only for disaster to strike. The fish all died, and without them, he had no proof of their existence, causing him to go into hiding. Sixty years later, a child captured a live Seaman in Egypt, and a Japanese team was eventually able to use this a launchpad to breed them. It was all very bizarre, but the site did give a lot of background information about the game’s titular creature. It actually makes it feel like SEGA really cared about the core concept of this supremely weird release. Compared to the previous two entries on the list, this one was a little more mundane, but it was also a pretty good run at getting people interested. MADWORLD: BLOOD ON THE STREETS MadWorld was a stylized fighter for the Wii, that saw black and white characters carrying out ridiculously violent moves that would put the Mortal Kombat games of the time to shame. It was, unsurprisingly, subject to a fair bit of controversy at the time. Many didn’t understand why, largely because it was so over the top, it was hard to take it too seriously. In short, when it came to style, Manhunt it was not. The biggest controversy came with the marketing though. Now, it started simple enough. They ran three separate websites for the game. The main hub was on SEGA’s own website, which was the basic ‘here’s what the game is like’ affair. They also had a blog. Finally, they had MadWorld TV, which was a take on sports talk shows. That last one was pretty cool; intentionally cheesy and focusing on Deathwatch, the blood sport from the game, it was a really fun way to push the game. Not satisfied with web marketing though, we then hit the campaign that hit the UK press: placing body parts around the streets of London. So, what happened? Well, SEGA started placing severed prosthetic arms around London, each one clutching a copy of the game. Now, the arms were pretty gruesome looking, but there was a caveat. Much like in the game, they were painted to be black and white, with only the blood in full colour. It was all very ballsy, especially as the Wii was mostly seen as a family-friendly console. But then The Sun newspaper saw the campaign and started complaining that it all sickened the general public. That’s right, the famous bastion of high moral standards that is The Sun said it was sickening. But was it really? As it turns out, probably not. SEGA had teams monitoring each limb, ready to remove them immediately if they caused an offense. They received no complaints. This was an era where SEGA was still willing to go a little crazy with marketing but had learned a few lessons, I think. It was still edgy, and still a little bizarre, but it had some more restraint than normal. I thought this was one was pretty cool overall. ENEMY ZERO: WELCOME TO SEGA This is one that you may not be aware of if you were never a fan of the SEGA Saturn. So, some history. Enemy Zero is a survival horror game that was pegged to be a Sony PlayStation exclusive. Enter designed by Koji Eno. He had previously worked on the interactive horror game D, and it was that very title that led into this marketing stunt. You see, Koji was upset with Sony. When it came to their port of D, they printed only 28,000 copies. The pre-orders exceeded 100,00, and they simply couldn’t catch up. Working for a small company, Koji was livid because one failure like that could have severe consequences. So, he took revenge. Koji set up a booth at the Sony Computer Entertainment Japan press event, promising more details about Enemy Zero. And that’s where things went mad. Kenji gathered 200 members of the press and played a trailer for the game, seemingly ending as most did, with the Sony PlayStation logo. But it didn’t end. On-screen, the logo morphed first into the SEGA Saturn logo, then in SEGA’s Vice President, who simply stated, “Welcome to SEGA”. The whole thing caused a fair stir. While it wasn’t technically a purely SEGA marketing stunt, they must have signed off on it. Advertising that they’ve stolen away an exclusive title at the original company’s press event is a pretty crazy move too. While Sony would have the last laugh in the long-run, this was one of those times that the Saturn looked to have a shot at recovery. So, those were my favourites. But what about yourselves? Do you have any favourite moments from SEGA’s marketing campaigns? Let me know in the comments below!

Condemned by love, life, and the leaden disparities which hungrily frequent the secret backwaters of everyday existence, the heart of the tales shared by Gumshoe are rich fascinations which simply seduce ears and imagination. Proof comes with the new album from the Athens in Georgia hailing US outfit, The Governor’s Brother a collection of dark intimation someone like David Lynch would relish giving a visual face to. With the imagination teasing lyrical prowess of vocalist/guitarist Andy Dixon, his magnetic narration and the creative evocation of sound cast by bassist Jef Whatley and drummer John Norris, The Governor’s Brother simply dragged ears and appetite into its rich crepuscular landscape. Musically, Gumshoe conjures with a blend of shadow embracing folk, country, and blues; their sound matching and echoing the tenebrific stories explored. The Governor’s Brother opens up with Barking At Shadows and its unrushed amble is an instantly captivating proposal. It is a lure only accentuated as Dixon shares the intimate breath of the song and the band spring its dawdling swing. Pure seduction as it draws the listener into its ill-lit heart the track is a compelling introduction and potent sign of things to come as confirmed by the following Call Me Mr. Rubber Belly. The second song immediately shows a firmer hand but equally saunters along with a heavy, bordering on lumbering gait. Wiry blues nurtured tendrils of guitar illuminate word and voice as rhythms impose their thickly enticing bait; hues of punk and country rock colouring the brooding virulence which infested ears and imagination before Amorosa steals its own fair share of the album’s limelight with its unworldly cryptid bred romance. Next up, the irresistible I Am The Sun provides another instantaneous fixation as richly enticing flames of brass spring eagerly across another reserved yet eager stroll of sound and voice as firmly catchy as it is suggestive while Bye Bye Baby emulates its pleasure binding exploits with its own individually dancing jangle and vocal enterprise. Maybe taking a touch longer to warm up than its predecessor, the song soon has body and attention swinging to its pop ‘n’ folk rock exploits carrying a great warped Talking Heads meets Roy Orbison flavouring. The album rounds its manipulation of storytelling and imagination with firstly C.L.A.U.S., a tenacious blues/surf tempting which sometimes is overrun with less collected lust as it serenades the focus of its inspiration, and finally the melancholy engulfed desolation bred croon of Never Enough. A track which haunts long past its departure, it is a riveting and delicious end to a release which is easily drawing us back time and time again. An encounter which seems to further blossom as it reveals more of its portentous intrigue loaded depths listen by listen, The Governor’s Brother is a bewitching anthology of word and sound; its dark poetry tantalising and accompanying but just as potent music a masterful insinuation in an album which just commands keen attention. The Governor’s Brother is available now across most online stores. Pete RingMaster 8/01/2019 Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

The truth is out there. With thousands of sightings, theories and believers, the creature known as Bigfoot has become the stuff of legend. What if this fabled cryptid was doing more than lurking in our imaginations? What if Bigfoot was actually real? Where did Bigfoot come from? What secrets would it reveal? And could it really be out there? When Roger Patterson and Bob Gimlin shot a few seconds of film, possibly showing the legendary beast in Humboldt County, California, it sparked the imagination of thousands. But Bigfoot lurked in the minds of the curious long before the Patterson-Gimlin footage. Variations around the world include the Sasquatch, yeti, skunk ape, yowie and wild man. But what was it, really? While Bigfoot sure is a catchy name, the creature would need some better identification than that. Well, A popular theory suggests that Bigfoot is closely related to the long-extinct Gigantopithecus, a distant-cousin of the orangutan that lived throughout Southeast Asia. Gigantopithecus stood over 3 meters tall (10 ft) and weighed up to 270 kg (595 lbs). Little is known about this mysterious giant, which only adds to the Bigfoot myth. Researchers have, however, managed to find sets of teeth and partial jaws. Studies of these chompers have given us some insight into the Gigantopithecus’ lifestyle. It’s believed that prior to its extinction, the Gigantopithecus lived on a diet of fruits, leaves and roots, all things it could find in its native homeland. But is it possible the giant ape could have migrated, maybe to avoid a predator or because of climate change? What if the strange sightings of Bigfoot were a result of this creature crossing the ice bridge to North America, with its descendants evolving into a separate species? Or maybe Bigfoot has a little more in common with something else. You! You, even with all your sophisticated human traits, come from the same family tree as animals. This line of thinking leads to the idea that in order for us to have broken off from our primate roots, there must have been a middleman, or more appropriately, a missing link. In the 1990s, the concept of a molecular clock was developed. This technology proves that molecules are constantly shifting and changing. The older the split between different species is, the more molecular differences there are going to be. Using this molecular clock idea, blood from humans and gorillas was sampled, and it was found that we shared a common ancestor about 11 million years ago. Could Bigfoot be what researchers call our last common ancestor? Well, the search for our missing link still exists, and the search doesn’t look like it is going to be that easy. Many people worry that if the last common ancestor actually is found, we won’t even be able to recognize it. So, is it possible Bigfoot could be lurking out there? Well, While it’s easy to dismiss Bigfoot sightings as a hoax, there were 71 new species discovered in 2019 alone! So, it isn’t unreasonable to state that we don’t know about everything that lives on Earth. In fact, many well-known species like the giant panda, the Komodo dragon and the mountain gorilla were all discovered because of their connection to folklore. While Bigfoot may continue to be the all-time greatest hide and seek champion, the search for it could lead to discoveries of new species or new insights into our own evolution. We are discovering new creatures every year, so we shouldn’t give up our hunt for Bigfoot. The whole purpose of science is to be continuously on the lookout for something new that we didn’t know before. Our advice to you? Don’t stop believin’. If Bigfoot is ever found, it would open Pandora’s box. What other mythological creatures could be out there? - “We have still not found the missing link between us and apes”. Barras, Colin. 2020. bbc.com. Accessed February 24 2020. - “Does Science Benefit From the Search for Sasquatch?”. 2018. Cal Alumni Association. Accessed February 24 2020. - “Take a look at the 71 new species scientists discovered in 2019”. Rodriguez, Jeremiah. 2019. Ctvnews. Accessed February 24 2020. - “Why Earth’s Largest Ape Went Extinct”. livescience.com. Accessed February 24 2020. - “He got the FBI to test ‘Bigfoot’ hair in the 1970s — and this 93-year-old man is still searching for Sasquatch”. Mangan, Dan. 2019. CNBC. Accessed February 24 2020.

1 edition of 125 cute animals found in the catalog. 125 cute animals Written in English Presents images, anecdotes, and information about 125 exceptionally adorable animals, from pets like puppies and kittens, to such wild creatures as gorillas and ostriches. |Other titles||One hundred and twenty-five cute animals, Hundred twenty-five cute animals, National Geographic kids.| |Statement||contributing writers, Kitson Jazynka, John Micklos, Jr., Kate Olesin, Jen Rini, B.F. Summers, C.M. Tomlin, Sarah Youngson| |Series||National Geographic kids, National Geographic kids| |Contributions||Micklos, John, author, Olesin, Kate, author, Rini, Jen, author, Summers, B.F., author, Tomlin, C.F., author, Youngson, Sarah, author| |LC Classifications||QL49 .A1515 2015| |The Physical Object| |Number of Pages||111| |ISBN 10||142631888X, 1426318871| |ISBN 10||9781426318887, 9781426318870| |LC Control Number||2015288147| Giraffe Animals Zoo. Dog Cute Puppy Animal. Mouse Rodent Cute. Mouse Rodent Cute. Dog Portrait Black. Cat Play Toy Cute. Horse Animal Nature. Dog Lhasa Apso Canine. Monster Cute Beast. Baby Elephant Elephant. Mouse Rodent Cute. Shark Jaws Fish Animal. Cat Cat And Mouse Cute. Alpaca Animal Brown. Cute Cat Wallpaper. Teddy Bear Whimsical. Images Photos Vector graphics Illustrations Videos. 64 7. Rabbit Carrot Pattern. 98 1. Skull Horns Antlers. 66 4. Anthropomorphic Book. 77 5. Rabbit Pulling Carrot. 61 97 6. Anthropomorphized Animals. 86 4. Animals Cute Flat. 67 8. Animal Bear Cow Duck. 51 94 2. Rabbit Animal Bunny. 64 83 8. Animals Bunny Cat Dog. Yale University Symposium on intellectual backgrounds of artistic evolution in Latin America Self-Defense for Women Propagation for the home gardener. The historians guide Love and good-will to all, the author sends, but specially to Zion and her friends Koino nia in the New Testament A new rodent of the genus Nesoryzomys from the Galapagos islands British aid statistics Conservation of archaeological artefacts by thermal methods Ideas of revelation How does it feel? Cute Animals: Meet the Cutest Critters on the Planet, Including Animals You Never Knew Existed, and Some So Ugly They're Cute (National Geographic Kids) [National Geographic Kids] on *FREE* shipping on qualifying offers. Cute Animals: Meet the Cutest Critters on the Planet, Including Animals You Never Knew Existed, and Some So Ugly They're 5/5(7). Vote on the cutest animals from " Cute Animals" book from National Geographic Kids This book is packed with our favorite cutest animals. There’s even a cutest baby animals gallery, plus 125 cute animals book cuties you can own. Cute Animals (Turtleback School & Library Binding Edition) (National Geographic Kids) Library Binding – by National Geographic (Author) out of 5 stars 7 ratings. See all 3 formats and editions Hide other formats and editions. Price New from 5/5(7). From koalas to kinkajous, chimpanzees to chipmunks, the world is full of adorable animals. Packed with the top 125 cute animals book animals of all time, this book combines heart-melting photos with awww-some animal anecdotes and hundreds of fascinating facts. Discover tons of furry, fluffy, feathery fun on every page, including a cutest baby animals gallery!Brand: National Geographic Society. Cute Animals: Meet the Cutest Critters on From koalas to kinkajous, chimpanzees to chipmunks, the world is full of adorable animals. Packed with the top cutest animals of all time, this book combines heart-melting photos with awww-some animal anecdotes and hundreds 125 cute animals book fascinating facts. The world’s largest online retailer is spending more money on flashy TV commercials featuring dogs and ponies -- and more on 125 cute animals book overall -- in a push to turn around slowing sales growth. The book series by National Geographic Kids includes books Cool Inventions: Supersmart Machines and Wacky Gadgets You Never Knew You Wanted. and Cute Animals: Meet the Cutest Critters on the Planet, Including Animals You Never Knew Existed, and Some So Ugly They're Cute. Cute Animals: Meet the Cutest Critters on the Planet, Including Animals You Never Knew Existed, and Some So Ugly They're Cute (National Geographic Kids) has 5 reviews and 1 ratings. Reviewer Ellie wrote: I want to get this book sooo bad.5/5(1). Aug 8, - Explore butterflyswirll's board "BOOKS" on Pinterest. See more ideas about Books, Book worms and Book nerd pins. - Explore utlibraries's board "animals with books", followed by people on Pinterest. See more ideas about Animals, Cute animals and Pets pins. Cute Animals: Meet the Cutest Critters on the Planet, Including Animals You Never Knew Existed, and Some so Ugly, They’re Cute: National Geographic Kids: National Geographic Kids: Pet Rescues: From Pound to Palace: Homeless Pets Made Happy: National Geographic Kids: National Geographic Kids: True Stories of Amazing Animal. Cute Animals: Meet the Cutest Critters on the Planet, Including Animals You Never Knew Existed, and Some So Ugly They're Cute National Geographic Kids $ - $ Picture Books With Cute Animals All Rate this book. Clear rating. 1 of 5 stars 125 cute animals book of 5 stars 3 of 5 stars 4 of 5 stars 5 of 5 125 cute animals book. flag this list 66 books 19 voters list created December 11th, 125 cute animals book Cheryl. 2 likes. DISCLAIMER: This video is 125 cute animals book Adults interested in Adult Coloring Therapy and not intended for children Buy Cute Animals 2: CA: US: UK: https://amzn. Miss Scheidt talks about the silly stories she read in National 125 cute animals book Kids True Stories of Amazing Animals. National Geographic Kids Cute Animals: : National Geographic Kids: Books. Skip to main content. Try Prime Hello, Sign in Account & Lists Sign in Account & Lists Orders Try Prime Basket. Books. Go Search Today's Deals Vouchers 5/5(3). Cute Animals: Meet the Cutest Critters on the Planet, Including Animals You Never Knew Existed, and Some so Ugly, They’re Cute By National. Cute Animals: Meet the Cutest Critters on the Planet, Including Animals You Never Knew Existed, and Some So Ugly They're Cute () quantity Add to basket Packed with the top cutest animals of all time, this book combines heart-melting photos with awww-some animal anecdotes and hundreds of fascinating facts. Learn about the cute baby animals God created. God’s Baby Animals teaches kids about the special names for newborn animals of all kinds and reminds them that God made these precious creatures. Kids will love the beautiful illustrations, and the pictures of the babies with their mothers will bring a smile to any face!Explore Faith the Sticks booksfilled with fun Pages: Home» Slogans» List of Clever Book Club Names. List of Clever Book Club Names. by Brandon Gaille. Book clubs exist all across the nation and range in size from a handful to several dozens. These groups typically consist of female genders and meet up regularly to discuss each other thoughts from the books. If you want to set yourself on a path to reaping those incredible benefits, just like Einstein, read the facts we've compiled here. They're fun, they're interesting, and they're guaranteed to pique your curiosity. It's time to arm yourself with all sorts of fascinating facts and trivia that will make you feel like a total genius, boosting Author: Best Life Editors. ADVANCED SEARCH - [ enter design# as KL (not KL_) ] Search gallery: Animals cute - children books ( images). With beautiful storylines and heartwarming art, these family-friendly favorites will add light and love to your child’s bookshelf. They focus on relationship dynamics, teaching children the importance of family bonds and human connection. Sleepytime Reads: Best Bedtime Books for Babies. Reading to your child at night is one of the best ways. While most owners seem to think their pet is just begging for attention I would like to offer up that these animals really just want you to hold the book so they too can read. My proof. Here are a bunch of adorable animals reading books: Next on my checklist is a nap. #exoticshorthair #cat #cute #flatface #kitten #meow #pet #mreggs #. Plastic Jungle Play Animals, in. Fun plastic animals make great toys as well as cute decorations. Line the shelves of your animal lover’s room with these plastic jungle creatures. 6 different play animals include lions, tigers, elephants, zebras, giraffes, and rhinos/5(7). Page of Sort by. Relevance. New. Georank. Image Type. All. Photography. Vector Illustration. Orientation. All. Horizontal. Coloring book with wild animals cartoon. Vector. Similar Images. Add to Likebox Seamless childish pattern with cute animals in black and white. Vector. Similar Images. Add to Likebox # - Cute baby. Who can resist the charming and adorable face of a baby animal. This enchanting series answers this question--no one can. These books offer an up-close look at the first, and arguably cutest, part of an animal's life cycle. Download this Premium Vector about Cute boho baby animals illustration seamless pattern, and discover more than 7 Million Professional Graphic Resources on Freepik. Best-Selling Joke Book Author, Johnny B. Laughing. The Joke King, Johnny B. Laughing is a best-selling children's joke book author. He is a jokester at heart and enjoys a good laugh - pulling pranks on his friends, and telling funny and hilarious jokes. He has a wide variety of published joke books and a very successful joke website. The Sizzix Pet Shop die from Laura Kelly has an assortment of cute animal dies. She makes even snakes and lizards look adorable. Most of these designs will fit on the front of the small composition book, but the dog is a bit too large. You’ll need a large composition book if you want to make this craft with the dog shape. Super Art Fight, LLC is raising funds for Cute Animals On Fire: The Super Art Fight Party Game on Kickstarter. A fun and exciting drawing based party game for anyone who can hold a pencil of all skill levels from the people of Super Art on: Baltimore, MD. Kubik – little cube. Lizun – smooch. Rebus – puzzle. Sharik – little ball. Tsar – Russian King. Vulkan – volcano. Female Russian Dog Names. Many of these are female names that top the charts in Russia. Beautiful, unique and distinctly Russian, these names are super cool if you have a female dog. We’ve also included some Russian. Jan 8, - Explore Bambreezle's board "future pet ", followed by people on Pinterest. See more ideas about Puppies, Pets, Cute animals. Cute Animal Drawings Cute Drawings Colorful Animals Cute Animals Animal Puns Cute Illustration Disney Art Cute Cartoon Cute Art Daily Paint I GradHOOated. by Cryptid-Creations Time-lapse, high-res and WIP sketches of my art available on Patreon (: Twitter • Facebook • Instagram • DeviantART ♒ Daily Painting Book Kickstarter (MORE pins. 70 Cool & Weird Animals Around the World, including unique mammals, strange amphibians, unusual nocturnal animals, weird birds, & cool animals from the sea. with a known population of around New Zealand ’s “Owl Parrot” is an undeniable odd animal– large, The cute Quokka has little fear of humans, but it is illegal to touch. Jun 3, - Explore mariabrittneyelvina's board "super cute animal coloring pages" on Pinterest. See more ideas about Animal coloring pages, Coloring pages and Cute coloring pages. Stay safe and healthy. Please practice hand-washing and social distancing, and check out our resources for adapting to these times. Cute Animals Coloring Book. Shaky Tail's Party Animals bring our boutique style & themed pony party and petting zoo to YOU. Our cute little miniature farm animals visit your backyard, local park, place of business, church, school, daycare or where ever you want us to come for birthday parties, grand openings, family reunions, company picnics, festivals, fairs, farmer's markets, craft shows, weddings. Don't judge a cat book by its cover Publishers may think a cute animal on the cover is what sells in the supermarket, but ask around online and those who buy pet books will tell you otherwise Tom Cox. Buy World's Cutest Animals by Josie Ripley (ISBN: ) from Amazon's Book Store. Everyday low prices and free delivery on eligible orders/5(8). Animals Clipart Animals Cute Clipart Cute Animals Clipart Clip Art Hand Drawn Culture Clouds Decor Decorations Flower Flowers Floral Clipart Floral Decorations Children Kid Girl Feminine Pattern Background Summer Spring Holiday Autumn Winter Plant Elements Vector Elements Vector Illustration Fun Funny Cute Sweet Adorable Cartoon Color Flat. Download this Free Vector about Collection of cute animals birthday cards, and discover more than 7 Million Professional Graphic Resources on Freepik.This lush book of photography represents National Geographic's Photo Ark, a major cross-platform initiative and lifelong project by photographer Joel Sartore to make portraits of the world's animals, especially those that are endangered. These book darts are simple and stylish and will keep your book pages ebook. 30 ebook $ Choose from silver, gold, or bronze and never lose the place of a favorite line. $15 for page markers. Your pages will be pristine when you use these elastic bookmarks with line your spot in your book and the exact line where you stopped. $28 for a set of four.

One of these schools — Eternity Christian Academy, in Westlake, Louisiana — utilizes the A.C.E. Curriculum Program, a Christian fundamentalist course of study that teaches students to "see life from God's point of view." And unbeknownst to most theologians, scientists, and amateur monster hunters, the Lord's viewpoint apparently incorporates Scotland's favorite cryptid. Herald Scotland reports that a certain textbook in the A.C.E. curriculum transcends standard Creationist teachings and instead informs students that the Loch Ness Monster is proof positive that evolution never happened. (And here I always assumed Nessie was The Great Beast from the Book of Revelation.) Explains Herald Scotland: One ACE textbook – Biology 1099, Accelerated Christian Education Inc – reads: "Are dinosaurs alive today? Scientists are becoming more convinced of their existence. Have you heard of the 'Loch Ness Monster' in Scotland? 'Nessie' for short has been recorded on sonar from a small submarine, described by eyewitnesses, and photographed by others. Nessie appears to be a plesiosaur." Another claim taught is that a Japanese whaling boat once caught a dinosaur. It's unclear if the movie Godzilla was the inspiration for this lesson. Jonny Scaramanga, 27, who went through the ACE programme as a child, but now campaigns against Christian fundamentalism, said the Nessie claim was presented as "evidence that evolution couldn't have happened. The reason for that is they're saying if Noah's flood only happened 4000 years ago, which they believe literally happened, then possibly a sea monster survived. And according to Scaramanga, these biology books were still in print as of last month. Herald Scotland also quotes Cruise Loch Ness tour operator and Nessie aficionado Tony Drummond, who encourages A.C.E. students to comb the Loch scientifically: "They need to come and investigate the loch for themselves," says the 47-year-old. "We've got some hi-tech equipment. They could come out on the boat and do a whole chunk of the loch. "We do get regular sonar contacts which are pretty much unexplainable. More research has to be done, but it's not way along the realms of possibility." But he's not convinced that the legend of the Loch Ness Monster is being taught the right way. "That's Christian propaganda," he says. "And ridiculous." If Scotland experiences a tourism windfall because of Creationist textbooks, it won't be long before Washington State entrepreneurs begin shilling Bigfoot as a member of the lost clan of Goliath. Is this the beginning of the Creationism-Cryptozoology Tourism Complex? For more on the depressingly zany A.C.E. curriculum, see this recent piece on Salon. Via Dangerous Minds and a_blackpanther. Top image from the 1985 tour de force Baby: Secret of the Lost Legend. Sure, it was actually about Mokele-Mbembe, but only seven of you remember that darn movie. Bottom two photos from The Loch Ness Horror, which has been keeping it real since 1981.

V.23 No.52 | 12/25/2014 The Daily Word in KISS, Creed and cryptids. By Constance Moss & Carl Petersen [ Mon Dec 22 2014 12:06 PM ] A Texas plumber's work truck ended up in the hands of ISIS, and he has no idea how. The best part of waking up is Kiss’ Paul Stanley in your cup. A runaway bin lorry caused multiple fatalities in Glasgow. A driver in France also mowed down several pedestrians in the town of Dijon. In more uplifiting French news, research shows champagne bubbles may be cause for celebration. The former singer of Creed lost his marbles a while back and has yet to regain them. Pope Francis' Christmas speech to the Vatican Clergy was not all warm and fuzzy. George W. the painter tries to get the nose right. Review the year in bigfoot sightings. Me hungover? You hungover. Songbirds can sense tornadoes in time to get the heck away. A South Valley rehab center is under Norovirus quarantine. When you shoplift an axe you become and axe-wielding shoplifter. Don’t hold your breath on that downtown ice-skating rink. Happy birthday, Barbara Billingsley. V.23 No.40 | The Daily Word in a cryptid sighting, an ear canal insect and voting By Geoffrey Plant [ Tue Oct 7 2014 12:19 PM ] Absentee voting for the New Mexico general elections starts today. This woman is searching Albuquerque's west mesa for her missing sister. New York City water really does make the best bagels. A prominent Santa Fean was attacked at his home. Thou shalt probably not preach Jesus stuff when in uniform. Doug Ford has a good chance of winning the Toronto mayoral race. Here is disturbing video of a large hideous insect being pulled out of a man's ear. US border with Mexico is now only "the last line of defense" against illegals. CNN needs writers with better aptitude for metaphor. V.23 No.7 | The Daily Word in suburban Bigfoot, New Mexican radiation leaks and rabbit stampedes By Ty Bannerman [ Wed Feb 19 2014 10:38 AM ] The Bueno chile recall has hit the Pit. The WIPP nuclear waste burial site is apparently suffering a radiation leak. And Bigfoot is going suburban? Could be. It's Detroit, so all bets are off. Alleged "Craiglist Killer" Amanda Barbour may have murdered between one and 22 people. But probably just one. On the off chance that you're thinking about castrating a hippo, you should probably give up on the idea. Looking for a new way to lose money? Albuquerque hosts the US's first Bitcoin vending machine! Oh my god, it's a rabbit stampede. The fuzziest stampede of all. V.23 No.2 | 1/9/2014 The Daily Word in poodles, perfect pitch and penis captivus By Carl Petersen [ Mon Jan 6 2014 10:56 AM ] Happy Blue Monday. National security is now the FBI’s primary mission. You can’t smoke pot in the Denver airport. Pregnant moms who drink wine may produce calmer kids. France thinks comic Dieudonne is less funny than Jerry Lewis. Utah’s judiciary puts a hold on gay marriage. Bighorn sheep make a comeback. Penis captivus is real. Once there was a terrible online dating profile. One more sandwich and I will stab you. Perfect pitch in a pill? Somebody killed bigfoot again. The jerky factory caught fire. There might be more cops downtown. The Devil Mask Robbers strike again. New Mexico ranks poorly in economic freedom. What’s going on today? Happy birthday Rowan Atkinson. Thanks to Alyx Brannock, Mark Lopez and Geoffrey Anjou for the links! V.22 No.36 | The Daily Word in a Bandidos bust, Bigfoot in Nebraska, Obama chills out on Syria and Neil Young tells Keystoners like it is By Geoffrey Plant [ Tue Sep 10 2013 11:05 AM ] Cavity-filled driver of car involved in accident on I-40 last week arraigned in court with a spectacular history of bench warrants. President Obama was giving interviews last night like Debbie did Dallas. The 1980's British Columbia ghost town that time forgot. Yeti sighting in Nebraska. George Zimmerman cannot stay out of the news. Onions were so cheap in India, even your momma couldn't cook them all. Convicted New Delhi rapists to be sentenced tomorrow, possibly will hang. When we worshiped craven images. Barber who uses fire to trim hair. Pat Buchanan's hair. V.22 No.20 | The Daily Word in Godfather's Pizza, booze and Bigfoot By Samantha Anne Carrillo [ Thu May 16 2013 10:07 AM ] Is Bigfoot hangin' in the Jemez? Jal, a wee New Mexico town, is facing a peak water crisis. David Beckham is gettin' out of the game. Dada Tumblr OTD: Baguette-Me-Nots. V.21 No.48 | The Daily Word in typhoons, down votes and Russian drivers By Margaret Wright [ Wed Dec 5 2012 9:29 AM ] Senate Republicans voted down an The rest of the world is pointing and laughing. Supporters of Egypt's President Morsi confronted opponents camped outside the presidential palace, and things got violent. Money may have been the top factor keeping House Republican women out of leadership positions. Daniel Ellsberg calls Bradley Manning a hero. The upcoming state legislative session could include election law changes. Mapping drones permitted for use here in the U.S. Your TV is listening. NYC, buried in carbon emissions. This month's war frontlines photo-dispatches. "Driving in Russia." [All 13 minutes are totally worth watching.] I think I like this band. Missed high fives. The year's best book lists. Southeastern Ohio Bigfoot Investigation Society. Aren't you also "clamoring" for Pizza Hut perfume? V.21 No.47 | The Daily Word in APD probe, Miley's pig and milk for inmates By Nick Brown and Co. [ Tue Nov 27 2012 10:19 AM ] U.S. Justice Department announces it will investigate APD. APD officer accused of encouraging neighbors to brawl to settle a dispute. Best prank ever. By which we mean freaking scariest. San Juan County inmates nearly riot over lack of milk at breakfast. That Facebook privacy notice everyone's posting won't help you at all. Bigfoot DNA results. Finally. Albuquerque Authorities name their baby rhino Chopper rather than Bonbornio. PETA gave Miley Cyrus a pig for her birthday. She didn't get it. Fiona Apple cancels a tour to spend time with her dying pit bull, Janet. Happy birthday, Bruce Lee and Jimi Hendrix. The Daily Word in English royalty, Bigfoot, and the "I Dream of Jeannie" guy died By Geoffrey Plant [ Sat Nov 24 2012 4:21 PM ] Someone stole a Navajo blanket from a Santa Fe resort. Slate wrote the least entertaining Bigfoot piece ever. Boxer Hector Camacho died from his gunshot wounds. A naked guy spent three happy hours on top of a statue of Prince George in downtown London. Have the remains of cruel and hunchbacked Richard III been found under a parking lot in Leicester? Check out hacker syndicate Anonymous' video message to Karl Rove about stealing the Ohio election. It is now law that people shall wear pants in the streets of San Francisco. On this day in 1864 aristocratic dwarf Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec was born. V.21 No.44 | The Daily Word in voting for Lance Kerwin, Chad Kroeger and baby goats. By Nick Brown [ Tue Nov 6 2012 9:27 AM ] Don't pee on your lawn in Oklahoma. Chad Kroeger commands you to look at this photograph. There's a man-eating leopard on the loose in Nepal. Let's all try this glowing black light cocktail. Five technological leaps are coming soon. A Santa Fe boy didn't want to clean his room. Albuquerque fire stations for sale. The Ether Man is expected to plead guilty. Happy birthday, Lance Kerwin. V.21 No.42 | The Daily Word in Putin, nipple distance, and Bigfoot By Geoffrey Plant [ Sat Oct 20 2012 6:05 PM ] There's potentially another Superfund site in Albuquerque. Caliber's coyote-killing contest cancelled. Rio Grande Sun's Police Blotter. Here's one concept for a new bridge across the Seine. Big Tex burned up after his boots caught fire. Chinese beauty pageant nipple distance mandate. Two reasons to visit the Dangerous Minds website: listen to the entire Jim Jones People's Temple LP; learn that original German freaks FAUST are still around and they played a live soundtrack to the last presidential debate.... A Pennsylvania man says a Sasquatch broke the tail lights on his Winnebago. Putin can do anything. Again. Watch Einstuerzende Neubauten's Blixa Bargeld make Risotto. On this day in 1950, Tom Petty was born. Check him out on The Tom Snyder show in 1981. V.21 No.41 | 10/11/2012 The Daily Word in bike path, sad husky, gas prices By B.L. Brennan [ Fri Oct 5 2012 11:14 AM ] Newly completed path saves time for Balloon Fiesta bikers. The nation’s unemployment rate dropped in September to its lowest since 2009. Sad husky embarks on two-mile solo trek to visit owner in hospital. One of New Mexico’s most wanted fugitives captured in Mexico. California sees 17 cent rise in gas prices overnight. 50 years after its debut, Beatles fans come together to sing record breaking rendition of Love Me Do. Apparently “true giants” only have four toes. Colonel Meow wishes you a happy Friday! V.21 No.38 | 9/20/2012 The Daily Word in bacon shortages, salsa contests, zombees and castration. By Nick Brown [ Tue Sep 25 2012 10:41 AM ] Here’s a man made 300 obscene phone calls. Castration makes men live longer. Hey, a car flipped over. How to read body language, they claim. The bacon shortage is coming. Puppy cam. If anyone cares. Make yourself a sad little song in Bb. Dawn of the Zombees. Ritz Crackers are #1. Here's the latest bigfoot photo, such as it is. A Monster House blocks out the sun. Matt Erdman thinks the State Fair’s salsa contest was rigged. Happy birthday Mark Hamill. V.21 No.34 | 8/23/2012 The Daily Word in poodle moths, Dr. Crusher and stoner news. By Nick Brown [ Tue Aug 28 2012 11:06 AM ] Anything is possible in the year of the Poodle Moth. Bill Nye prefers science. Prince Harry’s clothes are removable. A hilarious bigfoot joke took a tragic turn. As oft they do. A man killed 70,000 chickens. But it could have been an accident. It’s never funny to joke about killing Mitt Romney. Marijuana can permanently lower your IQ. It can also make the word “permanently” echo permanently in your mind. “Permanently… permanently…” In other stoner news, this kid thought his mom was making him wear a sign as punishment. She said she was thinking about it. Not all celebrities look like they have good breath, Russell Brand. Tom Hanks’ PR people try desparately to make him appear human. Mirror, mirror on the wall. A shot was fired at Expo New Mexico. Some people get nervous when the words “fired” and “Expo New Mexico” are used in the same sentence. Jeremy Brooks and Justin Rael didn’t think they’d end up in the news. But they did. Happy birthday, Gates McFadden. V.21 No.34 | The Daily Word in natural disasters, NM oil production, water wigs By E.J. Maliskas [ Mon Aug 27 2012 9:28 AM ] 3 more New Mexicans diagnosed with the West Nile Virus. 17 villagers beheaded in southern Afghanistan for attending a party with music and mixed-sex dancing. Oil production up in New Mexico by 13 percent. Inspiring sports moments get me all emotional. If you're going to steal a phone from a quarantined man infected with the Ebola virus, you'd better be prepared to contract the Ebola virus. Police say a man in Virginia stole an officer's shoes out of the back of his cruiser. LeBron is down for Space Jam 2! Water wigs are so much cooler than they sound. Each month various local small businesses, primarily lead by women, set up shop selling anything from terrariums and '60s dresses to the perfect red lipstick. Symphony of Soil Film at Open Space Visitor Center The Albuquerque Battle Of The Bands at LaunchpadMore Recommended Events ››

Click for more "Microbes After Hours" videos Hello Dixon and Vincent! Your research and real life experience is slowly getting summarized by researchers so that it can be understood by reporters (aka those who have a disproportionately loud voice in society): The article is attempting to tie lack of MPV (microbes, parasites, viruses) to inflammatory diseases, which might be a stretch. I don't know if there is a dearth or an abundance of research for either side of this proposed relationship. But it's promising on the surface and hopefully the political forces at work destroying science in our country won't do the same for this research. An excerpt from the concluding paragraphs: "Since time immemorial, a very specific community of organisms - microbes, parasites, some viruses - has aggregated to form the human superorganism. Mounds of evidence suggest that our immune system anticipates these inputs and that, when they go missing, the organism comes unhinged." Have a fantastic week fellas! Hello Parasite hosts! I have written twip before to express my appreciation for the show. I still appreciate it very much and it still helps me get through my days auditing. I ran across this article on reddit.com/r/science, http://lifestyle.iafrica.com/wellness/813618.html , which makes this discovery sound like a guaranteed cure for all forms of Malaria with just one oral dose. Thinking that was a rather large claim I did some digging and found the original story, http://www.science.uct.ac.za/news/?id=8220&t=dn , this article is a little more reserved, though not much, with its language. I am interested in what both of you think of this? Is this the wonder drug they make it seem like? South African researcher find single dose cure for malaria: http://www.treehugger.com/health/south-african-researchers-find-single-dose-cure-for-malaria.html Dear parasitology lovers, Just came across your blog through recommendation of a colleague and heard your conversation on the worm in the eye. The name seems to be the local meaning of "worm" as quoted on page 643 in the book "A HISTORY OF HUMANHELMINTHOLOGY by DAVID I. GROVE (link: http://www.scribd.com/doc/57580301/Book) from the publication #49: GUYOT. Ophthalmie produite par des vers dans les yeux à la côte d'Angole. Abstracted in J N Arrachart's Mémoires, Dissertations et Observations de Chirurgie, Paris, pp228-233, 1805. (Originally presented to the Academy of Surgery in Paris in 1778). And if I understand correctly you claimed that Cobbold was a German. Although being a German myself Cobbold was British, a son of a Suffolk clergyman (Principles and Practice of Clinical Parasitology, Gillespie /Pearson, 2001, page 3. Dear Vincent and Dickson, I am a veterinarian with a PhD in virology, and I am in my second year of anatomic pathology residency at the New England Primate Research Center. I just recently discovered the TWiM, TWiV and TWiP series of podcasts and they are great! I am training for my first marathon and my long runs were becoming quite tedious with the same old songs on my iPod every day. Now, I download another episode of TWIP every time I head out for a long run and I always have something interesting to listen to. I enjoy TWiM and TWiV, but TWiP is especially great while I am studying for my pathology boards. Although TWiP is based mainly around human diseases, most of these parasites are, of course, also quite relevant to veterinary medicine. Your amusing anecdotes and interesting stories help to cement the life cycles of these fascinating creatures in my head and your entertaining banter makes me feel like I am running with company every time. Thanks for helping the miles fly by and keep up the good work! Topic suggestion -- I noted recently a news article regarding a treatment method for malaria that addressed the parasite's ability to cause an infected red blood cell to lodge in a capillary and thus avoid being filtered by the spleen. I don't recall you discussing this aspect of the infection. I don't know how effective the treatment is, but the fact that the parasite does this is way cool. See for example: http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/6348780 Software engineer (for a SEM manufacturer) Trematodes are commonly referred to as flukes. This term can be traced back to the Saxon name for flounder, and refers to the flattened, rhomboidal shape of the worms. re men stealing meat from lions Check out this video on YouTube: Dear Vincent and Dickson, Let me start thanking you for encouraging me to carry a healthier life. Since taking the bus to the lab each day meant a 20 mins ride, and your podcasts are usually longer, I decided to start waking up earlier and walk every day instead, that way I can hear the whole episode! I feel somehow infected by a parasite podcast that modifies my behaviour in order to be listened, reaching its objective when I arrive at the lab commenting on the last episode heard. After your discussion on the origins of the term Loa loa, I did some internet research and came up with an article published in 1991 by John D. Ruby and John E. Hall. Since it's really short, I copied it here for you to read: "It has recently been called to our attention that the word 'loa', used for centuries, first by Africans and later by parasitologists, to refer to the 'eye worm', also appears in the terminology of voodoo or Vodun where it refers to a large pantheon of deities that may possess one's soul or being. The word 'loa' may be derived from the Yoruba word 'l'awo' meaning 'mystery', but according to Bourguignon its origin remains uncertain. To the devotees of vodun, the noon hour, when the sun casts no shadow, is a perilous time. A man without a shadow is a man without a soul and therefore vulnerable to possession by such spirits as 'loa'. To ward of these spirits, believers wear amulets and cast spells. African vodun evolved in Benin, formerly Dahomey, and was brought to Haiti with slavery during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Since both adults and microfilariae of the 'eye worm' Loa are diurnal, with maximum activity occurring at noon (when the West African would be most susceptible to spirit possession), and since West African vodun and the 'eye worm' share a common geographic origin, we have reached the tentative conclusion that one is probably the etymological source for the other. Whether the helminthological Loa predated the anthropological one remains a matter of conjecture" Knowing something about the origin of the name and the way the parasite was discovered really helps to remember things better! Looking forward to your next infectious TWIP, Found the following reference for the origin of ‘Loa'. Still don't know what it means... Love the show! Laboratory Technician III Georgia Perimeter College Just to get you started <grin> Drs. Racaniello and Despommier: Did you see this about Toxoplasma gondii? Dear Vincent and Dickson, Here is a news piece very relevant for TWIP: The first congenital case of Chagas disease in the US. With a great video from Dr. Jim McKerrow. Here's the link: Thanks and keep up the great episodes! Spencer MD PhD Dear Doctor's Racaniello and Despommier, Huzzah! I have tracked down Dick's missing book on tropical medicine, or at least another copy of said book. While listening to TWIP #40, my ears perked up when Dick said he had lent a book to a student only to have it never return. A quick Google search found the following book: "Tropical Medicine and Parasitology: Classic Investigations" by Mott and Kean of Columbia University circa 1974, which I believe is the book in question. I managed to find a copy online for a steal (less than $10, including shipping!) and immediately ordered it. In 4-14 business days, I should receive a copy, which I will gladly send along to Dr. Despommier as a token of my gratitude for everything that he has done for me (more than you would think). As a pharmacist working the night shift at a popular chain store, I quickly grew tired of listening to internet radio at night and needed some further stimulation. Your podcast was one of the first that I found and I quickly listened to every episode (multiple times even). This podcast, along with a few other life changing experiences, has inspired me to completely change the direction of my life. I now have solid plans in place to go back to medical school (once my debts are knocked down a bit) with hopes of becoming an infectious disease specialist. My dream is to join Paul Farmer's organization (Partner's in Health) and practice "tropical medicine" while helping those most in need. Thank you both for all that you do and for taking the time to read my email. If you reply with a mailing address for yourselves at Columbia University, I will gladly send along the missing book once it arrives. As always, looking forward to your next TWIP! P.S. Are you missing any books Dr. Racaniello? Your work on Polio is greatly appreciated, as my grandfather suffer's from a mild case of Polio myelitis -- so it is obviously a topic that is near and dear to me. Hello Dr. Racaniello. To introduce myself, my name is Keely, and I'm currently a second-year graduate student at UCLA. I work on parasitic worms under Elissa Hallem, and I TA for the undergraduate parasitology class taught by Patricia Johnson. First off, thanks for all the podcasts. I really enjoy them, and they keep me reading new and interesting papers that are a bit outside of what is usually on my radar. Also, though I was a microbiology major with a strong interest in parasites, my undergraduate institution lacked a full parasitology course, so I learned most of my parasitology from my own reading. I really appreciated the review that TWiP gave me before I started working on parasites for my graduate program. Anyhow, I was listening to an older episode that I missed somehow, and you mentioned at some point having listeners on the show as a guest. If you ever decided to try and do this, I would love to toss my name in the hat. I am 63 years old. I became ill while serving in Vietnam at the age of 20. For 43 years I have been going to one physician after another physician. Army, VA and private physicians have never been able to identify or diagnose my illness correctly, because every treatment or medicine they gave me, oral and topical, never worked. For years I argued that I felt that it was parasitic, but the VA eventually convinced me that I had Agent Orange related illnesses and that my idea of parasites was not only futile, but hypochondriasis (a diagnosis, which they actually gave me). Well, I am still hopelessly suffering. Boils are breaking out all over my body, particularly on my scalp and arms, and I truly feel that I am in late stage severe and chronic Parasitosis, but the VA has me diagnosed with Delusional Parasitosis. Last year in November, I had three very large lesions/boils that grew so large that they burst and left large continuously draining holes (blood and infection) in my arms and scalp. I became interested in the fluid samples and began collecting them in small plastic jars with tight lids. I took these samples to the VA and asked them if they would have them tested/cultured or examined under a microscope to see if anything could be determined or diagnosed. They refused and said that their blood tests for parasites was all that they needed and it had come back negative and there was nothing else that they could or would do. So to date, after years of complaining and arguing, all that they give me in medicines is anything medicines for para After that I decided to buy a USB 200x Microscope that could take photos of what I focused on underneath the lens, which I found on Amazon marked down from $250 to $80, and examine these fluid collections on my own. Doctors Racaniello and Despommier, both of you may be surprised. Thus far (for five months now), I have 200x photographed over 3000 pictures of the fluids draining out of these non-healing, large, deep, open wounds. In January I took nearly 1000 (what I had at the time) of these photos to the VA and they wouldn't even look at them, notwithstanding that they also did not give me the necessary wound either. If what I am looking at in the photos is correct I am acutely infected with millions of nematode microfilariasis worms and flukes. Lastly, is it possible for me to send you a few of these photos (I can send them all on a snailmail CD or post them to Photo Bucket) for you to look at and advise me on whether or not they are in fact one or more of the over 10,000 nematodes that find humans as a desirable host? Thank you. Good day, doctors! I did not hesitate to write this right after hearing an email you responded on TWiP 39. I would like to thank cytotechnologist Rebecca for the comment and Dr. Dickson for additional info on how tricho is vertically transmitted from mothers to female newborns and how it could be lifelong. Not so many years ago, I had a rare opportunity to have a urinalysis result that came out which was trichomoniasis positive. The female patient who was in her early twenties denied that she had no history of sexual contact but knowing very well that tricho is a sexually-transmitted infection, I immediately did not believe her. Nevertheless, I treated her with an antiprotozoal drug. Now that I know how tricho is transmitted, I owe that patient my apology. Dear Dick and Vincent (if I may be so bold) I listened to the podcast on Leishmania this week as I prepped for my Leishmania lecture in Medical Microbiology. I was struck by Dick's comment that we didn't know what the amastigotes ate while in the the phagolysosome. I ran across an annual review in Microbiology article that seems to address the metabolic needs and potential nutrients sources for the amastigotes while in the phagolysosome. Here is the link to the paper: (Metabolic Pathways Required for the Intracellular Survival of Leishmania) I enjoy your podcasts and my students find them an easy way to approach very complex material. Keep up the good work! Firstly i would like ot say that I followed your podcasts whilst i undertook my undergraduate degree and found them useful for revision. I am now starting a PhD at Nottingham University in England this year and would like to thank you for providing such great podcasts. I would like to ask, as mosquitoes carry a number of parasites/viruses that can infect humans, is it possible for one mosquito to infect a person with more than one species of parasite/virus, for example could a person get malaria and leishmania at the same time from the one mosquito? Ok, this sounds rather unpleasant - but may explain a lot about the world :) The Brain: Hidden Epidemic: Tapeworms Living Inside People's Brains Maybe Dickson knows or maybe someone else has mentioned it, but if you wash immediately with soap and cold water poison ivy oil washes off more easily. Wash all your clothes in cold water, too. Most people want to wash with warm water (I've done it and boy did the rash spread) but cool or cold water works best. I hope his has cleared up by the time you get this! Dickson mentioned this 2 vol set on the last TWIP. This link from the World Catalog may have specifics as well as where Vol 1 can be bought, and cheaply too, it appears. Volume 2 is in the World Cat database, but not linked to any library or store -- odd. The key thing is that the title may be "Tropical Medicine and Parasitology." I found a few Vol 1's, but no Vol 2. Might a Vol 2 be sold as a Vol 1? Here is a link that at least shows a Vol 1 & 2 set has at one point been listed on Amazon, so a periodic search may eventually be productive. I like looking at old books and will keep an eye out in this area. Maybe a mention on a TWIP would alert listeners to also watch for the set. Not an expensive item. Ref deer flies: I have used these tred-not patches on my hat for several years and they are quite good. Just ordered another big batch. Sound like something Dickson can use, if he is not doing so already. Only negative aspect is that they are only good for one day. The last of my current batch were purchased last year and worked just fine. Beautiful shows, all! This is actually for TWIP, FYI (BTY: It's not easy to send to TWIP from the Nature app, because it assumes an email address.) Bovine TB disguised by liver fluke Nature News,Published online: 22 May 2012; | doi:10.1038/nature.2012.10685 I have been one of your silent fans for about a year now. And I absolutely LOVE all three of your podcasts. I am a scientist at heart and by training, but a horse trainer for my living. I recall a past podcast about a dressage barn that had an outbreak of toxoplasmosis, and I am trying to search for it, but Toxo is a very popular subject for you guys and the list is long. While I am willing to listen to all episodes again to try to find it, can you give me a hint as to which episode it was and shorten my search? Your show has been an inspiration to me as well as a fun link to my past life as a scientist. Listening to TWIM has prompted me to go on a several days long spree of reading reprints of my grandmother's research. The earliest I can find is 1933 and she is the lead author in The Journal of Bacteriology on carotenoids and Vitamin A in bacteria. She also was interested in nutrition and color inheritance in Serratia and published her research for four decades. I cant help but think that she was the rare woman bacteriologist who led by example for so many women back then. Thanks for keeping me interested and helping me know my grandmother better. Meika (pronounced: mica, like the mineral.) Doctors, I have recently discovered podcasts and the very first thing i searched for was one on parasites. I have been fascinated with parasites since grade school and will be starting my 3rd year of veterinary school in the fall so i was very excited to see a podcast devoted entirely to parasites. granted a bulk of my parasite knowledge is animal based i still very much enjoy TWIP. I started your first episode and have just finished the episode on hookworms. a few things i wanted to bring up, from the perspective of a budding veterinary parasitologist. First: A. caninum is capable of infecting young pups through the bitches milk and i was wondering if any human hookworms have been documented to do the same, at least for animals, hookworms can also be contracted from eating the 3rd larval stage (generally pica) or from eating a variety of other animals that have eaten the 3rd larval stage and act as a transport host, for example, the larva eaten by a mouse, enter a hibernation state until a cat or a dog comes along and eats the mouse. as the tissues are digested away the larva wakes up, receives environmental cues and will proceed to develop to an adult, this is a particularly common way for cats to contract A. tubaeforme given their predatory nature. Has anything similar ever been documented with a human species of hookworm? Second: as to the question of prevalence of hookworms in dogs in America, yes they are definitely endemic. they are a problem across the nation especially shelters, as are whipworms, ascarids, coccidia. Third:in one of the episodes on tapeworms Dick was comparing the pork tapeworm to the beef tapeworm and mentioned that horses and cattle are different from pigs and asked Vince why. Dicks answer was that cattle and horses are both ruminants while a pig is an omnivore, i don't know if this was an accident but horses are not ruminants, they do not have the complex foregut fermentation system of cattle, sheep, goats, deer and other similar animals, horse are hindgut fermenters and do a bulk of their digestion in their colon and cecum (appendix) but both are herbivores. and last, to Vince, you had peppered Dick with questions on what animal species had what nematode parasites, to broaden your list, ascarids are found in horses, pigs, cats, dogs, cattle, raccoons, wild canids and felids and mostly any other mammal. hookworms are just as ubiquitous in the animal kingdom. that's all for now but i am sure i'll write again, keep up the great work gents. I understand that this is a long email and will not be offended if you don't read it on the air but i would greatly appreciate answers to my questions if possible Doctors, again i write to you because a few things had slipped my mind while writing my last email. Dick, when you were describing the live cycle of ascaris, you said there was an operculum on ascarid eggs. I have seen many ascarid eggs of several species and have never seen an operculum, did you miss speak or have i just not been looking carefully enough? or is it specific to A. lumbricoides? it has always been my understanding that the operculum is rather rare in nematode species save members of the orders Oxyurida and Enoplida. speaking of Enoplida, one of the many parasites we discussed in parasitology course that is part of our curiculum was Dioctophyma renale, the giant red kidney worm, a particularly cool video of a dog in canada that was unfortunate enough to contract a few of these has been posted on youtube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ob6S_EqR1c Has there ever been a case in people that you know of? Lastly, I just listened to the Strongyloides podcast, do pigs, like people often pass the larva in their stool but in the veterinary world they are the exception, most of the time in other domestic species the eggs are what are passed does this ever happen with people? have you ever seen a Strogyloides egg? This particular parasite can be debilitating and even fatal to piglets but with the modern management techniques in the American swine industry the problem has ceased almost entirely. thanks again for humoring me gents, Hello again professors. Sorry to keep bugging you but I thought you might be interested in a website I happened upon the other day. It's a crowd sourced pseudo-video game designed by UCLA students in which the players have to identify RBCs that are infected with malaria. Here's a bit of text from the site and the link. Analysis and related diagnosis of medical images, regardless of the source and imaging modality, are tasks that require a great deal of expertise, demanding significant training of medical practitioners prior to being able to accurately interpret and diagnose such images. This is particularly true in analysis of microscopic data, creating challenges in resource-limited settings and developing countries, where properly trained health-care professionals are difficult to find. We have shown that by utilizing the innate visual recognition and learning capabilities of human crowds it is possible to conduct reliable microscopic analysis of biomedical samples and make diagnostics decisions based on crowd-sourcing of microscopic data through intelligently designed and entertaining games that are interfaced with artificial learning and processing back-ends. We demonstrated that in the case of binary diagnostics decisions (e.g., infected vs. uninfected), using crowd-sourced games it is possible to approach the accuracy of medical experts in making such diagnoses. Specifically, using non-professional gamers we report diagnosis of malaria infected red-blood-cells with an accuracy that is within 1.25% of the diagnostic decisions made by a trained professional. Wish you both the best and let me apologize again for bombarding your inbox. Hi Vince and Dick, I'm writing hoping that you haven't already been flooded with emails regarding heartworm treatment and resistance, and if you have, maybe I can still be able to contribute something. I'm a dual degree student (DVM/PhD) at Cornell University and am studying the mosquito vector ecology of heartworm. As your listener mentioned, there have been some reports of persistent microfilaremia in dogs on preventive medication. Some of the issue has been shown to be due to lack of owner compliance to administering the drug, but, after controlling for that, there have still been dogs identified with persistent microfilaremia despite preventive treatment (and often after the adults have been killed or removed), which currently is the only standard method to clear the microfilariae. This loss of efficacy is specifically of the microfilariae to clearance, not to melarsomine (Immiticide), which is the adulticide. Ivermectin formulations used as preventive/microfilaricidal, which you eventually got to during the podcast anyway! There have been some studies looking into the effect of doxycycline on clearing the Wolbachia in Dirofilaria immitis to reduce their ability to reproduce and possibly reduce microfilarial and larval fitness for transmission, which I thought you'd find interesting. I'll be sure to chime in on veterinary topics or, more likely, vector biology topics that I know something about. Also, I was surprised to hear that Dick came to speak at Cornell but I had missed it! I'll have to be more attentive next time, Keep up the good work! Dear Parasite Hosts I thought Dickson would be interested in this story from ABC's ( Australian Broadcasting Corporation) Science Show which features an interview with A/Prof Daryl Davies of USC, LA in which he discusses the potential use of ivermectin for the treatment of alcoholism. I found this recent article in Neuropharmacology from the Davies lab which describes the experimental use of ivermectin in a mouse model of alcohol dependence. I quote from the abstract: ".. in the present study we investigated the effects of this agent on several models of alcohol self-administration in male and female C57BL/6 mice. Overall, IVM (1.25-10 mg/kg, intraperitoneal) significantly reduced 24-h alcohol consumption and intermittent limited access (4-h) binge drinking, and operant alcohol self-administration (1-h)." The mechanism of action appears to be via antagonism of a purinergic receptor in the brain. In the interview, A/Prof Davies explains that in parasitic organisms, the drug acts by stimulating an excitatory glutamate chloride channel. Keep up the great work guys. I found this in the mail today from my water department and had to forward it to you guys. Looks as though my city's water is clean of any cryptosporidium parasites, but inhabitants of other middle Tennessee areas perhaps are not so lucky! Watching 'Origin of Us' a BBC2 documentary on Human evolution. In Episode 2, 'Guts', the host Dr. Alice Roberts mentions an interesting hypothesis relating to tape-worms. It appears that the lion tape worm and human tape worm are very closely related. A DNA study is used to determine the time of worm speciation. It is assumed that around this time Humans began to steal or eat the same prey as lions. Eventually the worm evolves from Humans as the intermediate, host to becoming the definitive host. Aprox 800k to 1.7 million BCE. She does not cite the work but, being a BBC doco, I have no reason to doubt the work is genuine and published somewhere. Novel idea to use tape worms for plotting meat eating in Humans. Might this help to learn how Cobbold named Loa loa. I don't have access to the journal, and didn't find the full text on line. Pubget.com finds it at the nearest university library, but it's $31. A bit steep just to satisfy curiosity. Dear Dr Racaniello and Despommier, I listened to the fascinating episode Worm in the Eye: TWIP 40 earlier this week. Coincidently, I saw this news story, about a doctor taking out a worm from the eye in Mumbai India today. http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asia-india-18640495 I thought that it would be interesting to hear Dr Despommier's expert comments about this worm/case. I apologize if this worm has already been discussed and I have just not caught up with that particular episode yet. I am curious if the doctor's statement "The worm could have travelled deeper into the eye or gone to the brain through the optic nerves, which could have been fatal" is true. Being a virologist, I know that Polio and other viruses travel through nerves but can worms too travel through nerves? Dr Despommier is a wonderful story-tellier. I find it amazing how much he can remember. Keep the awesome worm-stories coming along with some very intriguing questions from Dr Racaniello. Postdoctoral Fellow, Chandran Lab Department of Microbiology and Immunology Albert Einstein College of Medicine Dickson mentioned how crazy it is that ticks can live up to 50 years in a dormant state without taking a blood meal, and it immediately reminded me of this: After subjected to conditions within a vacuum and being blasted by an electron beam, the tick keeps ticking. Hi Drs. Racaniello and Despommier, I'm a graduate student in epidemiology and am completing my practicum this summer working as a health inspector in a coastal town. One of the health agents I work with used to be a chef at one of the local restaurants. She described to me (warning this is gross!) how they used to use tweezers to pull out little (~1" worms) from cod and swordfish that would later be cooked in served. My questions for you: do you have any idea what these worms might be? And, is there any chance that ingesting them (or perhaps eggs/larvae, etc.) of these worms would make humans sick? Regardless, still pretty nasty. Keep up the great podcasts! I have a long commute usually and have been twipping and re-twipping. What up Doc's? I'm writing to voice my complete disagreement with the sentiments of Sven Urban, in his letter on TWIP 38, that you as hosts are prone to engage in a ‘degree of banter which is distracting'. I'm sure Dickson does not mind being antagonised, and like caffeine on an adenosine receptor the antagonist in this case is a vital educational aide serving to keep me awake. I will concede the point that Dr. Racaniello is most often the instigator of these disruptions. For negative control please see the first episode of TWiV which Alan and Rich did on their own - this ran disappointingly efficiently, depriving me of company and edu-tainment on the latter half of a long commute to uni. I will end with this observation - If you can't play as a child you can't be imaginative, and the last thing we need is scientists without imagination (I believe these are called accountants btw). You have this listener's permission to be as disruptive as you like. Keep up the good work. Melbourne, Australia (26◦C Partly Cloudy) PS: Consider this my vote against This Week in Old Guys Reading Aloud from Textbooks (TWiOGRAFT). Hi Vince, hi Dick, my name is Liesbeth and I'm doing my Masters in Epidemiology of Infectious Diseases at the Oswaldo Cruz Institute in Rio de Janeiro. I started to follow TWIV a couple weeks ago and now I'm absolutely infected with TWIP and trying to catch up with TWIM also. Thank you so much for this great initiative, for the effort and time dedicated... it's really appreciated and highly contagious! Keep up with the amazing podcasts! All the best, Dear TWIP Team 30-40 years ago, completely unaware of giardia, when hiking in the high Sierra we commonly drank from mountain streams without any ill effect. There's much greater awareness since then, but I wonder if the risk of infection has really increased. i.e. if drinking from fast flowing streams at high elevations is as safe now as then. What do you think? Vincent Racaniello and Dick Despommier- you guys are GREAT! I discovered TWiP one month ago and so far I'm addicted, I don't know how many guys in Kenya listen to TWiP, I suspect I'm the only one but I'm quickly spreading the gospel. I have special interest in the Leishmania podcast because I came across so many patients with Kala Azar especially during my internship year in Eldoret- Kenya, last year and I have seen firsthand the kind of clinical havoc the parasite can cause. A few questions; Q.1 Why do patients with Kala Azar have pancytopaenia (most of the time-severe)? Q.2 Apart from the BMA and the Splenic Aspirate, what are the rapid diagnostic methods that are available and how accurate are they? The doctors working for MSF- (doctors without borders) in Pokot (an area near the border of Kenya and Uganda where Visceral Leishmaniasis is endemic) usually base there diagnosis on epidemiology and some rapid testing methods and start treatment- mainly sodium stybogluconate but some patients still die, so over to my next Q.3 How effective is Sodium Stybogluconate in the treatment of Kala Azar? Is Amphotericin B more effective despite its side effects? Observations: In Kenya the most vulnerable age group are kids around the age of 6 years because they play on and around anthills where most sandflies are found. Prof. Despommier and Prof. Racaniello, it would be really great if you give lectures in Kenya- the medical fraternity here will really appreciate it. Dr. Arthur Mumelo - Medical Officer - rural Kenya. I am a new to the podcast. I gotta say I love the repartee. I find it entertaining and it sometimes adds suspense when the answers are put off for a bit. As a disclaimer: I am an avid CarTalk fan. Your names, Vincent and Dickson, even share an alliteration component like Click and Clack. Roxanne, PhD (microbiologist turned forensic DNA analyst, public health hopeful) In the early TWiP episodes Dr. Despommier spoke at length about neurocysticercosis. You mentioned that the neurocysticercoses remain dormant and the patient is asymptomatic (unless they obstruct the foramen magnum) until they begin to die and subsequently cease to suppress immune response. My question is, if cestodes that become neurocysticercoses have no aging genes what causes them to die? Is it because they are encysted and can't gather nutrients from their environment? I had some questions regarding the difficulties in producing successful vaccinations for sleeping sickness. From my understanding, the biggest trouble is that as the immune system produces effective antibodies and the trypanosome populations decline in the host, gene expression for molecules making up the outer VSG coats in progeny switch to quiet genes thus changing the VSG molecules and rendering the host's current antibodies useless. Why can't we vaccinate against all of these antigen variations? If that is impractical, why can't we vaccinate against every 10th antigen, for instance, so that once the trypanosomes turn on one of those genes it is then eliminated by the host's inoculated immune system? I'm also curious as to whether the trypanosomes always begin their life in their host with the same VSG or if it will vary its first expressed gene. If it always starts in the same place and uses a specific order, we could better select which ones to make vaccines for. Since the trypanosomes switch these genes in a specific order, can we catalog this progression in a model and use that as a reference for the host's current and future antigens? If so, we could select the most relevant vaccine that would be effective against the impending wave of new antigens, playing the waiting game for our target gene to be switched on. Sorry for the barrage of questions, this just had me thinking the last few days. It seems to me a vaccine for this should be easy - but obviously I'm wrong! First off I want to thank you both for an excellent and entertaining podcast. I am a regular listener and I enjoy your show immensely! I had a question regarding the "successful systems attract parasites" quote. Dr Despommier mentioned that this quote had won a poll in which readers were asked to vote for the pithiest statement on biological research over a specific time frame (or perhaps that best summarized 100 years of biological research??). As part of an upcoming faculty lecture series, I am preparing a talk on how- at least from an ecological perspective- that statement is perhaps better worded this way: "parasites play key roles in defining and structuring successful systems". Unfortunately I have been unable to find any reference to this poll online, and I was hoping Dr Despommier would be so kind as to remind me of the details (what publication / organization ran the poll, what were the "rules" of the contest). Thanks for your time, and I look forward to more awesome podcasts in the future! Christopher Blanar, Ph.D. Assistant Professor of Biology Division of Math, Science, and Technology Farquhar College of Arts and Sciences Nova Southeastern University Re: using sari cloth to filter water to reduce cholera, the agent being filtered is a copepod that carries Vibrio, not the Vibrio itself: "In laboratory experiments employing electron microscopy, we found that inexpensive sari cloth, folded four to eight times, provides a filter of [about] 20 [microns] mesh size, small enough to remove all zooplankton, most phytoplankton, and all V. cholerae attached to plankton and particulates [greater than] 20 [microns]." Links to download a pdf of the PNAS paper: Reduction of cholera in Bangladeshi villages by simple filtration PS, I wrote to TWIV previously regarding hyperparasitoids. I really like the extended format and the fact that your shows feature people who know what they're talking about, or admit that they don't know. Hi Vincent and Dickson, Love all your podcasts. I just wanted to write in to clarify a couple of things that were said on a couple of recent TWiP episodes. On TWiP 37, you were discussing the use of water filtration in the eradication efforts of dracunculiasis and the subject of the work of Rita Colwell came up in which she used sari filtration to filter out Vibrio cholerae from natural water sources. Dickson mentioned that this might be possible due to V. cholerae's long flagellum. In fact, the reason this is possible is because of V. cholerae's affinity for chitin. The majority of the bacteria in nature tend to be attached to small crustacean zooplankton. It is this property that allows enough of the bacteria to be filtered out of the water to significantly reduce the incidence of cholera in areas using this practice. Thus, because of this, I think it would be unlikely that this type of filtration would have a significant effect on removing other enteric bacteria (infectious dose playing a role here too). On TWiP 38, you were discussing Babesia, and Dickson said that the species was bigemina. However, B. bigemina is vectored by Boophilus ticks and is the cause of a cattle disease known as 'Texas cattle fever' or 'red-water fever'. In the United States, Babesia microtiis the species that most commonly infects humans and is vectored by Ixodes scapularis ("deer tick") in the U.S. Northeast and New England regions. Thus, it is B. microti that is the most important species infecting humans and has a deer tick - rodent life cycle. Since it infects red blood cells, it has also been an issue for the blood supply. Just wanted to clarify those two statements not as criticism, but more to get the correct information out there. Keep up the great work with the podcasts. Chris Whitehouse, Ph.D. Microbiologist working for the U.S. Government in the Washington, D.C. Area I've enjoyed listening to your your TWIP podcast. You are a wonderful story teller and though I have worked in this field a bit as well, I never fail to learn something. I listen in the car on Sticher. My kids think I'm weird but they like it too. In the episode today (1MAR12) on dracunculosis, you made the natural connection that we come across cyclops both in Malaria and the Guinea Worm programs, but in the podcast you mentioned a couple times that mosquito larvae eat the cyclops and I think you probably meant the converse. We add cyclops to family water jars in Cambodia to eat the mosquito larvae. Anyway keep up the great work. You strike a nice balance of making the field more approachable, while keeping it interesting enough even for the grouches. Allan, DIH, MPH Love the TWIPs! I'm a helminth user (25 hookworm for allergies), so your programs are fascinating! Dr. Racaniello, after listening to TWIP 33 where you were discussing the history of your surname, I thought I'd give your listeners a way to remember your obviously Italian name. It's the rap song, "Black and Yellow"! lol http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=ITKR7OZyyOw please do NOT abandon your style ever!! Even if there´s some privacy in there, be it fishing or simply the weather or whatever, it has to be in your podcasts because it makes them authentic! Even more, talking like you with so much commitment and humor increases the amount of learning. You know why! I always tried to be a good teacher (for natural sciences at a german secondary school since more than 20 years) exactly in that way. And scientific researches in recent years have approved that the brain of all ages learns better and more effectively with these attributes. Here you are: And remember, just because informations cause an emotional response, and that means attention is rising: Please keep on with your excellent work, you are pioneers in science and "face-to-face" interaction, greetings from Wiesbaden, Germany Dear Dickson & Vincent, I recently delivered a lecture to nursing students at Kilimanjaro Christian Medical Centre in Tanzania, on a subject that Dickson is very well versed, Trichinella. I am a medical entomologist & have no knowledge of Trichinella so quickly had to do some reading & piece together a basic lecture. In the process of preparing the lecture I was left with a couple of questions that I hope Dickson can answer. 1- In East Africa the species is Trichinella nelsoni. My understanding is that there have been very few human cases reported (200 ish) and they have all come from eating undercooked warthog or bushpig. In Tanzania pork meat from domestic pigs is commonly eaten (on a sidenote pork is called "kiti moto" in swahili which translates to "hot chair"- possibly because if the muslim population of Tanzania get caught secretly eating pork they will be in big trouble, or the "hot chair"). I was left wondering why T.nelsoni has not made the jump from wild pigs & warthogs into domestic pigs? I was asked this question in class & my explanation was that it could be due to geographic isolation as warthog/wildpigs are mainly found in "bush" and savannah areas where usually only Maasai are found. Maasai keep cattle, sheep, & goats but not pigs. Do you think this is a reasonable explanation? How would you have answered this question? With rapid population growth in Tanzania do you think expanding human settlements could result in T.nelsoni making the jump into domestic pigs & resulting in more human cases? 2- In the excellent book, "Manson's Tropical Diseases" the T. nativa Arctic cycle shows that polar bears can become infected by eating raw walrus and seal meat. How do seals & walrus become infected with Trichinella? Don't they eat fish?? Looking forward to hearing your thoughts. Hello Vincent & Dickson! I'd like to thank you for the superb podcasts I've had the pleasure of enjoying the past few months. Not having any previous interest in parasitism or virology, I downloaded a few podcasts on a whim and was immediately hooked! Working a night shift by myself in the biology building of a university calls for TWIx podcasts for entertainment. While listening to the TWIP episode on hookworm, I noticed a ton of slides left out in a lab room full of microscopes. What was on them? Parasites galore! I took the liberty of finding slides of hookworm in various stages of life cycles and got to follow along during the podcast and actually see with my own eyes real examples of what you guys were describing under the microscope - it was awesome! I really enjoy being able to learn from TWIP being a non-scientist (although I'm going back to school for physics soon, so I'll be in the scientist club before too long!). I have to look things up to follow along in TWIV, and TWIM is often way over my head, but I try to listen to both anyway, they're always interesting. I've since listened to all the TWIPs and would love to hear new ones added more often. I'm also looking forward to adding Dickson's new book West Nile Story right beside my recently read copy of Parasite Rex. Sorry for the lengthiness of the email! Thanks for mentioning my email and talking about my obscure profession! Cytotechs screen pap smears in addition to fine needle aspirations from just about any body site. A normal day consists mainly of screening pap smears, but I get to look at some lung, thyroid, liver cells, etc. Legally, we have to screen all paps at an appropriately licensed lab with a Medical Director and Technical supervisor. Gone are the days of screening in your underwear at home - well, maybe some folks can still screen in their underwear. My workplace frowns on it. A lot of slides are still hand screened on an regular ol' light microscope, but some are analyzed by a computer first. All slides must be screened by a cytotech or pathologist - the computer just uses an proprietary algorithm to determine the areas of the slide with the highest probability of abnormal cells to guide our screening. We send all slides we diagnose as abnormal to a Pathologist. He or she has the final say. In addition to looking for cancerous or precancerous cells, we also look for non-cancerous infectious agents. HSV and CMV produce some gorgeous cells! Check google images for HSV or CMV cytology. As far as it being kind of boring to just look through the scope all day: you have do enjoy looking through the microscope or you will quickly go insane in this line of work. I personally enjoy the focused attention this work requires - it's like mediation for me. Bonus: I get to listen to awesome podcasts while helping people. Additionally, the microscope rarely back-sasses me, so I don't have to deal with any workplace conflict or stress:) Thanks again for the podcast! My name is Dan and I'm considering becoming an epidemiologist. I discovered your podcast and am slowly working my way through all of the old episodes, which I find extremely fascinating. Forgive me if it's already been mentioned on your show as I am listening to the episodes in chronological order and haven't yet arrived at the most recent one, but I would like to recommend a book called "Parasites: Tales of Humanity's Most Unwelcome Guests" by Rosemary Drisdelle. I recently purchased this novel and it served as a wonderful primer for your show and as fantastic "thought food". If you can recommend any books, journals, or other publications that would be helpful for a budding young student such as myself I'd be very appreciative. I know for certain that with my next paycheck I'll be buying Mr. Despommier's "Parasitic Diseases". Thank you very much for publishing this podcast! I'm very happy that I've discovered it. Thanks for the podcast! I wanted to add a quick note about diagnosing trich: As a cytotechnologist, I diagnose trich on pap smears daily. I imagine this is how a lot of ladies find out they are infected. Greetings Dickson and Vincent, A cool overcast 14°C on the Eastern Mediterranean coast of Turkey as I write this. Further to my question on a previous TWiP about whether parasites that used blood feeding vectors made the host more attractive to the vector I found this article on parasitic manipulation in vector-borne diseases and this 2005 study which indicates that malarial parasites do manipulate their mosquito vector's biting behaviour: The results look positive even if the number of test subjects was very small. It was a slow day at work so I had time to spend on the internet. A couple of other interesting items I found: A new genus and species of leech (Tyrannobdella rex) from Perú that feeds from the mucous membranes of animals and when feeding may remain in situ for several days. Blood feeding by proxy - the East African jumping spider Evarcha culicivora feeds on vertebrate blood by preferentially preying on blood-fed Anopheles mosquitoes. Not a parasite, but still interesting. I would also like to suggest a possible guest for TWiP - Dr James Logan of the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine http://www.lshtm.ac.uk/aboutus/people/logan.james I'm an amateur at this, looking for some help with identification. These are in human blood, drawn at night via pin prick to the finger, magnified about 300x. No additives or stains. Nocturnal periodicity, so not found by any more conventional method. Note the thin, translucent folds on the head shot, and "V" shaped head. I was thinking mansonella, but the egg and nocturnal periodicity are not right for mansonella. M. perstans has a ribbon-y quality at the tail, not mid-body. p.s. Also wondering what the object is at 3:00 on the tail shot. A POTENTIALLY lethal tick infection newly identified in Australia has mysteriously emerged on the NSW south coast. Doctors have revealed the first reported Australian case of human babesiosis, a tick-borne infection that carries a 5 to 10 per cent fatality rate, higher than the death rate from the most common tick bite infections. The victim was a 56-year-old man from the south coast who died, it is thought, partly as a result of babesiosis. In a report published today in the Medical Journal of Australia , doctors say the infection probably contributed to his death from multi-organ failure last April. The report of the first babesiosis case in Australia thought to have been locally acquired had raised ''intriguing questions'' about how the infection is spread in Australia, the lead author of the report, Sanjaya Senanayake, of the Australian National University, said. I was reading news from my childhood home, Louisiana, and saw an article about a surge of heartworm infection due to a warmer and wetter than normal winter (more mosquitoes roughly translates to more heartworm infection). The more concerning statement though: "...even more disturbing is that some dogs, who have been on a heartworm preventative medication, are still coming down with the potentially fatal disease." Can you offer some details and insights into what the vets are seeing? Hi TWiP Team Hello Monsieur Despommier & signore Racaniello, Before all, sorry for my English. And It's now 24°C in southern France. First water restrictions of the year. My research years were oriented toward food safety & ferments selection. A.k.a fight Listeria in food with other bacterias or cheese ecology. During, this previous life, I've found some some pretty amazing cheese ferments. And I'm quite sure the smell & taste of some the resulting raw milk cheeses would have killed mosquitoes & parasites alike. I've recently listen the oldest TWIV & TWIP, with exceptional pleasure. I would like to follow on Mr Despommier comment about the 1981 movie "Quest for fire" (TWIP 10), & his suggestion that parasites exchanges between modern & Neanderthal humans could have been deletarian for Neanderthal. Now, with proof that those populations have reached a certain level of intimacy, at least in the case of the Denisovans. What kind of traces paleoparasitologists could find to conclude that this was indeed hapenning : traces on bones, eggs or cysts in caves soils. Or at the, now available, genetic makers. Ex : drepanocytosis ? There was also wooly mammoth, sabberthoot tigers & bears in the film. Do people get parasites by eating elephants, bears or big cats meat, because it seems that the megafauna was a frequent part of the neandertal diet and vice versa ? I've also heard about tiger, bear or canid meat in today asia, & seen hippopotamus meat in Togo. Other info, I was 7 in 1982, when I & most of my school mates saw the film. No one have been bothered by the most "X-rate" part, but we were freaked by the "eat people alive bits by bits" part. Today the film is frequently seen in school by children between 7 to 10 years old. Best regards, & all my thanks for those amazing efforts. PS : For Mr Despommier La Tour vivante (The Living Tower) Dear Vincent Racaniello and Dickson Despommier I am an avid listener of TWIP since its start, have been following TWIV for at least two years and, surprise, also follow TWIM. My field is Computer Science, but I crave for information in all areas I find interesting. To me, your Podcasts fill the role of giving me very pleasurable conversations on science, and help me better understand fields where nature dictates the validation of the research. In my field we often deal with the construction of artifacts that are validated by their mathematical properties, so the validation process is a bit more detached from nature. What prompted me to write now is that I just listened to the start of TWIP #33 and your discussion of how google scholar indexes more publications and citations, than PubMed I believe, but with a more messy presentation format. You might find it useful to explore a new tool that allows authors to aggregate papers in a specific google scholar author page. After one does that, its easy to sort by publication year, impact etc. Take a look at the following link to see how to set it up: The strong point is that the tool makes it very easy to identify (and separate) your own publications and co-authors. For more common author names its often a mess to separate one's articles from the other homonymous authors. Keep doing the excellent job of promotting interest in your fields and science in general. Universidade do Minho, Just watching a clip on cellular metabolism. The background music was the Vangelis theme from Carl Sagan's Cosmos. A very great sadness came over me. He looked outward whilst you guys look inward, so to speak. I feel sure he would have loved your shows and would eagerly have embraced podcasting. You are doing the inner Cosmos. love the show. You listed csf, blood, lymph, urine, aqueous humor, cochlear fluid, and semen. I'd like to suggest that there are more than 7. Ignoring interstitial fluid and cytosol I'm fairly sure that bile is sterile before it leaves the gall bladder. Synovial fluid within the joints is typically sterile, the falopian tubes/ ovaries are bathed in sterile fluid. Tears are also sterile before they are cried I believe. Drs. Vincent Racaniello and Dickenson Despommier, I'm a Masters student doing research on Soil Microbes, and in my research have come across papers referencing Mollicutes (phytoplasmas, mycoplasmas, ureaplasmas, and spiroplasmas are examples). Are there any parasitic mollicutes that actively infect humans and cause detrimental symptoms? Taking the image challenge on the NEJM site i guessed wrong on a lung sputum sample. Desperately trying to recall lung involvement parasite. Of course not, dummy. Too quick on the mouse. It was a bloody egg in the lung, not a juvenile organism, and I don't think Ascaris does the disgusting stomach to lung thing? Turned out to be paragonimus. -> Paragonimiasis I don't recall that one in twip Ignore last email D'oh! I realize you guys did touch on paragonimus. TWiP 27: Trematodes Must have some in my brain. Anyway, here's the link. Docs R & D, At the end of your A. lumbricoides program you discussed problems related to Toxocara canis & T. cati infection in humans, namely VLM & OLM. Dick said it would be great if someone surveyed dog runs in NYC, or nearby, for Toxocara eggs. Sampling & counting eggs sounded relatively straightforward, piece of cake was mentioned a couple times. Such a survey would be an excellent topic for an enterprising high school student, with some help from a famous parasitologist or virologist, or someone they may know. Give it some thought. I am reading Dick's book pick a while back, "The Fever" by Shah and find it fascinating. As an anthropologist, I am well acquainted with the sickle trait balanced polymorphism, but under-appreciated the impact malaria had on human history. The rapid spread of the parasite in the US hit home after reading how fast it infected areas of New England after the environment was altered by the building of mill ponds. It took only a few returning soldiers from the Civil War to infect whole towns. Incredible. My wife took a parasitology class a few years ago and had to draw many of the specimens you have discussed. She thought Giardia trophozoites were "cute" with their little faces. After going though a Giardia infection, I'll tell you how cute they are. As much as I love TWiP, I am happy with the longer break between episodes so I have time for the many other terrific podcasts like TWiV, TWiM, Science Friday Video (a favorite, if you haven't seen it), NYTs The Minimalist, Science Now, Nature, Archeology Channel, RadioLab, among others. So many podcasts, so little time. And, I have to know how you selected the fun but creepy opening music and great hard-driving riffs at the close of the show. Good stuff. Listening to you right now on Science 360 Radio. You mentioned this post and I had to comment. As a former nurse epidemiologist who worked in County Public Health Practice, I am a strong proponent for vaccination. I worked a number of vaccine preventable disease outbreaks including rubeola (measles) which resulted in individuals becoming needlessly seriously ill. Very much enjoy TWIV and TWIP and TWIM....My mother was also a nurse who worked in public health before most vaccines were available. She saw the tragic cases of diseases which resulted in great morbidity and mortality. I could go on and on about the good vaccines do. Thank you Professor Racaniello. Kudos to you and all who assist in the productions of your wonderful podcasts. Dr. Despommier is a treat. I have so many interesting experiences with all kinds of reportable diseases and conditions including on how I became a nurse instead of a medical illustrator or possibly a physician. I sustained a needle stick pre recombinant HBV vaccine while working my way through college in a teaching hospital. I carry natural immunity to hepatitis B now. Didn't get extra credit in my micro class, however. retired from public health but never tired of pathogens and learning about them... Hello Vincent and Dickson. I just came from my first jury in a monographic work where the student cited TWIP. The monograph title was "Trichinosis: from the parasite to the ecosystem". I was very impressed with the "watermark" left by TWIP on the student, and happy that my friend (her supervisor) suggested her to listen to TWIP. One of my colleagues from the jury commented the text looked like a romance. She appreciated the "stories". :) Thank you both for the really great work you are doing. Ricardo Magalhaes, Ph.D. Associate Professor of Microbiology Faculty of Health Sciences of Fernando Pessoa University In episode 16 on Giardia you discuss Antonie van Leeuwenhoek and his early adventures with a microscope. Here are a couple of interesting resources which discuss him: Firstly an article in the ASM magazine claiming that Leeuwenhoek gets too much credit for his discoveries, some of which should be shared by Robert Hooke of the Royal Society of London. http://forms.asm.org/microbe/index.asp?bid=27982 Secondly, an excellent BBC documentary "The Cell", which begins with Hooke and Leeuwenhoek. http://topdocumentaryfilms.com/cell/ You have also mentioned Paul De Kruif's book "The Microbe Hunters" as one of the few sources for information on the history of germ theory and microbiology. A recently published book (also from the ASM) addresses the same area, most likely with a less idiosyncratic style than the dated De Kruif volume: Germ Theory: Medical Pioneers in Infectious Diseases Robert P. Gaynes Just while writing this email I discovered the ASM book store with a section of the history of science http://estore.asm.org/browse/index.asp?plid=2&categoryid=20. (I have no connection with the ASM!) I am currently re-listening to all of your TWIP podcasts, having listened to them all at least twice when they were first released. They're are just that good! I really love the beginner-level approachability of the first 30 or so episodes. It would be great if you could cover a small number of highly important non-parasitic diseases, such as cholera, in the same style. I'd really like to hear the details of your efforts to convert Dickson's text to electronic format for access over the web. Lessons learned should be useful to anyone with similar thoughts. How is it different from creating such a work from raw materials? I'd prefer it as part of the TWIP's, if that is acceptable. I'm still hear all the TWIM, TWIP and TWIV's, but my podcast listening load is heavy (60/wk) and production of a weekly blog about the best entries is slow for an old-timer. Loved Dickson's link to the stop-action high-speed photos of the liquid drops. Dear Profs Racaniello and Despommier, As a long time listener of TWiP (and for that matter TWiV and TWiM) I feel obliged as well as entitled to express some - mild - criticism that I feel and hope is appropriate. While Your mutual friendship is a much valued aspect of the show, I think it might lead You to a degree of bantering that interferes with the contents. Slightly too often I find Your discussion interrupted by mutual jibes, which make me lose the thread of thought. I would say that generally, though not exclusively, Dr Racaniello is the instigator of these interruptions. I am, of course, not now referring to those abundant, seriously intended and equally seriously phrased questions that Dr Racaniello interjects, but rather about occasional stray comments and jibes that appear in private between very close friends. I think the term "in private" here is crucial, as I doubt that You would express Yourselves like this were the two of You jointly presenting before a class. Today I could, by the way, compare TWiP #37 ("Dracunculiasis") with TWiV #172 ("Two can be as bad as one", with Kathy Spindler) - both in a one-on-one setting - and the difference in tone is remarkable. Naturally I speak here only for myself, of course, but I for one would appreciate if You might henceforth tone down the sparring, keeping in mind that You do actually appear before a large, international audience, not all of whom might appreciate or be able to follow Your bantering. (And just to be precise, "tone down" does not necessarily mean "discard".) This notwithstanding I am very grateful for the set of podcasts You so graciously provide us all with! Sincerely and Respectfully, Yours This from http://thefreedictionary.com: - plural noun 1. Often, Acta. official records, as of acts, deeds, proceedings, transactions, or the like < L, neut. pl. of āctus, ptp. of agere to do; cf. act The TWIP podcasts again emphasize to me the difference between hearing first-hand from someone with experience in contrast to hearing material regurgitated by someone with book-knowledge. It made a world of difference listening to a trauma surgeon or an emergency physician from a trauma center speak in contrast to similar material presented by someone without direct experience. Greetings Dickson and Vincent! I am a new listener and I am thoroughly enjoying working my way through the TWiP and TWiM podcasts. I found your conversation regarding Draculunculiasis very informative. I think it is great that you spent a good portion of time emphasizing the necessity for clean water for overall public health. It is something that we often take for granted here in the U.S. Something caught my attention though. You talked about the use of cheap cloth to filter water in the prevention of Guinea worm and mentioned that it was unfortunate that this wouldn't prevent diarrheal diseases. I attended a session at the ASM general meeting a few years ago to the contrary. While Sari cloth won't prevent viral borne diseases, it does seem to reduce the incidence of Cholera. Here's the link to the study which was published in the first issue of mBio: Assistant Professor of Biology Dear Drs. Twipaniello and Twipommier, On the topic of the Dracunculus life cycle: Is there evidence that a male is required for fertilization? Some nematodes are parthenogenic and "virgin birth" for this worm would be a nice compliment to the biblical story of the cadueceus (sp??). Keep up the good work, I`ve heard that Toxoplasma gondii might be caught by touching a leech. What`s the general consensus on this? Thanks and keep up the great work. Dick Despommier is often talking about the importance of ecology when understanding parasitism. Does he have any suggestions for good introductory texts to the subject for someone of my lowly level? I recently came across this article, which led me to the idea of Oogst. Has Professor Despommier come across this, and how does he view it in relation to the idea of Vertical Farming? Sorry but I wanna share a non-parasite related news story with you guys. Came across this article about how the government in Singapore is deciding to invest in roof-top gardens here, as a measure of controlling the recent cases of flash flooding here. When I read it, i was reminded of Dr Despommier's brain child, the Vertical Farm. I guess this is not exactly a farm but it has a lot in common and displays another way of how incorporating fauna in cities can help solve problems in an urban setting. You guys may choose to read this email on your Vertical Farming Podcast instead of TWIP. That should be coming pretty soon right? *cheeky grin. Love the show Dear Dickson and Vincent, (Not sure if I sent this to the right place on the microbe world website, but as I noticed that you gave this email address at the end of the podcasts I thought I'd try it as well...) Thanks for your wonderful series of podcasts; I have been working my way through all of TWIP and you are currently keeping me sane whilst I data-enter several thousand clinical records from a malaria prevalence survey. I also have TWIV on CDs which I listen to in my car on my commute route to my workplace in Muheza, North East Tanzania. And I'm very excited by TWIM which I will indulge in soon. I am a medical entomologist currently working on insecticide-treated materials against malaria vectors and have a question which I hope you'll discuss on TWIP in relation to malaria but also in a broader context. It is this: do you think we already have enough tools to control (many) infectious diseases and that funding should be channeled into improved application/delivery of those tools and away from the search for novel techniques and 'blue sky' research? For malaria, we already have a diverse arsenal of proven weapons and auxiliary tools including bed nets, indoor residual spraying, intermittent preventative treatment, house screening, rapid diagnostic tests; GPS and mobile phone systems have vastly improved surveillance, we have subsidized and highly effective frontline drugs for treatment, amazing repellents and lures for mosquitoes etc. etc. People like Fred Soper and Malcolm Watson were incredibly successful at reducing malaria 60+ years ago with a much more limited arsenal. You might say that there was much less resistance to insecticides and anti-malarial drugs in those days, but in recent times two brilliant weapons emerged that are still being used, to which there was no resistance, i.e. pyrethroid insecticides and artemisin-based combination therapy (ACTs). What do you think are the major stumbling blocks in infectious disease control? Is the health sector too slow to act on research findings*? Many thanks and keep up the good work. Matt, National Institute for Medical Research, Tanzania & London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine p.s. I wrote this before I saw the topic of Twip 35! I hope this question is still relevant (and I'm going to listen to that episode now once I can download it!) p.p.s. I thought you might like to know that my two dogs are named after you! (Vincent and Dickson - jpg) Dr Matthew J Kirby Fieldsite Project Manager PRISM Amani Research Centre National Institute for Medical Research Dear Doctors R&D, I love your podcast! It is wonderful to listen to commuting to work and while I am working as the support technician for the chemistry and microbiology teaching labs at our small state college. My favorite thing about your show is that the format is similar to the "seminar" or "journal club" courses that were my favorite in graduate school (that was back when I too wanted to be a "dr.", before I became a lapsed microscope jockey. Maybe I will go back to grad school....maybe...some day). Basically these 1-2 credit courses consisted of grad students getting together with a professor to pick apart papers in specific disciplines such as microbiology (we went over the "old" "elegant" research that was the foundation of modern microbiology), microbial genetics (we called that one "cloning club), current topics in molecular biology, current topics in elasmobranch biology, and current topics in shellfish aquaculture. My background is in fish and shellfish pathology, specifically the microbial and parasitic (and molecular aspects thereof) diseases of cultured fish and shellfish. Bearing that in mind, while I realize that you focus your podcasts on human/public health issues related to parasitism, might you consider doing an episode about epizootic parasites (or microbes or viruses) that impact humans economically and/or ecologically? Some examples that come to mind are my good friends QPX (quahog parasite unknown) or Perkinsus marinus in the New England shellfishery, "bumper car" disease in Long Island Sound lobsters, or the recent controversy surrounding the ISAV (infectious salmon anemia virus) outbreak in the Pacific Northwest. Then of course there are always parasites that are just fun for their "gross" factor like "salmon poisoning disease". Regardless if your decision regarding the discussion of parasitism of non-human animals I will continue to look forward to your TwiP, TwiV, and TwiM podcasts. P.S. I read "Parasite Rex" as a freshman in college and it is still one of my favorite books! P.P.S. "Monsters Inside Me" sometimes grosses me out, and that is saying a lot for it's accuracy! Dear Drs. Despommier and Racaniello, I am almost caught up listening to TWiP! I look forward to your future efforts and eBooks, etc., however, in TWiP # 32, I thought I heard you mention that there would be a link to Dr. Despommier's lectures. I couldn't wait to go to your website and check them out. Unfortunately, the link was missing. You know what they say about the missing link, don't you? It must be a cryptid! But seriously, hope you will post the link to the lectures at your next opportunity. Please? :-) I am dreading listening to # 33 because there are no more TWiPs available yet. I live in a semi tropical climate in SW Florida so tropical diseases and parasites are especially interesting. The only good thing about being current with your series, is that I can start to catch up on TWiVs and TWiMs. I did find Dr. Racaniello's lectures in Virology on iTunes and am watching this series. I started with the hepatitis Delta virus. It is of special interest to me as are all forms of viral hepatitis. Dr. Despommier, please consider doing a podcast on vertical farming and even throw in some other tidbits of gardening wisdom. I took the user survey as you request. Perhaps the results will help you in your future efforts. The way you two work together on TWiP makes for a delightful experience. Science, medicine and pathogens "float my boat" so it is a great pleasure to have two learned professors so engaged in interesting discussions. I have written before. Hope this isn't too much. Consider that you are talking (via my earbuds) straight into my noggin: I feel like I know you both and it is an honor. Vincent & Dickson, My wife pointed me to TWIP and what a blast. My 23 year old son and I are making our way through the early episodes during our commute to and from work and loving every minute of it. After listening to the tapeworm episodes I will NEVER pet a dog from Wyoming or any other of the sheep states. I'm not sure if you have covered the evolution of parasites, we're only up to episode 9, but that must be as crazy as ever. Surely you have enough material for several years worth of podcasts, but I'd like to hear a bit about how an animal accumulates such a bizarre life history. Dear TWiP team. I was speculating about parasites that modify host behaviour and a possible strategy that may have evolved in those transmitted by blood feeding vectors. To achieve optimum transmission of the parasite uninfected blood feeding insect vectors should find infected hosts more attractive than uninfected ones and once the insect vector had itself become infected its behaviour should change so that it would then preferentially seek uninfected hosts. Has any research been done to determine whether any parasites that employ blood feeding vectors actually do modify host smell and vector preference in this manner? As I was writing I was thinking of arthropod vectors such as mosquitoes and biting flies but it occurred to me that there are other possible blood feeding vectors such as vampire bats and leaches whose behaviour could also be potentially modified in this way. Are there any zoonotic infections that are transmitted by leach vectors? Lastly, I have seen blood feeders described as Hematophagous and Sanguivorous are these synonymous, and if not what is the correct/preferred term? Hello, Vincent & Dick, This month's issue of The Scientist has this interesting article: Can't help wondering, somewhat uneasily, what our own parasites make us do! In your discussion of Wolbachia in filariasis, Vincent suggested tetracycline for therapy. Dickson opined that it was too toxic and expensive . Au contraire, in the QID form it is "dirt cheap" and has been used widely since the mid 50's. Prolonged use does cause mottling of the teeth, and florescence of the bones under Woods light, not a problem for most of us. Wonderful Podcast, and deeply appreciated. Thanks Top O' The Mornin' To Ya! (I'm not Irish - I just like the phrase..) I would like to thank you for putting together such an excellent podcast. I'm currently a Med Tech working in a parasitology laboratory and enjoy my days searching through blood and pooh for those tiny life forms that you describe so well. I was introduced to the world of parasites by a course I took as an undergrad. The course instructor was one Dr. James B. Jensen. Judging from your earlier talks, I trust that this name will sound familiar. As you can imagine, the course taught by such a well known parasitologist was an amazing experience. I have a great passion for parasitology, and I'll see what kind of future I can put together. Thanks again for the great shows. I encourage you to continue, and add my voice to those that are calling for more. It is This WEEK in parasitism, you know! :) Vincent and Dick, Delighted to hear the latest TWIP on the malaria vaccine. You guys mentioned using impregnated bed nets to reduce malaria. The NY Times had an article at: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/09/27/health/27mosquito.html This article described using poisoned bait to reduce the mosquito populations by a bunch like 90%. Would love to hear your thoughts on this. Was also delighted to hear you guys are going to have more TWIP. Am still devoted to TWIP, M, V. Thanks much and 73 Hi, Vincent and Dickson. I'm a PhD student at the University of California Davis and a long-time listener of This Week in Parasitism and This Week in Virology. I have a great appreciation for the fact that you two are successful scientists who take time out of your busy schedules to share your love of parasites and viruses with the general public. In fact, I was so inspired by This Week in Parasitism that I have since begun podcasting about science topics myself! Thanks for the inspiration! I thought you two might be interested in an "experiment" in science crowdfunding called the SciFund Challenge. One exciting aspect of this experiment is that we're exploring a potential new source of funding (i.e., the general public) for small science projects at a time when everyone seems to be complaining about how difficult it is to get grant money. While this aspect of the experiment is certainly exciting, the most exciting part to me is the fact that crowdfunding forces scientists to engage with the public. Not only does the public get a chance to learn about cutting edge research, but they get the opportunity to have a voice in deciding the direction of future research through the money they donate. While I think you might be interested in learning about a program incentivizing scientist engagement with the public, my motives are not entirely altruistic. I have a SciFund project focusing on how trematode parasites manipulate the behavior of their hosts, and I'm wondering if you would be willing to help me get exposure to my RocketHub proposal for this project (URL is here: http://www.rockethub.com/projects/3737-support-zombie-research, or go to RocketHub.com and search "Support Zombie Research"). I study Euhaplorchis californiensis (EUHA), a trematode parasite infecting the brains of California killifish. EUHA manipulates the neurochemistry and behavior of their fish hosts, a fact which I find endlessly fascinating. These parasites have essentially had millions of years to figure out how the fish's brain works, and to figure out how to manipulate brain chemistry to achieve their own goals. I'm working on quantifying the extent to which the parasites modify the behavior of their host, and am trying to figure out the mechanism by which these parasites achieve their extraordinary behavioral manipulation. I believe parasites have a lot to tell us about how brain chemistry influences behavior, and I think of my research as an exercise in coercing EUHA to tell me what it has learned over millions of years about brains and behavior. If you would be willing to tweet about my project or mention it in any other way, I would be endlessly appreciative. I'm happy to answer any questions you might have about my study system, as it's pretty much my favorite thing in the world to discuss! Dear Drs. Racaniello and Despommier, I just discovered your wonderful Podcasts! I am a registered nurse who has an unusual background. I worked as a diener at a teaching hospital while working my way through college. My mom was an RN also when there were few vaccines. She graduated in 1935. She would often discuss what she had seen as a public health and Army nurse anesthestist in WWII. She had a library of medical textbooks that I enjoyed reading . I spent part of my career as a nurse epidemiologist (county public health practice) and as an STD clinician, where I got to work with all kinds of infectious diseases and conditions (viral, bacterial and of course parasitic.) I have been interested in infectious diseases and conditions since I was a young child when I got my first microscope. Also I have been lucky enough to live in semi tropical Florida for over 30 years. The University of S. Florida still has a great series of podcasts from their medical school's Division of Infectious Diseases. They also discuss tropical medicine and have a College of Public Health. My first in person experience with a parasite specimen which really "hooked" me on microbiology was that of a tapeworm which was in a huge (tall) container in the foyer of Abbott Labs in Chicago. I was with a group of High School students which had a NSF grant in collaboration with Northwestern University's College of Medicine. I have been fortunate to see a lot of interesting things because I also did some bio-medical illustrations. I am both an artist and a nurse. To make a long winded email shorter...Your podcasts are infectious...I believe there is no cure or treatment other than continuing as a listener to you discuss microbes in your most engaging fashion. Thank you for sharing your knowledge and experiences! Trudy in Naples, Florida Just discovered the podcast. Listening to 2 shows a day ...working my way up.....absolutely love it....love dr. House ..parasite rex....and monsters inside me:) While gathering information about parasites i often see these so called zappers little devices that kill parasites ..what are your thoughts on these.....and the history of using electric devices in killing parasites. Greetings from switzerland Dear Drs. Despommier and Racaniello, I am an auditor. To occupy my mind while I work I started scouring iTunes for science rich content. I saw your show "TWIP" and thought why not? I think the first TWIP I listened to was #33. I was immediately hooked. I went home and subscribed to TWIP, TWIM, and TWIV that night. Currently I am listening to all of the TWIPs in a row before I start the other shows. I love the education, the ick factor is pretty high but this show provides me with an EXCELLENT free education, and helps me confront fears that were boogey men in my mind by giving me real quantifiable behaviors and characteristics of many things I have had uninformed fears about ( i.e. Trichinella, Toxoplasmosis, and tapeworms). I am very saddened that I didn't know who Dr. Despommier was prior to November of this year. In the Spring of 2011 I was writing a business plan for my entrepreneurship class and I advocated that my group do our project on vertical farming. We were unable to find any resource that would provide us with information on how to successfully integrate a vertical farming business into an urban area such as Phoenix AZ, where our fictitious business had to be. We had thought about potentially buying a tall structure like an empty condo tower, or office building and converting it into a farm, or placing farms on roof tops (kind of like they do in Cuba). Sadly we couldn't find any cost to benefit analysis, yield per acre data, or potential profit margins with which to build our fictitious business plan. We ended up using another idea of mine, recycled building material sales. I remain sad that we were unable to write a plan for vertical farming. Thank you for providing me with such a wealth of free information. Thank you for presenting it in such a content rich way, without spoon feeding the listener. Please continue to do these shows. I am indifferent to frequency as long as I can continue to have access to your knowledge and experiences. Dear Dr. Racaniello and Dr. Despommier, I'm in the process of choosing a career (PhD or MD) I would love to follow in your footsteps and become a professor, researching parasites and leading the young minds to new discoveries! However, when talking with my parasitology teacher it seemed like he was discouraging me due to the lack funding and interest in the subject. I wanted to know your opinion, especially Dr. Despommier's. Do you think part of your success in your area of research came from the 'newness' of the subject or is there still an opening for hopeful parasitologists. Thanks for all the work you both put in to the TWI series, I am a huge fan. I am waiting anxiously for the next installment of TWIP. The more I listen to your fantastic podcasts, the more I love them. wO0t. I am the Naples, Fl nurse/artist who has written before. Because I did get the pleasure of tracking reportable diseases and conditions in Florida, I was struck to know that other states did not require reporting of giardiasis. Thought you might find the link to the list in my state interesting. I do have a question...if you answered it can you mention the podcast number, please? It is more of a TWIM question, but I would like both of your comments because of the urban gardening interest by Dr. D. When tomatoes were suspected of being the source of a widespread salmonella outbreak in the not too distant past, there was speculation that the organism was contained within the tomatoes' cells!!! I garden, was a biology art major before finishing my BSN. This made absolutely no sense considering the differences between animal and plant cell structure. Also, what does Dr. D. think of organic gardening? You also may find it interesting that Florida does allow land application of bio solids after processing in a wastewater treatment plant. Considering some of the encysted pathogens, I always felt this was unwise. Not every County allows it. All the best from your very loyal listener...life long learner with ear buds which are rapidly embedding as a result of your "infectious podcasts"... Dang, you are the best, guys. Listening to the podcast about crypto right now. Gave you 5 stars and wrote a "glowing review" (ala Mark Crislip) on iTunes. Dear Drs. Despommier and Racaniello, I've really enjoyed listening to your podcast and learning about all of the fascinating parasitic diseases that they don't teach us enough about in medical school. I'm a student at Boston University School of Medicine but currently taking a year off to do HIV research in Uganda. Among other things, I'm hoping to perform a retrospective study looking at the impact (if any) of soil-transmitted helminth infection on antiretroviral treatment outcomes in a cohort of HIV-infected individuals in rural Uganda. At any rate, my real question for you has to do with treatment of schistosomiasis. I happened to be swimming in Lake Victoria last weekend (self-preservation is not one of my strong points...) and am thinking it may not be a bad idea to take some PZQ. My question is: how long does one need to wait after potential exposure to schisto for PZQ to be effective? My favorite new textbook, Parasitic Diseases 4th Edition by Despommier et al (have you heard of it?) says that PZQ is effective against the adult organism. However, it sounds like it takes several days for schistosomulae to migrate from the infection site to the liver, only then at which time they develop into adults. Provided that schistosomulae are also susceptible to PZQ and the drug has good subcutaneous tissue penetration, it should be fine to prophylax even within the first days after exposure. However, if this is not the case it may be necessary to wait some period of time to ensure that any schistosomulae have had time to transform into adult worms before administering PZQ. Any thoughts on this? Finally, I just wanted to say thanks for taking the time to create and sustain TWIP. It's always a pleasure to listen in, and I'm actually finding the information you provide in the podcast (coupled with your wonderful textbook) to be quite clinically relevant here in Uganda. Thanks, and all the best, PS - here's an idea for a future TWIP episode: a review of clinically relevant (or otherwise interesting) interactions between parasitic infections and other infections, e.g. genital schisto increases susceptibility to HIV infection in women. I think one important and possibly under-emphasized point by Peter Hotez and others at the forefront of advocacy around NTDs is that it is valuable to target NTDs not only for the purpose of eliminating these infections themselves but also for mitigating any pathogenic synergy they might have with other more "sexy" diseases like HIV. Dear Vincent and Dickson, I recently read this paper discussing the phenomenon of self medication in animals. The authors speculate that this behavior was selected for, at least in part, due to the antiparasite properties of many of the plants, animals, or materials consumed by animals for reasons other than nutrition. I was wondering if Dickson had any more information on this process, and what his opinions are regarding the origin of self medication in regard to parasites. Thanks so much for all of your work in developing TWiV, TWiP, and TWiM. Your discussions have given me a real head start in my undergraduate biology classes, and I look forward to every episode. Novel Drug Wipes out Deadliest Malaria Parasite Through Starvation Good day (or night), Starting from October I've listened to about half of the TWIVs, all the TWIMs and the TWIPs. I find them to be very enjoyable, the semi-Socratic method of teaching is quite refreshing. However, two particular subjects have been underplayed. First Toxoplasma. The papers by Fekadu, Lindova and McAllister are great primers for the studies regarding the behavioural effects of T. gondii. The Gaskell one is by far the most interesting though. So, hands down, the leading theory for schizophrenia's etiology is an inappropriate level of L-dopa, the precursor for such molecules as dopamine and epinephrine. Depending on the population studied, seroprevalence of T. gondii induced IgGs among patients with schizophrenia is as high as 97.7%. Though there is some ambiguity as certain studies report a 42% seroprevalence amongst schizophrenics, compared to 11% in controls. Regardless of the exact rate, it has a statistically significant presence in schizophrenics and people with other mental health problems. Just a correlation though. A tongue in cheek refute of correlative studies is the stork theory (will be paraphrased/butchered). The idea is that from 1970-1985 there was a surge in the German birth rate. At the same time, there was a surge in the stork population of Germany. Their coincidence was statistically significant. Of course, we know this is bupkis. Storks and babies aren't actually related. However, if we found that there was a drop in condom sales, we could have an aha moment, due primarily to the fact that we can name the mechanism for why that correlation actually matters. Back to Gaskell, and the aha mechanism for toxo and schizophrenia. Their group shows that T. gondii has two fully functional enzymes specific for producing L-dopa, and they show that these genes are transcribed specifically when the parasite infects neural tissues, and that the enzymes produced do make L-dopa. We really can't prove that toxo causes schizophrenia with Koch's postulate since putting a brain parasite into a volunteer isn't all that nice. However, I'm flummoxed to think of anything else that is needed to point at T. gondii as the causative agent for some types of schizophrenia. Global warming wilts malaria

Chupacabra: Texas Couple Believes They’ve Captured Mythical Creature Jackie Stock, a Texas resident, says that she has found and captured the mythical creature called the chupacabra. According to reports, the chupacabra is a creature that attacks livestock, particularly goats, and drinks their blood. Stock says that the creature was caught by her husband on Sunday night. “He saw this strange animal up here eating corn,” she said. Her husband also told her that the creature resembled a baby chupacabra. The animal that was caught indeed resembles the description of a chupacabra. It has large claws, plenty of teeth, and a hairless back. The creature also has a fierce growl. Stock resides in a small town in Dewitt County called Ratcliffe. Residents are convinced that the creature is undeniably a chupacabra. Arlen Parma, Stock’s neighbor, said, “I ain’t never seen anything that look like that right there.” The chupacabra is considered a cryptid – a creature that is said to exist, but its existence is not backed by any scientific evidence. Some creatures under the category include Bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster, and the Yeti. The chupacabra is said to have first been seen in Puerto Rico. There are different physical descriptions recorded, some even say it resembles a bear with spines sticking out of its back. This is not the first time that someone has claimed to have captured a chupacabra. According to biologist Brent Ortego, the creature that Stock caught may be a small canine, such as a fox, dog, or a coyote. As for its appearance, it seems to resemble a chupacabra, as it may be suffering from a condition known as mange, a skin disease caused by mites. This disease causes hair to fall off. Ortego also believes that the chupacabra does not exist. Stock said that the creature will be staying in their home until someone has confirmed what it is. For the time being, they are feeding him corn and cat food. The Myth Of The Chupacabra Image via YouTube

It has been readily agreed by most fans that Buffy the Vampire Slayer needed to end in season 7 when it did, but it has still been greatly missed. The comic books from Dark Horse have done a little to fill this empty void, but thankfully Seanan McGuire, bestselling author of the October Daye books, has a new series with a new character that feels much like a new incarnation of Buffy, except less with the superpowers and more with the weapons and kickass fighting skills. In this world every ghost, ghoul and monster you’ve read about since you were a kid exists; a number of them look almost human, or can make themselves look presentable in everyday society. They’ve been around for a long time, and sometimes they overstep their boundaries and enjoy the taste of some human flesh. There are two groups in the world that exist to control and police these cryptids: one is the Covenant, a religious group that has been around for centuries and sees the cryptids as a scorn upon the earth to be killed and got rid of, whether they be succubus, boogie man, or dragon (but dragons haven’t been around for hundreds of years); the other is the Price family. The Price family have also been around for quite a while, and they’re the good guys who separated from the Covenant a long time ago because they had this crazy notion that some cryptids deserve not to be hunted to extinction. There was also some inter-marrying going on. Enter our heroine, Verity Price who enjoys spending her free time running and base jumping along the rooftops of New York, checking on the local cryptids and making sure they’re staying in line. She earns some okay money and decent tips at Fish and Chicks, a local strip club, where she waitresses only, even though her boss — a bogey man — would love to have her do more; hence Verity’s choice uniform on the cover of the book. Verity also happens to be a talented ballroom dancer, which keeps her in shape and her martial arts skills honed, making her made up dancing persona quite the celebrity in the ballroom dancing circles. Things begin to get pretty crazy when a young, muscular and surprisingly attractive Covenant member shows up to start purging the city and Verity keeps running into him and seriously falling for him. Then cryptids start disappearing and it seems like there might be something really big under Manhattan either killing them or making them get the hell out of town; plus there’s some strange snake cult looking for virgins. And then she has this large nest of Aeslin mice living with her, celebrating all manner of weird mice-sized festivals. Discount Armageddon at first feels a lot like a combination of the October Daye series and McGuire’s other Newsflesh series under her Mira Grant pseudonym, as the first person perspective makes it seem like the reader is enjoying one of those books just with different details. But by halfway through the book, Verity Price establishes herself as a strong independent protagonist, part of a tough and interesting family, and the world is complex and fully established, with a cornucopia of cryptid species that each have their own established and researched pedigree. By the end of the first book in the Cryptid series, readers will be thoroughly hooked and checking out the cryptid glossary at the end of the book and wanting more cryptid crunchy goodness. Originally written on December 30, 2011 ©Alex C. Telander. To purchase a copy of Discount Armageddon from Amazon, and help support BookBanter, click HERE. You might also like . . .

Temporal range: 38–0 Ma Late Eocene – Recent |Captive Brown bear.| G. Fischer de Waldheim, 1817 Bears are mammals of the family Ursidae. Bears are classified as caniforms, or doglike carnivorans, with the pinnipeds being their closest living relatives. Although only eight species of bears are extant, they are widespread, appearing in a wide variety of habitats throughout the Northern Hemisphere and partially in the Southern Hemisphere. Bears are found on the continents of North America, South America, Europe, and Asia. Common characteristics of modern bears include large bodies with stocky legs, long snouts, shaggy hair, plantigrade paws with five nonretractile claws, and short tails. While the polar bear is mostly carnivorous, and the giant panda feeds almost entirely on bamboo, the remaining six species are omnivorous with varied diets. With the exception of courting individuals and mothers with their young, bears are typically solitary animals. They are generally diurnal, but may be active during the night (nocturnal) or twilight (crepuscular), particularly around humans. Bears possess an excellent sense of smell and, despite their heavy build and awkward gait, are adept runners, climbers, and swimmers. In autumn, some bear species forage large amounts of fermented fruits, which affects their behaviour. Bears use shelters, such as caves and burrows, as their dens; most species occupy their dens during the winter for a long period (up to 100 days) of sleep similar to hibernation. Bears have been hunted since prehistoric times for their meat and fur. With their tremendous physical presence and charisma, they play a prominent role in the Arts, mythology, and other cultural aspects of various human societies. In modern times, the bears' existence has been pressured through the encroachment on their habitats and the illegal trade of bears and bear parts, including the Asian bile bear market. The IUCN lists six bear species as vulnerable or endangered, and even least concern species, such as the brown bear, are at risk of extirpation in certain countries. The poaching and international trade of these most threatened populations are prohibited, but still ongoing. - 1 Etymology - 2 Evolutionary history - 3 Classification - 4 Biology - 5 Relationship with humans - 6 Culture - 7 Organizations regarding bears - 8 See also - 9 References - 10 Further reading - 11 External links The English word "bear" comes from Old English bera and belongs to a family of names for the bear in Germanic languages that originate from an adjective meaning "brown". In Scandinavia, the word for bear is björn (or bjørn), and is a relatively common given name for males. The use of this name is ancient and has been found mentioned in several runestone inscriptions. The reconstructed Proto-Indo-European name of the bear is *h₂ŕ̥tḱos, whence Sanskrit r̥kṣa, Avestan arša, Greek ἄρκτος (arktos), Latin ursus, Welsh arth (whence perhaps "Arthur"), Albanian ari, Armenian արջ (arj). Also compared is Hittite ḫartagga-, the name of a monster or predator. In the binomial name of the brown bear, Ursus arctos, Linnaeus simply combined the Latin and Greek names. The Proto-Indo-European (PIE) word for bear, *h₂ŕ̥tḱos seems to have been subject to taboo deformation or replacement in some languages (as was the word for wolf, wlkwos), resulting in the use of numerous unrelated words with meanings like "brown one" (English bruin) and "honey-eater" (Slavic medved). Thus, some Indo-European language groups do not share the same PIE root. The family Ursidae is one of nine families in the suborder Caniformia, or "doglike" carnivores, within the order Carnivora. Bears' closest living relatives are the pinnipeds, canids, and musteloids. - presence of an alisphenoid canal - paroccipital processes that are large and not fused to the auditory bullae - auditory bullae are not enlarged - lacrimal bone is vestigial - cheek teeth are bunodont and hence indicative of a broad, hypocarnivorous (not strictly meat-eating) diet (although hypercarnivorous (strictly meat-eating) taxa are known from the fossil record) - carnassials are flattened Additionally, members of this family possess posteriorly oriented M2 postprotocrista molars, elongated m2 molars, and a reduction of the premolars. Modern bears comprise eight species in three subfamilies: Ailuropodinae (monotypic with the giant panda), Tremarctinae (monotypic with the spectacled bear), and Ursinae (containing six species divided into one to three genera, depending on the authority). The earliest members of Ursidae belong to the extinct subfamily Amphicynodontinae, including Parictis (late Eocene to early middle Miocene, 38–18 Mya) and the slightly younger Allocyon (early Oligocene, 34–30 Mya), both from North America. These animals looked very different from today's bears, being small and raccoon-like in overall appearance, and diets perhaps more similar to that of a badger. Parictis does not appear in Eurasia and Africa until the Miocene. It is unclear whether late-Eocene ursids were also present in Eurasia, although faunal exchange across the Bering land bridge may have been possible during a major sea level low stand as early as the late Eocene (about 37 Mya) and continuing into the early Oligocene. European genera morphologically are very similar to Allocyon, and also the much younger American Kolponomos (about 18 Mya), are known from the Oligocene, including Amphicticeps and Amphicynodon. The raccoon-sized, dog-like Cephalogale is the oldest-known member of the subfamily Hemicyoninae, which first appeared during the middle Oligocene in Eurasia about 30 Mya ago. The subfamily also includes the younger genera Phoberocyon (20–15 Mya), and Plithocyon (15–7 Mya). A Cephalogale-like species gave rise to the genus Ursavus during the early Oligocene (30–28 Mya); this genus proliferated into many species in Asia and is ancestral to all living bears. Species of Ursavus subsequently entered North America, together with Amphicynodon and Cephalogale, during the early Miocene (21–18 Mya). Members of the living lineages of bears diverged from Ursavus between 15 and 20 Mya ago, likely via the species Ursavus elmensis. Based on genetic and morphological data, the Ailuropodinae (pandas) were the first to diverge from other living bears about 19 Mya ago, although no fossils of this group have been found before about 5 Mya. The New World short-faced bears (Tremarctinae) differentiated from Ursinae following a dispersal event into North America during the mid Miocene (about 13 Mya). They invaded South America (~1 Ma) following formation of the Isthmus of Panama. Their earliest fossil representative is Plionarctos in North America (~ 10–2 Ma). This genus is probably the direct ancestor to the North American short-faced bears (genus Arctodus), the South American short-faced bears (Arctotherium), and the spectacled bears, Tremarctos, represented by both an extinct North American species (T. floridanus), and the lone surviving representative of the Tremarctinae, the South American spectacled bear (T. ornatus). The subfamily Ursinae experienced a dramatic proliferation of taxa about 5.3–4.5 Mya ago, coincident with major environmental changes; with the first members of the genus Ursus also appearing around this time. The sloth bear is a modern survivor of one of the earliest lineages to diverge during this radiation event (5.3 Mya); it took on its peculiar morphology, related to its diet of termites and ants, no later than by the early Pleistocene. By 3–4 Mya ago, the species Ursus minimus appears in the fossil record of Europe; apart from its size, it was nearly identical to today's Asiatic black bear. It is likely ancestral to all bears within Ursinae, perhaps aside from the sloth bear. Two lineages evolved from U. minimus: the black bears (including the sun bear, the Asiatic black bear, and the American black bear); and the brown bears (which includes the polar bear). Modern brown bears evolved from U. minimus via Ursus etruscus, which itself is ancestral to both the extinct Pleistocene cave bear and today's brown and polar bears. Species of Ursinae have migrated repeatedly into North America from Eurasia as early as 4 Mya during the early Pliocene. The fossil record of bears is exceptionally good. Direct ancestor-descendent relationships between individual species are often fairly well established, with sufficient intermediate forms known to make the precise cut-off between an ancestral and its daughter species subjective. Taxonomic revisions of living bear species The giant panda's taxonomy (subfamily Ailuropodinae) has long been debated. Its original classification by Armand David in 1869 was within the bear genus Ursus, but, in 1870, it was reclassified by Alphonse Milne-Edwards to the raccoon family. In recent studies, the majority of DNA analyses suggest that the giant panda has a much closer relationship to other bears and should be considered a member of the family Ursidae. Estimates of divergence dates place the giant panda as the most ancient offshoot among living taxa within Ursidae, having split from other bears as recently as 11.6 Mya to as distantly as 22.1 Mya. The red panda was included within Ursidae in the past. However, more recent research does not support such a conclusion, and instead places it in its own family Ailuridae, in superfamily Musteloidea along with Mustelidae, Procyonidae, and Mephitidae. Multiple similarities between the two pandas, including the presence of false thumbs, are thus thought to represent an example of convergent evolution for feeding primarily on bamboo. Unlike their neighbors elsewhere, the brown bears of Alaska's ABC Islands evidently are more closely related to polar bears than to other brown bears in the world. Researchers Gerald Shields and Sandra Talbot of the University of Alaska Fairbanks Institute of Arctic Biology studied the DNA of several samples of the species and found that their DNA is different from that of other brown bears. The discovery has shown that, while all other brown bears share a brown bear as their closest relative, those of Alaska's ABC Islands differ and share their closest relation with the polar bear. Also, the very rare Tibetan blue bear is a type of brown bear. This animal has never been photographed. (Extant species in bold, extinct taxa marked with †.) - Family Ursidae - Subfamily Ailuropodinae - † Ailurarctos - † Ailurarctos lufengensis - † Ailurarctos yuanmouenensis - Ailuropoda (pandas) - † Ailurarctos - Subfamily Ailuropodinae - Subfamily Tremarctinae - † Plionarctos - † Plionarctos edensis - † Plionarctos harroldorum - Tremarctos (spectacled bears) - † Arctodus - † Arctodus simus - giant short-faced bear - † Arctodus pristinus - † Arctotherium - † Arctotherium angustidens - † Arctotherium bonariense - † Arctotherium brasilense - † Arctotherium latidens - † Arctotherium tarijense - † Arctotherium vetustum - † Arctotherium wingei - † Plionarctos - Subfamily Tremarctinae - Subfamily Ursinae - † Ursavus - † Ursavus brevirhinus - † Ursavus depereti - † Ursavus elmensis - † Ursavus pawniensis - † Ursavus primaevus - † Ursavus tedfordi - † Indarctos - † Indarctos anthraciti - † Indarctos arctoides - † Indarctos atticus - † Indarctos nevadensis - † Indarctos oregonensis - † Indarctos salmontanus - † Indarctos vireti - † Indarctos zdanskyi - † Agriotherium - † Agriotherium inexpetans - † Agriotherium schneideri - † Agriotherium sivalensis - † Ursus rossicus - † Ursus sackdillingensis - † Ursus minimus - Ursus thibetanus - Asian black bear - † Ursus abstrusus - Ursus americanus - American black bear - Ursus americanus altifrontalis, Olympic black bear - Ursus americanus amblyceps, New Mexico black bear - Ursus americanus americanus, Eastern black bear - Ursus americanus californiensis, California black bear - Ursus americanus carlottae, Haida Gwaii black bear or Queen Charlotte black bear - Ursus americanus cinnamomum, cinnamon bear - Ursus americanus emmonsii, glacier bear - Ursus americanus eremicus, Mexican black bear - Ursus americanus floridanus, Florida black bear - Ursus americanus hamiltoni, Newfoundland black bear - Ursus americanus kermodei, Kermode bear or spirit bear - Ursus americanus luteolus, Louisiana black bear - Ursus americanus machetes, West Mexico black bear - Ursus americanus perniger, Kenai black bear - Ursus americanus pugnax, Dall black bear - Ursus americanus vancouveri, Vancouver Island black bear - † Ursus etruscus - Ursus arctos - brown bear - Ursus arctos arctos; Eurasian brown bear - Ursus arctos alascensis - Ursus arctos beringianus; Kamchatka brown bear or Far Eastern brown bear - † Ursus arctos californicus; California golden bear - † Ursus arctos crowtheri; Atlas bear - † Ursus arctos dalli - Ursus arctos gobiensis; Gobi bear (very rare) - Ursus arctos horribilis; grizzly bear, North American brown bear, or silvertip bear - Ursus arctos isabellinus; Himalayan brown bear or Himalayan red bear - Ursus arctos lasiotus; Ussuri brown bear or black grizzly - Ursus arctos middendorffi; Kodiak bear - † Ursus arctos nelsoni; Mexican grizzly bear - Ursus arctos piscator; Bergman's bear (extinct?) - Ursus arctos pruinosus; Tibetan blue bear, Tibetan bear, or Himalayan blue bear - Ursus arctos sitkensis - Ursus arctos syriacus; Syrian (brown) bear - Ursus maritimus - polar bear - † Ursus savini - † Ursus deningeri - † Ursus spelaeus - cave bear - † Ursus inopinatus, MacFarlane's bear (cryptid; possibly a hybrid) - † Ursavus - † Kolponomos - † Kolponomos clallamensis - † Kolponomos newportensis - Subfamily Ursinae The genera Melursus and Helarctos are sometimes also included in Ursus. The Asiatic black bear and the polar bear used to be placed in their own genera, Selenarctos and Thalarctos; these names have since been reduced in rank to subgeneric rank. A number of hybrids have been bred between American black, brown, and polar bears. Bears are generally bulky and robust animals with relatively short legs. They are sexually dimorphic with regard to size, with the males being larger. Larger species tend to show increased levels of sexual dimorphism in comparison to smaller species, and where a species varies in size across its distribution, individuals from larger-sized areas tend also to vary more. Bears are the most massive terrestrial members of the order Carnivora. Some exceptional polar bears and Kodiak bears (a brown bear subspecies) have been weighed at over 750 kg (1,650 lb). As to which species is the largest depends on whether the assessment is based on which species has the largest individuals (brown bears) or on the largest average size (polar bears), as some races of brown bears are much smaller than polar bears. Adult male Kodiak bears average 480 to 533 kg (1,058 to 1,175 lb) compared to an average of 386 to 408 kg (851 to 899 lb) in adult male polar bears, per the Guinness Book of World Records. The smallest bears are the sun bears of Asia, which weigh an average of 65 kg (143 lb) for the males and 45 kg (99 lb) for the females, though the smallest mature females can weigh only 20 kg (44 lb). All "medium"-sized bear species (which include the other five extant species) are around the same average weight, with males averaging around 100 to 120 kg (220 to 260 lb) and females averaging around 60 to 85 kg (132 to 187 lb), although it is not uncommon for male American black bears to considerably exceed "average" weights. Head-and-body length can range from 120 cm (47 in) in sun bears to 300 cm (120 in) in large polar and brown bears and shoulder height can range from 60 cm (24 in) to over 160 cm (63 in) in the same species, respectively. The tails of bears are often considered a vestigial feature and can range from 3 to 22 cm (1.2 to 8.7 in). Unlike most other land carnivorans, bears are plantigrade. They distribute their weight toward the hind feet, which makes them look lumbering when they walk. They are still quite fast, with the brown bear reaching 48 km/h (30 mph), although they are still slower than felines and canines. Bears can stand on their hind feet and sit up straight with remarkable balance. Bears' nonretractable claws are used for digging, climbing, tearing, and catching prey. Their ears are rounded. Bears have an excellent sense of smell, better than the dogs (Canidae), or possibly any other mammal. This sense of smell is used for signalling between bears (either to warn off rivals or detect mates) and for finding food. Smell is the principal sense used by bears to find most of their food. Unlike most other members of the Carnivora, bears have relatively undeveloped carnassial teeth, and their teeth are adapted for a diet that includes a significant amount of vegetable matter. The canine teeth are large, and the molar teeth flat and crushing. Considerable variation occurs in dental formula even within a given species. This may indicate bears are still in the process of evolving from carnivorous to predominantly herbivorous diets. Polar bears appear to have secondarily re-evolved fully functional carnassials, as their diets have switched back towards carnivory. The dental formula for living bears is: 3.1.2-4.2 Distribution and habitat Bears are primarily found in the Northern Hemisphere, and with one exception, only in Asia, North America and Europe. The single exception is the spectacled bear (Tremarctos ornatus); native to South America it inhabits the Andean region. The Atlas bear, a subspecies of the brown bear, was the only bear native to Africa. It was distributed in North Africa from Morocco to Libya, but has been extinct since around the 1870s. The most widespread species is the brown bear, which occurs from Western Europe eastwards through Asia to the western areas of North America. The American black bear is restricted to North America, and the polar bear is restricted to the Arctic Sea. All the remaining species are Asian. With the exception of the polar bear, bears are mostly forest species. Some species, particularly the brown bear, may inhabit or seasonally use other areas, such as alpine scrub or tundra. While many people think bears are nocturnal, they are, in fact, generally diurnal, active for the most part during the day. The belief that they are nocturnal apparently comes from the habits of bears that live near humans, which engage in some nocturnal activities, such as raiding trash cans or crops while avoiding humans. The sloth bear of Asia is the most nocturnal of the bears, but this varies by individual, and females with cubs are often diurnal to avoid competition with males and nocturnal predators. Bears are overwhelmingly solitary and are considered to be the most asocial of all the Carnivora. Liaisons between breeding bears are brief, and the only times bears are encountered in small groups are mothers with young or occasional seasonal bounties of rich food (such as salmon runs). Bears produce a variety of vocalizations such as: - Moaning, produced mostly as mild warnings to potential threats or in fear, - Barking, produced during times of alarm, excitement or to give away the animal's position. - Huffing, made during courtship or between mother and cubs to warn of danger. - Growling, produced as strong warnings to potential threats or in anger. - Roaring, used much for the same reasons as growls and also to proclaim territory and for intimidation. - Humming, a loud monotonous buzzing sound, primarily employed by cubs. Diet and interspecific interactions Most bears have diets of more plant than animal matter and are completely opportunistic omnivores. Some bears will climb trees to obtain mast (edible vegatative or reproductive parts, such as acorns); smaller species that are more able to climb include a greater amount of this in their diets. Such masts can be very important to the diets of these species, and mast failures may result in long-range movements by bears looking for alternative food sources. One exception is the polar bear, which has adopted a diet mainly of marine mammals to survive in the Arctic. The other exception is the giant panda, which has adopted a diet mainly of bamboo. Stable isotope analysis of the extinct giant short-faced bear (Arctodus simus) shows it was also an exclusive meat-eater, probably a scavenger. The sloth bear, though not as specialized as the previous two species, has lost several front teeth usually seen in bears, and developed a long, suctioning tongue to feed on the ants, termites, and other burrowing insects they favour. At certain times of the year, these insects can make up 90% of their diets. All bears will feed on any food source that becomes available, the nature of which varies seasonally. A study of Asiatic black bears in Taiwan found they would consume large numbers of acorns when they were most common, and switch to ungulates at other times of the year. Regarding warm-blooded animals, bears will typically take small or young animals, as they are easier to catch. However, both species of black bears and the brown bear can sometimes take large prey, such as ungulates. Often, bears will feed on other large animals when they encounter a carcass, whether or not the carcass is claimed by, or is the kill of, another predator. This competition is the main source of interspecies conflict. Bears are able to defend a carcass against some comers. Mother bears also can usually defend their cubs against other predators. The tiger is the only predator known to regularly prey on adult bears, including fully grown adults of brown bears, sloth bears, Asiatic black bears and sun bears. When hunting bears, tigers will position themselves from the leeward side of a rock or fallen tree, waiting for the bear to pass by. When the bear passes, the tiger will spring from an overhead position and grab the bear from under the chin with one forepaw and the throat with the other. The immobilised bear is then killed with a bite to the spinal column. After killing a bear, the tiger will concentrate its feeding on the bear's fat deposits, such as the back, legs and groin. |This section requires expansion. (July 2014)| The age at which bears reach sexual maturity is highly variable, both between and within species. Sexual maturity is dependent on body condition, which is in turn dependent upon the food supply available to the growing individual. The females of smaller species may have young in as little as two years, whereas the larger species may not rear young until they are four or even nine years old. First breeding may be even later in males, where competition for mates may leave younger males without access to females. The bear's courtship period is very brief. Bears in northern climates reproduce seasonally, usually after a period of inactivity similar to hibernation, although tropical species breed all year round. Cubs are born toothless, blind, and bald. The cubs of brown bears, usually born in litters of one to three, will typically stay with the mother for two full seasons. They feed on their mother's milk through the duration of their relationship with their mother, although as the cubs continue to grow, nursing becomes less frequent and cubs learn to begin hunting with the mother. They will remain with the mother for about three years, until she enters the next cycle of estrus and drives the cubs off. Bears will reach sexual maturity in five to seven years. Male bears, especially polar and brown bears, will kill and sometimes devour cubs born to another father to induce a female to breed again. Female bears are often successful in driving off males in protection of their cubs, despite being rather smaller. Many bears of northern regions are assumed[by whom?] to hibernate in the winter, a belief supported by a number of scientific studies. While many bear species do go into a physiological state often colloquially called "hibernation" or "winter sleep", it is not true hibernation. In true hibernators, body temperatures drop to near ambient and heart rates slow drastically, but the animals periodically rouse themselves to urinate or defecate and to eat from stored food. The body temperature of bears, on the other hand, drops only a few degrees from normal, and the heart rate slows from a normal value of 55 to just 9 beats per minute. They normally do not wake during this "hibernation", so do not eat, drink, urinate, or defecate the entire period. Higher body heat and being easily roused may be adaptations, because females give birth to their cubs during this winter sleep. Relationship with humans Some species, such as the polar bear, American black bear, grizzly bear, sloth bear, and brown bear, are dangerous to humans, especially in areas where they have become used to people. All bears are physically powerful and are likely capable of fatally attacking a person, but they, for the most part, are shy, are easily frightened and will avoid humans. Injuries caused by bears are rare, but are often widely reported. The danger that bears pose is often vastly exaggerated, in part by the human imagination. However, when a mother feels that her cubs are threatened, she will behave ferociously. It is recommended to give all bears a wide berth because they are behaviorally unpredictable. Where bears raid crops or attack livestock, they may come into conflict with humans. These problems may be the work of only a few bears, but they create a climate of conflict, as farmers and ranchers may perceive all losses as due to bears and advocate the preventive removal of all bears. Mitigation methods may be used to reduce bear damage to crops, and reduce local antipathy towards bears. Laws have been passed in many areas of the world to protect bears from habitat destruction. Public perception of bears is often very positive, as people identify with bears due to their omnivorous diets, ability to stand on two legs, and symbolic importance, and support for bear protection is widespread, at least in more affluent societies. In more rural and poorer regions, attitudes may be more shaped by the dangers posed by bears and the economic costs they cause to farmers and ranchers. Some populated areas with bear populations have also outlawed the feeding of bears, including allowing them access to garbage or other food waste. Bears in captivity have been trained to dance, box, or ride bicycles; however, this use of the animals became controversial in the late 20th century. Bears were kept for baiting in Europe at least since the 16th century. Some cultures use bears for food and folk medicine. Their meat is dark and stringy, like a tough cut of beef. In Cantonese cuisine, bear paws are considered a delicacy. The peoples of China, Japan, and Korea use bears' body parts and secretions (notably their gallbladders and bile) as part of traditional Chinese medicine. More than 12,000 bile bears are thought to be kept on farms, for their bile, in China, Vietnam, and South Korea. Bear meat must be cooked thoroughly, as it can be infected with Trichinella spiralis, which can cause trichinosis. |This section needs additional citations for verification. (January 2014)| The female first name "Ursula", originally derived from a Christian saint's name and common in English- and German-speaking countries, means "little she-bear" (diminutive of Latin ursa). In Switzerland, the male first name "Urs" is especially popular, while the name of the canton and city of Bern is derived from Bär, German for bear. The Germanic name Bernard (including Bernhardt and other forms) means "bear-brave", "bear-hardy", or "bold bear". In Scandinavia, the male personal names Björn (Sweden, Iceland) and Bjørn (Norway, Denmark), meaning "bear", are relatively common. In Finland, the male personal name Otso is an old poetic name for bear, similar to Kontio. In East European Jewish communities, the name Ber (בער)—Yiddish cognate of "Bear"—has been attested as a common male first name, at least since the 18th century, and was, among others, the name of several prominent rabbis. The Yiddish Ber is still in use among Orthodox Jewish communities in Israel, the US, and other countries. With the transition from Yiddish to Hebrew under the influence of zionism, the Hebrew word for "bear", dov (דב), was taken up in contemporary Israel and is at present among the commonly used male first names in that country. Myth and legend There is evidence of prehistoric bear worship. Anthropologists such as Joseph Campbell have regarded this as a common feature in most of the fishing and hunting-tribes. The prehistoric Finns, along with most Siberian peoples, considered the bear as the spirit of one's forefathers. This is why the bear (karhu) was a greatly respected animal, with several euphemistic names (such as otso, mesikämmen and kontio). The bear is the national animal of Finland. This kind of attitude is reflected in the traditional Russian fairy tale "Morozko", whose arrogant protagonist Ivan tries to kill a mother bear and her cubs—and is punished and humbled by having his own head turned magically into a bear's head and being subsequently shunned by human society. "The Brown Bear of Norway" is a Scottish fairy tale telling the adventures of a girl who married a prince magically turned into a bear, and who managed to get him back into a human form by the force of her love and after many trials and difficulties. In the 1970s, this story was adapted into the East German fantasy film The Singing Ringing Tree and broadcast on British television. Evidence of bear worship has been found in early Chinese and Ainu cultures, as well (see Iomante). Korean people in their mythology identify the bear as their ancestor and symbolic animal. According to the Korean legend, a god imposed a difficult test on a she-bear; when she passed it, the god turned her into a woman and married her. Legends of saints taming bears are common in the Alpine zone. In the arms of the bishopric of Freising, the bear is the dangerous totem animal tamed by St. Corbinian and made to carry his civilised baggage over the mountains. A bear also features prominently in the legend of St. Romedius, who is also said to have tamed one of these animals and had the same bear carry him from his hermitage in the mountains to the city of Trento. This recurrent motif was used by the Church as a symbol of the victory of Christianity over paganism. In the Norse settlements of northern England during the 10th century, a type of "hogback" grave cover of a long narrow block of stone, with a shaped apex like the roof beam of a long house, is carved with a muzzled, thus Christianised, bear clasping each gable end. Though the best collection of these is in the church at Brompton, North Yorkshire, their distribution ranges across northern England and southern Scotland, with a scattered few in the north Midlands and single survivals in Wales, Cornwall, and Ireland; a late group is found in the Orkney Islands. "En uheldig bjørnejakt" (An Unfortunate Bear Hunt) by Theodor Kittelsen. Onikuma from Ehon Hyaku Monogatari Coat of Arms of the Abbey of Saint Gall "The Three Bears", Arthur Rackham's illustration to English Fairy Tales, by In the United States, the black bear is the state animal of Louisiana, New Mexico, and West Virginia; the grizzly bear is the state animal of both Montana and California. Bears also appear in the state seals of California and Missouri. Also, "bear", "bruin", or specific types of bears are popular nicknames or mascots, for example, for sports teams (Bayern Munich, Chicago Bears, California Golden Bears, UCLA Bruins, Boston Bruins); and a bear cub called Misha was mascot of the 1980 Summer Olympics in Moscow, Soviet Union. Smokey Bear has become a part of American culture since his introduction in 1944. Known to almost all Americans, he and his message, "Only you can prevent forest fires" (updated in 2001 to "Only you can prevent wildfires"), have been a symbol of preserving woodlands. Smokey wears a hat similar to one worn by U.S. Forest Service rangers; state police officers in some states wear a similar style, giving rise to the CB slang "bear" or "Smokey" for the highway patrol. Figures of speech The physical attributes and behaviours of bears are commonly used in figures of speech in English. - In the stock market, a bear market is a period of declining prices. Pessimistic forecasting or negative activity is said to be bearish (due to the stereotypical posture of bears looking downwards), and one who expresses bearish sentiment is a bear. Its opposite is a bull market, and bullish sentiment from bulls. - In gay slang, the term "bear" refers to male individuals who possess physical attributes much like a bear, such as a heavy build, abundant body hair, and commonly facial hair. - A bear hug is typically a tight hug that involves wrapping one's arms around another person, often leaving that person's arms immobile. - Bear tracking – in the old Western states of the U.S. and, to this day, in the former Dakota Territory, the expression "you ain't just a bear trackin'" is used to mean "you ain't lying" or "that's for sure". This expression evolved as an outgrowth of the experience pioneer hunters and mountainmen had when tracking bear. Bears often lay down false tracks and are notorious for doubling back on anything tracking them. If you are not following bear tracks, you are not following false trails or leads in your thoughts, words or deeds. - In Korean culture, a person is referred to as being "like a bear" when they are stubborn or not sensitive to what is happening around their surroundings. Used as a phrase to call a person "stubborn bear". - The Bible compares King David's "bitter warriors", who fight with such fury that they could overcome many times their number of opponents, with "a bear robbed of her whelps in the field" (2 Samuel 17:8 s:Bible (King James)/2 Samuel#Chapter 17). The phrase "a bereaved bear" (דב שכול), derived from this Biblical source, is still used in the literary Hebrew of contemporary Israel. Around the world, many children have stuffed toys in the form of bears. 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Find more about at Wikipedia's sister projects |Definitions from Wiktionary| |Media from Commons| |News stories from Wikinews| |Quotations from Wikiquote| |Source texts from Wikisource| |Textbooks from Wikibooks| |Learning resources from Wikiversity| |Taxonomy of Ursidae from Wikispecies| - The Bears Project – Information, reports and images of European brown bears and other living species - Western Wildlife Outreach – Information on the history, biology, and conservation of North American Grizzly Bears and Black Bears - The Bear Book and Curriculum Guide – a compilation of stories about all eight species of bears worldwide, including STEM lessons rooted in bear research, ecology, and conservation

Tentacles by Roland Smith Hardcover: 336 pages Publisher: Scholastic Press (Sep 2009) Product Dimensions: 21.1 x 14.7 x 3 cm I have spent Sunday afternoon in bed and rather than surrendering to the arms of Morpheus, I have spent the time reading this smashing book. It is the sequel to a book called Cryptid Hunters and therein lies a tale. About six years ago I started an e-mail friendship with a girl from Indiana. She is called Elizabeth Clem, and she has been the CFZ Indiana rep. ever since. When I went to Illinois in 2004 we met up, and she was just as much fun in person as she had been by e-mail, and our correspondence continues intermittently to this day. When Corinna and I got married two and a bit years ago, Elizabeth sent us some books as wedding presents, including the afore-mentioned Cryptid Hunter. I read it in a couple of evenings whilst recovering from our near-fatal carcrash back in September 2007. I was captivated. To give you a brief resume of the contents, here is a surprisingly inadequate synopsis from the author's website: After their parents are lost in an accident, thirteen-year old twins Grace and Marty are whisked away to live with their Uncle Wolfe - an uncle that they didn't even know they had! The intimidating Uncle Wolfe is an anthropologist who has dedicated his life to finding cryptids, mysterious creatures believed to be long extinct. That is a bit like describing Anna Karenina as being about a couple of Russian chicks and some horse racing, but it will have to do because I want you all to go out and buy both books rather than just relying on my say-so, so there will be a dearth of spoilers in this review. I enjoyed the first book mightily, and empathised to a certain extent with the hero; a large, bearded, semi-disabled bloke who liked animals more than people. So I wrote to the author who to my embarrassment, turned out to have been one of our members all along. I am not in the habit of writing fan mail, and since the age of twenty-five I think I have only done it four times: to Wreckless Eric (who ignored me), Mr Biffo (who became a personal friend), Yoko Ono, (just after I wrote my first book 21 years back) who sent back a Christmas card, and Roland Smith, who to my delight wrote back saying: I actually thought about you when I was developing Wolfe and Marty... There is a bit of you in both of them. This made my day, and I sat back for the next two years or so waiting for the sequel. Well, it's arrived, and it is even better than the first. The first book was set at Lake Tele in The Republic of the Congo (for those of you who, like me, learned their geographgy from stamp collecting, this was the one that used to be the French Congo, rather than the other one that was originally Belgian, and then Zaire) and you cryptotypes who read this blog will not be at all surprised to learn that it was about Mokele Mbembe. It had a satisfyingly villainous villain, (Dr Noah Blackwood) but one who turned out to be a blood relation of one of the protagonists, which introduces a level of moral ambiguity that makes the story interesting on a level above the well crafted derring-do of the plot. The second is set in the oceans off New Zealand and concerns an attempt (succesful as it turns out) to capture a giant squid. But "You rotter!" I hear you all shout. You promised that there would be no spoilers. Well, I lied. But only because the fact that the hunt is succesful becomes almost insignificant in the light of the other twists and turns that the plot takes. For some reason, I was reminded of the late great Douglas Adams's two books about Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency whilst reading this, because both authors seem to have a childlike delight in the wonders of new technology, and just like in the Dirk G books, Roland Smith keeps the new technological advances heralded in his prose completely believable, so that they are not even really within the realm of science fiction, although beyond the grip of known technology at the end of the first decade of the 21st Century. The writing is tauter, darker, and - in places - nastier, than in the first book. Indeed, there is an undercurrent of elegant brutality, which I find most engaging. I also like the way that the back story of the two main villains is beginning to unfold, underlining the thing that my dear wife says to me on the occasions that I get arsy about someone or someones, that there are two sides to every story. Even my fictional alter ego appears to have got his money by doing a covert job for the American Government, at such a level that the anarchist in me (which is most of me, remember) tells me that it could not possibly have been something of which I would have approved. I can't wait for the sequel, because unlike the first book, which could have been a stand-alone novel, this one leaves a cliffhanger, which means that another sequel is damn well unavoidable. But don't worry: if you want to read this one without having read the first, it works equally well as a stand-alone novel. But I make a guarantee - anyone who reads this book (whether or not they have read the first) will be sitting on the edge of their chair waiting for the next in the series. Well done Roland (can it be China next, although I suspect it will be South America first)

On Sunday, I walked into a Slab City, CA camp as the new guy in town for an introduction to the informal Mayor. Slab City is a popular winter haven for nomadic misfits set on the concrete slabs of General George Patton's training center for the WWII African invasion. In the early 1940s, Patton flew over where I met the Mayor and declared, "This is Hell! My boys are going to train here for the African campaign." Hence, the Chocolate Mt. Bombing Range, second largest in the world, sits spitting distance from where the Mayor, bearded and strumming a guitar, chatted. Helicopters fired machine guns at 300 rounds a minute, and 10000-pound bombs rocked the ground beneath us. The Mayor suddenly eyed me carefully, and shouted, "Steve Keeley! I've been searching for you for decades!" He recounted how his father, a genius three-time loser, once loaned me his VW van while the dad installed a cruise control in my Leach van. The VW brakes failed at a MI RR crossing, and scooped up on the cowcatcher of a moving freight train! The van folded in half, and I sailed down the track clutching the steering wheel to keep from falling out the window under the locomotive 3' cookie-cutter wheels…another near death. The Mayor grabbed my hand and shook it, and now I'm a made guy in Hell. I'm a strong believer in the Baby Bull theory where one adds a little at a time to become big and strong. A backpack filled with a pebble more a day makes an undefeatable hiker. Few think to apply the Baby Bull to their minds. If you wish your child to become prodigiously wise before your eyes, feed his mind daily like a baby bull throughout his childhood. The two books I recommend reading a passage at each supper sitting are Ayn Rand's Lexicon, and Louis L'Amour's Trail of Memories. Each contains hundreds of short excerpts from their works that instruct as aphorisms. The term Baby Bull derives from a theoretical baby who is introduced to a calf, and lifts it daily. As the calf grows, so does the child. September 30, 2015 | Leave a Comment There is no such thing as a bear market. Nor is a 10% decline more likely to be followed by declines than rises. The limited number of such moves in past makes it completely non-predictive even if there were some conditional moves following it that were different from the first. However, the moves at the close yesterday before the 23 pt rise today have the semblances of death throes. if we have any experts on such besides the hobo vet, it would be good to hear their insights. Bo Keely writes: The pressed dinosaur image in the death throes article you linked to has a more probable explanation. I disagree with the paleontologists about the cause of death being agonizing and with the vet who diagnoses the cause as opisthotonus. It makes more sense that nearly every dinosaur skeleton, whatever the cause of death, is slowly weighted by accumulating layers of dirt, which press it into that position. 1. The common definition of a bear market is a 20% decline from its most recent high price. The common definition of the Loch Ness Monster is a cryptid that reputedly inhabits Loch Ness, a lake in the Scottish Highlands. Some will say that neither exist. I have the photos of both. 2. The necessary condition for a 20% decline is a 10% decline. Hence the probability of a 20% is infinitely higher after a 10% decline than before a 10% decline. Based on what I've read, the pundits are obsessing whether this is "2011 all over again" (whatever that means). I am trading with the view that the answer is more likely "no" than "yes". Whatever that means. The movie Everest is riveting with displays of market risk. Without spoiling the summit, the history of Everest passes from 1953, when Edmund Hillary became the first up, to the present as four groups daily attempt the top. Everest is the archetype on thousands of similar, though smaller, expeditions that set out daily around the world to reach natural wonders. I've been on a hundred of these: to waterfalls, peaks, wildlife fields, and elephant boneyards. Everywhere capitalism has invaded the guide business. In the first hour of the movie it's difficult to hold still in the seat and not crawl into the plot to boost someone up a ladder, across a crevice, or hold the breath as oxygen dwindles near the summit. The competing agencies recruit, outbid, and sabotage each other to get clients up there first. And then there's the celebration of cashing in at the top, and saying, I did it. Everest has brought market risk to the silver screen. So you've decided to go vagabonding. What you're doing is courageous, logical, and not that unusual these days. The bottom line is you've decided to jump the fence of your backyard to explore what's beyond. I did this metaphorically and physically as an Idaho spud, and haven't turned an eye back. For you, good things are ahead. In the 1990s it was just becoming popular for citizens to step outside their country or second nation borders to live. We travelers called their areas 'pockets of ex-pats' and they were small but established in a town or site in nearly every third & second world country. Now, however, the movement is grander, with hundreds of these pockets around the world, and up to tens of thousands in each. Some I've visited or heard about first hand in the past few years are Saigon, large cities of India, Seoul, Bangkok, a number of Chinese cities, and many more. The nuts and bolts of finding and selecting one is simple. Get a Lonely Planet guidebook (at any Barnes & Noble) for the country or region you wish to penetrate. Use the guide in plotting a rough itinerary & picking a places to stay–immediately you'll be hooked into the travelers' grapevine. This is because almost every travelers use Lonely Planet, thus end up using the same facilities. You'll be sitting in a hotel, hostel, cafe or bar with dozens of other travelers and tourists from a dozen countries speaking four languages (English dominates) and you simply listen or ask what you want to know– where should i go for this or that. Nearly every traveler I meet these days is a 'digital nomad', except me with my muddy boots. If you are targeting India, Bangkok or Buenos Aires, I can provide contacts. Your exploratory trip should connect the dots of possibilities, staying only a couple days at each, and allowing for side trips to nearby pockets of ex-pats doing the same thing you want to do. It's a scouting trip for overview. In one month, with diligence, you can have composed, and visited, twenty strong potential sites. The next step is to pick the top three, and live at each for one month to get the feet wet. Then jump in. if you decide not to jump in, you will have had a wonderful time. Pitt T. Maner III writes: In Central America, Nicaragua, is an interesting and beautiful country I have visited and lived where one can find the finest coffee, good cigars, and excellent rum, or live healthily and eat many exotic and delicious fruits (dragonfruit, nispero, papaya, nancite) and hike through the amazing cloud forests and waterfalls of dormant volcanos. The people are friendly and generally happy and positive. I started playing board games about the same age I began a diary, at five, and so was dually pleased to review a new Web-based board game that lets aspiring writers trace their trajectory of what might happen out there if you try to become an author. You roll the online die to start, and land on a progression of squares on an upward spiraling toward a best seller. I just landed on 'First book tour' that actually occurred forty years ago with The Complete Book of Racquetball. In looking ahead, after 25 published books, tomorrow I'll publish Hobo Moments: 30 Years in Pictures. With it, I'll roll the die for the 26th time and see what happens. You may create and publish your own board game on whatever topic you wish. I created one once on Jogging, where the participants were required to run once around the block for each square advanced, and another on World Travel. The premise for nearly every board game is advancing around a string of squares, the number of jumps which is determined by the luck of the die or drawn card. If of a mathematical mind, you may calculate the odds and lay out the board from scratch; however, the underlying current usually uses the general formula of the classic game Sorry to determine the odds of advancement and time spent on the succession of spots. There is no better way to advance in life than to play it like a board game. September 23, 2015 | Leave a Comment Proprioception is one's capacity to grasp the relative positions of neighboring parts of the body, and the strength and effort being employed in the movement. I used monkey bars, then horsehair mats, a physical board game called Twister, and finally sports. You may also employ musical instruments. You may foretell your career by the childhood instrument. Piano players make better tennis players, drummers step automatically into a helicopter's pilot seat, guitar players make the best martial artists (viz. Elvis), and the most interesting is the vertical space of the saxophone as in reading Chinese. Close your eyes as you play for greater awareness into proprioception. Shift your body weight, and multi-task with another instrument such as a mouth harp. Once, as an experiment, I spent a week where every waking moment was in motion, even while reading and eating. Practicing proprioception improves balance, coordination, strength, weight transfer, quickness, and rhythm. As skill improves, more stimuli are added to continue improvement. As you type a letter, you may multi-task by lifting one foot at a time, and nodding your head. Proprioception is movement intelligence, and should be started at the youngest possible age to improve one's lot in life. The strangest mating ritual furnished from the animal kingdom must be the octopus Argonaut with a detachable penis. It reminds me of how not to play the market, putting all your eggs in one basket and investing it in one place. The market will bear it, but it may be your last venture. The male octopus has one arm longer than the others, known as a hectocotylus, which is used to transfer sperm to the female. The arm stores up the sperm, and when the male finds a mate, he inserts and detaches it while mating. The female will store the hectocotylus in her cavity, but unfortunately for the sea-faring investor, the male is only able to mate once. The female, however, is capable of mating several times over her lifespan. In fact, females have been found that have several hectocotylus in their cavity at the same time. A thousand tomorrows may soon pass without you once having tried dog food. Pet food has come a long way since I cleaned kennels in Michigan and sneaked every of the six types I dished out to the dogs and cats. I see that in 2001 Ralston, Purina, and Alpo merged to produce a line of food that surpasses in flavor and nutrition anything that I've sampled previously. Honestly, it's better than most fast food and some cafes. The Filet Mignon cooked in savory juices is great on spaghetti. The Chicken Rotisserie beats Colonel Sanders because it's not too spicy. It's one thing to enjoy a hearty Roast Beef for dinner, but something in the gravy takes it to a whole new level. The Lamb and Rice may be preferred by those who fear carcinogens in beef and chicken. Like dogs, cats, and most people, my two kit foxes that I feed nightly would rather have gravy on their food. Budget shoppers will find the food affordable in 13-ounce cans selling for about $.70. My first train ride from the Golden Spike in Ogden, UT to San Francisco made a pivot in my life. In the Feather River Canyon, CA, I jumped blindly into a boxcar with the two bad actors with short trousers on the outer borders of the photo. They glared at me like wolves for an hour, and began to move in. Suddenly, the train stopped, and the other two men in the center of the photo climbed in. The initial two were yegs [sometimes spelled "yeggs"], or outlaws of the road, apparently newly released from prison. The other two were bona fide hobos, and became my mentors, teaching me to survive on the rails by using a RR spike for protection, and catching pigeons to eat under bridges in a wicker basket. I jumped out in San Francisco, the first of about 300 freight rides. Of the myriad kinds of risk, many people graduate to the coffin never having sampled any until the last breath. This is a shame because risk is inherent in our being as evolutionary products of the original thought. There is financial risk, credit risk, survival risk with which I'm more familiar, market risk, business risk, sport risk, political risk, romantic risk, health risk, and any other event where the outcome has a value and a penalty with choices involved. My rules for handling risk are: · Gather as much information as possible before entering any risk. · Get a toe wet first, if possible, before the final plunge. · Risks alone are more valuable than when shoaled with others. · During the peak moments of risk constantly evaluate and reevaluate. · Always have a backup plan. · Always have an exit. · When in doubt, be bold. Whatever your brand of risk, these guidelines will keep you afloat to take another, and another, through the discovery of self. September 10, 2015 | Leave a Comment Think Like a Grandmaster also applies to survival. My shingle as Catman Keeley is having lived nine lives. Nearly every disastrous event that I've experienced has three mathematical elements: Danger closing, fewer escape options as the clock ticks, and less time to consider them as the flag starts to drop. Some personal examples are approaching men with knives, a ring of snapping dogs closing, a freight train accelerating with one hand hooked on a ladder, heatstroke under a desert sun while hiking toward water, hypothermia while stumbling toward a distant campfire, swimming fatigue in a rip tide, an approaching head-on collision, cerebral malaria knocking at the brain, encased in a swarm of stinging bees, altitude sickness on a peak, flames licking on a roof, lost on the Pantanal as the moon sets, human stampede as gunshots near, runaway raft filling with holes, sinking in quicksand, cannibals on a slippery riverbank, musical trees in a herd of rhinos, ax chopping through a hotel door, 13' alligators on a one-lane levee, and rising tide on a cliff sided Baja beach. These makes me want to go out and test myself again. Effective ways to train for survival in the wilds are board games for children, sports for teens, and business negotiation as adults. Therefore, everyone has a background to adventure. One of the goals of a person's life, after the work day and reproduction are done, is to discover 'Who am I'? Today I had a discussion with a computer science professor on the definition of self. My thesis is that we are walking computers housed in sentient bodies due to evolution. The sensations of the five senses, plus a few that probably haven't been discovered, are evolved to support the central nervous system computer. There is no other way, or we would not be here. I supported the thesis as one of the oldest living persons to start studying computers. Fifty years ago, I won a science fair blue ribbon for a shoebox full of erector set parts and rolling marbles that solved equations as quickly as an abacus or slide ruler. A perk was a twice weekly class with three other ribbon winners, to a Jackson, MI IBM office full of refrigerator size computers that calculated data using a language called FORTRAN. That evolved into the other programs, and so did I. It's hard to swallow that we are evolved machines encased in flesh in order to become better machines, but defining oneself is where self-improvement starts. My life has consisted of plans, deadlines and goals and not quite enough time to reach them. From so many times with the head on the chopping block, I've learned to deal with stress. You get up in the morning and choose to be active. You do the things you can and give no thought to the things you can't help. Raise the bar. You pick action that covers stress like a blanket. If your mental stress takes physical symptoms such as twitches, seek a quieter environment and exercise. Nothing is quite as chaotic as it seems. Nothing is worth diminishing your health. Just stay active and make the right choices. Today I hiked in the Sonoran desert sand for four waterless hours at 120F in dry air east of the Salton Sea with ten pound ankle weights around each foot. I became overheated and dizzily jumped into a canal to revel in the cool blast. The forgotten ankle weights dragged me to the bottom as my life flashed before me. There were stabbings, illnesses, freight escapes, and lost times in the wilderness in a series that convinced me that the mind remembers quicker than awareness perceives. I couldn’t crawl up the steep canal sides, and so powerfully frog kicked a minute to a rope for bathers, and pulled myself out to live another day. If you pick a fight with a professional or an alpha everything moves in slow motion for him. After he defeats you, he can afford to be magnanimous and get you up, brush you off, and offer pointers for your next fight. I was an alpha in racquetball and paddleball for years and did the same thing. I made many friends by beating people and then giving them tips so they could do better against me next time to improve my game. I recently reacquainted with a guy I used to spar with in wrestling named James Hydrick who was an alpha on the martial arts circuit and held a Guinness Record for breaking the most concrete with a single blow. His ring, street and prison fights are legend, numbering in the hundreds, and he lost twice on flukes. Many involved weapons and being outnumbered six to one. He would always get his opponent up after beating them, dust them off, offer tips, and become their friend. In the same way, fighting in nature among animals is to establish a pecking order, particularly in choosing an alpha. If you pick a fight with an alpha, be prepared to fight to the death, or be brushed off and become a member of the pack. July 28, 2015 | 1 Comment Forever Stamps are used for currency in prisons and psychiatric hospitals where inmates and patients aren't allowed to have money. Not only is it a medium of exchange, it is a good store of value as stamps appreciate with the US Postal rates which historically have never declined. The days of prisoners and patients being allowed to have two packs of cigarettes a week are long gone. In California and most other states there is a full ban on tobacco. Regardless, smokers get them and, per supply and demand, the price of tobacco in the facilities has risen astronomically, and can be even more expensive than dope. When you think of prison economics the second thing that should come to mind after cigarettes is ‘mack' – small tins or pouches of preserved mackerel or tuna. Since 2004, mack has replaced ciggies for trading goods and services because they are small with a inestimable shelf life. Inmates and patients have built an entire economic structure around the oily fish. Then, in 2007, Forever Stamps became the staple currency because they are smaller and last as long as cigarettes and mack, and they appreciate in value over time. They are non-denominational first class postage which means they can be used to mail first class letters no matter what the future postal rate. For example, in 2013 a Forever Stamp cost $.46 to mail a first class one-ounce letter, but today it costs $.49, which is an appreciation of about 7%. One pack for a microwaved Mexican cuisine. Two macks for a haircut. Two books of Forever Stamps for a jug of bootleg wine. Forever Stamps are so popular that improvised black markets spontaneously emerge around them with inmates offering everything from handcrafts to clothes and televisions. There are 20 stamps per booklet which has a value of $10.00, and the booklets are generally not broken. That is, starched laundry is a book but never a book-and-half, and a bodyguard for a day may cost five books but stamps are never pulled. Inmates and patients can procure postage stamps easily and legally by mail or in in-house exchanges for goods and services making them a de facto form of payment. In fact, postage stamps are considered legal tender in the United States. You should be able to go into Wal-Mart or any store and purchase any of these items offered in prisons and hospitals. However, bill collection in the underworld is more grisly. If inmates don't get paid for goods, services or loans then criminal acts are going to follow. Contract hits over owing Forever Stamps occur daily. There is an odd wrinkle called 'upping the value' of a booklet by offering a $7.00 item for two books of stamps that are worth $10.00. Yes, it cost the buyer $3.00 more but the thing was in demand with stamps in great supply. The seller may then turn around and put the stamps as money on his prison or hospital commissary account, or send the booklets home to be used as full value to send him more goods or stamps. All of which means the prison or ward economy runs much like a commodities market: Money in a commissary account can’t be traded, but goods sold at the commissary can be. And since the amounts in circulation are tightly regulated, their value can far surpass their price in dollars. Store men — prison or psych businessmen who have amassed a fortune of stamps — often mail stamps to loved ones outside effectively converting their fortune into cash, reducing the number of stamps in play and thereby inflating the value of individual stamps. In the corrections and hospital system, enterprising businessmen amass vast fortunes of strange juju. These eccentric fortunes cannot be deposited into traditional banks nor can their value be added on machines. Instead, they are hoarded in secret piggy banks like seat cushions and hollowed bedposts. One never knows when he will need an uncommon item not sold by the commissary such as clean urine (stored in condoms) for a drug test, and has to go to the bank to pay for it. In the joint, everything has a value and ingenuity is priceless. And with that, we must study the improvised, underground economies of America’s vast prison and psychiatric systems. In traditional economies, money has three primary functions: as a medium of exchange, as a unit of account, and as a store of value. Forever Stamps are the underworld gold standard that citizens outside the walls might envy in some ways. Discouragement is between you and your dreams. Imagine the ways you deal with it in life, business, sports, board games and romance, and then take a tip from deep in the desert. I've discovered after living here for two decades that desert rats, as they fondly call themselves, deal with the hardships or heat, privation, and loneliness in eight ways. 1. Books: This is a lifelong plunge. 2. Booze: So is this, so try the other seven first. 3. Exercise: This was my adaptation many years ago; the washes are my sidewalks. 4. Refrigerator People: Live with one hand on the door. 5. Hobby: For most, it's fixin' cars. 6. Estivation: Not found in some dictionaries, this is the desert form of hibernation. 7. TV: Hours of it. 8. Sex: Beats watching the cactus grow, or does it? One of the first questions to ask a person to know them better is: "What do you do in your spare time?" The answer in the desert is always one of the above. And from that you will be discouraged or encouraged. Think of encouragement as a cheerleader that says, "Do it!, Don't give up!" until you reach your dreams. With copper selling at $2.50 a pound, wire thefts have become increasingly popular. Last month in fashionable Chesapeake, VA my brother chased down two midnight strippers on his bicycle. Little desert towns around me now in southern California look like war zones with every fourth shanty or mobile home broken into, and stripped. At my own Sand Valley property wire robbers stripped the extension cords, dug up underground wires, and burned them to the precious 'green gold' in my backyard barbeque. The other day in Niland, CA I was house hunting and paused at the sheriff station to inquire about neighborhood safety. The radio blurted, 'Copper stripper in the act in the chartreuse house on Fifth Street.' The sheriff piped, 'Will you stand by?' and I replied, 'Yes'. But secretly I tailed him, turning into an alley behind the chartreuse home. I got out and looked for people or prints, as the officer yelled, 'Police' and banged through door after door inside. He exited, pistol in hand, and yelled, 'Freeze!.' 'I'm the house hunter!' I shouted. We trailed the robber down the alley, and because of the price of copper I've decided to buy a house elsewhere. Pitt T. Maner III writes: There is a nice reward for those helping to catch Cu thieves: "With the theft of copper communications cable increasing in Southern California, Verizon is offering up to $10,000 to anyone who can provide the company with information that leads to the arrest of the perpetrators." Strange events since the price of copper appears to be near a multi-year low…perhaps the cables are easier targets or the thieves have become more sophisticated in finding and exploiting them. The metal scrappers at the largest bombing range in USA, the Chocolate Mt. Gunnery range adjacent to my property, keep a close watch on the London Metal Market, Dow, and Brass/Copper relationship in order to know when to hold or sell their precious metals. This week they're been especially vigilant while scavenging under the full moon on the bomb range. Yesterday at sunset five quads forayed independently but in radio contact in case of breakdown, running out of gas, or pursuit by the military police or Border Patrol. There had been constant bombing for twelve hours that shook the ground we stood on and a perpetual rat-a-tats from jets and copters ejecting brass shells at over 60 per second at targets on the range. The range was littered with four-inch long shells worth a quarter. Each scrapper made two or three runs after sundown and returning with the last load before sunset with hundreds of shells per load. They pool the metal, and if the market price is right one pickup truck drives it to a San Diego recycle center that accepts military scrap. Each scrapper nets about $500 for a night's work. They carried ice water, backpacks and milk crates for brass on their medium-size ATV's. They sleep all day, and are rising again this hour before sunset to run the range again, and again until the moon wanes later this week. The current price of brass is $1.60 a pound, so some of the men are holding, and others who need money are selling. The metal market relationships are: When the Dow is up the price of metals is usually down. The London Metal Index is the primary guide to know when to hold or sell. When there's a war somewhere around the world, the price of aluminum jumps, and the scrappers start unscrewing the two-foot bomb fins from six-foot long 1000-lb. bombs that leave craters big enough to sit a small home into. The first business book I read was Napoleon Hill's Think and Grow Rich in which I learned to establish a master mind group to learn from. I always hired people who were smarter than me, and tried to keep control of the business. The second business book that shook me up was Ross Perot's In His Own Words during a 7.2 Richter earthquake in San Felipe, Baja Mexico that flung me off the earth as rocks tumbled down the arroyo walls and the nearby tide on Cortez receded 12 feet in three seconds. The third book I just finished is Perot's autobiography My Life: The Principles for Success. In my life, as well as my life, the principles involved are really principles of life. Businesses need not be big to practice these standards. Small businesses are the backbone of the American economy that began fossilizing about twenty years ago with stricter government regulations. I urge you to beat the odds and establish your own business to get you to the heart of yourself. My first capitalistic venture was a nickel-a-glass Kool Aid stand on the summer streets of Idaho Falls. I learned that a seasonal business is better than none at all. The second major business was Service Press Inc. out of a Michigan garage that came about when I published two books in one day. The lesson from that was don't overextend your budget based on your dreams. The third business in swap meets went surprisingly well. I had returned bone broke from two years of travel and, on walking into my old racquetball sponsor's warehouse, noticed a hill of racquets gathering dust. They were seconds, blems, demos and returns that the company boss let me have for a song to sell at the flea markets. The first weekend I took ten racquets to the San Diego Sports Arena swap meet and sold out in an hour to pay my hotel bill. The next week I took 100 racquetball, tennis and squash racquets that sold out the first day enabling me to buy a motorcycle with a sidecar to carry more. The third weekend in the first five minutes my competitor bought me out, and I had enough money to travel again. The fourth business was a slum landlord, which is a misnomer. My partner and I bought fixer-upper houses in well-groomed sections of Lansing, MI and fixed them up in learning the golden rule of real estate is location. I earned enough to buy more books, and travel. A few years ago, I established an executive hobo service that combined riding the rails with show business. Semi-annually I get a call from out of the blue from someone or the media wanting to ride the rails to gain perspective a la the prince and the pauper. When the kings of the offices meet the kings of the road, warm sparks fly and a good time is had. Here are some of the principles of what I've learned in business and life: · Save your money, and when you can afford what you want, buy it. · Don't disappoint the scruples of your parents or peers, or you will break their hearts. · It may seem unthinkable that a six-year old can work, but you cannot start too early. · Grow your business as you probably grew, a little at a time without overextending it. · Conduct your business in the center field of ethical behavior. · The incentive of working for yourself is the more seeds you sow the more crops you reap. · Don't give up. In the past six months I've been attacked dozens of times by dogs and thugs in the Amazon, lost everything in a Miami office robbery, was defaulted on a large loan to a friend, lost my family, and lost most of what I owned in a desert home robbery. But I've written ten books in that time, and that paints a rosy picture. With a lot of hard work, a master mind group, the good sense of persistence, and maybe a little luck, your potential for success is practically unlimited. Please don't limit my success by not letting me work harder than the next guy. Some people don't think they have much chance because they weren't born with a silver spoon in their mouth, but using these principles you may succeed in small business and your life. Here's one of the most useful things i tell my students: once an old man told me to pull out a sheet of paper and order the five things in life that are most important to me. Most people choose: money, family, job, security, sex. for me (Keeley) the list i made at age 25 yrs was: knowledge, experiences, health, travel. and helping others. I've reordered those throughout the years, but the list remains the same. A patient walks into a doctor’s office for a diagnosis of whatever ails him. A time-consuming, costly battery of tests follows that comes up with a targeted diagnosis many hundreds of dollars and days later. However, in Latin America the doctor examines the patient, asks a few questions, and 15 minutes later has a short list of differential diagnoses. This is the two or three candidates for the cause. Then, one-by-one, corrections are made until the right one is found. It’s almost always the first or the second educated guess. This is Latin medicine, on-the-spot diagnosis and treatment that prevents costly, time consuming lab tests. I’ve been through it a hundred times for my zoology of past and healed problems. One doctor in Mexicali told me that he could practice in the USA, but prefers Mexico because of this protocol. In 1978, I published in one day It's a Racquet and The Kill and Rekill Gang out of an unheated garage on a Michigan lake where the keys of an IBM Selectric froze when I breathed on them. Here however, the two books come from a Miami high-speed internet office where I've worked a month of daily double 7-hour shifts with a miner's lamp over the keyboard and sleep on the roof in the sun. With these publications, I'll hit the trail to exercise something other than the fingers, and probably stumble on new adventures. February 13, 2015 | 1 Comment 1949 Born a common man in Schenectady, NY. 1972 Doctor of Veterinary Medicine from MSU. 1973 First of seven Paddleball National Singles Titles. 1972-8 Top touring racquetball professional … Canadian National Champion … First clinic tour of Central and South America. 1974 Bicycled San Diego to Detroit, and Canada to Mexico. 1974-7 Featured in Sports Illustrated 'He Found His Racquet' and other publications. 1978 Owner of Service Press, small publisher of It's a Racquet and The Kill & Rekill Gang in one day. 1975-85 Author of six books and over 100 magazine articles on sports and travel. 1985 Taught sociology class 'Hobo Life in America' at Lansing community College, MI … Psych Technician Certificate from LCC … Worked in psych wards and old folks homes … Lived three months with 'psychic' James Hydrick. 1985-98 Traveled 95 countries of the world under a backpack. 1998 Commodities advisor on a solo 13-country tour made CNN News, Barron's, Wall Street Journal. 1995-9 Hiked the lengths of Florida, Colorado, Vermont and Baja. 1999-2006 Sub school teacher and college tutor in Blythe, CA … Conduct Executive Hobo trips throughout America. 2000-06 Homestead and living as a desert recluse in the Sonora while working on the One-Ton Autobiography of Catman Keeley. 2007-09 Adventure guide in southwest USA and Baja. 2007 First California substitute teacher fired for stopping a playground war … Hit the rails, and foreign travel. 2008-12 Become an itinerant expatriate writing from select Shangri-las including Iquitos, Peru, San Felipe, Baja and Lake Toba, Sumatra. 2008 Three month bus tour of Central America … Caught up in an armed Mexican marijuana smuggling mule train through Copper Canyon. 2009 Buy a seasonal retirement home in the Peruvian Amazon … Continued adventure posts at Daily Speculations, International Man, and Swans Commentary. 2010 Write a biography Kill Richard of an FBI agent who fled murdering CIA agents to San Felipe, Baja … Publish Keeley's Kures while detained by a Sumatra immigration mixup. 2011 Tour Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia … Hobo ride-along with London Times reporter Joe Wobey from Sacramento toward Britt National Hobo Convention written up in 'Twilight on the Rails' … Freight with Central American immigrants from Guatemala through Mexico to USA … Publish Executive Hobo: Riding the American Dream. 2012 Read my obituary, articles, embassy report, memorial service and Art Shay's 'The Legend of Bo Keeley Grows' … Faceoff with bear in scratch contest in NM mountains … Complete a two-month walking and dirt bike reconnoiter of Baja for the Baja 1000 Hiking Trail … Wikipedia 'Steven Bo Keeley' is top rated. 2013 Gilbert Keeley, father dies, and scrap the Chocolate Mt. Gunnery Range for fare to attend his funeral … Fourth attempt through the Darien Gap is foiled by Colombian rebels … 'Last Sail of El Gato' near death sailing from Panama to Cartagena … Three months hoboing Peru rivers in banana boats … Launch the first bilingual tourist newspaper The Amazon Times of Iquitos … Publish five books from Miami including Charlie Brumfield: King of Racquetball, Women Racquetball Pioneers, Basic English One-Page, The Longest Walk, and The Longest Walk Companion… 'Elvis and the Memphis Racquetball Mafia' is syndicated … Founder and curator of Facebook US Racquetball Museum with 5000 friends. 2014 Hobo ride-along with Mother Jones journalist Tim Murphy from Los Angeles via Texas to Chicago and profiled in Jan. 2015 'The Amazing, Possibly True Adventures of Catman Keeley' … Worst case of anemia with 50% normal hemoglobin in the history of Iquitos … Seven months in Peru publishing Stories from Iquitos, Greatest Photos Around the World, Chess and Sport, and Racquetball's Best: Pros Speak from the Box … Asked to a hold rare set of CIA medals by a Miami agent who commits suicide… Inducted into the NPA Paddleball Hall of Fame … Decline induction for the 15th straight year into the USAR Racquetball Hall of Fame. 2015 Publish from Miami Elvis's Humor: Girls, Guns & Guitars, Bill Schultz: Ringmaster of Sport, Book of Bo: Gems of My Life … scuttle a 825 page, 40-year in the making Advanced Racquetball from amazon.com and the public for 'inappropriate conduct' and quoting Atlas Shrugged … Consultant for documentary 'James Hydrick: Fifteen Minute Messiah' … Read stories to Runes 'Dusting and Sweeping' audio series for the William Buchanan Spoken Word Project … Return to the life of a wandering hermit. More dynamic than Water for Elephants, more picturesque than Dr. Zhivago, and more accurate than My Left Foot, Emperor of the North gets my vote for the best movie of the 20th century. Shack in railroad terms has evolved various meanings. The RR term is for switchmen, the guys who traveled trains to throw switches at the track junctions, or more broadly applied to any RR yardmen who work out of a 'shack' that you see at either end of every yard. This is where the workers get out of the weather, smoke cigarettes, and play cards and checkers. Sitting in a shack too long without getting out for fresh air is called shack fever. I've been invited by itchy feet shackmen into their friendly shacks dozens of times on cross country runs. Typically, they're cramped shanties from coast to coast constructed of clapboard or concrete a little larger than a phone booth with a pot belly stove and wallpaper of manifests, Playboy centerfolds, and hangman. You shoot the breeze with the men, sometimes a woman, and they help you get on the next freight. In the movie Emperor of the North Shack is the character of Ernest Borgnine who was born for the roll. He rides the locomotive or caboose as the conductor, who in the old days doubled as the RR bull, or security. He is challenged by A#1, aka Lee Marvin, who has an historical character and I've read a dozen of his autobiographies, such as The Snare of the Road. Emperor of the North takes place in the Great Depression of the U.S., and the country is full of people who are unemployed and homeless. Shack apparently hates the hordes that try to ride his trains, and swears that no hobo will ride his train for free. Along comes A#1, cool and tall, and smoking cigarettes like a smokestack, and puts his life at stake to ride Shack's freight. A-#1 is locked into a cattle car and sets fire to the hay in order to burn his way through the wooden slats. He succeeds and hurls himself off the car to make his getaway, as the train pulls into the yard with smoke curling up the lip of an infuriated Shack. Shack meets A-#1 in a bloody fight with chains, 2×4 boards, and an axe. A#1 uncouples the cars from the tender, the other bo's run interference for him, he throws switches, and employs all the other tricks of the trade still used today to get through on the fast mail train to its final destination in Portland. Portland, I know, is a rustic yard with shade pines on both sides, where you can cross under and catch a city bus for a quarter downtown to the Hobo District. Driven to desperation by the economic depression of 1930s, the hundreds of hobos who cheer A#1 on, formed an American subculture hopping freights to get from place to place in search of jobs, handouts, or even to take it easy sometimes, as is still done today. Emperor of the North depicts a microcosm of this subculture set in Oregon, and actually used the Oregon, Pacific & Eastern RR which was taken up in the mid-1990s, like so many other tracks around the country, to recycle the steel road and make walking and bicycle paths. In the world today, a half-century after the movie's making (1973), there are still shacks where the shackmen - brakemen, switchmen, and conductors - hang out, but no cabooses since the 1990's when they were were replaced at the end of the freights by FRED, that we hobos call the F__ing Rear End Device. It's a 12''-square red-blinking box that is an essential electronic caboose. If there's no FRED, that freight isn't going anywhere. Now the companies have cut back the bulls to a skeleton crew, if any at all, in most yards in a financial strategy that makes it easier than ever to catch fast freights along the American gridiron. You have to see the movie to know the classic encounter between the railroad hobo and bull. February 1, 2015 | Leave a Comment In my hoboing days, when the Los Angeles cops knocked on my door at the Rainbow hotel down from the library, and barged in, cuffed and hauled me to the nut hatch… I thought to ask them in route, 'Why?' The reason is I had paid a week in advance at the hotel and not left the room, having returned from world travel with a need to hole up. The manager had called the police, I believe, because the hotel was full and he wanted the room to collect double rent. On skid row there are all sorts of tricks like this to generate income, and off skid row. The hatch they stuck me in is considered LA's finest. After checking in, while refusing to sign the registry, I was labeled dangerous as a former professional athlete. The nurse gave me a Thorazine pill to swallow that I used sleight of hand to stick it in an apple. Otherwise I could have been stuck in that place for a decade of mandatory doping doing the 'Thorazine shuffle' up and down the halls like a bear in a zoo. The California law requires that a new patient be observed during a '72 Hour Hold', and then is evaluated by a psychiatrist to see if the patient should be held for a further period of observation, or released. Fortunately, the evaluating shrink was a compassionate, intelligent zookeeper. He knew that, as in County Jails, the government pays a stipend for the initial three days an inmate is held, and after that it's his duty to shoo the client out to make room for the next money maker. The evaluating psychiatrist asked me to prove my wild claim that I was a veterinarian, and I told him his wife's poodle's gestation period was 63 days. Then he said, 'If you were me, would you let yourself out?' I answered by requesting a couple of dollar bills from his wallet, and quickly memorized the serial numbers, returned the bills, and rattled off the 20 digits. He signed the release, and pointed me to the checkout counter. Now it was another double rent situation, because the clerk tried to get me to pay for three days lodging, that couldn't be enforced because I hadn't signed their register. I escaped on a technicality, and, instead of returning to settle the score with the Rainbow Hotel manager, I got out of town on a freight train and slept in the woods. So-called psychic James Hydrick was different from your run-of-mill overnight swindlers. He was born poor in the Deep South, chained to a tree as a child, fed dog food, but a spark kept him striving to find his real self. As a teen, he was shuttled from orphanages to foster homes, only to run away again and again, chased by the hounds. He escaped to Hollywood, in search of a cinematic dream, where tryouts for parts didn't develop. He modeled, took part time jobs, and earned a black belt in karate. By his early twenties, his timing was exquisite and body like an oak when he ran afoul of the law. He robbed a van, fenced the merchandise, got caught, and thrown in the LA county Jail that is the bowels of hell with 2000 screaming inmates. (I know because I once landed there myself on a trumped up jaywalking ticket.) He became, according to the County Jail shrink I talked to, the King of the inmates. He decked the Black Gorillas gang leader in the shower room for soliciting homosexual favors and, with a bounty on his head, was thrown into a 15' cube solitary cell on the lowest level. The LA County Jail is normally a transit facility, however he was a special protective case, and spent two years there in solitary, where he spent thousands of hours working out and learning how to move objects without touching them. On trips to the Big House shrink he stole and stuck pins and paperclips under his skin as lock picks, that eventually were found on x-rays but not surgically removed because of the cost to the County. He developed a close relationship with the Catholic monk while in solitary who, upon Hydrick's release, understood that the ex-con needed to be sent far away, and chose Salt Lake as his new home during probation. He was quartered with a hulking retired marine officer and staunch Mormon business executive and his family to live with under control. I met Hydrick one day in 1980 in Salt Lake where I was doing a racquetball camp. I noticed a lone figure in the gym taking five running steps, jumping, inverting in mid-air, and touching a basketball rim 10' off the floor with one foot. We adjourned to a desk where, without touching, he moved pencils, papers and other small objects from a distance of up to 5'. I smelled a story. We became apartment mates for six months, as he started a dojo and local tour of his stunts, and I wrote and photographed them. (Some of my photos would appear uncredited in martial art and online magazines.) Soon sport and psychic apprentices from around the country arrived at the dojo doorsteps to learn Hydrick's 'powers'. From 1980-1 he appeared on That's Incredible, What's My Line, and the Danny Korem Show. Then I was in the wind, and he was reported moving pyramids in Egypt with a new host of devotees. The next thing I knew he was picked up on an outstanding warrant when a policeman recognized him on a 1989 Sally Jessy Raphael episode. He has been incarcerated to this day, except for one short respite last year, at the Coalinga State Hospital Maximum Security Hospital for the violent mentally disturbed that opened its door for the first time, as if for Hydrick, in 2005. James is not mentally disturbed, just misunderstood from the aforementioned childhood trauma. He used to take knives and swords and strike within an inch of my body, without touching the skin, when we sparred. My family was worried about my getting taken into the Hydrick cult and sent a deprogrammer to Salt Lake to rescue. After a short discussion, I was convinced he was off his rocker, but acquiesced out of respect to my family, and ducked out of Hydrick's life. To pick up on details, I went to LA and traded racquetball lessons with four turnkeys at the County Jail for an introduction to the psychiatric staff. They vouched that Hydrick had been the King of the LA County Jail and showed me radiographs of a half-dozen metal objects under his skin. I met and buddied with the Catholic Chaplin to a dozen monasteries throughout the Southwest. According to Hydrick's transcript, the deputies in the County Jail were frightened of him, thought him possessed. The Chaplin taught him to read and write, and gave him a Bible. To pass time in a timeless place, Hydrick proselytized, converting up to twenty inmates a day like a prophet. He opened the Bible and commanded, 'Hold the Bible. Father, in the name of Jesus Christ make these pages move. And the pages would flutter and turn.' Hydrick's telekinetic powers were common magician tricks mastered to a high art in solitaire, plus one that was never discussed. I believe he could blow out the tear ducts on the medial side of each eye, small openings that drain tears into the nasal passage. I found in a 1950s Ripley's Believe it or Not a reference to a 19th century Englishman who blew out candles 'through his eyes' from 6' away. He was released from Coalinga on probation for a few months in 2014, and was reported as having taken a day-to-day room in the San Diego Gaslamp Quarter. No address was given, but there is only one, where I used to stay while doing the Sports Arena Swap Meet. I visited the Golden West hotel on 4th Avenue where they told me he had left, and is reported back in Coalinga. The lesson is to keep your eyes open when you dabble in the esoteric. Atlas Shrugged was the biggest, most beautiful book and for ten years has been my standard. That's how long it took to write Advanced Racquetball, the sequel to my best selling Complete Book of Racquetball that promised, forty years ago, this sequel. It's 825 pages and covers every aspect of the game from sneaker to frontal lobes for Open to Pro players. It was a labor of love for 1000 hours in an Amazon sweat box cyber for 11 hours a day, seven days a week for the last three months, on top of a previous thousand or so hours writing earlier sections. There are over 400 photos including sequential strokes and serves. Personal interviews with 90% of the 30 most recent world champions. A full appendectomy. I decided to scuttle the title, and shrug like Atlas, due to the incompetence of the undeserving racquetball community. They are also a verbal rather than print page readers. My goal was accomplished in writing the book and listing it at Amazon.com. One other set of Miami eyes who has read the single copy in existence said, 'It's very good, but too long for the racquetball mentality.' I'll give the single copy, like Diogenes, to the first deserving player I meet. I withhold it from the public and if you want to know why read Atlas Shrugged. January 30, 2015 | 1 Comment 'Mr. Keeley, rush to the to the SED room! The students are throwing chairs at the teacher!' Weekly, at Blythe, CA High School through the 2000s, a frantic version of this blast over the school intercom for all to hear summoning me to put out another fire in the Severely Emotionally Disturbed classroom at the back of the campus between the 4-H pens of pigs, goats and cows and the broad irrigation canal. Once there, in the spartan SED room, the small group of eight edgy youngsters told how they had browbeat or attacked the sub fleeing the doorway at that second. I would answer, 'Everyone in Sand Valley where I live, and everyone throughout my travels, flies off the handle once in a while. The trick is to identify the cause and correct it. It's the same process as fixing a racquet stroke, where I was a champion.' Fortunately, as in racquetball where I flung my cover onto the court and was ahead 3-0 before the first serve, my reputation preceded me into this classroom. Sometimes I think the students rioted to summon me, as prison inmates stage food fights to break routine. The kids brightened to reveal the bizarre reasons for their misbehavior that had caused their banishment to this awkward class. First, I told them, 'We aren't going to use the term SED around here. Labels create identities. You guys are as normal as me and my neighbors in Sand Valley. Next, the goal is to mainstream you back into the normal classes. Third, if you're in here at your parent's order to create a portfolio of being whacky in order to get on welfare for the rest of your lives, think again. There's a long line of students wishing to replace you in this class. Fourth, my methods are unorthodox but effective. I'm not a schooled psychologist, but if you do your work, I'll reward each daily lesson with a related story from the road.' Their excuses were miserably true. Some were rising with the roosters at 5 am without breakfast to ride a bus for an hour from an outlying farm to the school, and arrived irritated. Or, their parents drank and hit them the night before. A couple were worried about being accosted after school, and showed secreted 10" drill bits slid into their book spines. One albino had unrecognized photophobia. Another was dyslexic. Another painted his fingernails purple and talked with a lisp for attention. These were the campus hard luck cases lumped into one classroom, their last chance before expulsion, and I was their last hope. When you have someone over a barrel like this, life is actually pretty easy. I dimmed the harsh fluorescent lights, and we did jumping jacks, sit-ups and pushups for twenty minutes. Then I turned down the thermostat to cool the room, a la public airplanes to calm the passengers. I opened the day's assignment from the permanent SED teacher, the gorgeous lady I'll call Ms. Libda, who often was away at business meetings, and so her duty fell on me. She was talented, caring, a former Navy medic, cop, and prison turnkey. After their work was done, and the adventure story reward, I wrote up a detailed report on what had taken place and the progress of each student in mirror writing. Mirror writing reads from right to left, and early on in my subbing career the principal had called me into his office to explain why many of the students, especially the athletes, were seen reading their texts upside down. He had a boxing picture of himself on the wall from his youth, and I threw a mock left hook at his jaw, while justifying that if he had read print flowing right-to-left then his eyes would be quicker to have caught the jab, as well as the next butterfly, car or ball. My after class reports to the Ms. Libda were a hit, and one day she addressed me, 'The students like you, and so do I. I see you as a male version of myself.' We commenced dating and she, in a mothering way, often slept in late after calling the school for a sub, so I could get a call on the same phone to report for work. The goals were met with success, the students stopped clawing wallpaper off the walls, were cordial to the visiting sheriff, no more suicide attempts, and the primary object to mainstream the students back into their ordinary classrooms. The most valuable lesson I imparted to my xenophobic students was on Small Town, America. 'That's normal as she goes in Small Town, America'. Their explanation for everything is, 'We been here a hundred years, and we been doing things this way a hundred years.' Hence the state motto, 'Be part of a group, take and give orders, obey.' The solution, students, is to proceed with patience through your youth, and then strike out to new horizons. You can always take the beaten path back to Blythe. Ms. Libda finally took a job elsewhere, and I was hired by Riverside County to replace her full time. There was a huge boost in salary to $40,000 with full medical. I began anonymously donating 15% of my salary back to student lunches, good books, pupil doctor bills, and chessboards for the library. I had a great idea from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest in which the patient McMurray masquerading as a psychiatrist takes the other patients on outings from the hospital. Securing permission from the principal, who was now my pal from the boxing lesson, I took the SED classes on educational outings to the city library, prison, bowling alley, and for nature walks along the irrigation ditch that blocked their graduation into the real world. In the coming months, my classroom door was revolving like a barroom on a Saturday night with new students arriving as soon as the former were mainstreamed. Soon the backlist ran out, and the class dwindled to three students. One day, after being the full-time SED teacher for about six months, I was called during class by the Riverside school administration. The director politely informed, 'I see you have mainstreamed nearly all of your students back into their regular classrooms. Congratulations. We are letting you go.' I laughed, cleaning the desk. I had worked myself out of a job! The lesson is don't be a square peg in a round hole without expecting consequence. Heed your inner calling, but be prepared to move on. I hit the trail to world adventure to have more stories to tell to a succeeding class. January 14, 2015 | 1 Comment You may read a guidebook, or just as well judge a people in a new land by their dogs. In rainforest Iquitos, five years ago, all the dogs were friendly, and so were all of the 700,000 citizens I encountered during multiple visits from 1999 through five years ago, 2010. As the new decade swung in computers arrived, and provided a model for thought that was non-existent 'PC'. Affluence followed the ability to think starting about four years ago, in 2011, and now the dogs, people and their wallets are fat. I was never once barked at nor accosted in the pre-computer era, but tomorrow I return to the US as if from a war. My legs are riddled with dog bites from virtually daily attacks for seven months, and the human assaults have been bi-weekly. Why not go to the police, you ask? Before 2010, there were effectively no police in Iquitos except for a handful of pretty señoritas in white uniforms who stood like marble statues in the plazas. Now there are thousands of police on motorcycles, in the first cars to arrive in the city, and walking the beats. The police step in when someone asks, and the case is decided on the street according to which arguer bribes the highest. Law enforcement is an auction, and because I am wealthier than most it has saved many hard times and my passport once. However, a dozen other times the police have stood chuckling while snapping dogs ringed me, without stepping in because the sport is greater pleasure. The children offer to kill them, and the going rate is $2 for a small dog or $4 for a large one. I have only put a bounty on two dogs: a rotten Rottweiler and a nasty large golden lab that attack me daily. The canines' method is to ring and wait for an opening, or to lay in wait and bite from behind. If one stands up to one or a band of two or four legged attackers, they wilt. However, this has left my one set of clothes (on a rainforest island of small, strong people like the dwarves in the Hobbit and nothing fits my American frame) in tatters after multiple repairs, and the socks have lost their toes, and the shoes are a laugh. The faculty to think and an ability to buy nice things came too fast for the Peruvians. Nearly overnight, they became as cartoonish as a Bugs Bunny film, as indulgent as Golding's Lord of the Flies, and their seemingly rabid bands of dogs are the leading indicator. However, there are still dogs that follow me like the Pied Piper for kibble I let drop from a hole in my knapsack, two señoritas have named their newborns after me, and I didn't even sleep with them, and kids dangle 5' rattlesnakes from 12' cane poles they have used to kill the serpents to keep my path safe. "The Amazing, Possibly True Adventures of Catman Keeley and his Corporate Hoboes: on the road with the former veterinarian, ex raquetball champ, and freight hopping adventurer who shows adventurers how the other half lives" Do you have any thoughts on sports streaks? The article below I ghost wrote. My feeling on streaks must be mathematical that they almost always occur in 1. a small field of players/teams, and 2. in a weak field of player/teams. A large field of talented players is stable and produces a frequent change of champions. Therefore, when one sees sports streaks it's usually in minor sports or when it's bear times for that game. Top 10 Streaks By Brett Elkins and Jim Spittle They call them the Streaks! These are the ten players with the Greatest Streaks in Racquetball History. #10 Robert Sostre and partner Freddy Ramirez team up for 12 consecutive undefeated years in all Pro/Open 1-Wall New York tournaments from 1997-2009 which includes the events that are considered by most to be the Pro Championships of One-Wall. #9 Lynn Adams ranks the World #1 or #2 every pro season between 1980 and 1991. With six women's Pro National Singles titles (1982, 1983, 1985-1988) and Player of the Year eight times (1982–88, 1990). #8 Paola Longoria whose consecutive LPRT pro tour win streak ended after 142 consecutive pro singles LPRT match wins over 3 and 1/2 years. During this time, she lost only 18 games in those matches (best of five games). And her international streak still remains intact where she hasn't lost in any major world competition since the 2011 Pan American Games in Guadalajara, Mexico. #7 Peggy Steding goes undefeated for almost two years in 1973 and 1974 winning the IRA National Singles and Doubles Championships both years, as well as every other tournament she entered. Rarely did an opponent score ten points in a twenty-one point games against this enduring Texan Racquetball Pioneer. #6 Charlie Brumfield and Steve Serot go undefeated in doubles from 1973 to 1978. Brum and Serot won the 1973 IRA National Doubles, the 1974 National Invitational Doubles, the 1976 NRC Pro National Doubles, the 1977 IRA/IPRO National Doubles, and the 1978 IRA/IPRO National Doubles titles without dropping a match. #5 Charlie Brumfield wins twenty consecutive tournaments in 1972 and 1973 including the 1972 IRA National Singles, the 1972 National Invitational Doubles with Dr. Bud Muehleisen, the 1973 IRA Nationals Singles, the 1973 IRA National Doubles with Steve Serot, and the 1973 National Invitational Doubles with Dr. Bud Muehleisen. #4 Cliff Swain is at the top echelon of the pro game for twenty years … winning his first two pro stops in 1985 and his last two in 2004. In between, Swain won another seventy events and finished six seasons ranked #1 in the World, and five seasons at #2. #3 Brian Hawkes rules the Outdoor courts winning twenty National Singles Titles over three decades in truly dominant fashion. #2 Marty Hogan goes undefeated for over a year from October 1978 to December 1979 while playing three versions of the game. Hogan wins the Pro Nationals, The Outdoor Nationals, and The Paddleball Nationals in one year for the sports only Triple Crown during the most competitive and deepest draws in pro racquetball history. #1 Kane goes undefeated for almost three years winning 137 consecutive matches and rarely losing a game. King Kane dominated the sport at the highest level like no other. Richard Owen writes: Great list and analysis from Bo. On a slightly different tack there's also people like Usain Bolt, who runs in a very deep and talented field. Same with Pete Sampras, Gary Kasparov, Lance Armstrong, etc. I guess "weak" could be defined in a relative sense, but that would makes me wonder if the only reason they have a streak is because they are the only ones good enough to have a streak. So technological advantage? Usain's height, the Finns' invention of interval training, Armstrong's doping. But wait, most of Armstrong's competitors were probably doping in that era too… How to explain? There seems to be an aspect of ever changing cycles in sport too. Everyone does endurance, so you do HIIT, you win. Everyone copies, etc. December 24, 2014 | Leave a Comment I was sitting this morning with my back against a vine lined wall eating rice and a hard-boiled egg, and looking around the streets of Iquitos thinking what a cartoon it has turned into in five years. Five years ago, a computer revolution created the first consciousness in this river locked rainforest port. The prior citizens had no inkling of space or time and existed in the present. The computers provided a model for thinking, which everyone quickly absorbed, so now the people can think and to a degree analyze. Concurrently – and who's to say if the egg or chicken came first – an economic boom from gold, ayahuasca tourism, and improved conditions, has changed the city landscape. Five years ago, there were no motorcycles, and now there are tens of thousands. Now the citizens wear western clothes instead of rags. Tourists find the girls don't chase them as far for favors. The origin of consciousness and the tide of money has come too fast and turned the town into a cartoon. The citizens have ballooned in weight, without stop signs there are continual motorbike crashes at intersections, the money has bought plastic junk for Christmas presents, and aguardiente, which is the local cane alcohol, flows in the streets like the adjacent Rio Amazon. It's like living in a bubble, and the closest sensation is a psych ward. When i got certified as a psych tech and began working the bins, i found the psychology/psychiatry industry is the saddest, most perilous form of capitalism on earth. It's the only place where one's consciousness may be obliterated by idiots overnight. Keep those pills close to your gums and don't swallow. A dwarfish man walked up full of aguardiente and holiday cheer. I smiled back, but he continued to stand with his large feet nearly on mine. After a minute, I waved him along with a spoon and he reached out to grab and shake my hand. This is custom: a friendly local grasps and pumps a tourist's hand…and won't let go. The grasp of a jungle born and bred Amazonian is stronger than the Olympic champion wrestlers I've known. Then this man started waving his oversize palm in my face. I replied casually, 'If you don't continue down the sidewalk, I am going to rise and push you.' He edged in, hovered his hand over my plate and the hard-boiled egg rolled down the sidewalk instead. I grabbed his wrist rising simultaneously and twisted his arm behind his back. It requires two hands to pin it against his spine because their muscles are so strong the arm springs back. I wrapped him up like a Noel gift and marched him down the sidewalk toward a police substation. We ducked under a street vendor tarp knocking our heads on pots and pans before the man twisted his face around to mine and pleaded, 'Anything but the police!' for they would beat him. His body tautened in fear and the pinned arm popped out flinging me into the vine wall, as four swat team policemen hemmed us in. 'I was eating breakfast,' I explained, pointing to the squashed egg under my right shoe, 'and he wouldn't leave me alone. But it's Christmas, and everything is peaceful now.' They pushed him down the sidewalk, and that was his Christmas present. As a vet, I saw many animals who appeared to be healthy and suddenly 'kicked the bucket', and could only think that they were unaware of their illnesses which abetted the immune response… until it was too late. Having put dozens of animals down by injection, and held them caringly through the last gasp, the thought in their eyes isn't death but happiness and trust. I believe animals, especially younger ones and ones that haven't witnessed the death of peers, have no inkling of death. The animals died in my arms, and in the zoo or the wilds, thinking they were going to sleep. The same with disease, as they are dying until the illness reaches a point to incapacitate them physically, they will carry themselves well with a smile on their faces. We're all animals, some smarter than others, and in my case I can acknowledge complete death but decades ago chose to turn a blind eye to the misinformed conventions of treatment of illnesses. Most maladies are best treated by exercise rather than lounging in bed watching wide screen and texting until they pass. This approach has saved me thousands of hours in recovery from hundreds of times being down but not out, however it has worked the other way in at least three cases. I passed out once with malaria at the feet of a roaring lion. I collapsed while running on a San Diego beach with the second worst case of mononucleosis in the county history. And six months ago, I had the worst case of chronic anemia with half the normal hematocrit in the history of Iquitos, Peru. Music blared from a deserted French cantina on the Iquitos wharf as a handful of dogs surrounded me. They were like emaciated wolves smelling the chicken-to-go in my knapsack. A big white lunged for my waist that I socked in the jaw with a left hook. He alighted on his feet yelping and the rest bolted. But this was no ordinary pack. As the mongrels fled, an opportunist thug smashed the crown of my head from behind. Amazon wood is softer and the plank glanced off a round spot, as I wheeled. The little man was dumbstruck, as I grabbed his thick wrist in a wrestling hold, and twisted. A Peruvian in pain speaks the truth. This one snapped, 'Don't molest the dogs, my friends.' His intent was to rob me because there is no free wood and his cudgel was in hand. I twisted again, tugging him along, exclaiming, 'We're going to the police; drop the club.' It hit the street with a thud and he cried, 'My mother will spank me!' I yoked him into the lamplight and saw he was only a ragged urchin. 'Do you like dogs?' I asked. 'I live like one,' he replied. It is hard to find a dog lover these days, and so I let him go, knowing the next night he would protect me. Strategy: A Smorgasbord The right strategy must come to mind in the worst scenario – losing, tired, hometown ref, and nowhere else to turn but inside. 1. Always change a losing game; never change a winning game. 2. Always have a plan going into a match, and a backup plan. 3. Always have a surprise to pull out all the stops. 4. Reconnoiter your opponent before the match for his strengths and weaknesses. 5. Have a general strategy against all power players, and another against all control players. 6. Analyze every match – how would you play it differently next time. 7. Keep a log of your strategies, and of the opponents. 8. Always have a customized strategy against each opponent, if possible. 9. Call a timeout whenever you skip two straight shots, or the opponent runs three straight points. 10. Keep a coach in the crowd for a second opinion. 11. Have an offensive second serve, such as the jam or Z. 12. Save your upset serve, for example a crack ace, for game winning points. 13. Have a no-fail strategy that kicks in in the worst case scenario. 14. Define your strengths and weaknesses between tournaments, and drill the latter. 15. Set a goal, and time increments to achieve it. 16. Resist the norm – The way to the top is almost always a way no one else has tried. 17. Don't share your personal original strategies during your competitive career. 18. Find one edge against an opponent, or the field, and repeat it over and over. 19. Make your backhand as strong as your forehand. 20. Know the counters to all your strategies. 21. If an opponent throws something at you during a match that you can't handle, hit the same at him next point to know how to respond. 22. Use a slow game pace against a rabbit, and a fast pace against a sloth. 23. Always volley the ball when possible. 24. Always take the most aggressive shot possible during a rally. 25. Be able to hit five perfect consecutive ceiling balls as a fallback. 26. Match your physical attributes with your strategies, for example condition, age, grace. Elephant tusks cannot grow out of a dog's mouth. 27. Pick an overall strategy that is fun to play. 28. Strategy evolves on the sweaty hardwood, not in ivory towers, so think as you play practice matches. 29. Agree with your practice partner to pause after each game to dissect each other's play. 30. Ask every instructor or pro you meet for his best secret strategy. 31. Ask better players to critique your strategies. 32. The best place to glean strategic tidbits is by watching good players, or at a pro stop. 33. Unclutter the Clutter. Stop the mechanism. Have a sure-fire mantra or method to calm down instantly. 34. Develop a 'Muehleisen's Rheostat' at will of being able to crank up or down your intensity of play by 10%. 35. Fight first and save thoughts of victory for later. 36. The highest form of generalship is to conquer the gamesman by a stratagem. 37. At the beginner level a defensive strategy wins, but at an advanced level the most offensive strategy always wins. 38. Have one strategy for a slow ball and another for a fast ball. 39. The best general strategy is serve and shoot. 40. Go to the ceiling if the rival runs a string of points. 41. Go for the jugular with aces and cracks when you have momentum. 42. The shot to practice the most is the kill, because it's the only stepping stone. 43. The serve to practice the most is the drive, as it's the most forceful in an aggressive game. 44. Save your best strategy for the ripest time - pick the flower when it is ready to be picked. 45. When you go up to the mountain often, you will eventually encounter the tiger, so be ready. 46. During a reconnoiter find a tiny edge. A tiny is the best soldier that quickly becomes an army. 47. Strategy is about setting yourself apart from the competition: it's a matter of being different at what you do. 48. Always have a backup service strategy. 49. The greatest tactic is to be able to execute at the worst times. 50. To win by strategy is no less the role of a general. 51. Practice the weakest link in the chain of each of your last performances. 52. Have a short term goal and a long term goal at all times. 53. Use glass to your advantage with serves and shot selection. 54. Shot selection is the most common trait of a win, and flaw of a lose. 55. Have pre-designed strategies for every game style. 56. The greatest strategy is to commit no mental or physical errors in a match. 57. If you're losing a match, is it because your strategy is failing or because of faulty execution of strategy? 58. Use a new strategy a hundred times in practice before taking it to a tournament. 59. When in doubt grab the bull by the horns. 60. Nothing is more beautiful in sport than a well-conceived plan that's executed flawlessly against a superior opponent for a win. 61. Study strategy over the years to achieve the spirit of the warrior. Victor Niederhoffer writes: Good for any activity one thinks. 1. The first rule is always practice against someone your equal or better. Try never to break it. 2. The second rule is to handicap yourself if there is no equal. Some methods are: a) A point spot, or the opponent having to reach 15 before you get 100 points. b) Time odds, as in chess, where you may never stop moving even between points and receiving service. c) An implement disadvantage such as using a wood paddle against the racquet which automatically lowers the player one division. 3. For stamina, play simultaneous where one of a string of players enters the court after each point. If there are five players on the opposing 'team' you will get one-fifth their rest. 4. Play opposite handed - It's surprising what you'll learn about your correct hand game, and the handicap opens a new league of competitor until you are their champion. 5. Resistance training is the best method for any racquet, where resistance is weight. Add a few ounces of speaker wire braided around the frame, or wear ankle weights, or a weight vest with increasing increments of 5-40 pounds. Perhaps my greater contributions to racquetball were off the court during the golden era: blonde afro, customized van, beach running, headphones, Doberman pinchers, reading paperbacks, 10-speed bikes, and scuba. Once I started it lit a light in the Leach racquetball stable. Charlie Drake's beach garage was full of scuba gear for players to borrow. He, Steve Serot and I took scuba lessons together from a guy named Froggy. In our first lesson in the deep end of a swimming pool we were required to wear weight belts and tread water for 5 minutes, and then allow ourselves to sink to the bottom of the 12' pool where only a single tank of air was waiting. Serot and I were buddies for this drill, and he being a land mammal was in oxygen debt. I let him take the first grab of oxygen, but he was purple even in the water, and wouldn't give up the mouthpiece. Had I surfaced for air I would have failed the test and certification. Finally, I wrestled the mouthpiece from him and got a gulp of air. In the second lesson the next day we were required to clear a swim mask full of water. The technique is to tilt the head back and lift the mask a quarter-inch from the face and expel through the nose to displace the water. This is done underwater. Serot kept lifting the mask 6 inches from his face and trying to expel the entire swimming pool. All's well that ends well, and we all got certified and went on a diving trip to Catalina Island where I was confronted 60' underwater by a black bullet that I thought was an attacking shark, and pulled my 6'' diving knife. But when it stopped and peered in my facemask it was a sea lion that let me pet its nose. It did a summersault, wiggled its whiskers, and zoomed off. While walking through 25' tall grass in the jungle, I was put in mind of Sisyphus. I prefer a dry definition of work such as physics offers of a change in vertical distance, however Greek mythology offers an artful description. Sisyphus was punished for deceitfulness by being compelled to roll an immense boulder up a hill, only to watch it roll back down, and to repeat this action. There are four types of Sisyphus work that I am familiar with, despite never having deceived anyone. 1. Digging a hole and filling it in. This was popular in poorly planned Michigan construction. Another example is the vet school instruction to spay Toms, and after the abdominal incision finding nothing to pull out. This type of activity is characterized by your work creating more. 2. Raking leaves in autumn. This is activity with immediate replacement of what was removed. It's worthless except for the workout. 3. Weeding a garden. The replacement item returns at a constant rate over time. 4. Shoveling snow. It is difficult to forecast when the work will be available again. As for the jungle grass, the best is coming out again into the sunshine. One beauty of chess is that it crosses all barriers. Financier George Soros called me Hobo one sunny afternoon at his Southampton home where we split chess games, each winning with white. I discovered he had studied philosophy, and that philosophers quickly adjourn to hermetic strategies across the board. Chess engraved on the brain doesn't seem to leave. This is especially true after one practices chess in sports during motion. The only flaw of the greatest board game in history is that the board doesn't have feet. My jogging partner Bob Baldori and I invented aerobic chess on a Michigan track one day with a point man running a few steps ahead wearing a T-shirt magic-marked on the back with a chessboard and pieces in the starting position. This made it easier to visualize the moves as we ran four miles, and the FIDE should silkscreen these shirts for physical fitness. However, the grandmasters might require silk screened tuxedos for befitting parties. The last one I played against in a speculator's Connecticut home was Arthur Bisguier who with white gave rook odds and gazed between speed moves out the window as if reading a comic book while telling me his life story. He defeated a young Bobby Fischer and later served as second to Fischer at many international events. He won three US Open Chess Championships (1950, 1956, 1959), and played multiple-game blindfold exhibitions. He was taught chess at the age of four by his father, a mathematician, and kindly never practiced multiplication tables during our match. He thought it terrible, and was pleasantly merciless, that I had disgraced my father while reading funny books in beating him at chess. After the match, Arthur dropped me off at an Appalachian trailhead near his home, and I took chess onto the trail in hiking the 500-mile Vermont trail, 500-mile Florida trail, 500-mile Colorado trail through the Rockies, the Pacific Crest trail for 1000 miles along the Sierras, the 1000-mile length of Baja, 1000 miles through the Amazon rainforest, and the length of Death Valley. I never would have survived without the lessons from chess. I started paddleball at Michigan State University, switched to handball, and then when rumors of a professional tour and the first racquet arrived in 1970 at MSU, racquetball was the only game. I had never hit a single anything before enrolling at Michigan State. The first time I walked into the Intramural Building a pivotal mentor swayed me. I heard the crack of ball on wood and looked down into those concrete pits and saw a purple ball– my specialty– any kind of ball, really. They had zoomed at me in the past in all sizes and shapes on house lawns, corner lots, the streets or parks. The player down on the Challenge Court wore sunglasses under the bright ceiling lights. He carried a dozen purple balls around and around the court in a motorcycle helmet. Leaning in and watching, someone in the gallery complimented that he was Al Moradian, blinded by his own brilliance, the perennial campus champion. After watching him drop-and-hit, drop-and-hit for a few months, and with quite a bit of practice, one year later I stepped into his tennis shoes as the perennial paddleball champion. The reason is I earned a backhand that Al didn't own. After watching him on the challenge court, I rented from the sports cage a flimsy plastic paddle that flexed like a flyswatter… and practiced. Paddleball suited me because one could sequester in a downstairs court for hours and hit balls, and the shots came back without chasing them off the four walls. Moreover, I discovered that the amount of initial practice directly related to improvement, and flattened out but was effectual. My theory of sports is to practice the weakness, not the strength, and to let the field try to secret their imperfections with various strategies. Beside practice, the backhand arrived for two other reasons. I took class notes in longhand, as computers were nonexistent, and the flow of the pen across the page from left to right was cross-training. And, I became arm strong and ambidextrous from rectal palpations of hundreds of cows to determine their states of estrus. I became the Intramural champion at paddleball, racquetball and handball, and in doubles in all three sports. They gave an official green MSU windbreaker for every championship, and in a couple of years I had a closetful. The year after racquetball arrived, the house I was living in burned down and the jackets melted. This was fortunate because studies in Veterinary school were getting tough, and because I never wore jackets even in winter, but bartered them for dates with the Michigan farm girls. Now with a backhand, books, and no girls, my grades and game improved. After graduation, I took a west turn out of university for the west coast and became one of the first pro players, and the first with racquet and apparel contracts. I simultaneously entered and won satellite pro events right-handed and open division left-handed. The primary reason was a backhand that became the Golden Era of Racquetball's best, according to the fans and magazines. It enabled me, whereas it was the flaw of nearly every player at universities and YMCA's across the country, and, because of racquetball, at private clubs in the court club boom. From a lifetime in various sports, there have always been four stages to test any new act for the proven repertoire. 1. Does the new thing work in solo drill? 2. Does it weather practice games? 3. Does it withstand great fatigue? 4. Does it carry through tournament stress? Thus, any new thing to be added to your sports show is not proven until it wins a tournament. At that point, you may relax and continue to use it to success. Only about 1 in 10 of my early new tricks withstood the rigors to become a sweet spot of my game. Sweet, because any simple new thing added to a standard act usually makes a dramatic change in performance. Most of my survival techniques are self-taught on the spot. Once while hiking at 12k' in the Sierra Nevadas with winter coming on, I had to find a way to sleep at night without a sleeping pad. The frozen ground conducted my body heat into the earth and I couldn't fall asleep. After a few hours of trying various positions, I fell into a sleeping tripod in which the knees and right elbow were the only contact points, and of course the toes. Nearly all of the body weight was on the former three, and since the knees and elbow are calloused, little heat was lost and I slept comfortably for many nights before coming out to civilization. I later learned that tripod sleeping is standard among nomad Tibetans who also use the right elbow as one may turn the head away from the heart. I remembered that today in the hot Amazon on a vast crisp-dried floodplain carpeted with one species of dark green leafed one foot plants that absorbs heat. I was sleepy from earlier drinking river water, and there was no shade. The ground was so hot it burnt my skin through the clothes. The solution was the tripod sleeping and I awoke an hour later able to continue to shade and the river. The photo of the ice cream salesman has a story behind it. When I took the pic I thought the universal 'hands up' gesture odd until reflection on where I had just come from. Tinga Maria, Peru, on the Amazon River far from civilization doesn't see many gringos, so when I arrived it was as though I was a king. The steamer would have a couple hour layover, so I asked a three-wheel taxi to take me to meet a girl. Any girl, for it had been a long journey. He dropped me at the entrance of a 10' concrete walled enclosure. The door was closed, but the ice cream salesman was near. He explained that since the sun was only half past noon to sundown, the bordello didn't open for a few hours, however the inner guard knew his knock. He tapped a code on the large wooden door, the guard opened, the salesman explained the situation, and I was ushered in. Few working girls had arrived, but a handful were sleeping in their individual rooms lining the inner perimeter of the compound. The salesman pounded on one door, it cracked open, and a girl strong armed me through into a small cubical lit by a single candle. There was romance and conversation as I discovered she was a good student in business at the university and was doing this to pay for her tuition. Later, I paid her $4, and before leaving reached to shake her hand. She giggled shyly and held up a stub in the candlelight amputated at the elbow. She, like many others, had been a farmer and bitten on the hand by a venomous snake, and choose to cut off the arm in the field rather than die. The ice cream salesman was waiting outside the compound, and I thanked him and paid a dollar for this photo, and hence the hands up. I first heard it at an LAX airport strike that had thousands of asking passengers scurrying desk to desk to escape the hive. The strike was an honorable test, not the horror everyone thought. Among them, an athletic man in a tailored suit patiently glided, to avoid the long lines, from employee to employee, to inquire of the carriers to NYC. At first, I thought he was following me until he asked, 'Are you following me?' Whenever I encounter a person who of my habit steps out from the crowd, I am surely charmed. He was a Wall Street trader with a sports car, doll wife, spoke Japanese… and was about to pivot in life. We ended up traveling together on one of the last flights from the airport and, on arrival at Kennedy, he agreed to accompany me to a friend's trading room. He bowed at the neck only on introduction to the president, and murmured, 'Charmed, I'm sure.' Then he went on to prove his capacity for trading and Japanese in conversation, and that indeed he had had a tryout as halfback for the NY Jets on the traders' field. He had returned to his NY glory to pull the plug – quit the job, divorce the wife, sold the car, and gave up football in order to return to the west coast to write his version of the great American novel. A month later, he was caught and imprisoned for bank robbery of the San Diego Wells Fargo when the police followed a trail of witness fingers out the bank door, checked the trash bins en route, and pulled out his discarded sailor disguise and, of course, traced the DNA from the false beard to nab him. The charmer spent the next few years in prison playing football and writing. Charmed, I'm sure is used in either formal or street introductions with nearly opposite meanings. Among the well-heeled it's a warm greeting used in ceremonial introductions. Among the down-at-the-heels by one individual to another the meaning is that they don't trust you entirely yet, and if you screw up once, there's no chance of getting anything out of the deal. As the years rolled by, and I jumped from fashionable sidewalks to the gutter, and back again, I've tuned into occasions that deserve the term. In sparring with a karate instructor for policemen, he suddenly stopped after what I thought was a missed kick and asked, 'Would you like to see that again?' I laughed thinking the kick had missed, but on looking down his toe marks over my heart covered my white T-shirt. Charmed, I'm sure, he slapped my face while my chin was down. My first girlfriend stopped after the first five minutes of my first sex to explain, 'No, it goes there. Charmed, I'm sure. In racquetball at a St. Louis pro stop, I wound up to take a backhand off the back wall and hit a killshot 40' away on the front wall. As I executed the shot, my opponent Ben Colton stood hands on hips in front court without attempting to cover the ball. 'This is for the money,' I scolded, 'Play ball!' He replied that it was his only opportunity to study my famous backup up close, and that it was worth losing the point because the ball would roll off anyhow. He was better than he thought, and lost the game by one point. Yesterday, an Australian nipper dog bit me in midstride on the shoe instep from behind. It was such an expert move that I stood for moments in awe, and then understood it had dry gulched me, and would do it again. So I squirt mace in its teeth. In the same manner, once hiking the Pacific Crest Trail I nearly picked up a 10-inch long baby green Mojave rattlesnake because it was so perfectly colored and buzzed its tail pleasantly. And then was jolted to realize I was charmed, I'm sure. In daily encounters you will see the foam head on a glass of beer, and take that instant to ask, am I charmed, I'm sure? I’m not a fighter or a lover but these happen to be two of the four methods used in handling at least 100 street fights over the years. 90% of them have occurred in third world countries, but the techniques are as effective on the Bombay waterfront as NY Harlem. These are the four primary reactions available to normal citizens who go about their days and are suddenly confronted. FIGHT – The general reaction to fight requires knowing how to or, at least, facing a weaker opponent (unlikely). The first rule of street fights is to grab an equalizer, a stick, bottle or rock. Don’t bluff a fight without expecting to be called on it. To illustrate, a month ago after a night snack a man stepped under a lamplight and began screaming obscenities at me. Normally I would walk away from this, especially since there was no robbery attempt, however there were children nearby and it would have set a poor example. So, I handed my ankle weights and backpack to the kids, and stalked the man out the light who backpedaled and stumbled into a heap. It was as if a wind blew. Two weeks later, I was assaulted with a ring-neck tackle by a stevedore and had to fight on the street of Iquitos. Luckily, he fell into a familiar wrestling move and was beaten. FLEE – The best practice is to have the fleetest feet around the world, assuming no guns are involved. It doesn’t matter how many thugs there are, if you can sidestep or outrun them it’s usually the best practice.The other afternoon on exiting a house of soiled doves, I was then surrounded by four young men with theft on their mind. I pulled off the end of my thumb with sleight of hand, and walked out the astonished circle. A few nights ago on exiting the cinema, two dirty men popped out an alcove as if from a movie in heavy jackets with hands in their pockets on a 95F evening. I sidestepped them into the street where they didn’t follow. It’s always a good idea at night to walk away from sidewalk alcoves and into streetlights. TALK – 80% of my confrontations end after a few words. Most solo thugs dread conversation with a grammatician. Yesterday I was attacked by three youths brandishing sticks on the Rio Amazon beach, and simply growled at them, ‘You don’t want to do that,’ and they left. The night before, a man with a butterknife closed in as I entered my hostel, and I stuck my hand in my pocket and stood steadily at arm´s length and replied, ‘Are you ready?’ It was a gamble he didn’t risk knowing what, if anything, was in my pocket. (In this case, Mace.) A single question had prevailed. HOPE – Most victims stand mute and shocked when accosted by a thug. This is what every mugger bets on, so if you can have mentally rehearsed and kick into one of the foregoing three methods –Fight, Flee, or Talk - your chances of escaping unscathed with your wallet are high. I’ve acquiesced a few times when ‘outgunned and outnumbered’. In one instance in Venezuela two men thrust warning jabs with machetes in my ribs and legs, and I just asked them to leave me bus fare. Another time, in a boxcar I let two tattooed men rob me of little as they motioned toward the open boxcar door of the 40mph train that the option was to jump. After they took my billfold, I gave them cucumber & tomato sandwiches and we became more friendly. They gave back my shoes that had my bankroll under the insoles. My personal methods in fights are the same as animal surgery, to begin with the most conservative and escalate to the most extreme. One knows in a sentence if talking is going to work, probably not. I never use hope. I flee 2 of 3 times even if I think I can overwhelm the opponent because fighting is dangerous in high numbers. However, on every third situation I hold ground and fend off or attack in order to maintain a mental and muscle memory for the struggle. You don’t have to be Captain America to have a straight backbone. One of the best things you or your youngster can do is to take a martial art class to gain confidence. The best are wrestling and Aikido. In any case, the four fighting methods of Fight, Flee, Talk, or Hope are the same. And, as my old wrestling coach used to say, mentally rehearse the move a hundred times before you try it on the mat, and then a thousand times on the mat before you take it to a tournament. A fight is just another day at a tournament. The Shipibo are an indigenous people of the Amazon rainforest who live in the 21st century while keeping one foot in the past millennia. Many traditions are still practiced such as ayahuasca shamanism, and the females in their colorful decorative clothing singing old songs are popular shamans at the Iquitos lodges. Your body is a planet. So where is the ego? 90% of the cells within us are not ours but microbes. Likely in the Amazon the figure is closer to 99%. The rest of the lives in you are seen with a light microscope: the human skin is not a desert but covered with microbes, many others thrive within our mouth, dental streptococcus, the nose is a rainforest, the intestines an oases, mites nestle in the eyelashes, a few of the fleet host athlete's feet fungus, viruses loiter inside nerves, the lawn you mow on your head is enjoyed by flea or lice, and the strangest are the hoboesque pieces of DNA that infected ancient humans and still make up about 8 percent of our genome. Even the body cells such as leucocytes, sperm, eggs, heart muscle, autonomic neurons, and photoreceptor cone cells of the eye may be classified as harmonious bugs. Do microbes have consciousnesses? Certainly, though they are rudimentary, more like what we evolved from before stepping out of the trees onto solid earth. The human eye without a microscope can only see objects larger than one-tenth of a millimeter long. Given the right conditions, you might be able to see a human egg. Gazing down at those tiny objects, you stand on the edge of a world of creatures invisible to the naked eye. Inside this strange land microbes live their tiny day to day lives – wake up, eat, communicate, move, and respond. Over the billions of years on this planet these microbes have adapted to fit their environments. They are remarkably diverse organisms living in fresh and salt water, on land, in the air, and on or inside other organisms. As you read the microbes march, there are mutualisms, parasitisms, battle lines are being drawn, and help is on the way from every direction. No wonder we have collective unconsciousness. Living with all these microbes in people is easy if you maintain health, a positive attitude, keep busy, strive a little each day, and opt to be kind. The last census shows about 100 trillion inside you. We are composed of multiple individuals many of whom alertly believe they are selves. This is why I could never understand conceit. It's nice to stick in the pocket the theory that each is an individual, however my definition of self includes the legions I'm made of. Is so hard to grasp that you are the ringmaster of a circus? The self is especially as distinct from the world and other selves. It is the conscious that most immediately controls thought and behavior, and is most in touch with external reality. However, I believe myself is composed of micro-selves that must be dealt with by logic, whip, barter and trial-and-error. This flies in the face of the psychological definition of self, religious and political views, however if you invest in a microscope and look, it must be admitted that… The next time you pull on your shoes realize you are a walking ecosystem. Capitalism lessons are costing me a quarter a day. One week ago, a little boy with a hangdog expression sat next to his father lemonade vendor wishing he had something to do. He was sorting leaves on his knees to sizes to pass time. I bought a lemonade, and asked the child the cost for a leaf. 'A quarter,' he countered brightly, as his father looked on amused. The following day he was waiting, though the time of my walk varies by three hours. He had created a vendor's table from a 3' plank on the ground with a wider assortment of leaves. I bought another for 25 cents. This is out on a jungle path where pigs wallow, hens with 27 chicks cluck, everyone has bare feet, sleeping dogs lie, no electric, ice or running water, a body eats on six-bits a day, fingernails and lawns are cut by machete, a piece of material has value, and there are no beggars. The third day, three vendors with three boards offering new varieties. I bought one shaped like a maple leaf from a new kid, claiming I couldn't afford more. The fourth day a strange thing happened. There were five venders between the age of 6-9 years, and one was a girl who was scrubbing her leaves with a brush and water. I bought a clean one. The fifth day, the vendors had learned to balance the planks like trays on their palms and carry them aside me until I bought one. The sixth day repeated, as the market seemed saturated with kids and innovations. Today, after I bought a freshly scrubbed mango leaf, a señora rushed up and whispered in my ear, 'You know the leaves are worthless. It's just a child's game.' 'Nonsense,' I answered. The child's game is capitalism. Who knows what tomorrow may bring? They may become the most successful vendors in the village with the capitalistic habits that work is rewarded, the best product sells, wait patiently and the customer arrives, curiosity, innovation, a healthy balance of intellectual and emotional quotient, an even-keeled mind, split-second decision making, the ability to handle uncertainty, loss and success, adaptability, and there are no prerequisites. I find surprising things unbelievable until I can find a mechanism to explain them. In this case, my idea is that people who must be surrounded by noise to think are always above a steady state. They must run their thinking mechanism 24/7 (including dreaming at night) or lose consciousness. Hence their minds have 'forgotten' how to return to silence, and I fear this carries into death. The proof in chess is Bobby Fischer who hated to play noisy chess, while most of his opponents played better with it, as he beat them. The metaphor in nature is the strangling fig tree that supports the host tree until the former dies and falls, leaving just the fig. Many studies also show that people, at least in the US, are unable to be alone with their thoughts. They freak out without their phones, tvs, radios, computers, etc to constantly distract themselves. So they never have the time to process what they already know about stuff and happiness. All the while being bombarded by the opposite message, that stuff does bring happiness, from the media that they can't turn off. While the Dow climbed 16 points today, an old man pulled out a wood stool, as he has at 9am for thirty years, hoisted a handcrafted umbrella, stuck a two-foot plank on his lap, and gestured to the first customer. I stepped forward with a pair of jogging shoes to resole, and as he worked explained that in USA it's cheaper to buy a new pair than to get these underhauled. A barefoot señora holding a pair of sandals clicked her tongue, and stuck a finger in a rip in my shirt as I read today's news. The cobbler finished my repair in thirty minutes, and offered the shirt off his back – my size – which was a bargain since it saved me a trip down to crime infested Belen for a used one. The señora quickly sewed the rip in my shirt, as the man fixed her sandals. Then she conjured a shirt out her purse like a rabbit, and handed it to the cobbler for the repaired sandals. I paid $3 for the shoe repair, $2 for the shirt, and the señora offered a massage at her room across the street. It cost $4, and I walked out lightly on new shoes with a newspaper under my arm that the cobbler had thrown in to sweeten the one stop shopping. The further from civilization the odder the adventure, and the most distant town from any civilization in the world is Iquitos, Peru. A trio of adventures, like vitamins, in the past three days include: Three days ago, on my walk around Progresso Island on the other side of the Rio Amazon, I heard a whistle that was unlike any bird sounded in a hundred walks during the previous five years. A barefoot man in a policeman shirt waved me down along the jungle path. He ordered, 'Halt!' and I replied, 'What for?' and continued walking as he followed blowing. My rule is never stand with a policeman without a witness. I know about 400 of the 500 poor inhabitants on this Island,, and stopped in 100 meters in the shade under the thatched hut of a señora whose children I teach English. She vouched for me as an eccentric exercising tourist, as I advanced. The whistle blew in five minutes in my ear, and I ducked into the house of a family whom I buy warm sodas from on hotter days. They introduced the shoeless man as the island Mayor, who visits every few months, and so I gave him a chance to talk. 'There are some bad fellows on the Island to beware of,' he warned, to which I scoffed, 'I know all the people and none is bad, and YOU are the only person who has molested me. I may run against you in the reelection.' Without batting an eye, the Mayor smiled, pumped my hand, and raised my arm shouting, El Americano!' He just wanted the citizens to see him as important. Yesterday, in the city of Iquitos, I flagged down a policeman wearing a white shirt and white holster from his motorcycle. 'Will you help me?' I asked, and he listened patiently in the bustling Mercado Modelo as I described how a few days earlier a señora vendor had sprinted from behind her pile of oranges and beaten me on the chest with her fists, and it was too high to reach, so she had whacked me repeatedly with a broomstick. She had shortchanged me the day before, so I had taken a pitcher with an inch of orange juice to search for a policeman. Not finding one, I was now returning the pitcher, and asked the officer to accompany me for protection. When we reached the orange juice stand minutes later, the señora started out with the broom again, caught the policeman's eye, and retreated behind the oranges. The Tourist Police are a specific body of the National Police trained to protect, serve and orient the tourists. He asked for her side of the story, but when she omitted the assault, it was her word against mine. I produced a typed Spanish copy of exactly what had occurred. She shrank behind the pile of oranges, and he asked if I wanted to make a denunciation, which is a shameful thing to happen in Peru. I declined, saying I just wanted to be able to pass safely through the market, and he gave me his calling card to ensure it. The third thing happened late last night. I rarely dream, and have no memory of a single one in over a year. However, I've been chased by many dogs recently that must have been working on my unconscious. I woke up in the middle of the night in the act of kicking a snarling dog, and kicked hard the concrete wall next to my bed. My big toe is broken. No big deal, and today will be another adventure. I'm making plans to go into my own business after next year's travels. Specifically, a more turnkey business that will give me free time. Like a corner store. If you had $100k to $300k in cash… what business would you get into? The goal is something that is stable, not subject to trends or fads and that operates itself as much as possible. I think the approach should be to pick the location, and then the type of business. I learned this from swap meets. Next, make it something you would do for free, or nearly so, like as a hobby. Invest VERY little initially–get the tiniest toe wet because the rest can follow. This is another definition of business patience. If the type of business is unique and can't be copied, all the better. If it may be franchised down the line, the better still. The choice of business should be something nearly everyone wants that nearly no one else may supply. (If others might imitate, then plan to get in quick, get out quick with a profit, and a smile). Whatever the business, it seems bright on day one; and whatever the profit, it will grow dull on day 1000. So, don't put much into inventory and be sure you can step out on a 24 hour notice. Never take a free drink or any freebie from anyone. 90% of us get up each morning and go to work. It's the same down here in the Amazon except work is closer to the earth and water. On my morning walk I encountered a Senora laying fishnets in a lagoon, and paused to ask how long it would take for a catch. 'Return in seven hours,' she replied. I did, as she was yanking fish caught by the gills and fins from the 25 meter net line, on soda bottle floats, laid close to shore and nearly touching the muddy bottom of the lagoon. Her husband was off weeding their acre yucca garden on higher ground. She carried only one equipment aside the net, a 10 gallon basket that the day's catch filled with fifty fish of 7-22" length from about ten species. The largest looked like a tiger with fins that she said was doomed for ceviche, a Peruvian recipe for raw fish marinated in citrus juice where the juice coagulates the fish proteins, effectively cooking it. I wanted to follow it to the supper table. She tossed the gulping fish into the basket, saying it had been a good day, and I helped lug it a kilometer to the dime motorized canoe taxi that departs hourly for a ten minute putt to the Modelo Market of Iquitos. Then we took turns balancing the 40 lb. basket on our heads up 100 steps to the marketplace to look for a spot. Another fish vendor invited the senora adjacent onto the sidewalk, eyeing the catch that wouldn't compete with her own while drawing more customers, and my companion threw a rice sack to claim a sidewalk square. The market bustles in late afternoon selling everything under the sun. She started cutting off the sharp dorsal fin of each fish that picks the customers' hands as they smell and fondle them for freshness, but we had been followed by anxious buyers wanting first grabs, and a couple sales were made before the rice sack and blood hit the pavement. Then sales were brisk for ten minutes, until the excitement of the new 'fish' on the block dissolved, and she happily jingled the change in her apron. The big ceviche fish went for $8, the nearly two-dimensional spineless Palmetto delicacy for $4, and the remainder at $1-2 each. She will sell the batch over the next two days, at a lesser price tomorrow since it won't be put on ice overnight, and on the third day will sell them for peanuts to the salty fish vendor down the sidewalk who'll slice, salt and sell them for the next two weeks. Her take for the batch is about $50 which is a windfall. I got so hungry watching the direct marketing that I went out for a fish dinner, now knowing that they're marked up 20% by the street table merchants and 200% by the finer restaurants. The introduction of a new cultural trait may take generations in a society before it takes hold. The variables include the necessity of the trait, the size and degree of interaction of the population, geophysical barriers, and susceptibility. As an experiment, three months ago I made the first wave of greeting on a one-mile diameter island in the Amazon River. There are four little pueblos of about 200 inhabitants each living on stilted huts that I passed by or under during my daily hikes. Apparently, it was the first time any had seen a hand wave, for all of every age to the last person stared back with puzzled looks. They included farmers, a few dirt floor businessmen, schoolchildren, and entire families at the rate of about fifty people a day. For the first month of daily hikes, there was zero response and I was like a cloud passing by. Then I began assisting the wave with a hearty 'Buenos dais´, and the recipients all replied, 'Buenos dais´, without a wave. However, in about another month the first wave returned from some children who appeared like puppies discovering their tails for the first time, and not knowing what to make of them while they wiggled. The waves propagated exponentially by imitation of seeing others until three months into the experiment nearly every person I waved to – without the verbal greeting – waved back. Now the island is flooded with them. Do they wave to each other? – I haven´t seen it. However, today 25 out of the 30 people I waved at responded in same, and about a third of them initiated the gesture. The conclusion is a cultural trait has been instilled in three months. I imagine it will be passed to future generations and last for as long as the happy people do. Today at 1pm on the Iquitos skid road a señora returned change with a bottled water, warning, 'It's Sunday and the streets are crawling with thieves who are brave from booze while the police are on holiday.' I walked out the store and immediately a body piled onto my back with an iron arm around my throat like a noose. I rolled with the tackle and Texas necktie to keep my neck from snapping. We fell in a heap to the ground, and his face was behind my ear hyperventilating beer exhaust. In that moment I knew without seeing that he was about 5'6'', 160 lbs., a stevedore, clean, no aftershave, and stupid. I owe my father's childhood training in judo and wrestling to react the instant I was touched. We were on the ground where I gain strength like Antaeus, and knew an escape from the headlock. It's to simultaneous tuck the chin and jam the heel of the hand up against the elbow of the lock. I know the nerve I hit well from double tennis elbow. His forearm lifted from my throat like a drawbridge. We scrambled at once to our feet, and he fled. I couldn't follow with ankle weights and a broken toe. I cleaned the blood with bottled water and walked on into the daylight. The Cinema of Iquitos at one minute's walk along Calle Arica from the church corner of Plaza de Armas has deep roots that reach back to the rubber boom. With the arrival of foreigners, along with the evolution of the United States cinema in Hollywood, the Cinema in Iquitos showed its first film in 1900. It was show in the famous Casa de Fierro, the House of Steel now catty-corner from the present day theater, with an Edison machine. The projector used a carbide lamp that required the constant movement of the operator. Due to the prominence of cinema in Iquitos, pioneers of filmmaking produced here including Antonio Wong Rengifo, Werner Herzog, Armando Godoy, and Dorian Moris. They prolonged the cinematic presence in the city that built today's theater where last night I viewed the horrid 'Dawn of the Planet of the Apes'. Although the movie could better have been acted by apes and chimpanzees, today's Iquitos Cinema meets American standards. With a few flaws. The pluses in reviewing this theater begin with the four large screen theaters, with comfortable seating and effective air conditioning. You walk in with a bushel of popcorn and it could be Manhattan. The negatives are the interruption of the joy of the better films by cell calls, a continual flash of phone text screen among the audience, and the viewers – many of whose initial view of the world outside Iquitos is the silver screen (English Subtitles) - laugh, ooh & aah, or scream in terror at exactly the opposite moments that an American audience will. The string of films I've watched testing my sanity over the past fifteen years are new action thrillers and demonic massacres. Going to the Iquitos Cinema is like a trip deep into deep Amazonia with inexhaustible eye-witness quivers, except it's not a five meter anaconda but the person's legs in the seat behind that drape your shoulders if you slouch invisibly. The staff is very friendly, and the owner diplomatic, but all are equally ineffective in enforcing their own rules about feet on chairs and use of cellphones. The food is excellent, but pricey upwards of USA fees for drinks and snacks. The place is a din from a game arcade that one must pass through to buy tickets. I've shelled out increasing prices since 1999 that started at 3 Soles (about a buck) and last night ran 10 Soles. The films are supposed to freshen each Thursday, but the likelihood is that a popular film, such as the present 'Transformers' will be held over for a month. There are about five daily showings of the normal venue of four different films, but arrive before the posted start time or the ticket seller will claim the seats are filled until you issue a bribe. Through the Rubber Boom and its inevitable regress, on rolls the cinema. The crisis hit Iquitos hard and had its effect on the industry, but the play of Charlie Chaplin and new films did not stop. A movie theater in any city of the world is an economic indicator, and in Iquitos more so as even in depressed times it shows that a person will put a fantasy in front of his face before bread on the table. Birds of a feather flock together includes people and dogs. Today a young Utah tourist, part of a new American wave to strike paydirt at the ayahuasca mecca of the world in Iquitos, Peru, was surrounded by four grimy youths flashing knives at his breast and throat. The scene was at Gang Corner where I've been attacked on each seven previous nights at the same hour. My assaults have not been by uprights, but by dogs dressed in the local people's clothes, with snapping canines in the yellow lamplights. The Salt Lake man had just stepped out the tenth annual International Shaman's Conference at a ritzy hotel at 11pm and walked a hundred steps to Gang Corner, on the fashionable Rio Amazon malecon, when the knives flashed. The waterfront Belen youths surrounded and demanded his knapsack, knowing it contained the tourist's valuables of camera, laptop and maybe a few dollars. They would be surprised to discover the victim's U.S. passport. Why hadn't I been robbed at the same corner at the same time by the same two-legs gang? Perhaps the snapping circle of dogs each night dissuaded them, but more likely they knew the exact hour the Shaman's conference dismissed and lay in wait for the first unsuspecting tourist. Having a passport stolen presents a Catch-22 of needing to prove one's identity to a U.S. Consulate, and coughing up a hundred bucks without credit cards that usually accompany the theft, as well as paying for two weeks hotel in wait (unless a harsh expedite fee is paid). Since the nearest embassy is in Lima, the Salt Lake man went to the airport today in hopes of boarding without identification, and then 'throwing his feet' in Lima on the Consulate's doorstep. Fat chance. This poor man's misfortune was my stroke of luck, and I took the tip to the police station. I must find an equalizer. This is because I must walk past Dog Corner nightly from the last day's activity here at the Cyber internet to my hotel. The sycophantic policemen urged me to take matters into my own hands by purchasing a $20 mace spray that shoots a 15' stream like a squirtgun that will 'stop a charging beast'. They instructed to aim for the chest, not into the wind much like a urination, and the spray will splatter and dispense temporarily blinding and inducing respiratory distress. The recipe is tear gas and peppermint. Then, they smiled, bring the predators turned prey to the cop shop and they'd beat them for a song. So, I got the mace. An equalizer is required whenever a smaller person faces a larger, or armed, or group of thugs. During twenty years of world travel I have never carried a weapon for two primary reasons: it ups the blood ante of any altercation, and it cancels the mental rehearsal of the manly art of self-defense. My former equalizers have been fast shoes and quicker hands, with a swifter tongue. However, now I required something more concrete at Gang Corner. The ordinary doorstop on skidrow hotels is a baseball bat, in Manhattan the world squash champ used to jog through Central Park at midnight brandishing a squash racket, I would prefer an oversized modern racquetball racquet for the lighter swing weight, on the rails the standard is a 7" railroad spike, but now the answer was protective spray. I can take it in checked luggage to USA where it's also legal, yet in California the net weight must not exceed 2.5 ounces. A squirt reaches twice as far as an arm and knife. The reason for my concern is that if I get stabbed it would be more hapless than the Salt Lake tourist. The protocol is that the foreigner is taken to a hospital, he is patched, but not allowed to stay if he cannot afford the bill, and on leaving is met by the immigration police to check documents and explain why a tourist can't afford a hospital stay. I couldn't pay it because of a defaulted loan before this trip to a former acquaintance. The mace is an insurance policy tonight, as I venture out to Gang Corner. Ralph Vince writes: Weapons & Women…. I like the idea of a mace-style spray like that. First off, regardless of whatever anyone thinks they are capable of in terms of defending themselves, one thing is for certain, when there is more than one assailant – and absolutely when there are more than two — you need a weapon (personally, I carry at least two anywhere, depending on the local laws as well as the context. A genteel dinner party is different than a late-night, city walk. Everyone should carry at least two, non-redundant weapons). One of the main concern with any weapon is its range. A rifle ught be good at 100 yards or longer, a handgun from 40 feet on in. A knife, only out to about arms length (but deadly in that range). Some weapons have to be swung (bats, tire irons, batons, etc.) meaning they have to be moved in a plane – get outside that plane and you're safe, and the plane is almost always primarily vertical or horizontal, and with a very finite range. Not only is the far extent of that plane finite, in close it is of no use. So an aluminum bat might look very imposing, but sternum-to-sternum, it's quite useless as well. The sooner you can get sternum-to-sternum, or out of the plane of that thing, the sooner you can stuff them with it or be high-tailing it away (In fact, any of these swinging-style weapons are a poor choice becuse they are plane-restricted, have a finite range in both directions, have to be chambered, etc. They do not hide well, and you can usually be quite certain any loogan carrying such a weapon has only THAT weapon. When you see the guy on walk with the golf club to fend of a loose dog, you can be quite certain he is, for all intents-and-purposes, unarmed). Spray, is like a gun the the sense that it's range is beyond the reach of your assailants arms and legs, and works sternum-to-sternum, and hides well. It's a nice weapon provided you have something else you can get to from any practically any position.(I onceu asked a postman, with sun-cragged skin from too many years of Florida delivery, if he ever had to defend himself against vicious dogs with the can of mace at his side. He mentioned how it works well against bees in the mailbox, and vicious dogs but that you "Gotta get it right in their eyes." Maybe spraying the chest works with people but I'm not so sure about dogs!) As we get a little older, even though we may think otherwise, we ar arme a LOT slower than a young person, andwith far less wind than a young person. The best young person fighter can perhaps take on two at once — someone older, beyond more than one assailant, you absolutely must have a weapon to have a chance. In other words, when you know you are going to be accosted by more than one person, make up your mind that they are going to be needing an ambulance here. It's SO much easier when you really WANT to hurt someone in those situations. The most important thing to remember when being confronted by more than one assailant is that nobody really wants to be harmed. You want to plant in their mind that there's a chance things may not go right. Put some doubt in their mind that they may not get away without harm. The only reason people do bad things is they think they're going to get away with it and not be harmed. So how do you do this? They are reading your body language. They are checking you out to see if you can defend yourself — specifically, to see if you're tuned in to what is happening and if there's a reasonable chance you might hurt them. So don't look to intimidate, and don't get all huffy & puffy. Make eye contact (You are not making eye contact, per se, but rather looking at their sternum. Solid eye contact is a challenge and you are not in as good a position to "see," specifically their lead foot which will always, ALWAYS move at you when the go to grab or strike you) with your potential enemies, in a non-emotional manner. Marion's remark is very wise. Just as I take the incandescent light for granted and the flush toilet, so too do Western women very often (because we are accustomed to) take their individual safety for granted in an historical context. We have come to assume that is how things are when in fact, this is reltively new in human existence, and hasn't yet reached many parts of the world. When you're with a woman in a bad situation, bad people are MORE likely to come after you (a woman with you is akin to your being a wounded animal in the wild — it is viewd as an impediment to your being able to effectively defend yourself). You have to be more prepared, more ready to hurt people who are a threat in those situations. A woman who is armed has at least a chance of inflicting harm and getting away if unaccompanied. The best situation, is to be accompanied and armed as well — Bo's idea of mace is a great weapon in the battery of weapons someone ought to have. Marion Dreyfus writes: When I was traveling solo in Peru, I frequently chafed at having to stay in after dark if I did not have a bunch of fellows to go out with, since I never usually call it a day until it is very very late, especially when I am a-traveling. One time high in the hills, I asked a few men I vaguely knew if they would accompany me out for a late look around the town. All were tired and did not want to risk a strange place at night. One woman thought us silly, trying to find compadres for the walk. An attractive 20-something, she took her backpack on her back and left for her own town investigation. She returned in an hour, a wreck, crying hysterically, her clothes a mess, her hair disarrayed, dirty and unconsolable: She had been accosted by 3 or 4 men, her backpack was taken, her passport and all her money was gone, and she was fortunate she kicked up enough of a fight not to be raped. She spent the next days desperately trying to get her passport replaced, not doing anything else in Peru. I was glad that I had not ventured out alone that night. Later in the week, I rose very early and flagged a small cab, directing him to go further up the mountain. I wanted to check on a statue that someone had pointed out to me, one he said had been given by muslims to the town in gratitude for something or other in the early 1940s. We went to the statue, 6 am, as the sun was rising, and I studied the plaque at the foot of the statue, though it revealed little that was of use to me. I reboarded the same taxi and returned to the hotel/inn, before most people had even risen for breakfast. But traveling in such places, if I am not with several men, I do not venture out. All well and good to be a tough and adventure-seeking female, but the rest of the world does not necessarily appreciate our independence: They read a female alone as an opportunity for free money, free unbidden sex, and free harassment fun. Or worse. One of the reasons I canceled my trip alone to Yemen, where women have simply disappeared if they did not travel in a dense group. Subtract 200 from 2014, add a little steam, and you're thrown into present day Amazonia. Today I spoke during a 50-cent canoe taxi ride from Iquitos city shore to shore of Prospero Island about life on an amazon farm that is an American success story. Prospero Island is two miles in diameter – half as big six months ago – at 4 steamy degrees south of the equator. The Isle has a natural irrigation system from the dripping rainforest and an inimitable fertilization system with a seasonal 35 feet vertical drop in water level. Hence, we would land twenty minutes later on the Island when it is nearly its smallest, and richest, for the 500 farmers. Aboard the 30' pecapeca (motorized canoe) taxi, I spoke with Señora Verde, and penetrated her chocolate eyes, because I always liked gardening. I slept as an infant in a hand-paw dug flowerbed depression with a Basset like it was a cradle, once as a tyke my mother told me if I kept digging in the potato patch I'd reach China and I tried till eight feet, as a teen weeded the neighbors' shrubbery for free, in university only Farmhouse Fraternity rushed me, and I actually ended up living now in a 10' hole in the ground (with a trailer pushed in) like a savvy mammal of the Sonora desert. I would not say I found God, nor would I admit missing him. By the time our canoe taxi reached the outlying island, I knew enough to tell you how to become an Amazon farmer. It begins with a machete. When John Denver sang that 'Life on the farm is kinda lay back…' he was daydreaming. In the Amazon, the machete replaces the shovel; a wheelbarrow in lieu of tractor; and canoe to market in place of a truck. The overhead amounts to the cost of the seeds. When it comes time to fertilize, following three annual crops, the river rises ten vertical meters, laps over the land and covers the family's two hectares (five acres) with one meter of water. Five months later, the water blanket evaporates, leaving an inch or so of rich black deposit from the Amazon River. The food quality down here in the jungle tropics is due to the soil, and water, from days of travel and hundreds of miles upriver at the base of the Andes Range, and its snow melt. It's a fascinating balance. Ayn Rand, who loved a good farmer in Anthem, wrote 'The fields are black and ploughed, and they lie like a great fan before us, with their furrows gathered in some hand beyond the sky, spreading forth from that hand, opening wide apart as they come toward us, like black pleats that sparkle with thin, green spangles.' This better describes the four Verde children with brushed hair, sun dried clothes, and river polished shoes, rather than the muddy shore the taxi bumped in the traditional Amazon docking to hit and stick. Señora Verde boasted rising, 'I made the children with my husband to work the farm, because that's what life is about.' The kids, three boys, a youngest sister, and all aged 4-10, beamed until the calluses on their hands and feet nearly popped. The leading strategy of American farming, and worldwide, is crop rotation or changing plants in succession on the same land to preserve the productive capacity of the soil. For example, the rich, clay loam of the Black Hills of South Dakota resembles the banks around us on the Rio Amazon where it's slippery to hike but if you fall the mouthful of dirt tastes okay. The primary crop in the Black Hills is corn, which is especially demanding for soil nutrients, and not everything does well after an encore of corn. Although corn taxes the soil, if potatoes follow, they leave it fairly unhindered. Potatoes and squash, being both big leafy plants, back-to-back serve as cleaning crops to reduce weed pressure, in preparation for beans in the next rotation. Beans are fantastic nitrogen fixers, which prepare the earth for corn again. They are called the 'Four Brothers'; they sustain each other. However, this earth chess isn't played down on the Amazon farms. Señora Verde plants corn, then corn, and a third crop of corn. The initial yield's the biggest (10¨ long x 2¨ diameter), the sweetest, and most plentiful. The second crop is still good, and the third poorer. Then rises the Amazon River during the five month 'fertilization season' when the soil is totally refreshed. And it's organic. Millions of families throughout the Amazon sit in their huts like frogs throughout the five month high water, and this has made them a patient, verbal society. As the water rises from the snowmelt from December through April the island diameter shrinks 50%, which in land area is like turning a XL pizza into a small. Up comes the river slapping at the ladders to the hut platforms on 8' stilts. The kids no longer walk to school, which is also raised on 8' pilings, but canoe there. For the past two years, the water change has been 40 vertical feet and flowing into their living rooms, so they smile and paddle in the front door to the supper table, or bed, where belongings are heaped for a couple months until the ebb. Virtually everyone on the island admits to an amphibian's insight, and enjoys the dry season more. There are two types of farms on the Isle: group owned, which is shared, and individual or family owned. She prefers their independent farm in trying to explain an individuality that when her corn is ripe today, mine may be tomorrow, but she doesn't want to labor both days for us. She teaches her children not to depend upon the debt nor gratitude of others. Sow, the family labors alone. And so, the ultimate goal of farming is not the growing of crops, but the cultivation and perfection of human beings. Now, the old family farm of the Verdes is popping up the cash crop and the children have corn kernels in place of missing teeth in their smiles. They say still they enjoy the taste of it after pulling hundreds of thousands of ears in their short lifetimes. Harvest is the most joyful part of farming around the globe, but in the Amazon it's achieved differently. The corn is plucked and stuck into rice bags the size of pillow cases that, when full, weigh about 20 pounds each. These are loaded from the field into a wheelbarrow and carted a quarter-mile to the family motorized canoe, which carries the harvest two miles across the strait to the Iquitos Mercado Productores. This rambling shoreside market reminds me of the first supermarket that supposedly appeared on the American landscape in 1946. Until then, where was all the food? It was in gardens, homes, local fields, and forests, cellars and pantries, and on the tables. Now, with markets, one may specialize in something outside agriculture, while remembering the most important product is produce. Each Verde crop of approximately 1000 sacks sells for $5 each, so thrice yearly the family nets $5,000 for a royal total, almost pure profit, of $15,000 per annum. The Señora grins that theirs is the richest, because they are the hardest working, family on the Isle. Then she admits that she toils during the hot, dry season that she may afford to make more babies during the stilted high water who will grow into workers. They spend the profit on clothes, school books, and an extended family. None of the other families work as hard as the Verdes, she claims, and right now her husband is weeding in the field with the sole farm tool, a 3' machete, while many of the rest are drinking the local aguardiente alcohol. She describes farming as a progression of hope, and with two index fingers rising in parallel points at a direct proportion between how hard one works and the standard of living. Many of the other families jump out of Aesop's Fable of the Grasshopper and Ants who sing through the planting season, and watch their ribs stick further and further out during the high water, as opposed to fewer Ant families like the Verdes who never want. A farm is a manipulative creation. The maker is responsible, from start to finish, for the thing made. There is no such thing as finished. Work comes in a stream and has breaks, but has no end. Things must be done now and not later. The threat the farm gets on you, that keeps you running from furrow to furrow, is this: do it now. It's time to get you a pair of overalls. Pecking order is a hierarchical system of social organization that originally referred to the dominance in chickens, like those that run the yards at my Sand Valley neighbors. Power in chickens is asserted by various behaviors, including pecking, but in other animals by tooth and claw, while humans use lingo, gloves, shivs, and money. The ultimate function of a pecking order, as reported from the ivory towers, is to increase the individual or inclusive fitness of the animals involved in its formation. Closer to the truth, in the wilds, fighting to acquire resources such as food, water and mates is expensive in terms of energy and the risk of injury, and by developing a pecking order animals determine which individuals get priority access to resources, particularly when they are limited. The order isn't as neat as a deck of cards, graceful as a statistical curve, exacting as a Marine roster, or accurate as a mafia hit system, however it's seen in every walk of life. Today, while walking the jungle trail around the Island of Iquitos on crutches, I fell upon two men sparring their roosters 'with the gloves on'. Each bird wore ping pong balls on the razor spurs, and a 6" segment of plastic tube that ran from the top to bottom beaks, thus dulling every strike. The animals fought bitterly without blood in an instinct for pecking order for three five minute rounds – the equivalent of about eight rounds of professional boxing – before being put to rest in the shade of a stilted hut. They looked like scuba chickens with regulators and floats, reminding me of when I was chicken to enter the oceanic job market that would include stints as a gardener, babysitter, construction, factory, shop, playground supervisor, cleaning kennels, veterinarian, hobo guide, landlord, author, publisher, teacher, security, professional athlete, coach, technical analyst, psych tech, old folks counselor, and swap meets. 'Money is the way we keep score at work,' told a one-lunged semi-pro quarterback and swap meet mogul. This is the attitude I've carried into each job, and that there must be more to work than money. You should consider jobs that you would do without a love for money, and let that score be secondary. This is possible in America, but less so among the masses of billions around the world. However, once you make enough money to buy the necessities and are able to focus on the luxuries, then the 'Pecking order of Finance' comes into play. This defines the capital structure of an entrepreneur or company, and how it makes financial decisions. The basic idea is that businesses will tend to take the course of least resistance in seeking their financial sources, taking first from the sources that are most readily available, and then steadily moving to sources that may be more difficult to utilize. If you have ever watched a Peruvian crowd observe a weakened bird pecked to death in the wilds, or a dog among a pack, fish in a feeding frenzy, or cannibals around the spit in the Upper Amazon, it quickly becomes evident that they think differently than the reader. Why are they mesmerized? It's a death rehearsal for each observer, and he leaves the scene as if rising from a psychiatrist's couch and greatly relieved that the burdens of his life will end so effortlessly. And, I clomped from the rooster fight with gloves, leaving stabs in the mud like dropped coconuts, to circle the island. I'm working out to recover from the worst case of anemia in jungle history, and yesterday was a bit dizzy in the steamy humidity and fell bruising a knee. The rental crutches should be pitched tomorrow to resume the normal mend. I hipped past the 800 lb. grandest pig of the island that grunted at the new look, and by a giant turkey that surpasses Guinness Book of Records for the biggest tom at 86 pounds that charged me like a Rottweiler with wings puffing its breast feathers and fanning its tail. But a 'Rule of Thumb' of pecking order is that if one individual sees the other is larger, faster, or more determined, he will back off. Previously, I hadn't had this problem with the animals, and believe they sensed a weakness. Near the end of the two-mile perimeter hike the trail is trimmed to widen to enter a fifty shanty town on whose fringe a pack of about 15 dogs attacked me like buzzards after intestines. They were of innumerable breeds and varying size, barking 'Gringo!' Two wooden canines flashed unexpectedly and caught two of the curs in the chops, that sent the rest of them off yelping, as is the gang way. The establishment of the dominance hierarchy reduces conflict and is a sort of account. I was the top chicken on the island today, and shall get the royal treatment tomorrow. I feel like a Spanish conquistador on a small scale. My past vanquishes from seven trips to Peru include malaria, elephantitis, amoebic dysentery, hepatitis, and last year three fly larva with sprouting wings crawled beneath the skin looking for a way out. Once any disease is identified, the treatment is straightforward and efficacious, as with these. Each ailment, if one is able to study and feel it in progress, is an honor with a merit badge of antibodies or sash of resistance. I was ready for the next exotic disease. However, I got blindsided yesterday with the diagnosis of chronic anemia from a worm infestation I had pined for since veterinary school out yonder in the Michigan countryside on call at the barnyards (our offices). There the extracurricular dogs, wasted and grown so thin they were shadows of dogs, except with hanging pot bellies, were dosed with worm medicine before we went on to the big jobs of treating the cows and horses. I grew fascinated with intestinal parasites but had no idea that the chronic anemia the suckers caused could nearly kill a person. Anemia is a decrease in the number of red blood cells or less than the normal quantity of hemoglobin in the blood. Hemoglobin is a main part of red blood cells and binds oxygen. If you have too few red blood cells, or your hemoglobin is low, the cells in your body will not get enough oxygen. Breathing is like drawing air out of a paper bag. The name is derived from Ancient Greek ἀναιμία anaimia, meaning 'bloodlessness'. Because hemoglobin (found inside RBCs) carries oxygen from the lungs to the capillaries to every cell of the body, anemia leads to hypoxia (lack of oxygen) with varying degrees of anemia fostering a wide range of clinical consequences. Anemia is the most common blood condition in the U.S. affecting about 3.5 million Americans, while the 2014 issue of Blood magazine for medical practitioners reported that the global anemia prevalence in 2010 was 33% or 2.3 billion people. Chronic is a condition that persists and has been present for at least three months. I'm certain my anemia was contracted nine months ago In Peru when I was unable for one month to escape the delivery boat of a demented captain far up the Rio Tigre and ate and hobnobbed with a string of villagers where hookworms are indigenous and zoonotic among their runt animals that made my earlier Michigan barnyard dogs and cats look like champions of show. In collecting evidence on a medical subject there are three fronts: observation of the client, his history (more difficult for animal patients), and laboratory reports. My Peruvian doctor said I was as white as a ghost, and then began the history. A physician who takes a good history and a patient who gives one nearly always and quickly solve any mystery that we call illness. I learned the first rule is to take the history chronologically, and the pieces of the puzzle fall together into a diagnosis before the mercury is shaken down into the thermometer. Then he gasped as my lab reports popped up on his computer monitor. 'You'll be a very sick man if you're alive one month from now without treatment.' My hemoglobin is 6.3 gm/dl while the adult male's normal range is 14-18 gm/dl. In the laboratory test hemoglobin (Hb) is measured as total hemoglobin and the result is expressed as the amount of hemoglobin in grams (gm) per deciliter (dl) of whole blood, a deciliter being 100 milliliters. My hematocrit by volume is 22% whereas the norm in males is 40-50%. Hematocrit is the ratio of red blood cells expressed as a percentage by volume of the blood. It can be said that I'm existing on less than half the oxygen of what the normal reader is. The lab report supports my suspicion for the past two months that I am hypoxic; however I thought it due to a heart or lung condition and estimated the reduction of available oxygen at 30%. Unless you have been there, it is hard to explain how a desert dweller develops a skin like a coyote nose that detects water at a distance, and how an athlete who has jogged eight miles a day for twenty years owns a palpable cellular sensation for the presence, or absence, of oxygen. The three symptoms for the past two months have been dizziness, fatigue, and shortness of breath. To climb a flight of stairs has created the same oxygen debt as fifteen minutes of wind sprints with the similar inclination to keel over. Twice I've lost consciousness during uphill walks with the faint echo of the inspirational lyrics from The Impossible Dream, 'To try when your arms are too weary…to reach the unreachable star'. I could never have imagined that a legion of vampire worms could cause such hypoxia to deprive an adequate oxygen supply and cause a near death experience. There have been a half-dozen instances when I felt I could 'will' myself to die as the old folks in homes that I used to do volunteer work at claimed was possible, and in Indian circles. It's a floating, paradoxical REM sleep. A person may die when, scientifically speaking, he ought to have lived if he is in an almost heaven. Yet, each time as consciousness drained like a liquid from lack oxygen in the brain, a spark ignited alertness perhaps due to old timers urgings such as 'This ain't a dress rehearsal, Sonny', and 'Get out and milk life dry.' My nemesis is Uncinaria, a large family of hookworms that infects man and dogs, with frequent zoonotic transmission between them. These hookworms are present throughout the world, and especially in warmer climates. In the United States, hookworms are found everywhere and commonly along the East. Worldwide, zoonotic hookworms are found in tropical and subtropical regions where the parasite is better able to survive in the tropical conditions. Their mecca is the Amazon where they grow three times as large as anywhere else in the world to 1.5 inches. These nematodes are slender beasts with bent heads like a hook for leverage of a hammer claw and a mouth with cutting plates and an inner single pair of teeth to bury deep in the intestinal mucosa to gnaw through the walls to the capillaries. All hookworms suck blood, and the Amazon variety are capable of removing 0.2mls of blood per worm, per 24 hour period. They are in competition with themselves for space and blood along the walls like bickering tenants in a skid row hotel, or old revolvers in newly opened mining districts so that when they do want RBCs, they want them badly. Dogs have been known to carry thousands of worms in their intestines, and I suppose given the chronic anemia that I may harbor as many. The Uncinaria were positively identified yesterday in a microscope slide report at an Iquitos clinic that was tardy relative to the other results which had provided a clean bill of health. The lab report didn't quantify the infestation beyond 'heavy', and was supported by a greatly elevated eosinophil count of 27% (eosinophils usual account for less than 7% of circulating leukocytes) which makes it a textbook case of parasitosis, according to my Peruvian doctor who has seen several as severe. The patient has two sleeves, one containing a diagnosis and the other a therapy. The diagnostic lab is my favorite area to place the first sleeve, and in vet school I worked six illuminating months as a budding medical Sherlock Holmes, as we all were, diagnosing diseases by a battery of tests – blood, fecal and a few others. The laboratory spun with tubes and slid with slides like a rock concert. The medical lab is the bastion of the fight against disease where the etiology of each is identified by the tests. Sometimes the lab reports weigh as much as the emaciated patients, so much the better. Reading them is exactly like perusing an Ellery Queen mystery such as The French Powder or The Dutch Shoe mystery and solving for the crime before the last page is turned. (By the way, Ellery Queen is both a fictional character and pseudonym used by two cousins from New York.) The laboratory is a palace of probability that few pathogens can sneak by undetected, and once fingered they stand little chance of survival. 'This is Good Medicine!' I cheered the doctor, on the way out the door, and he understood that modern medicine had diagnosed and would conquer another microscopic army that had tried too hard to infest a human body. If more smartly evolved, the worms would have allowed me to remain asymptomatic while sucking me dry instead of my plan to load for bear to kill them and then taking the advice of the oldsters to suck life dry. Hippocrates advised, 'The physician must be able to tell the antecedents, know the present, and foretell the future — must mediate these things, and have two special objects in view with regard to disease, namely, to do good or to do no harm.' That is exactly what this seasoned tropical doctor did, and I walked out his office on lighter feet. He was a general physician, and It must be understood that no one can be a good physician who does not perform surgical operations. There is as great a difference between a physician and surgeon as between a mechanic who has learned from texts and one who has lifted hoods and had his hands in the muck. Never settle for a doctor or specialist who is not also a surgeon. Even in middle age he seems astonished at being paid for doing something as enjoyable as solving daily medical mysteries and curing. Wherever the art of medicine is loved, there is a love of humanity. The doctor proposes that my severe condition, which he's seen in villagers that have a 20% incidence of hookworms, requires no blood transfusion. In the USA, in contrast, a severe anemia is defined as hemoglobin of 8.0 or less with symptoms present and is considered life threatening and prompt treatment is required. In U.S. my case would probably be met with a blood transfusion, which currently is controversial with a circulating slogan 'Anemic patients should know they have the right to speak up for a transfusion.' However, I've seen thousands of potbellied people and pups around the world looking more bedraggled than I, and don't worry a bit about the diagnosis. The anemia is a blessing, but a change, and requires a moment in the thick of the crisis to check the flow and redirect the focus. After the diagnosis comes the treatment, as he penned two prescriptions in striking calligraphy: Albendazole and Confer. The former is a broad-spectrum anti-helminthic for roundworms, hookworms, threadworm, whipworm, pinworm, flukes, and other parasites that works by killing the worms straight out from the blood. It doesn't taste badly to me and I suspect something is added to intoxicate the toothy heisters. This really is war, with my life at stake, and theirs. Despite their sophisticated mouthparts, and a nervous system that may also deliver an almost heavenly state of consciousness, these bloodsuckers have no excretory organs and no circulatory system, that is neither a heart nor blood vessels. I'm not a pill Frankenstein tampering with nature, but there are many bull's-eye synthetic and natural medicines that are literal miracles that I will take, and otherwise would be dead a few times over if having lived in the time of Tarzan a century ago. Albendazole is an efficacious one. It is commonly prescribed worldwide, and particularly in USA for zoonotic infections. It's on the World Health Organization's List of Essential Medicines, a tally of the most important medications needed in a basic health system. In 2013, GlaxoSmithKline, the principal international marketer of the drug, donated 763 million Albendazole tablets for the treatment and prevention of parasitic infections in developing countries such as Peru, bringing the total to over 4 billion tablets donated since 1998. Closer to home, since 2010, and for understandable reason, the U.S. price of Albendazole has increased by 4000% to over US$100 per 200-mg tablet. Disease is the biggest money maker in our economy. I paid 20 cents a tablet yesterday for my two-tab a day supply for one week totaling about $3. In addition, I filled a prescription for an oral iron supplement called Confer. Unlike salt licks, you may not find the nearest igneous outcrop and expect to lick usable iron. Because iron is the principal component of hemoglobin, consuming a supplement and iron-rich foods will raise your hemoglobin levels. Dietary iron must be attached to either animal meat or plant tissue to be absorbed by our intestines, and the supplement probably contains both. I've also started eating iron rich seafood, red meat, and leafy green vegetables. The doctor assures that my 6.3 hematocrit will increase two units per month so that in four months I'll reach the low norm, a triumph as complete as Operation Detachment in the Battle of Iwo Jima. But I also have my own ideas about disease recovery to cure. Walking is first rate medicine and is my first thought to accelerate the doctor's prescriptions. Healing is a biological process and there are few ailments that do not respond immediately and expansively to the increased circulation of a vigorous walk. Walk in increasing increments with escalating weight to let the clean air blow the cobwebs from your body. In the aftermath, there's money in the bank to cover the cost of the trip to Peru and lots of salads and seafood. The medical expenses totaled $US200. In the USA it would have cost twenty times that, with additional superfluous tests and requisite specialists, and taken weeks instead of two days. One well-trained physician of the highest type will do more for a patient than ten specialists because everything medical within the body is interrelated and cannot be separated. A Darwinian view of medicine makes disease more meaningful. Diseases arise ultimately from past natural selection. It's a continual war within one's lifetime, and over the centuries, of the forces of pathogens vs. the soldiers of the immune system. They evolve after each skirmish, and then counter-evolve like in Mad magazine's wordless black comic strip 'Spy vs. Spy'. Paradoxically, the same capacities that make us vulnerable to disease often confer benefits. The capacity for suffering in itself is a useful defense After all, nothing in medicine makes sense except in the light of evolution. Nature didn't find the perfect place to hide the little assassins in my gut; but rather the Uncinaria developed through epochs of struggle and earned their position. Now they have revealed themselves and will die. Perhaps a few during the Albendazole fusillade – one in 10,000 - will adapt, survive, and reproduce resistant pathogens. Such is life. Through hard traveling and having contracted and beaten a string of diseases that remain like untied knots the emotions have been, 'I love you. I hate you. I like you. I think you're a loser. I think you're wonderful. I don't want to be with you. I want to be with you. You should have believed me.' Health and disease, unlike what you may have been taught in middle school Health Science 101, are the same thing – vital actions intended to preserve, maintain and protect the body. There is no more reason for celebrating health than disease. After vet school my body became like an aquarium to me and I always carry a fishing pole to catch and squeeze every ounce of information I can out of each condition. I´ve had and recovered from nearly 33% of the ailments listed in the physician´s bible called the Merck Manual only to conclude that life is so short to learn so long a craft as disease cure. In a subsequent medical text of alternative cures that I wrote, a certain pleasure is revealed that came from nudging the ill layman in the direction of terror, and bringing him back safely and happily and licking his wound. It´s too bad, but given the conventional medical wisdom that's the sort of paradigm shift required to accept like a Third Worlder that disease is a normal course of life. We don´t have to get as sick nor as often in the First World, but our attitude can become saner by accepting rather than fleeing in dread from the knock of unfavorable conditions at the door. If you 'listen' to your body and intuition, they'll guide you well through sickness and into better conquering forthcoming illnesses and old age. You´ll gain wisdom about anatomy, physiology, biology and the mind. There are countless ways to develop the listening skills such as sports, dancing or drumming, but most of all by awareness through disease, while keeping a journal. Read about it in texts. It's more interesting to examine an ailment in onset, flow, and remission than it is gazing at virus Facebook. The public bladder about medicine is that one must see a specialist and get a battery of tests when actually as much and almost instantly for free can be gleaned from recovered peers at an online chat forum for specific ailments. Such a well-chosen anthology of case histories is a complete dispensary, as well as studying the progress of one´s own conditions. Always pick a physician who is older, seasoned, a surgeon, preferable a sports medicine practitioner, and lord help you if he is busy. The profits will follow a good physician to the grave, but he is more difficult to find nowadays in USA, and all the more reason to seek professional treatment at a fraction the cost in other countries. Perhaps this is the only solution to whip the ill American health care system back to health. As for Global Anemia, already the dead worms are evacuating, and I say, 'I tried to tell you. You said you didn't care, remember?' Today we fight. Tomorrow we fight. The day after, we fight. And this disease plans on whipping us, but if we have paid close enough attention they had better bring a sack lunch for the extra innings. Victor Niederhoffer writes: A rather heroic friend I have. Marion Dreyfus writes: One of the most useful posts I have read. I am sending it to a friend who has been battling Pneumonia contracted while she was in Paris, and had collapsed lungs and hypoxia when she was admitted to Roosevelt for a week. Thanks for troubling to write all this down, Bo. She is now completing her regimen of O2, and can begin to ambulate again like a regular person again. Bo Keely writes: In any respiratory distress the first line of defense is a simple technique few doctors will prescribe. One must have lived in the North where pipes freeze to think of it. It´s loosely wrapping a towel or scarf around the neck & knotting it while sleeping all the night. This heats the air going down the trachea and into all parts of resp system. It cuts healing time by half and prevention is about the same 50%. Tested and proven by Michiganers. The other thing she should do that even the best doctors may not suggest is during recovery, when able, she should be walking or bicycling to keep things moving inside the body which promotes healing. June 27, 2014 | Leave a Comment I went to Puerto Maldonado, Peru in the Amazon to evaluate Haitians traffic into Brazil and was stymied by a planned gas crisis. I'm sitting in a 30' riverboat at the town's ghost port fishing information about the Haitians from the captain, a tour guide, lovely senorita in a halter top, and an observant five-month Tamarin Pocket Monkey (Saguinus fuscicollis) that resembles a squirrel with a human head and a golden mane of a lion. The keen boy is one pound of Olympic gymnast with a prehensile tail, and quickly opens my hardcover of L. Ron Hubbard's worthy The Problems of Work to chapter one and hides between the pages. I tweak its tail, and he makes a face before diving into a subsequent chapter, and so on through the book. The little wiggle is ADD from sipping the guide's soda and captain's beer, as well as eating anything sweet you hand it. Finally, he exits the book and scampers to perch on the captain's shoulder as he describes the human smuggling. "Ha!" exclaims the skipper, as the others nod in agreement. "Don't believe what you read about the Haitians. There is zero in Puerto Maldonado, however for the past three years about fifty of the nice people go in transit daily through town and for 200km as the parrot flies to the frontier. It started when the earth shook…" In 2010, the catastrophic earthquake that crippled Haiti's economy sent a tsunami of refugees flying into Quito, Ecuador, a country known for its lax immigration policies, where daily they board buses and pass along National Geographic's Highway of Dreams up over the 15,000´ Andes, through rainforest Puerto Maldonado, and three hours more by coyote vans (to the tune of $1000 per refugee) to the border. Once in Brazil, the immigrants are welcomed to plenty of farm and town menial labor. The situation is a model of the daily flux of Latin illegals into USA. Last month the BBC said an estimated 5,600 immigrants have arrived in Brazil since 2011, however the articles I had read claimed tens of thousands have arrived with Brazil as the popular choice as Latin America's largest economy. Human smuggling has captivated me ever since I gave water five years ago to six comatose illegal Mexicans who had collapsed in the shade of my California trailer sucking barrel cactus for moisture after being abandoned on the adjacent Chocolate Mountain Bombing Range and wandering for two days in an 110F inferno and explosions. In years to come, I would bust the wind atop Mexican freight trains with hundreds of illegal Central Americans traveling through Mexico to the Promised Land USA. Americans know what changes the illegals have wrought in the Land of Liberty, and I expect to find in Puerto Maldonado even greater ones. US media coverage has portrayed the border town as overrun with thousands of refugees and, if true, the divergent gene pool of tall, dark, gregarious Haitians would in quick generations forever alter the Peruvian body frame, mindset, and jungle instinct. A yellow canary walks out the senorita's cleavage, and flutters to post on my foot. She grabs the bird onto her lap and raises eyebrows at me, as if it has been trained to fetch. Just then, a five-gallon container of gas arrives, and as the captain reaches for his wallet, he explodes, "The town has gas fever!" The guide explains, as the skipper decants the jug, "Puerto Maldonado is the only town in Peru that is on gas ration. The national government has declared our pueblo of 138,000 the largest consumer of petro in Peru, and a week ago issued ration cards. Each citizen is allowed five gallons per day, and the town economics has become complex." Five gallons is enough for a dweller who owns no vehicle, generator or trade, and yet other businesses would have come to a standstill had it not been for sharping gas. When one neighbor has no use for fuel, he fills his daily quota and sells it at a profit to another. For example, Puerto Maldonado is the starting point for visiting Peru's southeastern jungles of the Tambopata Reserve, or for departing to Brazil or Bolivia. However, the agencies are short to fuel their buses and boats, and so we have conversed for two steamy hours waiting for the jug. "Next week each ration card goes down to one gallon per day," moans the guide. "So today may be my last tour until the crisis is ironed out." "The fuel is being siphoned into Brazil," explains the senorita, petting her bird. The monkey races along the roof. The price of gas is $5 per gallon in Peru; however, across the border in Brazil's remote rainforest it demands nearly double that. "Forget the Haitians; we're in a state controlled gas war for our life and liberty," they insist. Fists slam the rail. "The common denominator of the Haitians and gas smuggling," yells the captain over the motor, "Is the corrupt National Police." They take bribes at the border to 'look the other way' as thousands of Haitians and tens of thousands of gallons of petro pour into Brazil. I tell them I want to jump ship, which is now putting along the Madre de Dios, to go to the border to see firsthand. "Don´t worry," assures the tour guide."There will be time for that after you see the 20' black caimans and 6' giant otters at the Tambopata Reserve." Tambopata National Reserve is a wildlife sanctuary in the Peruvian Amazon that brims with 165 species of trees, 103 species of mammals, 1300 of butterflies, 90 of amphibians, and 6500 of fish. From the first step into the reserve, my San Francisco Giant baseball cap is covered with butterflies that the guide theorizes is due to my flower shirt, as they alight on no one else. However, I smell like the only member who doesn't use cologne, perfume or aftershave. A 8" black tarantula, that the guide identifies as a Chicken Tarantula with a reputation for eating birds up to the size of domestic fowl, walks the opposite direction. When I put my hand down to let it cross, as with smaller species at my desert home, instead of crossing it goes around. Further on, we hop over a drive of black army ants a footprint wide and audible in their rustle. The yellow headed soldiers laboring under huge swinging mandibles are described in a short story that in my youth was first a terror and then a curious fascination. Leiningen vs. the Ants is set in the Brazil rainforest not far from here. The story centers on a scrappy plantation owner called Leningen who stubbornly refuses to abandon his plantation in the face of a seemingly unstoppable mass of army antes. My guide drops and picks up one by the abdomen, and asks, ´Would you like a demonstration of how the natives suture wounds?' Though there is no cut, I thrust a pinky with a joint crease that he lets the angry ant bite, and, urging through my spiked pain, 'Wait - the ant would rather lose its head than let go,' he deftly twists off the body as the remaining head neatly staples the crease, and it has been worth the price of admission. At the end of the 90 minute hike through this mysterious land lays the principal attraction named Sandoval Lake which is an oxbow lake off the Madre de Dios. It was formed by a wide meander in the stream over the course of about 500 years that cut through the curve to abandon this mile-long crescent body of water. We paddle with two other tourists the circumference within a few feet of turtles, macaws, and two tribes of Squirrel and Howler monkeys, as fish jump aside the canoe. Philodendron epiphytes crown 30' palms dropping inch-thick roots to the water. When the guide identifies a dozen Cormorant cranes that sit as tamely on giant lilies as if this is Eden, I know I could revolution the fishing industry in the Amazon basin by introducing a technique I saw on Nature TV using trained Cormorants as 'lines'. The aquatic bird of the family Phalacrocoracidae in the Amazon has purple plumage, about two feet tall, and the usual long neck and body, with a hookbeak and throat pouch for holding fish. In China and Japan, Cormorant are famous for fishing on shallow rivers. Cormorant fishing is also an old tradition in Greece, England and France. To control the birds, the fishermen tie a cord neckerchief near the base of the bird's throat that prevents them from swallowing larger fish, which are held in their throats, while smaller fish go down the hatch. The fisherman paddles a canoe, much as we do now, except with a dozen Cormorants standing like tenpins, and when the fishing territory is reached the fisherman commands his fleet with a wave of the hand into the water where they dive and bring up fish. They are free to swim away but do not, instead returning to the canoe, the fisherman reaches down their throats and pulls out the larger fish, and rewards them with smaller ones. He may gauge the size of the day's catch by the tightness of the neckties. The strategy is not unlike the border I plan to visit tomorrow where the Peru Immigration and National Police make the human and gas smugglers cough up big bribes. Early the next morning, I board a hired car in Puerto Maldonado for the three hour ride with six others at the exurbanite price of $15 since the chauffeur has paid through the nose for scavenged gas. The national newspaper La Republica on the car dash confirms what I saw earlier that for the last three days drivers in the capital city have lined the streets with their vehicles waving ration cards, yelling for trades as if were a commodes pit, and wait and muscle in to buy miniscule amounts of fuel. The newspaper reports that of the 32 gas stations normally operating in town, only four are open and selling fuel. Vehicle movement along the jungle fringed highway is sparse and has slowed to a crawl due to the gas shortage. The driver doesn't question that I want to see the frontier town of Inapari, flanking both countries, and return the same day. However, when we arrive at the crossing that normally allows people to mingle within the town limit for 24 hours without officially exiting one or entering the other country, a lanky Peruvian National Policeman in the regular gold on black uniform yokes me into the small wooden immigration office. I'm ordered to a hard bench with a clear view out the door of the primitive crossing where a six-man force of National Policemen fleeces one after another Brazil bound 30' wood trucks with blue drums of gas piled in back. Brazil doesn't need the wood, of course, but requires the lower price fuel at the expense of Puerto Maldonado where garbage is piling in the streets because there is no fuel to send out the trucks for collection. The scene is as was described to me in the tour boat and by townspeople. Because the truck drivers are foreigners they are spared the ration cards and are free to buy as much fuel as desired. Each of trucks carries nearly a full tank of gas plus three 55-gallon drums for a total of about 200 gallons at a profit on the other side of $3 a gallon for a total per trip of $600. This is a fortune in the Amazon basin, enough for a man to start a family and new life. The locals say the planned gas crisis is not resolved because the National Police who are tied to the national government are taking a profit. A quirk is that Brazil is the world's second largest producer of ethanol fuel. Together, Brazil and the United States lead in the industrial production of ethanol fuel, for nearly 90% of the world´s production. Brazil has the world´s first sustainable biofuel economy and is the leader. The reason is millions of sprawling fields of sugarcane ethanol which is the most successful alternative fuel anywhere to date. In 2010, the U.S. EPA designated Brazilian sugarcane ethanol as the most advanced biofuel due to its 61% reduction of total life cycle greenhouse gas emissions, including direct and indirect emissions. However, Brazil needs the base petro to add their ethanol to, and it´s being siphoned from Puerto Maldonado. The leapfrog story of my pursuit of human and gas smuggling at the Peru–Brazil frontier ends surprisingly in a little bedroom off the hard bench. The National Policeman sees me staring through the window at the palmed bribes taken by his men, and utters, 'This border is like the Mexico–US border. Do you know what I mean?' 'Now I understand. I live thirty miles north of that border and have crossed hundreds of times. It is corrupt, with bribes taken for human and goods trafficking. Is that what you're saying?' It's the first time I've seen a Peruvian National Policeman shake in his boots. 'Go to the bedroom!´ he demands, and scuffs after. He motions me to sit on a bunk, one of two double-deckers jammed into the space where another corpulent National Policeman snores exhaling beer fumes. He starts awake, arises, approaches with a leer, and they strip search me, investigating every detail except for where the sun doesn´t shine. I must account for everything including where I got each coin in my pocket – in change at a café, grocery store… ´Aha!' shouts one, pulling my room key. ´Where did you get this?´ Meanwhile, through the bunkhouse window, a van of Haitians pauses at the crossing, the driver shakes hands with the National Policeman who smiles and looks away, and the load passes into Brazil where they´ll likely work the sugarcane fields. The National Policeman flicks through my passport searching for the week old visa entry stamp at the Lima airport. He riffles more slowly a second time, and then a third in exasperation bending each of the 52 pages of my new mint US passport. I would blame him for adding one year's wear in two minutes, except the document is a travesty of the US government. Since 2007, the State department has issued only biometric passports, which include RFID chips, and each page having a historic background print in blue of Americana scenes including the Mayflower, covered wagon, steam train, the Liberty Bell, Statue of Liberty, Mt. Rushmore, and so on through the now rumpled deck that is my passport. They are beautiful engravings but to accept a normal blue ink visa stamp on a blue background is like trying to read this black ink on a gray background. Finally, the official finds the nearly invisible visa stamp, grunts, and orders me out the building and back on the road again. June 26, 2014 | Leave a Comment There are Silverback gorillas in Uganda that I remember well from an encounter 15 years ago with a 500 lb. male and his harem of four females. I was told by my guide, armed with only a machete and fast feet, to avoid gazing into the eyes of the gorillas. That strategy has always seemed dumb to me with bears, big cats, hoodlums, and so forth, and so from five steps away I peered without animosity at the Silverback. He stood on hind legs with no shoulders to speak of and gazed back with yellow eyes as if it were a board game and he wanted to trade his harem for mine, four English lasses. The guide behind me got nervous, and started to thump his chest to show dominance as the gorilla pounded thunder out of his, and then ran up a branchless 20-meter palm and showered coconuts down on us. The trade was never made or the gene pool or Africa might have taken a turn. Below us stretches the Colton yard of San Bernardino. The Pepper Street Bridge shakes like a California earthquake as a mile-long Dirty Face snakes under and east from the Pacific to who knows where. That's one attraction of hoboing. We wheel and watch the red-blinking FRED at the end of the train disappear about midnight on May 30, 2014. 'The only sure thing about freight hopping is you know where you are, and not where you're going,' I advise 22 year-old MoJo, the strapping son of two journalists who is the political writer for the Mother Jones Washington DC branch. He fancies to get that far the hobo way, but there are no promises. 'The lights seem brighter than my previous time through three years ago, and the tracks twice as busy, with three times as much graffiti, and more colorful,' I wonder aloud. Below us, on the bridge embankment under a willow tree, four tramps including one female boisterously celebrate Horace Greeley's 'Go West, Young Man' and the hobo California dream where one may pick breakfast off an orange tree and sleep under the stars at night. Anxious to jump into a boxcar, rock-and-roll, and see what lays ahead, we trundle past the bos and into some Eucalyptus. Within fifty paces huff and puff three sets of locomotives heading up under the Pepper Street Bridge. We may choose: A mixed freight with three engines, an Intermodal container train with four locomotives, or a 'Dog' of assorted cars with two rust bucket engines that would side considerable and ditch us 'out on the farm'. We approach, the blast and clank of the yard cloaking out steps on ballast and the smell of diesel and oil camouflaging our nervous body odor from the RR police, or Bull. The ladder of a freight reaches to three feet above uneven right-of-way and we climb aboard a silver hopper down on its springs with cement for a softer ride and having the trimmings of a front and back 5'x8' porch with a portal of shoulder width that enters a hobo 'hotel room' in the superstructure of the car. MoJo crawls in to try it for size as much as to stay out of sight, as the crunch of ballast under heavy boot drops closer and closer. 'Gentlemen!' booms a baritone, as a yard worker grins up at us. 'You'll need this wherever you're bound.' He passes up a twelve pack of RR bottled water normally reserved for the engineers that you must not lose faith in humanity anywhere. 'This train is due to leave right after we get the F—king Rear End Device fixed, so lay low, good luck, and I never talked to you.' In minutes, the orderly process of a train departing a RR yard begins with the hiss of the Westinghouse brake line filling with air, an eerie electrical click in the same direction to test the connection, and, finally, highball! - two long blasts of the locomotive horn, with a staccato beat of couples stretching to our car, and the train leaps off the track for a second. We clear the Pepper Bridge and in three hundred yards roll over with a clank of Americana the Colton Crossing. Located directly south of Interstate 10, this great steel frog determines the fate of every train tramp who's ever caught out San Bernardino full of juice and hope. The junction is one of the most historic and busiest in the USA where the south-north BNSF rail strikes the west-east Union Pacific. It was the 1882 scene of a bloody war between the lines, but tonight moonlight peacefully streaks the rail as our BNSF train nudges north over the clatter-clatter of the joints and into the star-spangled night. The juxtaposition of Executives and Kings of the Road along the rails in American history is spectacular. Andrew Jackson was the first president on B&O in 1833 to ride the Iron Horse. President-elect Abraham Lincoln rode his famous Inaugural Train Journey in the winter of 1861 on NY Central trains from Springfield, Illinois in a trip that was considered full of potential dangers. Several Southern States had already withdrawn from the Union, and assassination attempts were possible. For these reasons, the train schedule was tightly controlled with stops as short as possible to coincide with service requirements of fuel and water for the steam locomotive from his hometown to the inauguration in Washington D.C. In Philadelphia Lincoln for first time learned of a plot on his life when his train was scheduled to pass through Baltimore. A hobo cloak and dagger train of events followed. Lincoln opted to smuggle aboard with the famous detective, Allan Pinkerton, through Baltimore and safely into Washington on a separate train that no one else knew about. While Pinkerton stood guard on the porch of the last train car all night Lincoln stayed just inside the last car in a lower booth, and was safely delivered disguised into Washington in the early morning for the Inauguration. Harry Truman in Plain Speaking makes no bones about his hobo roots: I was eighteen years old, and I'd just finished high school and knew I wasn't going to get to go to West Point. So I took this job as a timekeeper for Santa Fe RR)… There were about a hundred hoboes in each camp, and I got very well acquainted with them. My job was to keep tabs on them, to keep track of how much time they put in, and then I'd write out their paychecks for them. And they weren't bad fellows… Not in any way. Most of them had backgrounds that caused them to be hoboes. It was one of the best experiences that I ever had because that was when I began to understand who the underdog was and what he thought about the people who were the high hats. They felt just like I did about them. Some of those hoboes had better educations than the president of Ha-vud University. Meanwhile, rolling over the California salt flats, I explain to the Mother Jones political reporter that the principal tie between Executives and Kings of the road is their grass-is-greener view of the American Dream: The Executives whom I take out want the freedom of independent travel. The tattered Kings I ride with want money and power. There should be a Prince and Pauper Company to please both. The palm skyline of greater Barstow, California fills the horizon at sunrise. Our hopper is parcel of BNSF Railway, the second-largest railroad network in North America, second only to the great Union Pacific RR. BNSF has three transcontinental routes for high-speed links between the western and eastern United States, and we are riding the only southern link from the Pacific to the Mississippi River. It is safely said BNSF trains travel more rail miles and hobos than any other North American railroad. With a system of 24,000 miles of track, especially in the west, it hauls various commodities, most notably coal and grain, as well as intermodal (container and truck van) freight. The locomotive color is orange, black and dashes of yellow. The BNSF Barstow employs over 1000 workers and is a traditional hobo bottleneck. An unseasoned hobo is doomed to aimlessly walk and duck about the yard until he's ticketed for misdemeanor trespassing. I expect many spottings, but not to be collared. The Barstow yard is a major hub for transportation with a 'hump' for classification. Hobos speak of going 'over the hump' in Barstow in order to reach Los Angeles and the Bay area because except for through trains all of the incoming cars are re-sorted here. MoJo nearly jumps out of his overalls at the first crash of a car that has been backed up onto the 20' crest and the couple 'cut loose' so it becomes a 'silent roller' that rolls by gravity for up to a half mile from the hump track onto any of 48 classification tacks. We call this 'shuffling the deck' and it's better to watch than be in a car crashing at 8mph into its brethren string of cars. I was once thrown 15' in such a shuffle and wish never to repeat the experience. Once the cars are sorted into destination strings, locomotives are attached and on they move across America. Barstow is also the first crew change point on the BNSF for northeast bound trains. Crew change towns are as important to hobos as the old time water tanks where steam engines (that yielded to diesel-electric in the 50s) took on water and hobos. Now train riders board and debark at the crew change divisions that take place 'on the fly' where the crew literally steps on a slow-moving freight as the previous one steps off – and hobos must do the same – or more likely it takes five to twenty minutes to change. And yet, our locomotives a half-mile to the front 'dynamite' releasing a blast of compressed air that is heard for miles, and signifies the train has probably terminated and is going to break up. A yard worker on a quad confirms this, tells us to lie low because the yard is 'hot' with security, and advises us to take a tunnel under the bowl of sorting tracks to the north side yard and look for units heading up eastbound. I'm a cookbook of adventure knowing liberties are given, and taken at risk. Emerging from the far side of the 100-yard cool tunnel another yard worker in a pickup spots us and lifts the mike of his radio. Hoboing is game theory and the stage is the freight yard. A game consists of freedoms, barriers and purposes. The freedom is the open road, the barriers are the strings of cars, watchful towers, deadly silent rollers, and the sweat in your eye that may lead to a misstep. However, primary among these is the necessity in a game to have an opponent or enemy. There must be a continuum of problems which there are in a freight yard, and to have sufficient individuality to cope with them which is given. Now the game begins. The Barstow yard is three miles long and a half-mile wide with the typical configuration throughout the USA of two main lines (with traffic in opposite directions) feeding into either end, usually under a highway bridge, that quickly fan into a wide swath of some fifty tracks that are littered with strings of some 500 freight cars on hold, fueling locomotives, yard locomotives pushing segments of trains around, the yardmaster tower, outbuildings, and stacks of RR ties and miscellaneous equipment. Barstow is a hobo blockade to most because it is HOT with a high security presence. Our primary opponent is the Bull, or Cinder Dick. Oddly, in these days of tightened security since 911, it's still as easy to jump a freight train as it is a jet plane. The railroads in the financial squeeze have farmed the Bull duties out to private security firms which send a young man in a starched uniform driving about the yard in a white truck looking for inclusion and tuned to the radio for tips from yard workers and the towers. MoJo and I had just completed climbing over the 13th string of cars to get to the other side of the yard when that white truck stops ten feet away with only a set of gondola wheels separating our legs from his. I hunker down to peer between the 3' metal wheels and gaze into the eyes of a fresh, crew-cut young man in white with a silver star staring back and grinning. I guffaw, arise to heels, walk around the wheels, and introduce myself. 'Just trying to catch an eastbound and not touching anything.' 'I've been getting reports on you guys all over the yard all day. What's up?' 'Did you ever climb over 13 strings of cars? It takes five minutes per track and it's hot so we welcome you.' MoJo pipes, 'We know there's an Amtrak at 9:54pm, if that's any help.' 'Just follow the caged center rail for another mile to get to the Amtrak station, and there will be eastbound freights as you walk leaving on both sides of the cage.' 'Thank you,' I settle, and we quickly walk away. The truck backs along the other side of the string of cars following our progress for five minutes, and then leaves. 'What a surprise!' I suggest. 'A sympathetic security who has clued us on how to catch out.' We hike to the unstaffed Amtrak station and guzzle icy liquids for thirty minutes in the Harvey House Railroad Museum. Fred Harvey's Harvey Houses are a household name among hobos and Amtrak passengers throughout the west. An innovative restaurateur, Fred Harvey created the first restaurant chain in the US and developed the Harvey House lunch rooms, souvenir shops, and hotels that served passengers on the western gridiron of the early otherwise 'wild' west. The Harvey family continued to run the business until 1965, and now with the closing of most of the depots, many like this one in Barstow have been converted to Amtrak stations and museums. I pop a cold soda and gaze over a collection of dated RR nails of which I have a complete hand-collected set from 1901 to present. Then we retrace along the perimeter fence for a mile until finding a 'hole'. There is always a break in the fence behind a bush where other hobos have pried it open for yard access, and we scoot under like squirrels to secret in pines to study the busy eastside tracks. Within minutes, two trains roll up, and then a third. The only obstacle is the caged center rail, a dual 4' high chain link fence that protects the workers from the high speed passenger train, and that MoJo takes with a bound as I boost myself standing on a pack. We board a mixed freight for the shade of a lumber car, and catnap on plywood until a nightmare strikes. The train begins to move the opposite direct of our intent, so I shout, 'Your pack - Throw it w-a-y out.' He does, and, 'Now you!' The freight is rattling 5mph and a little faster than an escalator and we haven't had a chance for the lesson on how to disembark on the fly. Rather than step down the ladder, MoJo leaps from the car lip 6' above the ballast and arches as high as a basketball rim before dropping like a sandbag. He alights in an absorbing tumble albeit in the opposite direction of the train, and dusts himself off as I yell, 'Watch me!' and simply step to the bottom rung of the ladder and then another 2' down to the moving ground. 'That's one kitten toward the life of a Catman,' I tell him, and he smiles like one. The smile drops as the container train on the adjacent rail jolts in the correct direction, and as I move for the ladder express, 'That's how fast things happen in a freight yard.' We board because it's a priority train bound for distant places. Container cars are the 30-40' metal boxes mounted on flatcars that haul merchandise intra-country or overseas. There's usually a narrow well in which to sit at the ends of the container on the flatcar, and it's advisable to take the rear one to avoid a shifting load in an emergency stop. Double-stacks are containers mounted two-high on a flatcar, and our ride taken in a hurry was sounding two long whistle blasts for imminent departure. These are called intermodal trains because the containers are shunted from rail to truck to ship. Intermodal transport is the current wave of transport with 7 of 10 ten trains that we've seen being containers and piggybacks, whereas five years ago it was a third that many. In our rush to board we selected the front porch of a container flatcar to avoid the scorching sun. This means that if the train emergency stops (happens once every cross country trip) the riders may be thrown forward and off the car. A fast moving train with 100+ cars that emergency brakes takes about a mile-and-half to stop. I was hit in a VW van once by a 20mp freight and carried on the cowcatcher for a quarter-mile down the rail before it halted and I let go the steering wheel and fell through the window. On mean, a train emergency stops every ten hobo travel days usually due to an animal, person or car in the track, or an uncoupled brake hose. I've remained safety conscious of emergency stops, and insist that MoJo and I, with one hand each, grasp a 2" vertical bar on the container door for eight straight hours until Needles, Ca. This is not just any container train but a pure JB Hunt 'unit' train. JB Hunt, a Fortune 500 company, since 1961 has been one of the leaders in Intermodal transportation with 12,000 company trucks as well as independent drivers, and 47,000 trailers and containers, with contracts with all the major rail carriers. Let's take a typical unit container train. It consists of 130 cars, each car is about 60 feet long, and it's pulled/pushed by four 65-foot long locomotives. The cars are 7800 feet, the locomotives add 240 feet, for a total of 8040 feet. Loaded freight cars are designed to weigh close to the same when full, 125 to 145 tons, makes no difference if it is fuel, coal, barley, a container, or scrap iron. A typical modern train runs three units on the point and one pusher at the rear. I would say a good average for a train these days is a mile-and-half and speeding 65mph. 'Intense,' coos MoJo, and I recall my basketball coach drilling, 'You miss 100% of the shots you don't take.' Our JB Hunt train parallels Interstate 40 for an hour and outraces every vehicle on the road. This stretch from Barstow to Needles twins the famous old west Mojave Road that is now a dirt trail that I walked in one week once, running out of water but sucking it from barrel cactus. The JB Hunt boxes surprisingly have only a thin plastic seal and easily could be broken into, unlike the heavy lock on my container home in the California Sonora that's refurbished with a loft, waterbed, office and library. Approaching midnight, we roll with still clenched grips into Needles, California. This whistle stop oasis located 100 miles north of my Sand Valley digs often boasts on national weather reports the hottest place in the country, and in the comic strip Peanuts, whose creator Charles Schultz lived in Needles as a boy, Snoopy's brother Spike lived in the desert near where we finally release the vertical bars and heave stiffly over the side. Spike frequently heads to Needles to partake the town's nightlife, which I agree is primarily howling with the coyotes. 'I don't want to be stuck here,' I explain, 'But we must change cars.' We board a few cars aft on the rear porch of a flatcar with a double-stack just as the brakes click, the line hisses, and the freight whooshes into the night. It has taken less than five minutes to change crew. Now we stretch out and sleep while crossing the Colorado River and beyond, for there is no better siesta than on a freight that rocks like a cradle where nothing can disturb you until the next crew change. We surf the rail out of California and into Winslow, Arizona, with the Eagles Standing on the Corner Statue that is a catchout point for hobos with a catchy line to their song Take it Easy… 'Such a fine sight to see'…' and then the crossing bells clank for the thousandth time and the train pushes on. MoJo admits to quitting coffee for the trip and is well into a full beard. He asks about my shoulder tattoo of a mouse with a smile and teardrop in one eye to which I justify that on the road when you're smiling you'll soon be crying, and when you're crying you'll soon be smiling. This is our state on striking Belen, New Mexico. Most hobos ride the rails in confusion. They get on a train sober with a bottle of wine or whiskey, and drink it down in the first two hours of the ride so they'll be sober again to debark at the next division town. They pause in one of these junction jungles to clean up, perhaps to work a temp job, panhandle, or visit friends. As long as their stomachs are full and they remain on the move they're happy. However, the boxcar tourists I ride with travel with purpose: to see the nation, to get from one place to another, or to learn of themselves. I believe that to live fully one must have, in addition to a means of support and something to do, a higher purpose. This resolve, to be a goal at all, must have counter-purposes or purposes which prevent it from occurring. There must be individualities which oppose the purpose because if one lacks these it is nearly certain he will invent them. We 'plastic people', as the grimy traditional hobos call us for our cards and perhaps appearance, are abetted in our travels by three tools of the trade that most conventional bos will never know about but would give the gold in their teeth to own. The first is the Rand McNally Handy Railroad Atlas of the RR 'interstates' or main rails. I also carry system maps for Amtrak and Greyhound in 'poor man's laminations' of clear sealing tape. But the trump is the Crew Change Guide. Otherwise, you'd face as a green bo entering the rail system a great many pieces of paper whirling about a room that would be confusing until you picked out the one piece of paper by which everything else is in motion. This is the Guide that has replaced the hundreds of sheets of notes and yard sketches that I made on my initial runs in the 80s. The Guide is shrouded in mystery that I now can clear. The author was a folk hero named Train Doc whom I met at a Dunsmuir RR festival in the 80s. He is a Vietnam vet who became a New England nurse's aide while spending all his free time freight hopping and recording details about the thousands of yards: where to catch out, jungles, supply stores, where the units 'head up', fences, and bulls. Since train hopping is technically illegal, he titled the guide From Birmingham to Wendover: Alternative Travel Guide to Cool Camping Places so that if a law official discovers the text it won't incriminate the rider. The Guide lists no author but in the 80s everyone knew and Train Doc confirmed to me that he wrote it to help others in searching out the freedoms of the open road. Train Doc is an Ed 'Lilywhite' Norton look and talk alike if you remember Jackie Gleason's TV Honeymooners. I tell people the Crew Change Guide is the most laboriously researched book in English literature and the most helpful in a narrow topic range. Now adrift in the middle of New Mexico, MoJo studies his IPhone Googlemap and Yelp (whenever near an Interstate or bridge) as I compare his data with the Crew Change Guide. My compass is deflected by the metal car and rail to point forever east and is useless. We jump down in late afternoon in Belen, a railroad community that exists because of BNSF, located on I-25 thirty miles south of Albuquerque. The omniscient Guide and IPhone concur that there are a Valero gas station and Blake's Burger a half-mile through a weed patch and west on Reinken Ave, and so we hoof it. Hobos own their own Golden Rule in the form of an Ethical Code that was created by Tourist Union #63 at the 1889 National Hobo Convention in St. Louis, Missouri. Sandwiched between Rule #1 ('Decide your own life, don't let another person run or rule you.') and later laws on yard and jungle conduct, tenets #2-10 deal with town behavior, as follows: 2. When in town, always respect the local law and officials, and try to be a gentleman at all times. 3. Don't take advantage of someone who is in a vulnerable situation, 4. Always try to find work, even if temporary. 5. When no employment is available, make your own work by using your added talents at crafts. 6. Do not allow yourself to become a stupid drunk and set a bad example for locals. 7. When jungling in town, respect handouts, do not wear them out. 8. Always respect nature, do not leave garbage where you are jungling. 9. If in a community jungle, always pitch in and help. 10. Try to stay clean, and boil up wherever possible. In keeping, we wash up at the Valero one at a time, and then gulp great draughts of Gatorade, milk, and juice without burping. A kind lady hands me a bottled water and newspaper, and then returns fifteen minutes later with burgers and fries for my partner and me. A young Hispanic with gang tattoos presses $2 into my hand that I pass to the Valero girl clerk for feeling bad that she overheard me quip that it is odd for someone in a railroad town to never have heard of Amtrak. Start, charge, and stop. Wait. Start, charge and stop. A repeating cycle of action that MoJo calls 'intensity interrupted by nothingness' is the hobo way. After the long lope back into the Belen yard we face catching out. Each RR yard demands about an hour of taxing multi-tasking in finding and boarding a car, the iron steed breaks the gate, and now we will look at another eight hours of countryside roll by like National Geographic except with the elements of sun, wind, insects and odors. We have chosen a piggyback to ride from Belen. The Piggyback is a flatcar that carries semi-truck trailers. One leans against the big tires and views 270-degrees of flowing scenery from under the trailer belly albeit a few dangling brake cables. The piggyback doors are sealed flimsily like containers and so bulls frown on pig riders, causing hobos to secret between the rear wheels. I've also ridden side-saddle like an old west Indian shielded outside the tires through hot yards. I used to say, things blow around and away on 'pigs', so everything should be roped down. I no longer say that because this is my first ride on a pig with wind blinders that have come into vogue in the past couple of years. The blinders stretch from nearly the tires to the front prong to block the breeze, still allow a view around and under, and screen prying eyes from the outside. A piggyback train such as this is a priority, third only to Amtrak and container trains, that I favor all in accordance with the seagoing adage to admire a small ship, but put your freight in a large one because the larger the load, the faster the voyage and the greater the profit. Across the Rio Grande flies the blundered pig into the night. Ft. Worth!' announces MoJo, glancing up from his glowing IPhone, as though neither ever sleeps. This is the BNSF headquarters with spokes east, west, north and south, but we conjecture this train of truck trailers is northbound along the dense Southern Transcon. The Southern Transcon is the main line of the BNSF between Southern California and Chicago. It was completed in its current right-of-way by 1908, and now serves as a mostly double-tracked Intermodal corridor. The route is one of the most heavily trafficked in the western US with an average daily of over 100 trains with each averaging one to 1.5 miles in length, like ours. It's a fast five minute crew change in Ft. Worth as we hold fast with beef jerky and Gatorade. The 'hobo diet' while stuck on rolling stock day after day is one of the most effective with the fewest hunger pangs because there is so much to watch. Quick in and quick out is the way I like a yard, and before the train picks up speed it glides by the tremendous WalMart distribution facility beneath the setting sun. WalMart, a few months ago, announced the opening of a new online fulfillment center that the train wheels slowly by so that I have time to study the lot. I thought WalMart was big but this nearly 1 million square-foot facility proves it's huge. With 4,100 stores within five miles of two-thirds of the US population, WalMart gains a significant advantage over Amazon.com by positioning this online distribution building in the center of its empire. I estimate 500 parked or rolling company semi-trucks in the building lot before our train whisks us out of sight. Yogi Berra said, 'When you get to a fork in the road, take it,' and we did that. It's deliciously incongruous how one may pack for the hob life or for the WalMart life. The WalMart life is supported by millions of homes cluttered with items of want and need in a ratio of about 10:1. On the other hand, we have packed streamline to move quickly cross-county like hobo chameleons resembling, as the need arises, the yard workers in freight yards and normal citizens in stopover cities. Our ostensible school daypacks weigh about 30 pounds (sans liquids) and contain little more than earplugs, electronic handhelds including a set of walkie-talkies, credit cards, a hundred dollars in the inseams, flashlight, compass, day's supply of food (beef jerky and trail mix), toothbrush, pen and pad, paperback, 20' length of rope, tarp, and windbreaker. A compressible 40F sleeping bag is toted inside at the top, and the pack is soft to squeeze under fences and into cubby holes, without loose straps to catch on passing machinery. The key to our disguise is a pair of overalls – he has coveralls and I a pair of bib-overalls - that protect our citizen clothes beneath and walk easily into any RR yard. We set our course on the ocean of rails to the north. I warn, freight riding in the east is far different from the west with more towns swamped on one another, single tracks, more sidings, and fenced yards with higher security, but, after all, we will see industrial America through the back door. Magnificent! Up through the Texas Panhandle, as MoJo calls out the towns from his IPhone Googlemap, 'Amarillo… Oklahoma City… Wichita!' yells MoJo as if it's a tornado. He's enthused. The metaphors of trains are many. Life is a string of beads, and a train of moods, and as we pass through them they color and enlighten if only we can see our goals. Kansas stretches on like a mat of grass occasionally rolled into lumps and crisscrossed by a gridiron. This is the heartland of America. In east central Kansas the rail becomes single and our train goes 'in the hole' on sidetracks frequently to allow higher priority intermodals to pass from the same or opposite directions. Our rate is suddenly cut in half to an average 30mph for the next 24 hours. Hundreds of single-horn toots blare day and night at clanging crossings. BNSF serves over 1,500 grain elevators located mostly in the Midwest with Kansas among the leaders. Had we chosen a mixed freight through this grainland the chances of being 'ditched' beside one of these towering silos and having to walk the rail for hours to civilization would have risen. Train whistles are used to communicate with other railroad workers on a train or in the yard, as well as with the savvy townspeople. Different combinations of long and short whistles – like a Morse code - each has its own meaning. They are used to pass instructions, as a safety signal, and to warn of impending movements of a train. Despite the advent of modern radio communication, we endure many of these whistle signals hourly. A succession of short sounds is used when an emergency exists, or if persons or livestock are on the track. It sounded when a Northwest train I was on once braked for a blow-up dinosaur placed in the rail by a tramp who wanted to board from his favorite fishing spot in the Rockies. The most common signal is one short as the train is approaching a public grade crossing. Highball we've identified as two long blasts, and three shorts while the train is stopped means backup – which notifies the hobo to get off or be ditched. Kansas City!' is the morning call, to which I frown at the ambiguity until he murmurs, 'Kansas'. I stiffen to an exclamation point. KC, KC is a RR nexus that throws spaghetti tracks out N, S, E, and W. A hobo nightmare. I make lighting compilations in about seven theaters of possibilities as the train bowls past the four story bright red 'Kansas City Southern' barn sign and into the BNSF Argentine Yard. We peak under the blinders barely daring to breathe least they flap. This BNSF classification yard is the largest with 780-acres on the on the system. I see an intermodal hub center, a hump with 60 sorting tracks yonder down the rails, a car repair shop, a large diesel shop, several other outbuildings, the main tower with a cyclopean 360-degree glass, and beneath it dozens of scurrying yard workers in and out of vehicles. I'm reminded of the book 70,000 to 1. MoJo seems daunted. 'I want out.' 'I've allotted one week away from the political swamp for this trip and this is the fifth day. I have to think about returning to Washington DC.' I see his point, but the timing is poor. The highlight of the Argentine yard is it's hemmed like a prison - has been for miles - by a 8' cyclone fence topped with razor wire. We visually sweep each side of our flatcar and see nothing but rows and miles of hundreds of other strings of cars, buildings, and an army of workers corralled by the cyclone fence. The crew change will be on a dime here, and we choose to hang tight and look for a break in the fence while rolling. But first, there's a light jar toward the rear as half our train is cut loose, leaving us a half-mile long with four snorting engines. A lone white van stenciled Renzenberger pulls aside the lead unit, and the outgoing crew climbs in as the incoming crew exits and mans the locomotive. Operating a fleet of thousands of such vehicles thought the nation, Renzenberger is the recognized leader in providing crew transportation to and from their call motels. Hobos use them also, and I've hitched rides twice right to the waiting locomotives. Even as I chuckle in reflection, the hoses snake with turgor, brakes click, here comes the drumbeat, and the car bolts forward with our necks jerking like Jack-in-the-boxes. Nonetheless, we survey the fenceline on both sides for breaks to escape. There are some, and the train does pause, twice in the five miles between KC, KC and KC, MO, and yet I won't let the reporter depart. Both sides of the sewn track between the two KC's are seedy industrial and residential wasteland where those colorful rail riding hobos have been replaced by the bag lady, welfare sponges, gang bangers, and stew bums. We cling to the safety of the flatcar knowing the fence prevents them from getting to us. 'That's ok,' MoJo resigns. Trapped, I've never been on a faster freight. Four locomotives roar with a half-mile load streaking at 70mph up and down roly-poly Missouri. In a bucking wind we pull our sleeping bags up to our chins falling into an uneasy slumber on a hard crazed vibrating bed. Crack! Crash! The freight is suffused in alternating light and darkness. We've driven into a near tornado and the wind blinders flap wildly dumping buckets of water into the sleeping bags. The metal floor drops to 40F, and MoJo vows dryly though chattering teeth, 'This is the test.' The best strategy is to fold into a G note and meditate on sunrise until passing out. There's always a morning after. It sounds like something from a Woody Guthrie song, but it's true, This land was made for you and me. One comfort of hoboing that takes some getting used to is if you don't know where you're going you can't get lost. But we've come very far. People travel to wonder at the height of mountains, the waves of the sea, at the long rivers, and the compasses of the ocean, under the circular motion of the stars, and they pass by themselves without wondering who am I that is often discovered on the rails. This is what I hope for MoJo. We've been riveted to the rails for 3000 miles in six straight days from LA via Texas to Chicago, a speed and distance record without a layover for me. 'Chicago!' Situated in a broad valley 17 miles southwest of Chi-town, the Willow Springs Intermodal Yard stretches two miles, yet with about 20 tracks is only one-third of a mile wide. Our flatcar sits smack between two highway bridges that we study around the blinders of the piggyback like Kilroys. Nearby, a 40' truck trailer like ours is being lifted into the air and placed squarely on a nearby railroad flatcar. Another giant crane is removing piggies from a flatcar to a road. The nearly absurd thought arises that an intermodal hobo could remain on board in a hammock lashed under the piggyback and be conveyed up and off the flatcar to the road, a semi hooks on, and he continues to hobo the Interstates sheltered by the wind blinders for as long as one could endure the tire tossed pebbles and dead skunks. Willow Springs is BNSF's second-busiest intermodal yard, performing about a million lifts a year. Its key customer is United Parcel Service whose mid-west facility located next door handles two million packages daily. Packages bound for UPS distribution facilities less than 400 miles away are trucked. Greater than 400 miles, there's a train ride in that trailer's future… And that's where BNSF comes in. It takes 10 percent of UPS's total domestic ground volume. Like a passenger train, the trailers aren't held until they're full. They depart at assigned pull times scheduled to meet train cutoff times. The packages are read on a conveyor belt three times en route to the proper piggy trailer. It's driven next door to the Intermodal yard, add one hobo if you wish, and it's off to a dozen major destinations. At Willow Springs, 99 percent of the units handled are trailers rather than containers, and today there are about 3,000 look-alike trailers scattered across the terminal and five loading RR tracks all go where they're supposed to go, followed by computer. It seems the only thing not tracked by computer these days, not counting the GPS in MoJo's IPhone, is the hobo. Freight riding falls somewhere between chess and war. In chess, there are the same problems and movements but if you lose you pull the pieces out the box and start again. In hoboing, you can get hurt or caught by the big, bad Bull, and it's illegal. But in war, the enemy is trying to shoot you. There are many life lessons from each, and on this trip we have learned much of the recent changes in the rail commerce. The train industry among all has been progressive in America. As a wise man never lies down on the tracks of history to wait for the train of the future to run over him, each year I go out on the rails to see innovations. If there is a recession underway in USA the railways refute it. In the past five years, there are twice as many trains, four times as many intermodals (containers and truck vans on flatcars), yard workers use quads instead of walking the lines, RR bulls have been replaced by private young security, and, attesting for the hobos, far more and colorful boxcar art reflecting more youthful train riders. One change in technology has brought about the greatest hobo evolution in history since steam yielded to diesel-electric in the 50s. It is the addition of wind blinders to semi-truck vans like the one we rode screened in wonderful privacy from KC to Chicago. These piggybacks have always been a favorite with a wide view and shade under the belly, however no more may security pick off bos rolling through yards. The blinders have made us hotshot hobos. The reporter has gained a universal education from the rails. Have you ever seen a retired man who pined for his desk? MoJo would rather ride the trains to Washington DC, but there's no time. We hunker under the piggyback and don our 'goin' to town' clothes for the first time in nearly a week. For me, it's a blue pinstripe shirt under bib overalls and for him a clean black windbreaker. It always seems impossible until it's done. We hop down - take a minute to relocate our landlubber legs – and shy to the east side of the yard onto a dirt track that meanders as pleasantly as an old English lane through a woods bordering the Des Plaines River to the Willow Springs Bridge. We look like train tramps to train tramps, like yard workers to yard workers, and soon will blend in with regular citizens. A brakeman bathed in sunshine waves like a windmill thinking we are exiting crew, and we greet back. Once down the bridge embankment we walk two blocks north along Willow Springs Road to a Speedway station with a Subway shop. After a meal, a taxi whisks us for twenty minutes to Chicago Midway Airport where he jets to DC and I encounter former President Carter exiting the Miami bound plane I'm about to board. The Secret Service and FBI hardly take note of this hobo or could guess how I got here in the last six days. I've been to some strange places on earth but when I landed in the LA county jail for jaywalking I thought this is the end. First, two hundred of us were jammed into a large room with one open toilet where the feces literally overflowed onto the floor. I sat on the floor near there so people wouldn't bother me. A guy went into convulsions nearby and they just let him twitch for 20 minutes before unlocking the door and bringing in a stretcher. Then we were herded in groups into a smaller room where they gassed us through the ventilation with chloroform as they threw our cage assignments onto the floor. For the next three days we were shuttled from cage to cage every three hours not knowing if it was day or night in the underground 2000 person facility. There was a baloney sandwich every 8 hours when they made us sit crotch to crotch but on a long bench to eat. The guards warned us that if any of us acted up the others should jump him. My last cell was the size of a small bedroom where I was the only white but we all stood because there was no room to do anything else as a loudspeaker crackled our court times. I hadn't jaywalked and stopped traffic on the 2 am streets as the ticket said, so I planned a defense. Next I was daisy chained with a line of other inmates and marched through a dark tunnel and suddenly into a huge bright courtroom. The judge looked like Groucho Marx. "Well, gentlemen, I have good and bad news," he intoned. "the bad news is the jail is overcrowded; the good is that you are all going to be released with 'time served' if everyone pleads guilty." I looked around and knew these guys would shiv (stab, knife) me if I said otherwise, and we all answered guilty. Hours later they examined the Mickey Mouse tattoo on my left shoulder to make sure it was me, and I was released onto the streets of LA on July 4th. Tim Melvin writes: In the misspent days of yore I was a traveling door to door book salesman for several years. One of the drawbacks of this profession was being subject to arrest in various cities and towns that had some sort of ordinance against door to door sales. As a result I got to experience many of our nation's jails and lockups for a brief period of time. LA County is second only to Albuquerque for filthy and horrid conditions. For those keeping score Boulder Colorado was the best. I was there for a weekend and took a macrame class and caught up on my reading. I was fascinated by this amazing video showing the extreme intelligence of Honey Badgers. The video shows the badger, Stoffell, outwitting his "owner" and escaping from his enclosures in about 10 different ingenious way. The Hobo comments: I had no idea honey badgers beat up on cobras. I've seen one badger near where I live and another while hiking in Mexico and they just lumber along like a champion wrestlers as if they own the world. I met Jane Goodall one year at the Bitish Embassy in Nairobi where she hooted at me like a monkey. But badgers are probably more interesting to everyone. I found this and thought of the Hobo. Churchill on Chaplin: Even poverty wore a different face in America. It was not the bitter, grinding destitution Charlie had encountered in the London slums and which has now, thanks to the extension of social services, largely disappeared. In many cases it was a poverty deliberately chosen, rather than imposed from without. Every cinema goer is familiar with the Chaplin tramps, but I wonder how many of them have reflected how characteristically American are these homeless wanderers. In the dwindling ranks of the English tramps one finds all sorts of people - from the varsity graduate whose career has ended in ruin and disgrace, to he half imbecile illiterate who has been unemployable since boyhood. But they all have one thing in common - they belong to the great army of the defeated. They still maintain the pretence of looking for work - but they do not expect to find it. They are spiritless and hopeless. The American hobo of twenty-five years ago was of an entirely different type. Often he was not so much an outcast from society as a rebel against it. He could not settle down, either in a home or a job. He hated the routine of regular employment and loved the changes and chances of the road. Behind his wanderings was something of the old adventurous urge that sent the covered wagons lumbering across the prairie towards the sunset. There were also upon the highways of America, in the old days of prosperity, many men who were not tramps at all in the ordinary sense of the term. They were traveling craftsmen, who would work in one place for a few weeks or months, and then move on to look for another job elsewhere. Even today, when work is no longer easy to secure, the American wanderer still refuses to acknowledge defeat. That indomitable spirit is part of the make-up of the screen Charlie Chaplin. His portrayal of the underdog is definitely American rather than British. The English workingman has courage in plenty, but those whom prolonged unemployment has forced on the road are nowadays usually broken and despairing. The Chaplin tramp has a quality of defiance and disdain. The hobo responds: There is a better ground than choosing poverty or riches for us. That is the Prince & the Pauper condition that's available to nearly anyone reading this. Skid row is a vast experimental laboratory and nowhere else have I discovered & set limits than in those rows across America. An American hobo is defined as a worker who wanders from job to job. The USA allows this with grand territory and a thick network of railroads to enter it. England is cramped; USA is wide open. So it is that the hobos who today in spring are hitting the flatcars and boxcars by the thousands are rebels against tight living and a diurnal job. Almost all are forced by hunger to climb aboard Dirty Face but some of us do it for the adventure, and for self-discovery. Charlie Chaplin, though British, is convincing as an spirited American tramp because he grew up in the poor district laboratory that I pass through by choice. Charlie's childhood in London was hemmed by poverty and hardship. His father absent and mother struggling financially, he was sent to a workhouse twice before the age of nine. It puts me in mind of my friend George Meegan who climbed a ship's mast on River Thames at a similar age, saw the horizon, and sailed at it for seven years on tramp steamers at sea. Then he jumped down and found his land legs in walking from Tierra del Fuego to the arctic circle via NYC. You cannot hide the backdrop of such talent on screen or in print. When Chaplin was 14 his mother was committed to a mental asylum. I've worked those also as another laboratory of experience, and old folks homes, jails, and even sold Nut Cracker Sweets on 57th street of Manhattan outside Niederhoffer, Cross & Co. after working a day upstairs as a technical analyst. To point, Chaplin toured as a tramp comedian before attracting notice and coming to America to become the premiere tramp. In his floppy footsteps followed Weary (Emmett Kelly) Willie and Happy (Red Skelton) Hobo. Emmet was literally born into a circus while Red beginning at age 10 was part of a traveling medicine show. They had the spirit, all right, from experience & passed it on to their audiences. For the real deal on the skid rows read anything by Nels Anderson. And so that brings me to today's choice after paying the IRS. I can use the leftovers to go on an African safari or a walk in Baja, Mexico. Life is a series of T-mazes, if one takes it seriously, and I think I'll take a walk. anonymous asks the hobo: Have you spent any time on Skid Row in Los Angeles? The hobo responds: LA was my first skid row. I checked into the Midnight mission and sat in a pew next to a black man with 6's tattooed across his knuckles as we listened to an ass-whopping sermon. That's where I 'fell in love' with mission preaching. Then we ate a hearty meal of meat loaf, potatoes & gravy. Then we lined up for bug check. What's that? I didn't know but everyone had to do it before getting a bed. The housekeep must have spotted me as a virgin tramp for I was called first to wind down the stairs into the bowel of the mission where a man I couldn't see waited with a blue light. He told me to drop my drawers and proceeded to shine the light to fluoresce pubic lice. 'Clean! Next!' he yelled. That night i was grateful for being dead tired from catching a freight into town the previous ones. The dorm room of fifty soon filled with snores & flatulence while gunshots outside on skid row shook the broken windows. The next day I caught a freight to the next skid road. That's a hellofa education. Virtually every Appalachian Trail hiker ditches stuff in the first two weeks of walking. At the end of the first month he's learned to tell ounces difference in his backpack, and has trimmed the pack itself as much as possible. His guidebook is whittled, he has thrown away his water filter, jackets, extra clothes, and arrives at all I ever take on a distance hike: 6-8 lbs including the guidebook (pages torn out), one extra pair of sox, matches, a 1.5 lb sleeping bag, 1 pound biv sack, quart water bottle, GPS, compass, and the clothes and hat on the body. By the time they reached me on the APT in Vermont that's about what their packs contained. There's about a 90% attrition rate from the start at Springer Mt, Geo to the finish at the Canadian border. I just did the length of Vermont & Maine to the Canadian border & nearly got run over in the fog in the road a few minutes from the border. I was shivering so hard in the October cold that wouldn't have felt it, but carried on past the road for a few minutes to a signed border post, turned around, walked another few hours on frozen feet and in the middle of the night found some locals outside a town burning pallets & fell asleep by the fire. One would think that one would intuitively evolve to ultralight backpacking everywhere by everyone but the opposite was true. Until the early 90s, I found on trails that every one of hundreds I encountered used the method of carry as much as you can to connect the short supply/water points. These were generally 15 miles away, and 8 miles apart in the mountains where the packs for both weighed 40-60 lbs. They looked as tall as basketball nets. People on the Pacific Crest & Appalachian trails ridiculed me in the early 90s for carrying no more than a fanny pack or day pack for long distances of months to walk faster and further to connect to more distant supply/water points. I was ostracized from groups while hiking & denied access to the shelters because no one believed I was a thorough hiker using a base weight 10 lbs. pack plus little water and food. I was walking as if on clouds 25-30 miles a day. Then something happened in about '95. I started seeing hikers with lighter packs and read in a hiking journal about the new 'ultralight' concept of hiking. Now I was ostracized again for carrying a pack too heavy. The technique has evolved, and is, to carry an extremely light pack of 6-8 lbs. and to walk upward of 40 miles a day. Hiking is big business these days around USA and I'm waiting for them to expand across the border into Mexico and South America where I've become an 'ex-pat hiker' and pioneered trails including a continuation of the Pacific Crest from the border for 1300 miles through Baja to Cabo san Lucas. I've been more than pleased with my new Kindle Fire HDx for books, documentaries and in general. It's nearly everything a traveler could want. I bought 3 collapsible keyboards to test each and two are v. good. They're the size of a tiny paperback book but unfold to nearly full size keyboard and are remote. Easy fast typing. The two are about $30 Verbatum and Basic Bluetooth. The kindle itself is as fast as most computers for net and email, much faster than latin computers. Also I bought a couple $20 solar chargers that are half the size of a cigarette box each, and a cigarette lighter charger. The whole system weights about 2 lb. and fits in a pocket. It can theoretically go hiking and if lost write memoirs. The documents are automatically stored on the internet 'cloud' at the first wireless contact as the corpse is lowered into the ground. It also reads stories to me, and transcribes speech pretty well into a document. There are dozens of perks including the best, nearly instant live support by email, phone or chat that I've encountered since Home Depot. I get free shipping at amazon for weeks that has saved a hundred bucks on books & stuff in the past month. I've begun watching free full length movies & documentaries at night on either the kindle or computer. The kindle has been like falling into a heaven except they don't include a user's manual with the original device. U have to think enuf to go online for a free one just to learn how to turn it on. Hi Bo, I have a friend doing some development around the downtown train tracks who would like to know the origin of the phrase "riding the rods." Can you enlighten him? Where are you these days? Coming to Memphis any time? Bo Keely answers: Riding the rods comes from the name given the Brake Rods which the hobos used to ride underneath the freight cars. a board called a 'ticket' was propped spanning two brake rods that each is like 1'' rebar running the length of the undercarriage. Train tramps rode their little Ticket to avoid detection by the RR bull. That was when steam trains were in vogue prior to late 50s & went more slowly. nonetheless it was a chancy ride because you had to stay awake or roll off between the wheels. I've ridden a ladder on the side of a freight for hours, caught there & tied myself on in case I lost my grip or napped, however I've never heard of modern hobos riding the rods because there are other safer places. Also, I've observed that the old brake rods hung lower beneath the belly of the pre-50s cars to allow more room to lie or sit on the board. A particularly nasty bull would stand on top a moving freight car he thought a hobo was riding the rods beneath the carriage of and drag a chain on the ground between the rails flipping up ballast rocks in the tramp's face. U might see examples of riding the rods in the classic Emperor of the North, Woody Guthrie's Bound for Glory speaks of riding the rods. I'm in Miami after a trip out west. February 10, 2014 | Leave a Comment I just published a new book on amazon. Feel free to buy and review. George Meegan: The Longest Walk Companion by Steve "bo" Keeley From the description on the site: 'Thirty years after The Longest Walk, a companion has come out! And where else to meet the intrepid biographer, Bo Keeley, than in the Peru, beside the Amazon, in outrageous Iquitos.' – So begins the most celebrated world walker of all time, George Meegan, in the Introduction to the Companion book to his famous The Longest Walk. The Longest Walk Companion is as much autobiographical as biographical. It holds new tales, lists, sources, and pictures captioned by George. George Meegan holds eight Guinness World records for his walk of the entire Western Hemisphere from the southern tip of South America to the northernmost part of Alaska at Prudhoe Bay. The journey was of 19,019 miles from 1977-1983, and is documented in his book The Longest Walk. This Longest Walk Companion by George and Steve Keeley contains all new material. TABLE OF CONTENTS: - What kind of man leaves hearth and kin · The Walk Itself - Highlights from the walk itself with photos · Democracy Reaches the Kids - Original notes from the authors lifelong passion · Letters and Papers - Dozens sent around the world on his favorite topics · Articles & Coverage, Sources & Lists - Hundreds on Meegan courtesy of the computer age · Records and Accolades - three pages of honors · New Photos - Most never published and captioned by Meegan · The only authorized biography of George Meegan - by adventurer and author Steve Keeley GEORGE MEEGAN APPEARANCES: · Larry King Live · Today Show · CBS Morning News · Good Morning America · 11 PM Show · Stud's Terkal Radio · The Joe Franklin Show · Phil Donahue · Hugh Downs Victor writes to Bo: What is your relation with the book The Longest Walk. It's very good. And the author has a nice character and adventurous spirit that reminds one of you. See George Meegan's wikipedia. I wrote it. George comes to NYC often and you and especially Aubrey would benefit from meeting him. However, he would need a place to stay for a couple days while visiting. His primary interest is children's education and has written Democracy Reaches the Kids that I may also self publish for him. George and I met in Iquitos on the amazon river via a mutual friend as an introduction of 'walkers'. You're right, we're a bit like each other except he has a seafaring gait from like Ken Smith from 7 years at sea. He would be a strong speaker at Junta, and has spoken at the NYC Explorer's Club, Studs Terkle, Larry King Live, etc. and they all asked him back twice. When I read his book & learned that it was out of print & that he wasn't making a penny on it, and that he had the copyright, we huddled & inserted some new front material, appendices, & pics. I just published a second book by him that went amazon.com yesterday The Longest Walk Companion authored by me. After The Longest Walk trek and book, George faded from the American spotlight. He travels exactly as I do, on a shoestring, but pauses in one spot to live longer. He's been more or less on the road for an age. Read his wikipedia link above, and I'll send a note of introduction. February 7, 2014 | 1 Comment I hate satellite phones. For one thing, I like to be alone, for two, unreachable, and for three, untraceable. It isnt possible with a satellite phone or family. Explanation: two years ago I told my family that I was going to mexico and would return in a couple months. Two months later, I didn't get to a computer before returning directly to my desert digs. A month after, when I did finally get to a computer, I discovered I was 'dead'. I also never knew I had so many friends. There were a dozen facebook posts, two dozen emails, a memorial was in the making, and a syndicated columnist wrote on 'the legend passing'. I notified everyone that 'the rumors of my death are greatly exaggerated' - Mark Twain. What happened? My brother had called in a missing person report, my sister-in-law had posted 'where is Keeley' on facebook, and someone had contacted the American Embassy in Mexico to send out a search party. The day after learning of my demise, I went across into Mexico again for a prescription and when I tried to return the US immigration declared I was not whom my passport purported I was. I was missing or dead. Nonetheless, they strip searched and detained me at the mexicali border, and then sent me to the sheriff's office to identify myself. Then i carried on with life. no satellite phone for me, A friend of Keely's writes: Not sure if you'll like this, but check out this Camp Tramps, Loners and Hermits site about primitive wilderness skills. There's a series of articles about becoming a 'feral woodsman'. The writer includes stories of his encounters with interesting folks living in the bush. It's somewhat like rancho costa nada describing characters living in alternative ways like you or hippie jim or other sand valley residents. I like the pahrump guy in the trailer. if kingman doesn't work out (asthma) I will investigate pahrump. It reminded me of this Detroit guy off the grid in a trailer (you've prob seen it before). Bo Keely writes: 'Camp tramps' is a fine term. It describes the people of Sand Valley except they paid $50 a month rent (toward purchase) to keep the authorities off their necks. There's nothing quite like having a plot of land that as long as you don't do anything 'wrong' you can order anyone off. It's like ownership of mind. The Sand Valley camp tramps like JR, the Tuks & I have shifted properties multiple times to find the 'right place'. The definition of a good neighbor in Sand Valley is one who never visits until there's an emergency. I've found I've become a drifter. Why wait for the world to come to you when you can go get the world. The next link about the Detroit guy in his trailer retreat reminds me that hobos were the vanguard of this fleedom to a little camp in a quiet place, usually on a river. They tow in a trailer, or built a shanty, and lived contentedly. Often it was by a RR track so that when they got bored they could get away. Loners are certainly the most interesting. They have become 'themselves', completely inner directed. A loner never finds you; you stumble on a loner in any part of the world. The last one I remember was a gent on Trinidad in a jungle concealed hut who slept under a 1' wasps nest. I think he talked to me because I kept only one eye on the nest and the other on him. 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Giant snakes are a staple of world mythology, and they continue to be sighted today by witnesses that would normally be deemed reliable. Some giant snakes are simply bigger than any example of their particular species is supposed to get. Other giant snakes are bigger than any species of snake is supposed to get, including some reports of giants so big that they should be able to swallow an elephant without any trouble. Humans have a certain adult size. When you reach the size determined by your own genetics, you stop getting bigger. Snakes grow according to a different plan. They often continue getting bigger well after adulthood. Potentially, this could mean that giant snakes are simply very old animals that are otherwise ordinary. Scientists tend to think that this maximum size is much smaller than many of the sightings indicate. However, a snake that spent most or all of its time in the water could "cheat" some, because the water would help it support its weight. In harmony with this theory, a large percentage of giant snake reports involve water-dwelling species of snake. Other theories are not about old snakes of a known species, but about some undiscovered species of snakes. The fossil record contains many presumably extinct examples of giant snakes, some of them almost unbelievably huge. For example, some of these prehistoric snakes once lived in Thailand, where similar snakes are still reported from the rivers. Unlike the case with mammals, new species of reptiles are discovered all the time. Biologists expect many more species of lizards, snakes and turtles to be discovered for years to come. This means that discovering a new species of giant snake would be much more likely to happen than is the case with most of the cryptids listed on this website. A creature of especial interest in the study of giant snakes is the giant anaconda. The normal anaconda is the world's largest snake. However, there are sightings every year of anacondas that are much bigger than the biggest recorded anaconda. The biggest of these giant anacondas have features that do not seem like anacondas. Since the anaconda is primarily a water-dwelling snake, the giant anaconda could fit with either of the two major theories about giant snakes. If they are not mistaken, these sightings could represent overgrown, old individuals, or there could be some new species of snake living in the Amazon Rainforest that is bigger than the anaconda. The reason that cryptozoologists show so much interest in the giant anaconda is because there is much better evidence for it than for any other kind of giant snake. In fact, the evidence is far better than Bigfoot footprints. It is known that normal anacondas leave a special kind of track when traveling across mudflats from one swampy area to another. You can tell what size the snake is by looking at the width of the track. Many tracks of the giant anaconda have been found in remote areas. Hoaxing these tracks would take far more expertise than hoaxing the footprints of a Bigfoot. You can't get near without creating your own tracks too, unless you had a helicopter, and even then the difficulties involved in making six-foot-wide tracks that had all the characteristics of a heavy giant snake would be staggering. This is the prime reason that cryptozoologists concentrate on giant anaconda reports more than any other kind of giant snake. This is one cryptid that has even drawn a lot of attention from normal biologists, a rare event in the field of cryptozoology. This is true despite the fact that the giant anaconda is wrapped up in as much mythology as any truly mythical creature. It is alledged by local residents to reside in a secret enchanted city at the bottom of the river, and it is sometimes thought to shapeshift into a man or woman to attend parties, like the folk hero named Cobra Norato. The giant anaconda has glowing eyes, commands whirlpools, and is associated with ghosts and phantoms of all kinds, including a phantom island and a phantom riverboat. It might sound like a silly creature with all this folklore, but there are enough plausible, ordinary sightings that, combined with the physical evidence, it makes a good case for a possible new animal. Other than the giant anaconda, reports of giant snakes tend to seem less plausible and are often embarassing to cryptozoologists. Many of them get classified either as dragons or as lake monsters, depending on the exact features present. One example of a fairly mythical giant snake is the "crowing crested cobra" which is reported from at least seven different nations in Africa. Growing up to 20 feet, longer than the longest known venomous snakes, these giant cobras reportedly crow like a rooster, have a comb like a rooster, and are amazingly poisonous. All of these characteristics are quite reminiscent of the basilisk, a legendary snake/rooster monster. Clark, Jerome and Coleman, Loren. Cryptozoology A-Z. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1999. Pages 86-88, 160 Coleman, Loren. Mysterious America: The Revised Edition. New York: Paraview Press, 2001. Pages 9, 29, 38, 76-82 Hall, Jamie. Half Human, Half Animal: Tales of Werewolves and Related Creatures. Bloomington, Indiana: Authorhouse, 2003. Pages 157-160, 166-167, 169-171 Justice, Aaron. Giant Anaconda Keel, John A. The Complete Guide to Mysterious Beings. New York: Doubleday, 1994. Pages 43-45 Newton, Michael. Encyclopedia of Cryptozoology: A Global Guide to Hidden Animals and Their Pursuers. Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland & Company, 2005. Pages 15, 22-23, 39, 56-57, 59, 72, 77, 89, 93, 111, 114, 119, 122-123, 126, 131, 137, 147, 154, 163-164, 172, 182-184, 192, 201-202, 207, 216, 226, 237, 241, 247, 250-251, 254-256, 270, 297-298, 314, 316, 318, 321, 327, 331, 335, 337, 343, 345, 369-370, 387-388, 395, 404-405, 407, 410-411, 414, 420, 422, 427, 435, 439, 443-444, 449, 451, 462, 468, 471, 488, 493, 506 Randolph, Vance. We Always Lie to Strangers: Tall Tales From the Ozarks. Westport, Connecticut: Greenwood Press, 1974. Pages 136-139 Tyler, Royall, ed. Japanese Tales. New York: Pantheon Books, 1987. Pages 194-196 Wikipedia, The. Anaconda Wikipedia, The. Naga Woodyard, Chris. Haunted Ohio II: More Ghostly Tales from the Buckeye State. Beavercreek, Ohio: Kestrel Publications, 1992. Pages 95-96, 107-109 The text on this page is copyright 2006-2010 by Jamie Hall. Please use proper citation if you are using this website for research. See this page's history on the Wayback Machine.

Trish Wooldridge at the blog A NOVEL FRIEND asked to do an interview. Check out her blog here. Here’s the interview: I’m happy to share this Writerly Wednesday blog with my friend, colleague, and fellow feminist & Broad, Emilie P. Bush. Emilie was a big help with a lot of the Dragon*Con programming and a lot of fun to hang out with when we got to meet in person. Emilie is a working mom with a 2 and 4 year old. She says, “I felt like I had to write a novel or I would die a horrible death. I didn’t realize how unhappy [I was] focusing wholly on the needs of one husband and two small children until I started writing. After several months of insomnia and mad writing, I had reconnected with myself and had a darn fine book to show for it.” Emilie’s book, Chenda and the Airship Brofman are available at Amazon.com here. You can also hear the Chenda and the Airship Brofman podcast here, and why not also make it a favorite on Facebook? Also, find out more about Emilie, her life, and her writing on her blog. Tell us a little about Chenda and the Airship Brofman. What can readers expect from it? Chenda and the Airship Brofman is a classic hero’s epic, except it’s a heroine’s take. I’ve called it Feminist Steampunk once or twice. In a lot of ways, Chenda and I started the book in the same place (write what you know, right?) — depressed. In her case, this 100% sheltered child who grew up in a convent, and then at the estate of the richest man in her country – Edison Frost — is suddenly widowed. Edison leaves her a bag of stones and a cryptic note telling her she needs to undertake a journey across the sea to the Tugrulian Empire, where she is to find a holy Mystic who can reveal her destiny. Chenda does the only thing she can think of – she obeys. Along her journey, she meets an old sweetheart of Edison’s and the crew of the airship Brofman. Her adventure takes her up in the air, across a desert, under the sea and into a world of gods – who all seem to have a wicked sense of humor. Chenda transforms from a shell of an orphaned girl into a powerful woman who, better than anyone else in the world, can take care of herself. What was your favorite part in writing this story? Why? The original opening line of the story. Sadly, I had to cut it. I learned very early on in my writing career, back when I was writing features for public radio, sometimes you have to give up the soundbite you like the best because it doesn’t fit the story. Otherwise, I would have to say the interplay between Verdu and Fenimore – the two senior officers on the Brofman. They have a phenomenon between them that – when they are together – they start to move in tandem: one breathes in as the other breathes out, they blink together, move together. The tandem varies from quirky to creepy to troublesome as the two best friends have a falling out over Chenda. I enjoyed writing these two because they were so similar and yet so different. I also have a softspot in my heart for gay literature. Fen and Verdu are straight, but some of their interplay is homage to Gay Lit. Slightly taboo. Wholly fun. What was the hardest part to write? Why? The hardest part of writing for me has always been answering the basic questions “Am I saying what I mean?” and “Why should the character’s care about each other?” At first, I had the problem of knowing where my characters are going. I knew, but I didn’t want to give away too much, too soon. I know my character’s hearts and heads, but am I putting enough of it down on paper to convey their motives and character to the reader? As to the second question, that’s when I really relied on Beta Readers. I would write a chapter and send it off to my friend. When she finished, I started asking questions like, “Do you buy this plot point?” or “How can I tie these characters together so they will break their various norms?” Working this way, sending a chapter at a time to my friend, turned every chapter into a cliff hanger, so there is LOTS of excitement. What would you say was the greatest lesson you learned in writing Chenda and the Airship Brofman? About writing, yourself, creation, life? No one can create in a vacuum. EVERY life experience can translate into a story. In this book, I write about what it was like for me to step off an airplane in West Africa, the sadness of losing someone close forever, the blood stopping fear of being attacked, the joy of finding someone who vanished years ago. It’s all in there and more, but it’s such a better tale to tell, and much easier to let it out, when it happens to Chenda. I can change it, make events happen for her, and convey the pulpy emotions the way I felt them, but with perhaps better outcomes and more style. Also, I got to write all my friends into the story. (Again, write what you know.) When I thought of my dorky friends as characters, the book just flowed. My best friend is Henrietta Hoppingood. There are bits of my husband in both the Captain and Fenimore. Ryan and Laura are real people, and the Dia Orella Temple is a real place – it just happens to be a Hindu Mandir at the end of my street. Why did you decide to publish independently? What advice can you offer from your experiences? Truth be told, I would have rather had an agent and a publisher and the kit and kaboodle, but after 27 query letters to agents, I started to realize, from a publishing perspective, my book was a problem: at 107,000 words, it was too long for a first novel, it was feminist Sci – Fi in this new Steampunk sub-genre, it wasn’t chick lit, and it wasn’t romance, and I wasn’t a celebrity telling all. It didn’t fit. Beyond that, I started to realize that I couldn’t get an agent unless I was published and I couldn’t get published unless I had an agent. The last piece of the decision came at Dragon*Con. I got talking with some smaller publishers, who thought they could get my book on some – few – shelves in two years (assuming I was willing to cut 10,000 words – as one publisher told me to do – even before he read it. Said it would be cheaper for him to print. YIKES!) Just looking around the Con, it didn’t take a rocket surgeon to figure out that STEAM is way IN! Two years??? I’d rather strike with the iron hot, thank you very much. I went to a talk [at Dragon*Con] about independent publishing. The panelists – successful self publishers all – had one thing in common; they new how to give their stuff away. They developed a following over several years and then were able to sell effectively both written content and logoed merchandise After hearing that most writers junk their first novel anyway (because even the ones who snag an agent have little success with Book #1), I decided to give it away. I started a blog and a website (CoalCitySteam.com will get you to both) and started to podcast the chapters. I plan on giving the whole book away a bit at a time. It’s important to ask yourself “What is success?” In my case, it’s telling my story, not selling my story. (However, that would be a nice.) What are your next plans? I will be going to several Sci-Fi Cons to sit on Steampunk panels and do some readings. Hopefully, I will be able to garner a few readers. Otherwise, I have a new book in the works, it’s based on a short story I wrote about a girl in New York City who cheeses off a Greek God by accident and starts to see all manner of “imaginary” and mythic creatures. I’m eager to get back to it, as I also set it aside time to focus on getting Chenda up and out the door. I hope to have the first draft of that one done by Spring. At the moment, it’s called Cryptid, and it is nothing like Chenda and the Airship Brofman. I’m not done with Chenda, however. She has a lot more to do, so look for the next installment of her story in a year or so. I’m calling it The Gospel According to Verdu. What piece of advice do you wish you had when you started that you’d like to give people now? The people who snark about authors who don’t have agents and publishers are, not surprisingly, agents and publishers. The old model of publishing and distributing books is not particularly efficient – for writers or publishers. It won’t work for every book. As long as you are willing to work inside the learning curve of self publishing, I would say GO FOR IT. Write what you feel. What’s that song from Seasame Street? “Don’t worry if it’s not good enough for anyone else to hear… Just sing! Sing a Song!” Write – Write your book! What are you most thankful for now that Chenda and the Airship Brofman is available? The help. My spelling sucks out loud, and I have two small children. I needed proof readers in the worst way and my husband to take the kids. I’m also very pleased that my dad, in his reply to my announcement that the book was on Amazon, signed his reply “Proud Father.” That made my day. Did he buy a copy of the book? Um, no. But we eat an elephant one bite at a time, don’t we? I’m also glad to be happy. Writing makes me happy, do I don’t care if Pops every BUYS a copy. Here is a bit of trivia for you. I named the airship Brofman after Sir Martin Brofman – who said: The words you use to describe your reality, create reality. I came up with the words to make Chenda’s world and then I put her into it. What I write is real to me– it’s a place I like to walk around in. It makes me happy. So why would I ever stop writing? Thank you very much for the interview, Emilie!!

Posted by: Craig Woolheater on January 22nd, 2007 I apologize already for the sensationalistic headline on this post. But I wanted folks to come and check out this feature of the new site. One of the cool features of the updated site is the fact that we can play the videos right here on the site. In the past, all we could do was provide a link to whatever video hosting site to send you there to watch the video. Feel free to comment on the video here. Loren has posted a topic this morning asking for the readers’ feedback on the new site design. Please post your comments about the design there on Cryptomundo. Here is a commercial that Cingular ran showing what people have supposed. In today’s age of rapidly advancing technology, one fact is true. There are more cameras out in areas where someone may catch a photo or video of a cryptid. The problem being that a lot of the phones have fairly low resolution cameras. We received a video shot with a camera phone last year at the TBRC. While it showed a large, dark, mobile object, it was such low resolution that it was inconclusive at best. Could it have been Bigfoot? Perhaps… Here is the link to the video on Metacafe. For those that can’t view the video here on Cryptomundo, perhaps you can view it on their site, or perhaps even troubleshoot your browser plug-in issues. Co-founder of Cryptomundo in 2005. I have appeared in or contributed to the following TV programs, documentaries and films: OLN's Mysterious Encounters: "Caddo Critter", Southern Fried Bigfoot, Travel Channel's Weird Travels: "Bigfoot", History Channel's MonsterQuest: "Swamp Stalker", The Wild Man of the Navidad, Destination America's Monsters and Mysteries in America: Texas Terror - Lake Worth Monster, Animal Planet's Finding Bigfoot: Return to Boggy Creek and Beast of the Bayou.

This just in from MuldersWorld.com: This extraordinary CCTV footage shows what is thought to be a werewolf roaming a garden in Brazil. The grainy 44-second clip emerged on YouTube after a spate of sightings of the terrifying cryptid in the town of São Gonçalo de Campos, near Feira de Santana, in the state of Bahia. The strange creature first spotted by a local man known only as Pingo who described critter as being a 5 foot tall black monster. The recent outburst of sightings in the area has forced government officials to place a 9pm curfew.

According to The Moscow News, towns outside of the Russian city of Novosibirsk are abuzz with rumors of chupacabras, who are said to be sipping on some bovine and goaty hemoglobin. One local named Natalya witnessed the creature's aftermath last month during her morning chores: I got up and went to the barn to milk the goats. I looked and saw right on the doorstep a goat with its neck thrown back unnaturally. On the neck there was something like a bite mark, the belly was torn, and there were huge claw marks. I came over bad and started screaming, I ran to the house to see the children were alright [...] Natalya's daughter's uncle Viktor Shushpanov claims to have seen photographic evidence of the fanged cryptid, albeit years prior to recent attacks: It's come from the devil. I've seen it. My brother, even when he lived near St Petersburg seven years ago accidently photographed a chupacabra. He took the usual family picture and then saw the demonic face through the kitchen window. Grey-red it was, such an unpleasant face, like a bat with fangs [...] My brother showed me this photograph and upon the advice of his family he burned it [...] It must be noted that these quotes were initially given to the sensationalist rag Komsomolskaya Pravda, but if anybody needs me, I'll be at the print shop, capitalizing on this phenomenon with some CHUPACABRA SUMMER SLAM Y2KXI: SUCK THE GLOBE t-shirts.

Posted by: Loren Coleman on December 19th, 2005 The Top Cryptozoology Books of 2005 It is time for my annual overviews of all things cryptozoological. Here’s my top picks for the best cryptozoology books of 2005, in order of the books’ rankings of importance, plus the books’ individual achievements noted in recognition of each of their unique niches within the cryptozoological literature this year. If you are looking for “The Top Cryptozoology Stories of 2005,” please click here. (1) The Best Historical Book on Cryptozoology in 2005 In a year that may be remembered for the rediscovery of the supposedly extinct ivory-billed woodpecker, the top honors for the best cryptozoology book of the year must go to The Lady and the Panda. It is a wonderful old-fashioned tome on the discovery of the giant pandas – one of last century’s most remarkable stories – and the relatively untold details of the woman who should get more credit for "finding" them. The search for the first live giant pandas is a fascinating but true tale of cryptozoology discovery, captured with adventure in The Lady and the Panda . Vicki Croke’s book is an exciting, warm, and intriguing volume about Ruth Harkness’ personal journey to be the initial Westerner to catch and return with the first live giant pandas. This is a book I’ve wanted to write myself for years, and I’m glad to finally see someone, appropriately a seasoned woman writer, do a great job with this subject. The Lady and the Panda also gives due credit to Harkness’ Chinese guide and eventual lover Quentin Young, who showed her how to find the giant pandas. (2) The Best Reference Book on Cryptozoology in 2005 When Michael Newton’s Encyclopedia of Cryptozoology arrived, I stayed up until the wee hours of the night, reading, flipping, reading more, surfing, reading, and smiling. What a trip, what an adventure. Newton’s critical writing is right on target, with a light hand and open-mindedness to looking at all facets, in presenting cases, cryptids, and evidence, as well as the overturning of media-driven hoax claims (Nessie Surgeon Photos, Ray Wallace fiasco, and others). Most surprising of all the entries I read is Newton’s reexamination of the supposed 1990 expose’ of Three-Toes, with a fresh look again at "all" elements of those 1948 events. This volume quite correctly is as skeptical of blanket debunking claims as it is to the fast rush to specific cryptozoological hypotheses. Newton logically critiques the various theories of cryptozoologists who have ventured forth with their thoughts. His discussion of the Minnesota Iceman, for example, in its total fairness to several points of view, I found amazing. There are 2,744 entries, including 112 individual biographies, 77 cryptozoology groups described, and, of course, lots of location data, cryptids detailed, and illustrations sprinkled throughout. It also has some fantastic appendices that are comprehensive listings of new animal discoveries, cryptofiction, cryptozoology in films, and cryptozoology on television. At 576 pages in one oversized volume, it is a rather user friendly reference work. Michael Newton’s Encyclopedia of Cryptozoology is perhaps too expensive for most private libraries (at $95 US), but I highly recommend you mention it for purchase by your local, school, or university library (the target audience of a reference work like this, anyway). For those serious cryptozoologists who can afford it, for your personal research library, it, simply put, is a must buy. The one minor shortcoming is Newton’s lack of credit to at least one work that served as the basis for data in this book. George Eberhart’s excellent cryptozoology reference work, Mysterious Creatures (from 2002 at $185) is used but not mentioned in Newton’s work, in contrast to the generous citing of material Newton obtained from the affordable reference work, Cryptozoology A to Z (from 1999, at $14). (3) The Best Bigfoot Book of 2005 In Pursuit of a Legend: 72 Days in California Bigfoot Country by T. A. Wilson This Bigfoot book pick may seem an unusual choice considering some of the others out there (such as the historically significant reprint, The Bigfoot Film Controversy: The Original Roger Patterson Book – Do Abominable Snowmen Of America Really Exist?). But occasionally one needs to read a book of passion about the Sasquatch hunt, and not just another text on the facts and stories. In Pursuit of a Legend contains a grounded level of excitement for the quest, and should be read with that in mind. It is not a book of sightings and statistics on footprints, but it is a good revisiting of the dynamic gut feelings when in the midst of the search. (4) The Best Individual Cryptid Book of 2005 Lizardmen: The True Story of Mermen and Mermaids by Mark A. Hall At 132 pages and self-published, Lizardmen gives people a book to read containing what is out there on the contemporary research into the continuing question of the original Creatures from the Black Lagoon, the Merbeings. Whether you wish to deny, dispute, debate, or dive deeper into these investigations is the reader’s choice, but Hall is not shy about placing the material and his insights in front of you on this topic. If you decide to not digest it, you will be all the more hungry for this data someday when this book is impossible to locate. (5) The Best Cryptozoological Expedition Book of 2005 Carnivorous Nights: On the Trail of the Tasmanian Tiger by Margaret Mittelbach, Michael Crewdson, and Alexis Rockman This well-written book on the pursuit of information and feelings about the probably still existing (but officially extinct) Thylacine (a/k/a Tasmanian Tiger) is not to be used as a guidebook for your next expedition. But it’s a fun record of these three’s own trek in quest of this animal. And Alexis Rockman’s art is beyond belief. (6) The Best Cryptofiction based on a Cryptozoologically Fictional Motion Picture in 2005 The World of Kong: A Natural History of Skull Island by Weta Workshop Hey, King Kong is a blockbuster. But beyond that, as far as cryptofiction goes, The World of Kong: A Natural History of Skull Island is a work of fiction taking into account many threads of current cryptozoological thought, and in this book elevates to it all to a high art, graphically and textually. (7) The Best Mothman Book of 2005 Mothman: Behind the Red Eyes by Jeff Wamsley What can I say, Mothman (really, I sense, it is a misnamed large avian cryptid) has to be on the list again. Wamsley knows Mothman. (8) The Best Fortean Cryptozoology Book of 2005 Hunt for the Skinwalker: Science Confronts the Unexplained at a Remote Ranch in Utah by Colm A. Kelleher and George Knapp This book may have some bizarre interpretations for the cryptids being seen, but that doesn’t mean we can’t mine Hunt for the Skinwalker for the rich collection of data contained therein. (9) The Best Cryptozoology Book on the Ivory-Billed Woodpecker of 2005 The Grail Bird: Hot on the Trail of the Ivory-billed Woodpecker by Tim Gallagher Yep, the rediscovery of the ivory-billed woodpecker is one of the top stories of 2005, so we are going to continue to see books on these beautiful birds coming out during the next half decade. This one is worthy of our attention for 2005. Of course, in 2006, I’d trade in two books on this bird for one on the 2004 (!) discovery of the "Hobbits," Homo floresiensis. Such a book is long-overdue. (10) The Best Cryptozoology Children’s Book of 2005 I predict more and more children’s cryptozoology books in the coming decade, some good, some really bad. This one gets this year’s honors for best: Strange New Species: Astonishing Discoveries of Life on Earth, by Elin Kelsey, with a forward by Marc van Roosmalen. Copyright 2005 Loren Coleman. Books have to be received to be reviewed in Cryptomundo’s CryptoZoo News, and, of course, received to be placed on the Top Cryptozoology Books for 2006. Please send your review copies to Loren Coleman, Post Office Box 360, Portland, ME 04112 USA, for future consideration. Thank you. Loren Coleman is one of the world’s leading cryptozoologists, some say “the” leading. Certainly, he is acknowledged as the current living American researcher and writer who has most popularized cryptozoology in the late 20th and early 21st centuries. Starting his fieldwork and investigations in 1960, after traveling and trekking extensively in pursuit of cryptozoological mysteries, Coleman began writing to share his experiences in 1969. An honorary member of Ivan T. Sanderson’s Society for the Investigation of the Unexplained in the 1970s, Coleman has been bestowed with similar honorary memberships of the North Idaho College Cryptozoology Club in 1983, and in subsequent years, that of the British Columbia Scientific Cryptozoology Club, CryptoSafari International, and other international organizations. He was also a Life Member and Benefactor of the International Society of Cryptozoology (now-defunct). Loren Coleman’s daily blog, as a member of the Cryptomundo Team, served as an ongoing avenue of communication for the ever-growing body of cryptozoo news from 2005 through 2013.

Posted by: Craig Woolheater on February 22nd, 2013 Interview from Horrorpedia: Dave Coleman is the world’s foremost expert on that most misunderstood of sub-genres, the Bigfoot Film. His book, The Bigfoot Filmography, is the last word on these movies – at least until the next edition! Horrorpedia spoke to him about the book and the films… Firstly – why Bigfoot? What made you want to write about Bigfoot films? Mainly I was frustrated that no one else had! I love cinema books and film magazines, but the lack of any proper reference guide to what I honestly considered a “verboten genre” was really annoying me over the years. I self-published a fanzine called Remote Jockey Digest in the early 1990s and published what I believe was the first attempt to do so in an article called “The Essential Guide to Bigfoot Cinema.” I got a lot of email and letters on that article. Later, when I happened to be corresponding with Loren Coleman asking about some Bigfoot film or other, I asked him: do you know of any guides that classify Bigfoot films, per se? He didn’t, so I set out to do so. I had no idea — I mean, none! — how many films there were until I began the research process in earnest. Yeti – Curse of the Snow Demon How long did it take to get the book together? Maybe two and a half years? I am not really sure, looking back. I mean, on the one hand, I spent that amount of time actually researching, emailing, interviewing, watching, critiquing, collecting photos, etc. each and every Bigfoot movie that I hadn’t seen before. But on the other hand? I’ve been a fan of cryptid hominid cinema since childhood, dating back to The Legend of Boggy Creek in 1972. So in one sense? I’ve been writing it all my life! And you know, it’s still being written! I receive weekly, sometimes daily, updates from filmmakers and fans who alert me to the latest new film I may or may not yet heard about re: Bigfoot via Facebook or my blog for The Bigfoot Filmography. So if and when there is a revised edition, it threatens to be as massive as the first one. Bigfoot movies don’t have the best reputation. Was that something that concerned you when writing the book? That perhaps people might not be responsive the the subject matter? I actually was slightly intrigued by the gutter-level perception. Not that I was new to it. I had tried and failed to make a low-budget scary Sasquatch movie back in the early 1980s while still in film school. I even had special effects artist Tony Gardner, then just a student like myself at USC’s film school, collaborate with me designing a suit, etc. But I encountered even then a “resistance” to the idea, let alone possibility, of any “good Bigfoot movie” existing. In fact, more folks believed in an actual Bigfoot, I discovered, than do the existence of entertaining Sasquatch movies! I write in my book that it has been, for decades now, a truly “secret cinema” because it has been so verboten to admit one likes it. I equated it with Mexican wrestling movies in my introduction to the book, but I noted even lucha libre has a better rep, is considered legit cult cinema, etc. To me, it’s not whether or not it’s “good” or “bad,” per se. I like what Tim Burton once said when asked by an interviewer why he liked “bad movies” as opposed to the “good ones.” He basically said they’re all kind of bad, when you really think about it. That’s a sublime answer! I find value as a film lover not only in a film’s historical or critical reputation, but simply by what interests and excites me, as viewer, however admittedly peculiar or off-beat my tastes. I also rather enjoy “shocking” more staid filmic types who believe everything has been discovered and enumerated with footnotes, by now. Hardly! Such persistent attitudes are partially why I believe filmmaking is such an endangered art form in any genre, Bigfoot always included, anyway. The sad fact is too much of film criticism is academic only in orientation, and not enough is oriented towards critical writings that focus not on box office or paid critical endorsements, but the actual, relevant cultural value of the genre in question. I don’t like the kind of writing in which “surface plasticity versus societal prejudices” are more frequent than, say, “director scrambling to find completion funds” and “zero chance of distribution inside the Hollywood system” as signature search phrases. Call it a personal bias against the prevailing critical bias, if you will. 😉 You cover Bigfoot and Yeti films. How do you see the relationship between the two creatures? Though many will differ — and rightfully so, from their perspective — I consider them basically a holy trinity of same-minded beings, if you will, at least cinematically speaking: Bigfoot, Sasquatch and Yeti. Of course, one could argue: why even differentiate between Bigfoot and Sasquatch, right? My point is, these three names are the three names most often associated with hominid cinema. I speculate that whatever local name derivation, these three names are the most universally understood, and therefore most commercially exploitable, of all the other sub-names: Fouke Monster; Skunk Ape; Grassman; Skookum; etc. There are many cryptozoological differences between all hominid sightings and reported encounters, of course. As Loren Coleman has pointed out, Yetis are historically reported as being dark-furred in older sightings, not white-furred. He speculates (and I do so, as well, in my book) that such early films as George Pal’s The Seven Faces of Dr. Lao and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer in the early 1960s may have created a public perception that Yetis are significantly different from Bigfoot, when they vary little in actuality, especially given the enormous cultural differences between, say, a Sherpa guide in the Himalayas and a local fisherman in Alabama, in reporting the incidents. This raises an interesting question, which I again wrestle in the book: how much do the films influence real-world sightings, and then, vice versa? It’s a very fluid line, and it’s constantly being crossed. This is actually why the Bigfoot genre is so incredibly resilient, when you think about it. For over 100 years, it has been around, lurking in the back woods of film studies, and yet, dismissed as unworthy not based on any critical assessment, but sheer prejudice or ignorance, or both. Read the rest of the interview here. Co-founder of Cryptomundo in 2005. I have appeared in or contributed to the following TV programs, documentaries and films: OLN's Mysterious Encounters: "Caddo Critter", Southern Fried Bigfoot, Travel Channel's Weird Travels: "Bigfoot", History Channel's MonsterQuest: "Swamp Stalker", The Wild Man of the Navidad, Destination America's Monsters and Mysteries in America: Texas Terror - Lake Worth Monster, Animal Planet's Finding Bigfoot: Return to Boggy Creek and Beast of the Bayou.

may refer to: - Mawa, Bangladesh - the Mawa Clawed Frog, a species of frog endemic to Cameroon - Orang Mawas, a proposed hominid cryptid reported to inhabit the jungle of Johor in Malaysia - Mawa language (Chad), - Mawa language (Nigeria), a unclassified language - Mawa, is a term used in Hindi language to denote dried fruits or a sweet made from khoa – a byproduct of milk. |See more at Wikipedia.org...| Mawa is a Chadic language spoken in Chad. The language is: Mawa Translate the English term Mawa to other languages

Seana O. Found this at the Arkansas River in Tulsa OK and wonders what the hell is. Some say dog and some others point out that it might be an actual Chupacabra. LOOK CLOSELY AT THE HANDS AND FEET THEY ARE HUMAN !!!!!! Driving through the park in an open top jeep, and something strange pokes its head out of a bush to our astonishment, so we stop and continue to observe it. At that point we weren't too far away from it, and it looked like a dog or something casual, but it proceeded to rise onto two feet and move forward a bit, and out of being startled, it was shot. Long story short, We contacted the park ranger, and he came and retrieved it and while talking about it, called it chupacabra multiple times, and it got spooky when he told us that we better not say anything or tell the news or he would have us arrested, that no one is to know about it and that they've been trying to find it for a while now. We snapped a picture when he wasn't looking and then he proceeded to take it away. I just wanted this picture to get around and circulate because this is strange and It feels as if they try to keep it hidden. ( email was received from JL on March 29, 2012) This killed 18 chickens in one evening and did not eat any. It tore up a Friday, February 11, 2011 2:47 AM to get to them. I re-worked my fences, piled the dead up, and put a trail camera over them. This is what I got 3 days later. . email received from JB in Arkansas Ok guys working on catching it on video. But it is running with a red fox. Both seen during daylight. Hairless one not timid at all two shotgun blasts above head to even get it to walk off. This in my front yard 10 feet from front porch. It’s the size of the fox it runs with but damn to be that fearless even scared me a little. I live in a little town in south Alabama named silverhill. Zip is 36576. I’m not messing around with this thing any more will help some one trap it or I will put a 405 grain .45 -70 slug into it. So if you guys want a live one or what ever this is then contact me. email received 9/7/10 from MH To Receive Instant Notifications About New Sightings Friday morning 8:15 a.m., Sept 10th, Havasu Landing near Parker Dam. Walked right in front of my lake house (20 ft). It had a bad right rear leg, and was limping. I followed it (50ft) for a couple minutes and it headed down the trail toward Parker Dam. No doubt what I saw. email received from DB 9/10/10 We found this fetus in our back yard this morning. After watching sightings on the el email and pictures recieved from LW Monday, July 19, 2010 10:01 PMon youtube, we feel that this resembles it. What do you think? And, what should we do? We have 3 yellow labs that run with us in the back field. Do we need to be concerned? We did see an animal last night that was large but kinda ran like a racoon, but it was too dark to really see it clearly.. We live in Michigan. Hollywood Hills Chupacabra Sighting My wife and I were on our Honeymoon. My Uncle was taking us up the hills to see the . On our way back down, we stopped to get a beautiful view of the city. Then, from the bushes, comes this creature. My Uncle says, "What IS that?" Me, being a longtime nerd got all excited! I yelled, "I know EXACTLY what that is! It's El Chupacabra!" I snapped a few pics and had the privilege of introducing my wife, Aunt, Uncle and cousins to the ! Sunday September 12th, 2010 5:37 PM Hollywood Hills, CA These were taken in my neighbors yard yesterday. We live in Alabama. What do you think?? Lisa Sept 21,2010 Pictures taken in Lawrenceville Georgia on Wed. June 30, 2010. Animal having been seen 5-6 times a day since last Friday...yesterday, it watched me taking pictures, would walk around, sit down, lay down...police shot it but didn't kill on first shot....blood trail into woods...not found. Hairless, hoave feet...strange looking! email received Thursday, July 1, 2010 1:49 PM from Mary On Friday, May 21,2010 about . in Callahan County, TX on FM 604 (North of Hwy 36) close to Lake Clyde, My Mother and I saw a very strange animal cross the road as we were traveling down the country lane to Coleman, TX. At first it looked like some kind of coyote. We backed up, it stopped and was looking at us also for a couple of minutes. It did not seem that frightened of us. It was standing in some grass on all four feet, but we could not see it's feet. It was the size of a coyote, grey in color, had a long skinny rat tail, tight skin around it's healthy belly, ears like a cougar and a very ugly face. It's face was hollowed and tight, showing it's cheek and jaw bone lines. It's head was not as long as a coyote's, but it was longer than a cougar's. It put it's front feet together and hopped twice like a kangaroo. Then it leaped over a large number of bushes, probably about a 14 feet leap. Then it leaped again, disappearing in the bushes. We have never heard of chupacabra's, nor do we believe in superstitious things, but we saw a real strange alive animal. I would not be surprised if one of the hunting lodges imported these animals to the area. I am only reporting the sighting so that it can be documented. email received Sun, June 6, 2010 12:16:06 PM from DH I believe I may have seen a in Ohio. I was walking in the woods one day. I came to a large clearing where I could see one of my grandfather's wheat fields. I could see a strange creature at the far end of the field. It looked like a coyote but it was furless. Its spine seemed to be showing as it appeared to have a ridge across its back. Its skin looked tight and leathery. Its face was ugly. Im not sure if it was a Chupacabra or a mutated coyote. email received Wednesday, June 16, 2010 1:30 PM Courtney email received Tuesday, June 8, 2010 6:37 PM William More Texas Chupacabra Sightings Chupacabra Found In Texas “It got into his cousin’s barn and they thought maybe it was a rodent tearing stuff up, and they no idea since they’ve never seen it,” Ayers said. “He got out some poison and this is what they got the next day.” The animal is described as gray, with leathery skin and unlike anything that is native to Texas. “There’s no hair on it, it’s got long teeth, it’s got the long tail like a coyote but there’s no hair,” said Butler. “It just seems to me that the legs are a little longer than a coyote and I can’t tell you one way or another if it’s a coyote with mange or if it’s a chupacabra.” said Lynn Butler of Rosenberg speaking to a local TV station. The Chupacabra from the Spanish words chupar, meaning “to suck”, and cabra, meaning “goat”; literally “goat sucker”), also called El Chupacabras in Spanish, is a legendary cryptid rumored to inhabit parts of the Americas, according to Wikipdedia. What Kind of Beast Drains All The Blood From Its Victims???? The Chupacabra. The name comes from the spanish word chupar, meaning "to suck", and cabra, meaning "goat"; literally "goat sucker"), also called El Chupacabras in Spanish, is a legendary blood-sucking beast. It is associated more recently with sightings of an allegedly unknown animal in Puerto Rico (where these sightings were first reported), Mexico, and the United States. The name comes from the animal's reported habit of attacking and drinking the blood of livestock especially goats.. Physical descriptions of the creature vary. Eyewitness sightings have been claimed as early as 1990 in Puerto Rico, and have since been reported as far north Maine and south as Chile. It is a heavy creature, the size of a small bear, with a row of spines reaching from the neck to the base of the tail. The first reported attacks occurred in March 1995 in Puerto Rico.Many sheepwere discovered dead, each with three puncture wounds in the chest area and completely drained of blood. A few months later, in August, an eyewitness, Madelyne Tolentino, reported seeing the creature in the Puerto Rican town of Canóvanas, when as many as 150 farm animals and pets were killed. In 1975, similar killings in the small town of Moca, were attributed to El Vampiro de Moca (The Vampire of Moca). Initially it was suspected that the killings were committed by a Satanic Cult ; later more killings were reported around the island, and many farms reported loss of animal life. Each of the animals had their bodies bled dry through a series of small circular incisions . THe Chupacabra had struck again On Friday, May 21,2010 about 8:15 A.M. in Callahan County, TX on FM 604 (North of Hwy 36) close to Lake Clyde, My Mother and I saw a very strange animal cross the road as we were down the country lane to email received from Dawn Thursday, June 3, 2010 12:28 AM Many have seen the Chupacabra !!!! In July 2004, a rancher near San Antonio , killed a hairless dog -like creature, which was attacking his livestock.. In October 2004, two more carcasses were found in the same area. In Coleman, Texas , a farmer named Reggie Lagow caught an animal in a trap he set up after the deaths of a number of his chickens and turkeys. The animal was described as resembling a mix of hairless dog, RAT AND KANGAROO . Lagow provided the animal to Texas Parks and Wildlife officials for identification, but Lagow reported in a September 17, 2006 phone interview with John Adolfi, founder of the Lost World Museum, that the "critter was caught on a Tuesday and thrown out in Thursday's trash." Leaving No evidence to be examined !!! In April 2006, MosNews reported that the chupacabra was spotted in Russia for the first time. Reports beginning in March 2005 tell of a beast that kills animals and sucks out their blood. Thirty-two turkeys were killed and drained overnight. Reports later came from neighboring villages when 30 sheep were killed and had their blood drained. Finally, eyewitnesses were able to describe the chupacabra. In May 2006, experts were determined to track the animal down. In mid-August 2006, Michelle O'Donnell of Turner, Maine , described an "evil looking" rodent-like animal with fangs that had been found dead alongside a road. The animal was apparently struck by a car, and was unidentifiable. Photographs were taken and witness reports seem to be in relative agreement that the creature was canine in appearance, but in widely published photos seemed unlike any dog or wolf in the area. It was reported that "the carcass was picked clean by Vultures before experts could examine it". For years, residents of Maine have reported a mysterious creature and a string of dog maulings. In May 2007, a series of reports on national Columbia news reported more than 300 dead sheep in the region of Boyaca and the capture of a possible specimen to be analyzed By the National University of Columbia. In August 2007, Phylis Canion found three animals in Cuero, Texas . She and her neighbors reported to have discovered three strange animal carcasses outside Canion's property. She took photographs of the carcasses and preserved the head of one in her freezer before turning it over for DNA analysis. Canion reported that nearly 30 chickens on her farm had been DRAINED OF ALL BLOOD !!!! On January 11, 2008, a sighting was reported at the province of Capiz in the Phillipines . Some of the residents believed that it was the chupacabra that killed eight chickens. The owner of the chickens saw a dog-like animal attacking his chickens. On August 8, 2008, a De Witt County deputy, Brandon Riedel, filmed an unidentifiable animal along back roads near Cuero, Texas on his dashboard camera. The animal was about the size of a coyote but was hairless with a long snout, short front legs and long back legs, WHY DO AUTHORITIES COVERUP THE SIGHTINGS ???? CHUPACABRA LOOKS LIKE A DEMON FROM HELL The Chupacabra is a REPTILIAN type creature, appearing to have leathery or scaly greenish-gray skin and sharp spines or quills running down its back. This form stands approximately 3 to 4 feet (1 to 1.2 m) high, and stands and hops in a similar fashion to a Kangaroo In at least one sighting, the creature was reported to hop 20 feet (6 m). This variety is said to have a dog or PANTHER -like nose and face, a FORKED TONGUE , and large fangs. It is said to hiss and screech when alarmed, as well as leave behind a SULFURIC stench. When it screeches, some reports assert that the chupacabra's eyes glow an unusual red which gives the witnesses nausea. Others describe the Chupacabra, as a strange breed of wild dog. This form is mostly hairless and has a pronounced spinal ridge, unusually pronounced eye sockets, fangs, and claws. It is claimed that this breed might be an example of a dog-like reptile. Unlike conventional predators, the chupacabra is said to drain all of the animal's blood (and sometimes organs) through a single hole or two holes. email received from Darrin Sunday, January 24, 2010 12:13 AM Here at Chupacabra Sightings we are dedicated to solving the Mystery of the Mythacal Beast If you have any pictures or info click here to send it to us. All credible sightings will be published

Posted by: Loren Coleman on May 31st, 2007 New video footage, apparently somewhat compelling, from Loch Ness has been taken by a scientist, Gordon Holmes. Cryptomundo has technically been unable to upload the video, but you can view it here. [Update: The reported broken link, noted in early comments, has been corrected.] Below is Holmes at the site of his filming. Gordon Holmes told the Yorkshire Post I was sat in a lay-by about 70ft above the loch – it was 10pm but the sun was still shining on the mountains on the other side. I was minutes from going home and I had only gone up there to relax and enjoy the view when I saw something moving on the surface of the water so I dashed to get the camera. It wasn’t a wave because it was going in the opposite direction to the waves that I could see and the top half of it seemed to be black. My camcorder was on a black and white setting and it took me a while to find it again in the water, but I’ve got two-and-half-minutes of footage which I have shown to experts and they think it is definitely a living creature. I have always been interested in science, astronomy and the unknown. I have an open mind about the monster. I know they’re have been around 1,600 sightings over the years and people claim to have seen something which they can’t describe because they have never seen anything like it before. I originally thought it looked about 4 ft to 6 ft long but I think it may have been larger than that, one onlooker in the shop said he thought he could see a fin. At its closest point it was about 100 yards away from me. It seemed to be travelling faster than a human could walk.Gordon Holmes Dr. Henry Bauer, while wondering at first if it might be a wind-driven wave, noted the length of the footage (2.5 minutes) seems to indicate against such a theory. Also, the darker coloring appears to show it is not being caused by the surface wind. To some it suggests an otter, a sturgeon, an eel, or an unknown cryptid. What do you see in the footage? Loren Coleman is one of the world’s leading cryptozoologists, some say “the” leading. Certainly, he is acknowledged as the current living American researcher and writer who has most popularized cryptozoology in the late 20th and early 21st centuries. Starting his fieldwork and investigations in 1960, after traveling and trekking extensively in pursuit of cryptozoological mysteries, Coleman began writing to share his experiences in 1969. An honorary member of Ivan T. Sanderson’s Society for the Investigation of the Unexplained in the 1970s, Coleman has been bestowed with similar honorary memberships of the North Idaho College Cryptozoology Club in 1983, and in subsequent years, that of the British Columbia Scientific Cryptozoology Club, CryptoSafari International, and other international organizations. He was also a Life Member and Benefactor of the International Society of Cryptozoology (now-defunct). Loren Coleman’s daily blog, as a member of the Cryptomundo Team, served as an ongoing avenue of communication for the ever-growing body of cryptozoo news from 2005 through 2013.

I am filming a movie. Please check it out – I am working on filming a REALLY low budget movie over the next year. We have a website and a FaceBook page. Please check us out. I hope you will "Like" us on FaceBook. It is called "The Cryptid" I have a great cast and we are still working on the script. I would like your support from all my haunt friends out there. I really value your opinion. Not much on our website yet, but some info on the FaceBook page. Founding Board Member I.A.H.A. Author "The Complete Haunted House Book" We'll make your house everything you've ever HAUNTED!

Ever walked a trail in the forest, after listening to David Paulides talk about disappearances? In the back of your mind … the stories are there and every step you take, every breath you make, lingers in slow motion because it’s the, “what if,” scenario that makes your pulse quicken while your eyes dart around for any sudden movement or sound. A hike in the forest will never be the same. Michael and I enjoy walks and we try to visit our forest friends as often as we can. This particular walk for both of us was a bit sobering. As researchers, we know what might be out there and we also know surprises can lurk around any corner. The majesty of the trees, the sound of the river racing along, can make a person forget to be vigilant because let’s face it, we go on hikes to relax, not to stress ourselves out. The big question is if we think about Sasquatch, Dogman or the mystery Cryptid, Michael coined, Creature X, do we attract them to us? What if the little elemental sprites, faeries are running around, will they know we come in peace? The darkness and its shadowy minions can play havoc on our fears, so what happens when and if our paths cross? The day was just like any other day, here in Oregon, bright and lovely, the clouds seemed to almost dip down and touch us, and the path was one of the best we have seen, almost like it was cleared and laid out just for us. So, why was I nervous? This was our first time in this particular forest so it felt a little intimidating, at least for me. We took apples, granola bars and a note for Warsiah. We usually leave something for the Sasquatch every time we go on a hike. The trail was just beautiful with tall trees and amazing smells. We were the only people on the trail so it felt like we were in our own piece of paradise. Twenty minutes into the hike, we both noticed that there were no birds or squirrels to be seen … anywhere. I stated that this was odd to Michael and he agreed. My mind was racing and I was trying to remember what I was told by my benefactors years ago when they told me what birds being quiet meant. Was it a warning? I had the impression that literally no squirrels lived in this forest and maybe that is a possibility but I’ve never known this to be. And besides that, I really didn’t notice any bugs flying around. It was if we were in a forest that had no animals living in it at all. So, was this a vortex we were in? This is the only answer that seems to check most of the boxes in my mind, except, I didn’t notice any weird smells or electricity in the air. After about almost an hour, we heard our first bird but never saw any squirrels. We didn’t even see a bird flying around, only heard them. I reasoned that maybe this was because the trees were so tall, maybe the birds were up high but even still, when birds aren’t around, that definitely is alarming. We then heard a noise, it sounded like a footstep to our left, further back where some trees were down. We started to walk and again, there was that same noise that sounded like a step, almost like someone or something was following us. We heard other sounds but the footsteps seemed to be the most unsettling. After we heard the steps, we decided to walk a bit further and then turn around. We found a secret place to put the apples and other goodies for Warsiah (our Oregonian Sasquatch contact) and we started back. On the way back, I thought of all the missing people who started off just like we did but never made it back home. Does awareness of beings in the forest guarantee a safe journey back to the car? I don’t really know, but one thing I do know is that hikes for Michael and I, as much as we love them, will always be a bit precarious now. After all, the first step on any trail either leads to the desired destination or one that is unexpected. Just remember, we really aren’t alone in the forests, maybe we never really were but thanks to the hard work of David Paulides and others, we now know to be awake and aware. Happy and safe trails.

The W.A.T.C.H. is a tabletop role-playing game in which the players become paranormal investigators and cryptid hunters seeking evidence to prove or debunk sightings and encounters that have been reported to the agency. The easy-to-learn mechanics and character creation allow new players to quickly get into the game while still providing the flexibility to adjust to different styles of play. As a... [click here for more] Looking for a way to have character info readily available and an easy way to track initiative?These character strips include places for all of the stats a DM needs to watch during a sessions and has a fold-over name plate. The strips can be hung on the DM screen to allow quick reference and allow players to see when their characters are up in initiative. The file... [click here for more] This zine is a terrifying collection of scenarios and game content for use in your eldritch horror games, all lovingly illustrated to fuel your dreams and nightmares! If you like Lovecraftian fiction, horror games, and unspeakable monsters that twist reality itself, you'll love this project. Table of Contents: Terror in the Berkshires - System-agnostic investigative horror scenario Arachnophobia... [click here for more] This adventure is based on actual cryptid encounters in Elkhorn, WI. In 1936, a large, bipedal creature was sighted along Bray Road in Elkhorn, WI. The report stated that it stood 6-7 feet tall and had distinctive canine features much like a wolf walking on its hind legs. Since that initial encounter, numerous other sightings have occured in the surrounding area. Investigations to date have turned... [click here for more] This adventure is based on actual cryptid encounters and legends. When a group of travellers breakdown along the Mohawk Trail on their way to North Adams, MA, they find themselves facing a series of events and creatures from local folklore. From the famous Hairpin Turn to the Hoosac Tunnel—nicknamed The Bloody Pit during it's construction—the players can follow the clues to unravel the truth about... [click here for more] The Town of Mariston is built upon a tiered landscape that physically divides the districts. From the parade grounds of lofty Overlook to the industry of Lower Mariston, this mini-setting provides a brief history of the town, some points of interest, and a collection of NPCs for use in your adventures. The setting is designed to easily drop in to any campaign as new location with minimal effort but... [click here for more] Taverns & Inns Map Collection Whether the party is looking for work, returning from a quest, or simply travelling, they are guaranteed to go looking for a tavern or inn eventually. This map pack offers 6 unique taverns/inns in various environments. All maps are available with and without grids and are suitable for use in VTTs or Printing. You may use these maps for both... [click here for more] Imagination and skill have gotten me through many tough spots. Anvils and luck took care of the rest. - Mortimer Akmei Akmei's Spellbook is a set wizard spells and artifacts for 5e based on common gags from classic cartoons. If you have every wished your mage could summon anvils from thin air to crush their enemies or make an escape through a hastily painted tunnel then this is the spellbook you've... [click here for more]

Tasty News: New Improvised Comedy Podcast THE MONSTER LINE Puts The Cryptid Scare in Funny Ghosts and ghouls will be out in full force soon enough. Why not pre-empt that time with a new Halloween-friendly podcast! QCODE and Wood Elf (my gaming handles, j/k) have joined forces to bring you THE MONSTER LINE, an improvised comedy podcast starring Adal Rifai (Hello From The Magic Tavern) and Katelyn Hempstead (Lizard People). If you are into productions like What We Do in The Shadows, John Wick, or Men in Black (interesting combo), then this pod should be right up your alley. From what we’ve gathered, the podcast takes place in a town in Pacific Northwest where every monster, cryptid, urban legend, and things that go bump in the night, commune together in peace and harmony. Claire Dermond, a suburban Werewolf (Katelyn Hempstead), and Daniel Pier, a Vortal who’s Half Vampire/Half Mortal (Adal Rifai), have recently devoted their lives to helping solve the mundane cryptid problems of their mini-metropolis through a new venture called The Monster Line. During each completely improvised episode, a new cryptid stops by “The Monster” Line offices to air their grievances and ask for help. Of course, not everyone is on board with this cryptid endeavor because there are government types trying to keep Claire and Daniel’s work under wraps. Check out the first two episodes HERE! Mentions: New episodes of The Monster Line drop every Tuesday. Listen wherever you get your podcasts (ie. Qcode, Spotify, Google podcasts, Overcast, Castbox, Pocket Casts, Radio Public, Amazon Music & more). Upcoming guests include Brian Huskey, Will Hines, Pam Murphy, Mark McConville, Patrick McDonald and Anna Salinas!

Thursday after school, before Louise and Davis even began their trek to the mines, the twins Dom and Clarice had arrived at Kirino’s home. She had only spoken once to them all school day, an outlier with their usual friendship. It was at lunch, she approached them; “I need your help with something extremely important. The future of this town hangs on it all. I’ll have somebody pick you up after school.” The driveway and helipad were empty, the front door invitingly left open. The twins walked in, side by side. This hadn’t been the first time they were invited over, but Dom was still shuddering at what Kirino’s words meant. “You don’t think that girl in the library is threatening her or bullying her?” Clarice scoffed. “I already told you, no way Kirino can be bullied around by anyone. If she’s this serious about something, though, I really don’t know what to expect.” Dom shirked back slightly. “This is gonna be dangerous then, huh?” “We don’t know that just yet. Have some trust in her.” Repeating that in his head, Dom sucked in a deep breath, pushing away the stress. They walked through the foyer and into the living room, where Kirino had pushed out all of the furniture. She was sitting in a single chair in her flowy outfit she fought in before. In front of her was a coffee table with a greatsword and what looked like a backpack-stove hybrid sitting upon it. The greatsword itself was longer than the table, hilt and tip hanging off the edges. The backpack had a stone-lined hole in the center of it, looking like a furnace opening. In the corner was Scott, leaning against the wall, smiling. On his waist was an ominous looking oil lamp. It looked like a small brass cage, the glass to contain the flames shaped into a disfigured skull. He waved to the two. Dom waved back nervously, Clarice staring at the setup. Kirino nodded her head. “Thank you for coming up here. Please, take a seat.” She motioned towards the couch, which was set up across from her. The two complied, sitting down. “So, what do you mean the fate of the town hangs on what you’re doing? You’re not pulling us into something illegal, right?” Clarice questioned. “I want to ask you something first.” She stared back coldly. “Do you believe in being able to take control of your destiny with your own two hands?” Clarice stared back confused. Dom opened and closed his mouth a few times, before finally speaking up. “That’s how it’s supposed to be, right? We work hard to get to uh… A nice job, and continue from there, right? As long as the job is good enough and aligns with your passion.” Kirino nodded. “Yet that is not a constant in life. Your success and goals are always going to depend on somebody above you, rather than your own work.” She stood up, beginning to pace back and forth. “If a student or worker shows more ambition and effort than their superiors, that is taken as a threat, instead of respected. Yet despite how threatening that ambition is to them, all it takes is malicious ignorance for a superior to ensure their security, and the stagnation of their peers.” She paused, returning to her seat. “Considering my parents’ positions as tech CEOs, I’ve seen their status overshadow so much ambition and talent, mine included. My work is more than just the fate of this town. It’s ensuring that concept will change, so in the face of greater ambition, one will have to acknowledge it, and step aside.” Clarice shook her head. “Kirino, be serious. I know you’re competent at everything, but how do you even expect to pull off such a feat?” She stood up again, this time revealing a katana at her hip. “There’s an entirely unseen world out there, that’s ready to meet with ours. It’s unbelievable, but I’m sure this is to help convince you.” She walked out the back door, and beckoned the duo to follow. They obeyed, and Scott tagged along behind them. He nudged Dom with his elbow. “You’re gonna love what she’s gonna do.” He muttered silently. As the others watched, Kirino walked near a tall oak tree, planted far from the property. Scott pulled a pair of sunglasses from his jacket, putting them on. She reached for the katana, causing Dom to lurch back in fear, Clarice watching intently. The most they could catch was her barely pulling the blade from its sheath. A flash of light blinded the two, and a thunderous CRACK shook the ground. As they regained their vision and hearing, Kirino was standing on the other side of the tree, sheathing the blade. Scott put his glasses away, smiling at the spectacle. The plant itself looked like it had been struck by lightning; Bark peeled downwards in a zig-zag motion, revealing a smoldering inside. “Wh-what just happened?” yelled Dom. “Kirino, this has to be some test right? Like trying to figure out how you did this… trick or something. Yea?” Scott giggled to himself. “What I have here is called the Dragontail Katana. It’s an artifact that allows me to turn into lightning, for either attacking or maneuvering. It has been essential in my recent work.” Clarice squinted. “You’ve gotta be pulling my leg…” Dom ran over to inspect the tree closer. He slowly reached near the smoldering cracks, finding it was indeed hot, and not any sort of visual trick. He scanned all around the tree, searching the grass for any sort of hidden cables as well. “This can’t be…” He turned to his sister. “The only way a tree can really look like this so…” He waved his hands around. “Specifically, is like she said, if lightning struck it. I’ve read about this happening before.” He turned back, running his fingers along the lines. “Unless she had hidden some high-powered generator or discharged a bunch of electricity from a battery… but even then I don’t think it’s something she can just so easily replicate…” Kirino smiled at the boy’s hypothesis. “I can promise you, this is no trick. And there’s far more than just this.” “So magic is real?” The twins said in unison. Dom said it with excitement, while Clarice in disbelief. Scott grinned. “Fill em in on the rest of it!” Kirino glared at her rowing partner for a moment, then turned her focus back to the twins. “For several months now, with this katana I have been both hunting UMA, unidentified mysterious animals, and these powerful artifacts. These UMA are aberrations of nature, monstrous, and threaten humans as well. They can be as simple as a massive winged humanoid who abducts people from their cars late at night, to house-sized monsters capable of flight. I have been working for a very secretive employer, one who’s entire relationship I’m risking even speaking to you two.” “So you’re like some secret agent?” Dom spoke. “Or a huntress protecting the world from monsters?” Clarice added. “Neither. My goals are beyond my employer’s understanding, and it’s for changing the world as we know it. Ambition should be rewarded, not stifled, and these artifacts.” She held up her sheathed blade. “They’re the key to them. However, I need his utmost trust for any of this to happen.” “Now, it wasn’t until recently that I began having some problems…” She stared off in the distance, towards the rest of Tomahawk Hills. “In the past few months, more and more UMA have been approaching this town. This wouldn’t be an issue, if their proximity to the town didn’t invite a new interference.” She turned back to the twins. “You remember that girl from the library?” Their eyes widened at the mention. “Louise Palrick, and her friend Davis Foster have also taken up trying to hunt these UMA. She managed to get her hands on an artifact: A pair of gauntlets that grant her strength and durability. The boy also possesses one as well, though I don’t fully understand it just yet.” “Shouldn’t that make your work easier if you work with them?” asked Dom. She shook her head. “I wish it were so, but there are major issues in the way. Her methods of hunting are immature and wild. She is not qualified to work with me, and would cause far more trouble than help.” She gritted her teeth at the memory with the Hydra. “Not to mention, her actions go directly against what my employer wishes.” She leaned in closer to the two. “And being on good terms with my employer is far more important than anything else right now. If I lose his favor, the entire future of this town would be put in jeopardy.” She took a step back, exhaling. The two shuddered at the statement. While Kirino was strict with study and schoolwork, they had never seen her this intense before. “And because this is all secretive, you can’t really seek anywhere else for help?” questioned Clarice. She nodded. “It should have been my responsibility alone to carry this out, but I cannot keep it up. I repeat myself for seriousness’s sake: I cannot fail.” She took a deep breath, relaxing herself. “But you two, along with Scott. I trust you all as equals, and know your potential. So I ask: Knowing all this, and the potential danger that entails, will you assist me in hunting UMA, and dealing with Louise?” Scott piped up. “If you say yes, she has something neat she’ll give you!” “Quiet Scott.” She barked. “Continuing, I will not let you both go into this unequipped. I will provide you with artifacts of your own, and assist you with learning how to utilize them. But even so, your lives will be at risk.” “But your whole revolutionary plan, about the meeting of this unseen world with ours. Are you going to elaborate more on that?” Clarice questioned. “If you do not wish to be a part of this world, then I cannot inform you of my plans. But I hope with our long friendship, you can trust me; I want to take this new world by the reins to ensure no chaotic fallout, and improve society as a whole with that power.” Clarice pondered for a moment, before standing up. “I trust you. If this world does exist, of UMA or monsters or whatever they’re called, and they’re beyond our control, we need to figure out how to do so. Plus, that Louise girl always seemed like a big troublemaker. I’ll be more than happy to help deal with her.” Dom slowly stood up. “I…” He swallowed. “We don’t have to seriously kill Louise, right? Or commit any other sort of crime? This is secretive stuff, I know, but I really don’t want to do anything terrible.” She nodded. “The only killing you will assist me with would be UMA, and they pose an undeniable threat to this town. For Louise, I only hope at most to confiscate her artifact. With her means of combating UMA gone, she would no longer interfere.” “Okay… I think I can help!” Cheer returned to his voice. “It’s gotta be a nice change of pace than studying all day I guess?” She smiled, sighing. She was happy even with such a wild story, her friends believed and supported her. She beckoned the three to follow her, returning to the living room. “From my work, I have been able to keep a few artifacts for myself, unbeknownst to my employer. I could have been paid lucratively for delivering them, but they will have so much more value in your hands.” She stared at both of them, standing in front of the table. “Before I give you them, I need to warn you: NEVER use them in public, be far out of sight of anyone when you wish to practice with them. Never fight with them for personal squabbles. If any word about these artifacts gets loose, you’ll be in serious danger. Last, regarding Louise: Be wary. Do not seek her out, nor should you seek any conflict with her just yet. If you are ever forced into a confrontation with her, even if it seems advantageous, stay vigilant. There is a lot about her and her friend I do not understand fully, and that is the most dangerous fact of them.” She turned to Clarice. “For you, I have an artifact from the late 1400s, Queen Isabella’s Inquisition. It’s made of an unknown, super durable material that can change its sharpness and density at will. To its wielder, it will always feel as light as a feather. I have read records about how knights christened by the blade fight with unwavering bravery. I’m not sure how it works, but I trust you can figure it out.” She motioned for the girl to pick up the blade. The sword was more ceremonial than practical. The pommel and hilt were made of gold. The blade was embossed with strange gold symbols, and a winged golden cross protruded near the tip of the blade. She picked it up, feeling it around. It was as light as a pen. Kirino pointed out the back door. “I have a few training dummies set out back for you. Please, test it out, and get comfortable with it.” She hurried out, testing a few swings on the dummy. It nicked the wood, but no clean cuts. “How does this density changing thing work?” She yelled at Kirino. She tapped her head. “Most of these artifacts are controlled by thoughts. Simply think and use it enough, and it’ll become innate.” Turning back to her wooden foe, she imagined the blade being as dense as uranium as she swung downwards. The blade smashed straight through the wood like it was nothing. It slammed and embedded itself into the concrete patio, cracking the foundation. Her eyes bugged out of her head. “This is incredible…” To another dummy, she imagined the blade as sharp as obsidian, and swung horizontally. It passed effortlessly through the wood, the top half falling to the ground. She stared at the massive blade in amazement. Still, I’d need to learn more proper swordplay if I’m to fight properly with it. Her amazement began to fade. What if I’m to fight a monster which would overwhelm me? A simple sword can’t protect me well enough? Thinking about protecting herself, her sword reacted. She felt it shake, and it sparked. Wings of metal jutted out of the side, the guard expanded and metal shrieked. Metal expanded out of seemingly nowhere, filling out the wings and more, the screeching ringing out. Her blade had now become almost twice as wide as she was. She grinned. Holding the artifact in front of her, she imagined the blade launching out at a distant foe. Nothing happened. She huffed. Still, with practice, I can make up for its range issue. Staring at the weapon, she then realized what she could do: With this and the ability to change its density, she had an immovable, unscratchable shield. With its form change, she had another idea: She imagined the blade to become more portable. Metal shrieked, and the blade returned to its regular size, and then the blade retracted into the guard. The guard itself clamped shut, and shrank down more, until it was the size of a pen. She smiled as she fit it perfectly in her front pocket. “Kirino, you are going to train us with these more, right?” “Soon. For now, I want you to build a proper connection with your artifacts. Then, we can work on swordplay.” She turned to Dom, who had been watching his sister’s feats in amazement. “As for you, Dom, your artifact is known as a Wonderbuilder. This pack contains a set of ancient, yet magical construction equipment. With it, you will be able to cut through and move around chunks of earth and stone as your imagination will permit. It also has powerful built-in armor, which should keep you safe as well. Like your sister, I want you to practice with it, until you build a connection with it.” Dom nervously put on the pack, clicking together the strange bark-like straps around his chest and waist. Nothing happened, but there was a valve-like switch in the center of it all. He twisted it, and the device began to shake and sputter. He felt it grow hotter, and a plume of smoke shot out of the iron pipes. Green vine-like cables crept up his arms, and a pair of bronze gloves grew around his hands. Two harpoon launchers popped out and mounted themselves on his shoulders. His mind was panicking, but it was offset by the sheer wonder he had over the artifact. He clenched his fist. An image formed in his mind about how to utilize the gear he was now wearing. Making a gesture with his right hand, a stone saw made of wood and steel popped out of the pack, following his arm movements. He laughed nervously. “It’s like… Weird. Does this thing have some brain interface? I think I get how to use it…” He sheepishly smiled. “I don’t really want to ruin your home or yard however…” “There are plenty of abandoned places around here to practice, but for now, I ask to work on understanding each of the tools without using them. Wonderbuilder runs on raw iron, wood, and stone, and these materials can run out. I promise you, I am looking for a new source of these.” Dom smiled, nodding. “I promise Kirino, we’re going to do our best for you!” He turned to Scott. “Wait… What did you get Scott?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’d show off, but I don’t wanna waste his time.” Kirino stepped next to the two. “Once you finish practicing, I will fill you in on the rest: Louise, Davis, the monsters, and everything you will need to know. Then soon, I’ll have a mission for you both.” “Not only are you trespassing, you’ve caused irreparable damage to a historical landmark, and who knows what else!” Clarice’s shrill voice ripped through the abandoned town. The sun was lighting the sky a bright red, long shadows from the surrounding forest being cast upon the group. Clarice stared down at the two, hands on her hips. Dom stuck close behind her, wearing Wonderbuilder, while Scott strolled closer. Louise scrambled to her feet, yanking Davis up with her. “Well I don’t see your badge or anything. What are you gonna do? Arrest me?” She grinned smugly. “I thought this area was off limits for everyone, you included.” Davis muttered back. Clarice’s face flushed more red. “Unlike YOU two, we at least got proper permission to be here! Permits and everything” Scott stepped between the two duos. “Now now, you two must be Louise and Davis, right?” He held out his hand. “My name is Scott Felice. I’ve heard about you two quite a bit from Kirino.” Davis reached out his hand to shake, but Louise swatted it down. “He’s in league with her too?” she grabbed her head. “Why does everyone I meet end up being in that brat’s pocket!” “Woah woah, that’s a bit rude!” Scott said, holding his hands in front of him. “I’m simply her friend, and here to help her out with a few favors, all right? No need to get angry at each other.” She still glared daggers at him. “Y-yeah…” Dom stepped from behind his sister. “I’m Dom! Dom Castillo! That’s my sister, Clarice, and I don’t really wanna fight or anything.” She gave her brother a death stare. “See, now we all know each other, cool? All I’m saying, is that we can just walk away from this little meeting fine. No need to get angry and fight, we can go about our business separately.” “Are you kidding me?” Clarice groaned. “First, they interfered with Kirino’s work, now they’re causing needless damage here! We can’t sit around and do nothing about this!” “Hey, this wasn’t done lightly!” Davis piped up. “I don’t know what Kirino said, but whatever was down there is best left buried.” “What was down there then?” Dom questioned. Davis paused, thinking how to word it. “A lot of gold, but it was evil!” Louise interjected. He squinted at the two. He leaned close to his sister. “I trust Kirino in this monster stuff, but evil gold doesn’t really fit anything she told us about…” She nodded, whispering in turn. “Sounds like a lie they’re using to cover up something. We really can’t let them start blowing stuff up because they think it’s haunted.” From her front pocket, she pulled out her blade’s hilt. With a thought, it snapped open, expanding into a blade as tall as she was. Dom turned Wonderbuilder’s valve, feeling the ancient piece of equipment wrap around his body. It sputtered and spewed out a burst of smoke. “The crimes committed and all the disruption you caused, I’m not gonna stand here and do nothing about it!” Clarice boasted. Dom stood as firm as he could, but even with Wonderbuilder supporting him, he was shaking. His heart was racing and stomach cramping from the nerve of it all. “I-I… I really don’t want to hurt you two! So please surrender!” He winced to himself, thinking he didn’t sound intimidating at all. Scott hung his head in disappointment. “Are you two really sure about all this?” Davis stepped back in fear, Louise taking a step forward. “So not only does Kirino think SHE gets to be the main hero for hunting cryptids, but she’s also hoarding artifacts for herself, huh?” She punched her hand into her fist. “Bring it on then!” Davis ran between them. “I seriously don’t want to fight any of you, could we just take Scott’s offer and-” Clarice stabbed her sword into the ground, cracking the packed dirt. The blade began to shimmer. Keeping a hand on the hilt, she pointed at the two. “Dom Castillo, I christen thee as my knight! Fight with a spirit as unwavering as my blade!” Dom felt energy rush through his body. He stopped shaking, straightened his back, and shifted his legs to take on a stronger stance. He took a powerful stomp forward, his mind growing more clear on who the two standing in front of him were. Sure, they were his classmates, but more importantly, they were troublemakers that needed to be subdued and disarmed. The worry on his face transformed into a smirk. He gestured with his right hand. A pile-driver looking device popped out of the pack, held by a wooden arm. He leapt forward unexpectedly fast, aiming for Louise. She tackled Davis to the ground as the boy soared over them. The driver struck the rubble of the collapsed mineshaft behind them. The explosive force shattered several of the stones, and even dug out a small indent. The impact shook out fresh rubble from the cave, burying him. The duo scrambled to their feet as Clarice stared dumbfounded at her brother’s actions. Scott sighed. “Look, if you cause TOO much trouble, I’ll intervene. But you two are on your own on this one.” He simply walked far out of the way, leaning against a building. There was a sudden flood of smoke from the buried Dom, and Davis grabbed Louise, ghosting with her in tow. Dom managed to punch his way out of the landslide, sending a flurry of rubble and debris to where the two previously stood. Seeing her brother again, Clarice sighed, regaining her confident expression. The duo re-materialized a few inches to the side, Davis coughing on his knees. Louise patted him on the back. “Take a quick breather, I think I have to handle Dom. You try to figure out a way to deal with miss wannabe cop over there.” “Wait, we should really just run-” Dom was above the two of them, this time with a sawblade aimed right at her head. She managed to catch the device with her hands, shooting a flurry of sparks and letting out a horrendous screeching noise. Each tooth of the blade eventually snapped off as it struck her armored hands. She gripped the dull disk as tightly as she could and pulled, yanking the arm right out from the pack. She tossed it aside, and tackled the boy. Davis shook off the shock and got back to his feet, though quickly noticed: Where did Clarice go? He spun around, finding her sword’s handle closing in on his face. After the tackle, Louise turned tail and blew into a full blown sprint. She checked behind her as Dom leapt back to his feet, beginning pursuit. She smiled to herself. Pretty dumb of you to leave your sister out to dry like that! Traversing through the dirt streets long enough, she spun around to face her opponent, skidding to a stop. Dom made a gesture with his hand, launching a cabled iron spike from the shoulder mounted harpoon. It zoomed past Louise, missing her by a few feet. She turned to see where it flew. It pierced the walls of an old home, and the cable sprung taught. She turned back, finding the boy being towed towards her through the harpoon. He clotheslined her, knocking her down to the ground. He cut his momentum, detaching the harpoon from the wall and skidding a few yards from the downed Louise. Another quick motion of his hands, and the pile driver popped out. He sprinted towards her as she tried to get back onto her feet, rearing back and striking Louise in the chest. She gritted her teeth as the pole slammed her into the floor. The spike didn’t break her skin, but the force behind it shook every bone in her body. She didn’t know what it would feel like to be hit by a truck, but this would certainly be comparable. She reared back her feet and kicked towards his chest. When they struck, a force pushed back. The Wonderbuilder roared, spewing out fire from behind. A blast of steam expulsed from the vines that protected his chest. He smirked, unphased by her attempt, rearing back another blow with the pile driver. She lunged up, grabbing the tool and wrestling it to the side. The pole shunted downwards, striking the air to her side. She could feel a rush of air to her side from the tool’s power. She flipped Dom to the ground, and quickly stomped at the shaft of the driver. It splintered off, and she wasted no time kickin it away from her opponent. “Come on, keep showing me your toys! Lemme smash every single one of them!” Dom still kept his confident smirk, leaping up to his feet. Seeing an opportunity, Louise threw a punch straight at his chest. Her fist met with with another blast of steam, just barely stopping her from making contact. More flames and smoke spewed out of the artifact on his back. He responded by grabbing her arm, and swinging her into a nearby brick building. She slammed against the stone walls, cracking the material. She fell off the wall, dazed, as he prepared a new motion with his hands. A small voice in his head caused him to freeze. It was Clarice’s voice. Dom! Watch what you’re doing! It should be obvious, but we’re not to stoop to their property-destroying level! He nodded to himself. When he returned focus to Louise, she had tackled him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She noted that there was no steam in response to her attack. Still gripping onto him, she looked him in the eye. “I think I’m getting the tricks of this dumb suit you got here. I don’t suppose you have anything that can deal with good old fashioned grappling, huh?” He made a motion with his hand, and another sawblade popped from the pack. It grazed against her shoulder. Feeling the sting of the high-powered tool, Louise pushed herself off the boy. She skipped back several feet, panting. Time seemingly slowed down for her as she processed how to deal with her foe. Her thoughts were cut off when Dom abruptly fled. “What, you too scared I figured out your…” She realized he was returning to where Clarice and Davis were. Davis had barely rolled out of the way of Clarice’s attack, and the two were staring each other down. She was sizing up the mysterious boy, watching for any sort of twitch that would indicate an attack. Davis’s brain was racking how to most effectively flee. Clarice rested the blade on her shoulder. “If you’re just going to keep on standing there, you might as well surrender!” Davis’s eyebrow twitched. “Hey, you’re the one who started this!” Sure, he had caltrops but they would be too obvious. Any of his bombs could hurt Clarice pretty badly, and he didn’t want to think about that. The most he could use was his smoke bombs, but that wouldn’t do much on it’s own. He heard a crash in the distance behind him. His heart shook, thinking about how his friend was faring. An idea sprouted. If she was willing to talk… “Just call your brother off, he’s gonna kill Louise! Are you really going to kill somebody just for some property damage?” Clarice scoffed. “I’m already very well informed about you two. Kirino with her Dragontail was barely able to come on top.” She pointed her blade menacingly. “If either of us is to stand a chance, we can’t show any restraint or hesitation.” Dragontail? Her katana? These weapons have names? I wonder if that could be a lead. “Yeah but… I’m not as sturdy as she is! I mean, I can turn into a ghost… But not actually dead! I’m not a ghost, but like that you cant see or hurt me! Outside of that, I’m only as sturdy as a regular human. If I screw up dodging, I’m as good as dead!” She sighed, shaking her head. “Perhaps you should think of that more when you play around such dangerous UMA. Lucky for you, I’m more considerate ” She focused on her blade, imagining it to be as hefty as a wooden baton, and dulling the edges. “Now this shouldn’t kill you, but it WILL still hurt. If you hand over your artifact, I’ll let you go without bruising you up!” “Artifact? I don’t have any to give! I swear I was born this-.” She lurched forward, swinging the blade horizontally towards him. He stumbled backwards, avoiding the attack but landing on his bottom. Clarice grinned. She raised the weapon up, and swung down at his head. With no way out, he ghosted. The blade struck the dirt, kicking up a cloud of dust. She quickly brought the blade up close to her, scanning her surroundings. He became corporeal once more several feet behind Clarice, hoping to sneak away. His lungs however, were burning and begging for air. He held his hands to his mouth, trying to stifle the coughs, but they still burst through. Clarice whirled around to his direction, swinging horizontally. Out of instinct, he ghosted again. His lungs continued to burn and his eyes were watering. Still incorporeal, he reached into his jacket. Clarice, meanwhile, was patiently keeping her ears and eyes open, trying to anticipate where her opponent would re-appear. Right behind her, she heard a hissing. She spun, seeing a canister spewing smoke. Her eyes widened, and she willed her blade to grow denser. She planted it in front of her, and the wings of metal jutted out. Metal shrieked as the blade expanded in width, entering its shield form. The canister exploded, thankfully not with fire, but with a plume of pitch black smoke. She pulled her sword from the ground, returning it to its regular size and baton-like state, and covered her mouth with her shirt.. It didn’t smell or seem toxic. If it was, Clarice mused that the boy would have done this trick immediately. She heard a hacking and coughing from beyond the smoke, followed by a sniffle. Then, Davis’s voice. “I wouldn’t move from there if I were you…” He cleared his throat. “I’ve scattered caltrops all around where you’re standing. I don’t want to hurt you at all, so please don’t move until the smoke is cleared. Let me leave peacefully, all right?” She clenched her teeth. He could be bluffing… But even if he is, I’m stuck. I can’t charge blindly out of this smoke… He could counter if I do so… I need help! Davis was not too far outside of the plume of smoke, leaning against a building trying to recover his breath. His chest felt like it had been freed from a hydraulic press. There wasn’t much wind, so hopefully his gambit would last just long enough for him to regain his breath and get out of there. A voice spoke from within his jacket. It was the walkie talkie. “DAVIS, THE OTHER ONE IS COMING RIGHT BACK TOWARDS YOU!” He perked up, adrenaline flooding his system. He whipped around to find Dom barreling towards him. He got tackled to the ground as the boy pinned him to the ground. Dom and the magical piece of equipment on his back created an inescapable weight. He struggled, instincts screaming to ghost and escape. Attempting, his body refused, knowing that attempting to would result in asphyxiation. Something was tugging Dom from behind. Louise had grabbed onto the Wonderbuilder itself, attempting to pull it off from the boy. The straps around him held tight, pulling the boy up with the pack. He wiggled, trying to loosen from Louise’s grip. There was just enough leeway for Davis to squeeze out of Dom’s grip. Seeing her friend free, Louise instead shifted her weight, swinging Dom by the pack and tossing him away. He tumbled through the air, but still managed to land on his feet, skidding to a stop. He turned to where his sister was. The smoke was beginning to dissipate, and a gust of wind blew the rest away. She had returned the blade to its shield-like state, and was swinging it like a giant fan to dissipate the smoke. There were caltrops scattered around here, but nothing too densely set to be threatening. She leapt over the traps, reunited with her brother. Louise was dragging Davis further from her opponents. “I need like, a minute…” He wheezed. Louise grabbed him by the arm, pulling him back to his feet. “Just push on a little bit more. That thing on . Let’s try and switch targets, maybe that’ll work out better.” Davis gulped down as much air as he could, his heart still pounding against his chest. Clarice was patiently watching them, Dom standing guard in front. Staring at the bizarre piece of machinery mounted on his back, Davis thought for moments. “I really don’t think I can reliably phase in or out anymore.” He coughed, sucking in more air. “If I do I feel like I’ll choke myself out!” “Just try and think of something, I’m gonna try and fake out the boy and go for the brat.” She charged forward as Davis still wheezed for breath. She reared back a fist at aimed straight for Dom’s face. He braced himself, holding his arms out to grab the girl when her blow inevitably would be repelled. She instead dropped down to the dirt, sweeping the boy by the feet. Him and the weight of his equipment brought him down with a crash, but he rolled to quickly get back to his feet. Even then, Louise had made her opening. She launched towards the lone Clarice, ready to hit her with a blow that would knock her out. Clarice didn’t panic, in fact she smirked. She deftly moved the shield-like blade right where Louise’s fist was going to connect. The gauntlet struck the blade, and Louise twinged. She could feel the blow vibrate throughout her body, feeling as if she punched a solid block of lead. Her opponent hadn’t budged in the slightest. She was paralyzed as the vibrations slowly faded out. Before she had entirely recovered, Dom had grabbed her from behind. She struggled, wiggling around and trying to find any sort of way to loosen the boy’s powerful grip. She was staring face to face with a smug looking Clarice. “You’re such a simpleton! I should have assumed as much from a troublemaker like you.” Clarice’s expression shifted to annoyance, and Dom released Louise, spinning around. Davis was holding a steaming smoke bomb in his hand, and with an almost embarrassed expression on his face. He hoped maybe throwing something into the open flames of the pack would jam a mechanism, giving him and Louise enough time to escape. He struck Davis in the stomach, and he coughed out all the air from his body, crumpling into a ball. Louise swept the legs of Dom again, hurrying to scoop up Davis and putting some distance between them. “Dude, you all right?” She muttered to him, still running. “Urgh…” he winced, taking in a few breaths. “Ok, I’m completely beat here… We should really run…” Louise looked ahead, finding a cabled harpoon soaring past her and embedding itself in a rock. She skidded to a halt and hit the deck, watching the boy soar over him. He turned around, making a new hand motion. Instead, his artifact sputtered, spewing out less smoke. There was a grinding coming from inside the device. His confidence turned into concern. He paused for a moment, leaving the two friends enough time to get onto their feet. “I’m afraid that Wonderbuilder isn’t going to work too much longer.” He spoke. His tone was deeper, and more authoritative than the shaky boy from before. “If I continue to fight, there’s a good possibility that girl could breach my armor.” Clarice stared at her brother, and back at the duo. “Davis there is no longer a factor in this fight. He didn’t disappear when you tried to strike him. Unless it’s a trick of his, we still have the advantage. I’ll take the lead, incapacitate the girl, and you just make sure the boy doesn’t use any more tricks or traps.” He nodded silently. As she took a few steps forward, something landed right in front of Louise and Davis. It was like a black silhouette, a person wearing a black hoodie, long black pants, black boots, and they were on all fours. They turned focus to Clarice and Dom, revealing themselves as a girl. Her face was deathly pale, and her hoodie was unzipped at the front, revealing a red and black camo patterned shirt. Her blood red eyes glared at the two, showing off a set of inhumanly sharp teeth. Clarice took a nervous step back, holding her blade defensively in front of herself. Dom stared at the threat curiously, circling around to stand closer to his sister. Louise’s heart quickened, trying her best to keep a strong front. Davis stared in shock at the newcomer. Scott, who had been watching far in the back, raised an eyebrow. “Leave this forest. Do not hurt my friend.” She spoke in a monotone, yet threatening voice. Clarice tightened her grip on her blade, ready to try and launch the first strike before the stranger could react. Skidding between the two groups, Scott held out his hands. “Woah woah woah, now. We agree, we’ll get outta here, all right?” Clarice’s face flushed red. “Scott, are you kidding me? We got them on the ropes!” He ignored her, turning to the stranger. “You’ll let us go as long as we stop this fighting, right?” She nodded, still glaring hostility at the man. He turned to the twins, smiling. “See, we’re all fine now. Let’s just get going.” “We’ll talk about this later. Come on, I really don’t want to force you two to come along with me now, right?” Clarice sighed angrily. She returned her sword to its hilt. Dom’s confident expression and strong stance melted away. His arms and legs abruptly felt sore. He stumbled, nearly falling over. Clarice caught him before he hit the ground. “You all right? Nothing serious, I hope?” He nodded. “Yeah, uh… Soreness. When you christened me, it’s like all my fears washed away. I just kept going on more and more fearlessly, and I felt stronger too! I think… Is it adrenaline? Maybe? It’d explain why now I’m feeling all that exercise…” Clarice sighed. “Well for now, rest up. Let’s not pull any muscles or anything.” She glared back at the duo and the stranger. We’ll stop you two… But maybe we aren’t ready. Not just yet. Scott waved. “We’ll probably meet again soon you two! I promise, next time I’m sure I’ll be all set and ready to duke it out with you two!” He spoke cheerily. He motioned for the twins to follow along, and the three marched away from the abandoned settlement. The stranger turned to the others. Louise put her hands in a fighting stance. “Look, I don’t know who you’re calling friend, but.” She rushed forward, grabbing Davis’s hands. She stared at him for a few moments, before hugging him. Louise froze, dumbfounded. “Davis, I need your help again.” His eyes widened. Her form looked familiar… The eyes, colors… His brain pieced together the rest. “You’re… That monster… the shapeshifting one!” He sputtered. Louise took a step back, clenching her fists. “Why are you-” She turned to the other girl. “I don’t want to hurt you. I promise.” She returned an angry glare. The monster let go of Davis. “Do you need more money or something again? I wish you could have picked a better moment.” “No. I am being hunted.” His heart skipped a beat. “What’s got a cryptid like you so scared?” Louise butted in. “Can’t you turn into a tree and hide?” “Louise, please. Just, we’ll hear you out. First, we should probably leave here. That Clarice girl did kinda have a point. It is illegal to be here, and the fighting may have attracted some attention.” Louise’s eyes beamed. “Finally, I got a good excuse to show you my hideout!” She glared back at the cryptid. “Though I’ll be keeping an extra close eye on you.” “I don’t understand. You are already tired and weak, and so is Davis. Putting one of your eyes on me would not do anything but make you more weak.” She frowned. “Don’t you know figures of speech? Just nevermind, and don’t try anything sneaky or else I’ll kill ya!” Clarice was fuming as they trudged through the woods. “We were so close! What the hell was that thing anyways? I thought there were just two of those troublemakers to deal with?” Scott shrugged. “I don’t know at all, and that’s why I chose for us to retreat. I mean, we were lucky that it still gave you two a peaceful way out, right? Hope you two at least got some good exercise and practice out of it.” Dom cracked a smile. He was still wobbly while walking. “Yea… How do you deal with the soreness anyways? You’re big into sports stuff, right?” “Rest and some good food! You basically just ripped a bunch of muscle fibers and you gotta let them repair. The nice part is that the more you exercise, you’ll be able to push your body further and further before getting sore. It’s simple stuff!” Clarice closed her eyes and shook her head. “Still, it was the first task from Kirino, and we couldn’t even complete it. This isn’t gonna make a very good impression on her.” “Hey, don’t sweat it!” Scott said, patting her on the back. “We’ll wait an hour or so, return, and get those materials like she asked. Those two were already leaving anyway.” Clarice stared out in space, processing how she even missed that fact. “That’s why I wanted to just move on without fighting in the first place.” “Yeah, but you saw what they did to that old mineshaft. We couldn’t just let them get away with that!” Scott waved his finger. “What we got there was a prime opportunity to learn about them, without getting too dirty. You just decided to learn the rough way. Dealing with all this is just a bit like a game. We’re still feeling out all these rules, tricks, and caveats. On the other side, we’re also trying to figure out how our opponents work and ‘play’ as well. We gotta keep learning more about them, so when we get forced into an inevitable conflict, we can REALLY cut loose!” She rolled her eyes. “Of course YOU of all people would be saying that… This is a bit more dangerous than a game.” “You got football and rugby where you can get pretty badly injured, so I think it’s still comparable here. Now, don’t mention our little scuffle with those two. I’m sure Kirino doesn’t want to be bothered by those details.” “No.” Clarice retorted. “I’m going to take responsibility for that. It was my call to fight, I failed to make anything of it, so I should suffer the consequences.” Dom peeked over. “Well, it was at the very least… Fighting experience I guess? I hope Davis is all right…” She smiled. “Experience, and not only that, I got some very important information about Davis’s powers.” Scott nodded. “We could have figured that out from playing friendly…” She pulled out her cell phone. There wasn’t too much reception out in the woods, but just enough to make a call. She pinned Kirino’s number. Scott rolled his eyes, and Dom stared nervously. It buzzed, and the girl answered. “Completed with your task already?” “Somewhat delayed. I ran into Davis and Louise, and those two were causing complications.” “I’m assuming they fought with you?” “Yes, but I started it. They had set off some explosives inside the town, and caused undue damage. It’s not something I could just stand around and let them get away with!” She took a deep breath. “We were unfortunately forced into retreat.” Her leader sighed. “I understand the need to do something, especially with all those two have done. However, did you not understand my warning about them?” “I did not then, but with how tenacious they were, I think I understand now.” “I am at least happy that you understand my orders without any injury, and that you chose to retreat. I know for you, that must have taken a lot of will.” Scott shot a dumb smile, and winked. “I understand. Despite my retreat, the fight was not a waste of time. I managed to learn more about Davis’s powers. Not to mention, they seem to have a third person assisting them.” Kirino’s eyes widened. “A third? Did you recognize them at all?” “No idea at all. We chose to retreat when she appeared.” Kirino tapped her chin. Every moment she saw the girl, Louise didn’t seem to have any other friends. “Finish gathering those supplies for Wonderbuilder, if you’re able to. If not, let me know. Regardless, we need to meet, and train in case you encounter the three again…”

2.4 GB | Project Files: Included | Software used: ZBrush We will focus on creating a digital maquette that can be used for creating a illustration as well as a 3D print. The first maquette will be a bust, a portrait sculpture that shows the head and shoulders of the character. For the second project we will be creating a full body design. I will be sharing the same process I use when designing creatures and characters for film projects. We are gonna be developing characters and creatures from the field of Cryptozoology. Cryptozoology refers to the search of animals whose existence has not yet been proven. Some examples of these myths and legends included Bigfoot and Lochness Monster. The first character we will be designing is the legendary Yeti, also known as the Abominable Snowman. The Yeti is an ape-like cryptid said to inhabit the Himalayan egion of Nepal, and Tibet. Yeti first emerged as a facet of Western popular culture in the 19th century. The second character we create will be based on the legend of the Chupacabra, which literally means “goat sucker”. The name comes from the animal’s reported habit of attacking and drinking the blood of livestock, especially goats. Physical descriptions of the creature vary. Eyewitness sightings have been claimed as early as 1995 in Puerto Rico, and have since been reported as far north as Maine, and as far south as Chile, and even being spotted outside the Americas in countries like Russia and The Philippines. It is supposedly a heavy creature, the size of a small bear, with a row of spines reaching from the neck to the base of the tail. Home Page: _http://workshops.cgsociety.org/courseinfo.php?id=374

If you’re a huge monster lover or a fan of urban myths and the paranormal, then you won’t want to miss the unique monthly subscription box, Cryptid Crate. Boy, oh boy, do we have a special treat for you. In this month’s edition of Monster’s Toy Box, we’re beyond ecstatic to introduce you to an amazing company we’ve recently discovered called Cryptid Crate. You might have heard of the widely famous company called Loot Crate, which provides a monthly paid subscription service to its customers, offering a box of themed items geared towards the subscriber’s preference. Well, with the boom of new monthly crate services becoming a very popular cache as of late, customers are seeking out alternative options better suited to their style. Therefore, it was only a matter of time before cryptid lovers received a crate pertaining to them. Cryptid Crate was founded and formed in 2016 by artist and podcast personality Derek Hayes. While hosting his podcast Monsters Among Us (not to be confused with the book of the same title), Hayes, having seen the popular rise of subscription crates, searched high and low for a monthly box service for those adamant about cryptozoology. After coming to the realization that there weren’t any, he took it upon himself to make an advertisement on his podcast, ultimately giving birth to the monstrous Cryptid Crate. The idea was to create a monthly themed cryptid crate service, not just for his own personal enjoyment, but for those with similar interests to enjoy as well. Hayes decided to reach out to a few of his fellow independent artisans, authors and personal favorite filmmakers to include in his crate. And, with the help of such peers, Cryptid Crate was born, and the rest is history. While there are a few subscription services out there directed toward horror fans, such as Loot Fright or Box of Dread, there is nothing quite like Cryptid Crate. It’s the only crate service of its kind, enticing monsters hunters and cryptid chasers with a box of goodies based upon their favorite beasts. If you’re enthusiastic about the paranormal and/or other worldly creatures, then this is the box for you. There are two different types of subscriptions packages you can purchase from Cryptid Crate. The first is Cryptid Crate Lite, which is the smaller of the two subscriptions crates at a price of only $19.99 a month, which contains approximately $40 worth of content. The other subscription crate is the regular, larger, Cryptid Crate box, at a price of $39.99 a month, containing approximately $70 worth of content. These boxes include items such as T-shirts, books, dvds and other collectibles and knick-knacks — all residing within the world of cryptozoology. Previous crates have included items from legends such as the Loch Ness Monster, Bigfoot and the Jersey Devil. Others include the Flatwoods Monster, the Chupacabra and even the most beloved and infamous creature in the cryptid universe, the Mothman. Cryptid Crate is the first of its kind and really something quite special for dedicated and aspiring cryptozoologists — or for anyone who simply loves monsters. Now you can display and show your support for your favorite cryptids as you comb the mucky swamps and dark forests in attempts to catch a mere glimpse of something from another realm. Or, if that’s not your cup of tea, thanks to this amazing company, you can watch a film or read a book about your favorite monster, all from the comfort of your own home. No matter how you like to spend your time pursuing the paranormal, Cryptid Crate is sure to keep it interesting on those dark and eerie nights. So, if you adore all things strange and paranormal, then do yourself a favorite and check out this brilliant, unique company. There is currently no monthly subscription crate service out there for monster enthusiasts quite like Cryptid Crate. Don’t miss out on this amazing, one-of-a-kind opportunity. Empty your pockets now and subscribe to Cryptid Crate today at cryptid-crate.cratejoy.com/subscribe/.

Cryptozoology is the search for and study of animals that mainstream science considers to be mythical or non-existent. Animals studied by cryptozoologists are called cryptids. Famous examples include creatures like Bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster, and the Yeti. Unsurprisingly then, there is quite a lot of derision aimed at cryptids in scientific circles. Cryptids are the stuff of low-level tabloid magazines and conspiracy theorists, right? Wrong! Many animals that experts once believed to be cryptids are actually flesh and blood living things. Famous Cryptids that Aren’t Actually Cryptids Anymore The platypus is a weird animal that seems to break a lot of rules. At the time of its first discovery by Europeans, it seemed to contradict everything they thought they knew about mammals. The platypus is a furry, Australian mammal that lives in rivers. It has the feet of an otter and the tail of a beaver. So far, not that strange. Then one looks at the head, and it appears to have a bill of a duck, unlike any other mammal. Even stranger still is the fact that it lays eggs. Only five living mammal species do so, the platypus and four kinds of echidna (spiny anteaters). Up until the discovery of the platypus, it was common knowledge that one of the things which defined a mammal was giving birth to live offspring. On top of this, the platypus is venomous! Venomous mammals were basically unheard of. The male platypus produces venom from glands attached to its ankle spurs. It is believed these are used defensively against other males, especially during mating season. It’s unsurprising then that European naturalists from the 18th and 19th centuries believed the platypus to be a hoax. When the first platypus corpses arrived in Europe from Australia, the experts weren’t sure what to make of them. Many thought it to be the work of Chinese sailors, who had previously tricked them with the corpse of a supposed mermaid. It was believed the platypus corpses were just well-put-together amalgamations of other animals! It took nearly a century for zoologists to admit they were wrong and definitively confirm the existence of the platypus. After looking at the first published illustration of a platypus from 1799, you can understand why English naturalists though it might be a hoax ( Public Domain ) 2.The Giant Squid Another poster child for famous cryptids that turned out to be real is the terrifying giant squid. Reports of the giant squid go back 2,000 years to the time of Aristotle. Pliny the Elder, a Roman naturalist, did a pretty good job describing the giant squid in his Natural History . He got pretty much everything right, except the size. Showing that the giant squid was too massive even for the superstitious ancient writers to get right, Pliny only estimated the squid at 30 feet (9 meters) long, when in reality it’s over 40 feet (12 meters) long! Early run-ins with giant squid were likely the inspiration for several mythological sea monsters , like Norse mythology’s Kraken and the Scylla of Greek mythology. A life size model of the world record-holding giant squid discovered near Glover’s Harbor, Newfoundland (ProductOfNewfoundland / CC BY NC ND 2.0 ) The giant squid remained a cryptid for so long because its existence was seemingly fantastical, and hard to verify. The sea is almost unfathomable in its size and depth. Looking for anything in the ocean, even something as huge as a giant squid, is like looking for a needle in a haystack. This is exacerbated by the fact that the giant squid is a deep sea creature, and humans haven’t spent much time down there. The only chance early zoologists had to study and verify the giant squid was through carcasses that would very occasionally wash ashore. The problem with this was that hungry sea creatures had often begun eating the corpses before they washed ashore, meaning complete samples were rare. Added to this was the fact that the carcasses tended to rot extremely quickly, leaving little to work with. The first recorded discovery of a mostly intact giant squid carcass was in the 1870s. However, it wasn’t until the last decade or so that we managed to take photos of a live specimen, cementing the giant squid’s status as a former cryptid. Giant squid occasionally washed ashore, but were rarely intact, and quickly decomposed. Giant squid at The Rooms in St. John’s; a regular sized squid is placed in the top left corner to compare. (Zach Bonnell / CC BY NC ND 2.0 ) 3.Sea Serpent Cryptids Stories of dreadful sea serpents that dwell in the ocean date back thousands of years. Even the Bible makes references to a gigantic beast called Leviathan that roams the briny depths looking for prey. Much like in the case of the giant squid, for a long time, scientists thought these sea monsters were too huge to be real. Cryptozoologists, however, believe that many sightings of these historic sea monsters are cases of real animals being misidentified, and then being given a fantastical, superstitious twist. One incredibly rare species is perhaps the likely culprit. The oarfish is a long, bony fish with an elongated body that has been found to grow to at least 56 feet (17 meters) long. They are found in oceans all over the world, but usually live in the deep ocean. They have sometimes washed ashore during storms and occasionally come to the surface when near death. A giant oarfish (Regalecus glesne) found in Los Cabos, Mexico (Katia Cao / CC BY 3.0 ) It seems likely that these giant fish are responsible for at least some of these early depictions of sea serpents. The first live oarfish wasn’t filmed until 2001, showing just how rare and hard to verify these fish were. After hearing about giant sea snakes, imaginations went wild. Sea serpents can no longer be considered cryptids, however, after documented creatures 56 feet (17 meters) long ( Anastasiya / Adobe Stock) 4.The Ultimate Cryptid: The Unicorn Now obviously, unicorns as traditionally portrayed don’t exist. The unicorn is still very much a cryptid. Except it isn’t. Although no one has discovered a horned horse yet, we can go back 2,000 years and find the animals that likely inspired talk of unicorns. Pliny the Elder described the unicorn two thousand years ago. He described it as having “the feet of the elephant, and the tail of the boar, while the rest of the body is like that of the horse; it makes a deep lowing noise, and has a single black horn, which projects from the middle of its forehead, two cubits in length. This animal, it is said, cannot be taken alive.” That sounds suspiciously like an Indian rhinoceros. Reading Pliny the Elder’s description of a unicorn sounds a lot like the Indian rhino (Yathin S Krishnappa / CC BY SA 3.0 ) There is another contender for real-life unicorn inspiration. The second is a little stranger, however, seeing as it lives in the sea. The narwhal is a type of toothed whale that lives in the freezing waters around Greenland, Canada, and Russia. Its defining feature is a large protruding canine tooth, known as its tusk. This tusk is startlingly similar to the imagined unicorn horn. Unicorn horns were an incredibly popular curio through the Middle Ages into the Renaissance period. These unicorn horns came from narwhals that the Vikings had hunted, selling their tusks for crazy prices as unicorn horns. When the English explorer Martin Frobisher led a Canadian expedition in 1577, he came across a dead narwhal. The name he gave it? The sea unicorn. Unicorns are still cryptids, but the ocean dwelling narwhal may have inspired unicorn legends. Its hard, pointed tusk is quite distinctive. ( Andreas Meyer / Adobe Stock) 5.The Komodo Dragon Before 1910, any scientist claiming to believe in a giant lizard that looked like a dragon would have been laughed out of the room. At the time, it was widely believed that giant lizards were a thing of the past, and nothing on the scale of a Komodo dragon could exist. When pearl fishermen returned from the Lesser Sunda Islands in Indonesia telling tall tales of giant ‘land crocodiles’, no one took them seriously. After all, fishermen are famous for exaggeration. Then, in 1910, an expedition from Buitenzorg Zoological Museum visited Komodo Island and produced the first scientific report on the creatures. Lieutenant Jacques Karel Henri visited the island and took home both a Komodo dragon skin and a photograph. The Komodo dragon remained mostly a mystery until 1926, when a second expedition went in search of the dragon. Its leader, W. Douglas Burden, came back with twelve preserved Komodo dragon bodies, as well as two live animals. It was only then the Komodo dragon truly left the realm of the cryptids and entered the world of established science. The 1926 expedition and discovery of an animal considered by many to be prehistoric went on to inspire the 1933 film King Kong . From cryptid to captured: A Komodo dragon at the Louisville Zoo, Kentucky, United States (David Ellis / CC BY NC ND 2.0 ) 6.The Humble Gorilla Sometimes an animal becomes so commonly known that it’s surprising it was ever considered a cryptid at all. For example, the humble gorilla was considered a cryptid until 1847. The term gorilla comes from a Carthaginian explorer called Hanno the Navigator, who was exploring the African coast in 500 BC. He described coming across a tribe of “gorillae”, monstrous and violent humans. Although it is likely he actually encountered chimps or baboons, the name has stuck. Reports of monstrous, hairy humans who would attack and overpower villages continue throughout the centuries but were never taken seriously by scientists. In the 16th century, an English explorer described ape-like humans visiting his campfire at night. Gorillas in general remained cryptids until 1847, when Thomas Savage found gorilla bones in Liberia. With the help of a Harvard anatomist named Jeffries Wyman, he then released a formal description of the species dubbing it, Gorilla gorilla. Sadly, from this point onwards, other anthropologists began hunting gorillas in earnest, seeking to learn as much about the discovery as possible. The mountain gorilla stayed a cryptid for a while longer. It wasn’t formally recognized as a species until 1902, when a German officer, Captain Robert von Beringe, shot one in the Virunga region of Rwanda and took it home to Europe. Surprisingly, gorillas were considered cryptids until the mid- to late-1800s. Mira Miejer / CC BY SA 4.0 ) The okapi is an African mammal that resembles a cross between a zebra and a donkey. Their only bizarre feature is the two hair-covered, horn-like structures called ossicones that they have just above their eyes. These may sound bizarre, but actually, the okapi is from the giraffe family, and the ossicones are pretty much the same as a giraffe’s horns. The okapi stayed in cryptid status for a long time, as they are quiet animals that live in dense forests. However, the okapi may have been depicted as early as the 5th century BC. Its unique ossicones led to its nickname as an African unicorn. (DerekKeats / CC BY SA 2.0 ) The okapi isn’t especially peculiar, certainly not compared to the giant squid or platypus. Yet it was considered a myth until 1901. The problem was its central African habitat was already well-known to European explorers, and since they had never seen one, they did not believe the tales the locals told of the okapi. Okapi inhabit incredibly dense forests and live quiet, solitary lives. Even the locals who told stories of them were unsure. Their knowledge of the okapi predominantly came from evidence the animals left behind, like tracks, rather than actual sightings. In 1890, Sir Henry Stanley was the first European to describe the mammal after traveling in the region. However, he had no solid proof, and so the okapi remained a cryptid. It was not until 1901 that zoologist and imperial officer Sir Harry Johnston obtained a skull and some skins with the help of locals. With this physical evidence, the okapi’s existence could finally be confirmed. The okapi wasn’t caught on film in the wild until 2008, which should give an idea of just how hard this beautiful animal is to track down. The okapi was thought to be a cryptid until 1901. Its habitat and appearance hindered its documentation. It wasn’t caught on film until 2008! (Eric Kilby / CC BY SA 2.0 ) So, if these cryptids turned out to be real, what about Nessy or Bigfoot? Why are people who believe in them still mocked and derided in the scientific community? The animals above, and in fact, all former cryptids share at least one thing in common. They come from remote, hard-to-explore regions of the planet. These animals stayed cryptids for so long because European scientists hadn’t had a chance to fully explore their habitats yet. Once they had, these animals stop being cryptids. The problem is, besides the oceans, most of the earth’s land mass has been pretty well studied by now. The likelihood of creatures as large as the okapi walking around undiscovered up to now is slim to none. Another thing most cryptids have in common is that they were actually discovered ages ago. The okapi and mountain gorilla had been talked about by African tribes for centuries. Likewise, the indigenous peoples of Australia were likely familiar with the platypus. The awkward truth is that the only reason these animals were never taken seriously is old-fashioned racism. For the most part, something remained cryptid until European scientists said otherwise, seeing it with their own eyes. Centuries of eyewitness accounts made by the locals didn’t count, because colonial-era European scientists lacked respect for the indigenous people of the places they were colonizing. Although it is unlikely any more large cryptids will be discovered, there is always some hope. There are still far-flung corners of the world and the fathomless depths of the oceans we haven’t scoured yet. If we are now willing to listen to the people from these areas, who knows what we might discover? Top Image: The Altamaha-ha legend has its roots in Muscogee traditions. This cryptid river monster with an alligator shaped head and long neck, is said to inhabit the Altamaha river and nearby marshes in southern Georgia. Will it be the next cryptid proven real? Source: Daniel Eskridge / Adobe Stock By Robbie Mitchell

I have amazing news!….. New American Supernatural docs coming soon + Channel Updates….. Sedate a Plant, and It Seems to Lose Consciousness. Is It Conscious?….. Planet Xtra Ellis Taylor Shaman for the Modern World 05-01-2014….. Ellis Taylor on Energy Harvesting….. What role does the Paranormal play in missing people and unexplained disappearances?….. Michael Tsarion on Race, Jordan Peterson, and Why Conspiracy Work is Spiritual Work |372|….. Constructing Australia (2007) Pipe Dreams….. Bigfoot: Tusked and with Backwards Feet!….. New DNA Test Results on Peru’s Elongated Skulls….. Brian Harvey reveals Paedophile Room at London Nightclub….. The Strange Death of Michael Hutchence Part One–The Fatal Attraction of Paula Yates–The Mars Opposition….. Robert Parry’s Legacy and the Future of Consortiumnews….. Remembering John Anthony West — Friday FARcast….. What Neolithic rock art can tell us about the way our ancestors lived 6,000 years ago….. Amazing wonderful news! For everyone who remembers my writing and speaking about this, in An Angel in our Midst I have some fabulous news for you: In December 1997 my darling little niece passed away, she was only 9. It was devastating of course for her parents and siblings, and the whole of our family. Tyff was an extraordinarily sensitive and caring little girl, and knowing how difficult her leaving would be demonstrated her continued presence by sending loving messages almost immediately, as well as foretelling the birth of a little nephew. Today, on the day that Tyff would have been celebrating her 30th birthday, an adorable little girl was born to one of her twin sisters. Together Again was her favourite song. I have only just got of the phone to my brother and he has shared two truly remarkable incidents that preceded this birth. I have just added these accounts to the end of An Angel in our Midst . Never ever doubt it; life goes on. Don Philips: Hi subscribers old and new, finally I’m back – this is an update on where I am and where I’m going with things. I’m back in the US in a few weeks investigating the most prolific Haunting’s. Joining me will be members of an American team who I shall reveal at a later stage. This year is about full feature documentaries and uploads to you people here on youtube. The DEMONS IN SEATTLE UNCOVERED doc released date set for April I know there’s a lot of people been waiting for this. I also have a back log of footage to be added to you tube throughout this year. It’s going to be an amazing year people on many levels. Thank you… Don Philips As I’ve been saying: Plants don’t get enough credit. They move. You know this. Your houseplant salutes the sun each morning. At night, it returns to center. You probably don’t think much of it. This is simply what plants do: Get light. Photosynthesize. Make food. Live. But what about all the signs of plant intelligence that have been observed? Sedate a Plant, and It Seems to Lose Consciousness. Is It Conscious? That’s a clip from the 2017 Oscar nominated movie, Get Out. It is a movie that approaches some of these topics of race, genetics, blood lines, in a rather new and novel way. But from my perspective, from the Skeptiko perspective of consciousness and extended consciousness, it just sounds like bullshit. Alex Tsakiris: I mean, I’m just going to be really blunt. I’m looking at a picture of you and I’m going Irishman? Man, this guy’s pretty brown skinned, and then I’m reading your background and you say in your bio that your grandfather was this, kind of, famous Sikh, right? Michael Tsarion: That’s right. I am Irish with Norwegian background and part of my family comes from Northern India. When you say Sikh, that’ll pretty much nail it for people because within Sikhism there’s several different castes and the highest caste, the philosopher caste, was called Jat, and my ancestors came from the Jat Sikhs. So, these are a philosopher caste. This is a caste that is known to be pure Aryan and pure Caucasian. So even though the tone of the skin maybe off-white, you know, darker because of the hot climate and that my ancestors moved over to India, they are, in fact, Caucasians. So, on both sides of my family, it’s Caucasian blood there, partly from Norway and then the Norwegians came over. Alex Tsakiris: This history, the land, the blood. You feel like that’s important to you? Michael Tsarion: Yes, it’s important to me, yeah. Skeptico interview with Michael Tsarion: on Race, Jordan Peterson, and Why Conspiracy Work is Spiritual Work |372| It was in 1868 that Franklin County, Mississippi received a most unwelcome visit from something ape-like and terrifying. The story was told in the St. Louis Dispatch on June 27, 1868. It all began when a group of men out hunting with a pack of dogs in the vicinity of the town of Meadville came across a number of large, human-like tracks, several of which seemed to suggest the feet of the creature faced backwards! As odd as it may sound, tales of backwards-facing feet abound in cryptid ape lore and can be found all around the world – as we shall soon see. Bigfoot: Tusked and with Backwards Feet! Read the comments too: In the paranormal business, the cure for a slow news day is to see what’s cooking in Peru. Last week, we had the truck driver plowing his vehicle over the ancient Nazca lines, destroying portions of these famous and unexplained geoglyphs in the name of avoiding to pay a toll. It’s been a while since we heard anything about the three-fingered mummies but there’s nothing new to reports. Fortunately, the elongated skulls came to the rescue! New DNA Test Results on Peru’s Elongated Skulls As I tunneled down the rabbit hole, eight days ago, looking at the birth date of Michael Hutchence (1/22/60) and the strange case of his death (and life). As always, when the research starts, the mining process begins. At this point, I could probably write a small book on the death of Hutchence, Paula Yates, Bob Geldof and the death of Yates and Geldof’s daughter, Peaches. We’re talking Laurel Canyon, UK style. Instead, I”l break this down into a series, starting with Hutchence and the obsessive romance with Yates. That’s where it all starts INXS CONQUERS THE WORLD The Strange Death of Michael Hutchence Part One–The Fatal Attraction of Paula Yates–The Mars Opposition It is with a heavy heart that we inform Consortiumnews readers that Editor Robert Parry has passed away. As regular readers know, Robert (or Bob, as he was known to friends and family) suffered a stroke in December, which – despite his own speculation that it may have been brought on by the stress of covering Washington politics – was the result of undiagnosed pancreatic cancer that he had been unknowingly living with for the past 4-5 years. Robert Parry’s Legacy and the Future of Consortiumnews The British and Irish countryside is often celebrated for its wealth of unique places of heritage, significance and interest. But not many people know that this heritage includes thousands of ancient panels of neolithic art, which are usually found out in the open for anyone to see. Known also as “cup and rings”, these rock carvings were made by our Neolithic and Early Bronze Age ancestors between 6,000 and 3,800 years ago. About 7,000 carved panels are known about – occurring mostly in England (3,500 panels) and Scotland (2,500 panels). What Neolithic rock art can tell us about the way our ancestors lived 6,000 years ago

Gather round ghouls and goblins, because this post is going to be long. As we get closer and closer to spooky season, we will be tackling more and more of the looming topics in each category. As you hopefully saw from this post’s title (you do read the titles, right?), this week’s post is one of the heavy hitters from the cryptid realm. I hope you’re ready, because this is going to be a long post. Now, join me and let’s explore the lore of the Jersey Devil. I want to start this off by attempting to describe what the Jersey Devil looks like. And I say attempt because there are so many different versions of the Jersey Devil that I can’t possibly cover all of the bases. There seem to be three main versions of what he actually looks like – those versions may have variations, but I’ll just cover the broad strokes so you have a mental image as we go through the rest of the details of the lore. The first version is what I’ll refer to as the Dragon Devil. This version is bipedal with short front legs. Imagine a Velociraptor with bat wings. That about covers it, really. The front legs may or may not have claws. The back legs may or may not resemble chicken legs – remember what I said about variations earlier? Some have claimed that the Jersey Devil has a forked tail and breathed fire – both common attributes to dragons in most mythologies. The second version is the strangest of the three, and I’ll refer to it as the Goblin Devil. This is the version that most resembles a man. The only way I’ve seen this version portrayed is in two or three images. The top half of the Goblin Devil strongly resembles a leprechaun – round cheeks, impish nose, and even a hat. The bottom half shows furry legs and cloven feet. He sometimes has nubs of horns barely sticking out from beneath his hair or hat, but they are not prominent features. The Goblin Devil does have wings in most depictions as well, but they, like the horns, are not prominent. The last version is the one most often portrayed, and I’ll refer to it as the Goat Devil. This depiction often has the head of a goat with human or humanlike features. The horns on the Goat Devil’s head are very prominent and often long enough to curl. The Goat Devil, like the two previous depictions, is bipedal, but the descriptions of his limbs vary wildly from image to image. Some images show his front legs as being very, very short. Some images show them as being very long and ending in razor-sharp talons. The wings on the Goat Devil’s back are large and are often the focal points of the images depicting the Jersey Devil. Across the board, some things remain consistent despite the differences in each depiction. First, each depiction has some variation of horns and wings. Second, each depiction shows some sort of reference to goats. Both of these are tied to depictions of Satan. So, how did the Jersey Devil become so…goaty? Let’s look into some of the different origin stories for the infamous cryptid. Like the creature’s overall description, there are also many variations in its origin story. I am going to cover the two main ones that I came across: the Place of the Dragon and the Leeds Family Curse. These two versions of the folklore each have many different versions, morphing with each retelling – such is the nature of folklore and legends. I’m sorry if the two I cover don’t exactly align with what you’ve always heard growing up, or what you personally believe, but this is the result of synthesizing a lot of information from a lot of different resources, and basically boiling it all down to the common parts. Here are the basics of each origin story. As local legend goes, the Lenape tribes in what is now New Jersey referred to the Pine Barrens as “Popuessing,” which allegedly translates to the “Place of the Dragon.” When Swedish explorers began to set foot on the east coast, they referred to the area as “Drake Kille” in Dutch. This roughly translates to “Dragon River” – there is no exact translation for “kille” in English, as it seems like it can refer to any offshoot of an ocean or sea, such as a river, inlet, or even something small like a creek. Regardless, the conclusion that most draw between these names and the Jersey Devil is that it has always been there – possibly even before humans. Now, whether you take that to mean it’s something prehistoric or something supernatural is up to you, but…here (might) be dragons, y’all. The other big theory when it comes to the Jersey Devil revolves around a woman known as Mother Leeds. The legend goes that Mother Leeds had twelve children. When she found out she was pregnant with a thirteenth child, she cursed her own pregnancy – which seems really counterintuitive to me, but okay – stating that the child would become the devil upon birth. In this version, there’s no record of Mother Leeds practicing witchcraft or being endowed with magic prior to her act of cursing, so I suppose the implication is that Satan heard her curse and claimed the child as his own. (In other versions, she is a witch and the father of the child is literally Satan.) When Mother Leeds gave birth, the child immediately grew bat wings, a goat head, a forked tail, and hooves (so…baphomet, basically?) and proceeded to beat everyone in the room with its tail before escaping up the chimney. There was a woman named Deborah Leeds who has been proven to have had twelve children in the correct timeframe of the Mother Leeds legend, but most theorists argue that the actual identity of Mother Leeds matters less than her family tree’s socio-political intrigue does. The Leeds Clan in New Jersey had quite the reputation built up around them, and a man named Daniel Leeds even became Benjamin Franklin’s publishing rival at one point. These reputations may have led to the term “Devil” being introduced to the mix, when they were being cursed out. These people being metaphorical devils may have transformed over the years to there being a literal devil in the pine barrens. Then that literal devil took its own shape and dre much, much more notoriety than the infamous Leeds clan. I could go much, much deeper into the Leeds Lore, but this suffices for our purposes. If you’re interested, I suggest reading this Skeptical Enquirer piece on the Jersey Devil. Sightings and Encounters You may be asking yourself “gee, dear author, just how often is the Jersey Devil spotted? We have so many different descriptions of it.” Well, dear reader, the answer is a bit strange. The Jersey Devil is not necessarily spotted that often, but the sightings do seem to appear in clusters. There will be years – decades, even – between sightings, but then there will be multiple sightings within a year or two. This section is by no means meant to be comprehensive. If I were to attempt to document each Jersey Devil sighting, it would be my full time job and I would be writing entire books, not blog posts. Instead, I’ll go over the most well-known, well-documented, and notable sightings of the Jersey Devil. The first sighting we’ll be discussing occurred in 1778. While visiting an iron works in the Pine Barrens to test cannonballs, a man named Stephen Decatur saw a large, winged creature flying overhead. Rather than simply observe the strange creature…he fired at it. And allegedly hit it square in the wing. This did not seem to bother the Jersey Devil, as it just continued to fly on, unbothered. In 1820, one of the more notable Jersey Devil encounters took place. Joseph Bonaparte, older brother to Napoleon and former King of Spain, was living in exile in New Jersey. One afternoon Joseph Bonaparte was on a solo hunting trip in the Pine Barrens. The fact that it was snowy is key, as he noticed some strange tracks. He followed them, trying to figure out what kind of animal could have made them. They looked like donkey hooves, but there were only two. As he pondered what had left the, he heard a sort of hissing noise. When he turned to find the source, he faced an animal the likes of which he – and, perhaps, no one else – had ever seen before. It had the head of a horse, bird legs, and enormous wings. Despite the fact he was holding a gun, he did not make a move to harm the creature and it eventually flew away. That’s the bottom-line of the Bonaparte sighting, but you can read more about it here, at American Folklore. In 1840 and 1841, several herds of livestock were brutally slain and farmers claimed to have heard “unearthly” screams afterwards. There were flurries of sightings in 1859, 1873, and 1887. The 1887 sighting took place outside of a homestead, during which the Jersey Devil apparently scared the wits out of a child that resided there. Then, like with Decatur in 1778, it was shot in the wing but seemed unaffected by the shot. In 1909, the biggest wave of sightings occurred. There were about a dozen sightings in the span of a week, though some contemporary newspapers claim that encounters numbered in the hundreds. The purported encounters supposedly took place across New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, and even Delaware. I won’t go into details of individual supposed encounters here, but some highlights will suffice. The 1909 sightings allegedly included the Jersey Devil attacking a trolley and a social club, being fired on by police, and killing animals. This rash of sightings prompted public fear that led to schools being closed, workers staying home, and groups of vigilantes to form and patrol the Pine Barrens in search of the creature. The Philadelphia Zoo also purportedly offered a reward for the creature as a result of this flap. But after that episode, things slowed down a bit. In 1951, several boys claimed they saw a humanoid creature screaming in Gibbstown, NJ, which honestly sounds more like a different cryptid to me, if not simply another person or a prank. In 1957, a carcass resembling the Jersey Devil was found. I have to say that, while I’ve read about the 1957 encounter from multiple sources, I can’t find who found it or where they found it, so I’m very skeptical of this account. In 1960, a reward was offered by shop owners in Camden, NJ for the capture of the Jersey Devil. That same year in Mays Landing, residents heard strange noises and saw tracks that they eventually attributed to the Jersey Devil. Then there was another break in sightings. The next sighting I found with significant backing information took place in 1991. A pizza driver saw a horse-like creature on the road. Again, this doesn’t sound like the Jersey Devil to me, but maybe the moonlight was playing tricks with its coloring. The next significant sighting took place in 2007 in Freehold, NJ. A local woman saw a creature with enormous bat wings near her home. Later that year near Mount Laurel, NJ a man spotted what he described as a “gargoyle”-like creature perching in a tree near the road. In 2008 near Litchfield, PA, a man claimed that the Jersey Devil flew out of the roof of his barn. That last sighting we’re going to discuss today took place in 2017, somewhere over Pennsylvania. The person who took the photo, which is examined in a youtube video here, remains anonymous to this day. The anonymous man says the creature in the photo has the same markings as the Jersey Devil. He described it as looking like a “massive vulture” sitting in a tree near the side of the road. To be honest, it just looks like a bat to me. So…what is the Jersey Devil? It’s been a shadow over the Pine Barrens for nearly 300 years. It is perhaps due to this long tenure that so many stories have become attached to the Devil. Locals, visitors, cryptid enthusiasts, and citizen sleuths have all been trying to figure out the mystery of the creature – does it exist? If so, why is it still around? If it isn’t real, why is the tale so enduring? Let’s take a look at the theories that assume the Jersey Devil is a flesh and bone creature first. It is possible that the Jersey Devil is some sort of animal running loose in the Pine Barrens. One possible species to note as a possible explanation is the Sandhill Crane. Now, if you’re an active consumer of Cryptid-centric media, you’re probably groaning. People always want to blame things on sandhill cranes. I mean, look at Mothman (we’ll get to him in another post). The logic here is that the sandhill crane’s wingspan is over five feet and has been known to make noises akin to screams. Another theory in the same vein is that the Jersey Devil is a yet undiscovered species of animal hiding in the vast Pine Barrens. Or maybe it is just what’s been described – a demon from hell or a human child cursed to live as devil spawn or however you want to put it. A genuine cryptid. Now let’s move onto the less physical theories of what the Jersey Devil may be. One interesting approach that I only saw in a few places is that the devil is a harbinger of war – an entity that appears to warn those that see it of oncoming danger and impending attacks or battles. Now, whether that means he is a spirit tied to the area for this purpose is not elaborated on – he could still be Mother Leeds’s cursed 13th child, trying to protect the area from incoming danger. But, again, this theory was not fleshed out much besides some surface correlation between sightings and important war dates. The final three theories we’ll take a look at are for the skeptics, so gather ‘round. First, many people believe that people who believe they sighted the Jersey Devil actually saw something else and their subsequent panic caused mass hysteria. Mass hysteria leaves a lasting impact on the community it is contained in – their history, their customs, and their folklore all morph in an attempt to document and understand the hysteria. The tale Jersey Devil could have been born of a few people seeing a strange animal in the woods – or even just believing they did – and then the ripple effects from those sightings. Or perhaps the Jersey Devil was the result of a prank or a deliberate hoax? An art installation gone wrong? We don’t know what goes on in any wood, let alone one as dense and vast as the Pine Barrens. I could definitely see someone rigging up a horse-like structure to scare a friend, or trying to build wings that would allow horses to fly and testing them on horse dummies. My imagination could run wild. Or maybe some locals built a monster to scare people away from the woods for some reason. The list of possibilities goes on and on. Finally, and perhaps my personal favorite theory: maybe the Jersey Devil was built up as a bogeyman to keep people away from real danger in the Pine Barrens. Every kid hears tales of what waits in the dark to gobble them up if they put a toe out of line. I imagine that the Pine Barrens has more than its fair share of danger – given its sheer overwhelming size and wild nature. Who knows what animals one would cross paths with if they were to wander into its depths? What pitfalls and cliffs and roots to twist their ankles on? And what people dare take refuge in its leafy depths? So maybe the Jersey Devil is just a tall tale, carefully crafted to keep people away from the Pine Barrens and the dangers it may hold. The world may never know.

Geographical Index > United States > North Carolina > Alexander County > Report # 41508| Submitted by witness on Wednesday, June 26, 2013. Motorist observes large hairy biped in the late afternoon near Taylorsville (Show Printer-friendly Version) STATE: North Carolina COUNTY: Alexander County LOCATION DETAILS: It was in Alexander County on Damascus Church Road pretty close to Iredell county line NEAREST TOWN: Taylorsville NEAREST ROAD: Damascus Church Road OBSERVED: Driving with family on Damascus Church Road in Alexander County I saw what appeared to be a Sasquatch. I glanced over while driving at the top of a fenced-in cow pasture and I saw it. It appeared tall over 7 foot and had long arms walking upright. It had long hair all over that appeared all over the body and the hair must have been 6 plus inches. It walked down a powerline clearing and veered off into the woods . I was kind of in disbelief and told my family what I think I saw, turned around and it was gone into the woods. I'm 38 years-old and first time I've seen anything like it. This I saw about two weeks ago and only told family. ALSO NOTICED: I grew up on farm and a hunter but this was once in a lifetime sighting. OTHER WITNESSES: No but others with me OTHER STORIES: No. TIME AND CONDITIONS: Around 4-5 pm weather was cloudy but no rain High 90 Low 63 overcast with high humidity Waxing crescent moon 14% illumination ENVIRONMENT: Foothill top of mountain walking down from powerline clearing and walked ibto woods above the cattle fence line Follow-up investigation report by BFRO Investigator Larry Sidwell: I spoke with the witness by phone a few weeks after he spotted this animal. He was very observant of what he saw in the short time he had visual on this Sasquatch and was able to recall lots of detail. The witness was traveling with his family late afternoon about 4:30pm. He was driving and heading east on Sharpe Mill Road in Alexander County, North Carolina, very near the Iredell County line. Sharpe Mill Road turns into Damascus Church Road after crossing into Iredell County. The area is mixed patches of woods and farmland, and is on the Eastern foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. The witness looked to the North and spotted a large hairy biped crossing a power line cut. It was approximately 150-200 yards away at the top of a ridge. He estimated the height at seven to nine feet. He also described it as being thin and "lanky". The animal was traveling very quickly between two patches of woods that the power lines bisected. It was not running but seemed to "glide" as it walked. He noticed that it had long six inch reddish-brown hair over its entire body. He could not make out any facial features or head shape. It looked down and was hunched over the entire time he viewed it. He noticed it had extremely long arms, almost to its knees, and was walking with its palms forward, and with long arm swings. The entire encounter lasted between eight to ten seconds. The witness told his family after seeing it that "I think I just saw a Bigfoot." He turned the car around to go back and look, but by the time he returned it had gone into the woods. The witness was absolutely positive about what he saw. He had great recollection of the sighting and was very credible. No one else in the car viewed the Sasquatch. He has not told anyone but me and his family of the sighting. That area of Alexander County is very rural with woods and farms. There is a lot of agriculture, with apple orchards, cattle and chicken farms. Wildlife is abundant with a large population of deer, wild turkeys and other small mammals. Outz Creek is the major waterway in this area of the county. It is dammed in two spots to form small lakes. About BFRO Investigator Larry Sidwell: Larry became interested in Bigfoot at an early age after viewing the Patterson - Gimlin footage. Spent a lot of time in his youth hiking and exploring his families' farms in Clark County, Kentucky. Now resides in Bridgeport,WV. BFRO public expeditions Larry has attended: 2012 West Virginia, 2013 Kentucky, 2013 West Virginia, 2013 Western North Carolina, 2014 North Carolina, 2014 ,Kentucky (Bluegrass Region), 2017 Maryland, 2019 Western Kentucky, 2020 Kentucky, 2021 Pennsylvania, 2021 Kentucky, 2022 South Carolina, 2022 Fall Tennessee, 2022 Kentucky. Private expeditions Larry has attended: 2013 SEBFRO Nantahalla National Forest, 2014 Winter Uwharrie National Forest, 2014 Pisgah National Forest, 2014 Fall Uwharrie National Forest, 2015 Croatan National Forest, 2015 Forbes State Forest, Pennsylvania, 2015 Uwharrie National Forest, 2016 KBRO Kentucky, 2016 Monongahela National Forest, 2017 Monongahela National Forest, 2018 Southwest Virginia, 2019 KBRO Kentucky, 2021 KBRO Kentucky, 2021 ECE Spring Monongahela NationalForest, 2021 Fall ECE Monongahela, 2022 KBRO Spring Kentucky, 2022 KBRO Fall Expetion. Conferences attended: 2013 Midnight Walkers Southeastern Bigfoot Conference, Dahlonega Georgia, and the 2014 and 2019 Ohio Bigfoot Conference, 2021 Smoky Mountain Bigfoot Conference, 2021 Cryptid Con Lexington, Ky, 2022 Smoky Mountain Bigfoot Conference, Gatlinburg, TN.

One might be forgiven for thinking that sightings of large, winged monsters only ever occur in the skies over large forests and jungles, and above remote mountains. Not so. In fact, far from it. In 1984, just such an unearthly beast was seen soaring over the capital city of the United Kingdom: London! The specific location was Brentford, a town situated within west London. The day on which all hell broke loose was hardly of the kind one might expect to associate with a monster. There were no dark and stormy skies, no thunder and lightning, and no howling winds. Instead, there was nothing but a warm, pleasant, sunny day in March. The man who kicked off the firestorm of controversy was Kevin Chippendale, who, at the time, was walking along Brentford’s Braemer Road. As he did so, Chippendale’s attention was drawn to something strange in the sky. It was some sort of large, flying animal. Not the kind of thing you see every day, to be sure. And in a decidedly synchronistic fashion, it all went down in the skies directly above a local pub called The Griffin. It was the imagery of a legendary griffin of ancient mythology that Chippendale most associated with the thing he briefly encountered. It was winged, fork-tailed, and sported mean-looking talons and a dog-like muzzle. Chippendale could do nothing but stare in awe. And in shock and terror, too. Stories of so-called griffins date back millennia, to the times of the ancient Greeks, Egyptians, and Persians. In the 14th century, Sir John Mandeville wrote of griffins: “Some men say that they have the body upward as an eagle and beneath as a lion; and truly they say sooth that they be of that shape. But one griffin hath the body more great and is more strong than eight lions, of such lions as be on this half, and more great and stronger than an hundred eagles such as we have amongst us. For one griffin there will bear, flying to his nest, a great horse, if he may find him at the point, or two oxen yoked together as they go at the plough. For he hath his talons so long and so large and great upon his feet, as though they were horns of great oxen or of bugles or of kine, so that men make cups of them to drink of. And of their ribs and of the pens of their wings, men make bows, full strong, to shoot with arrows and quarrels.” Almost a year later after his extraordinary encounter, specifically in February 1985, Chippendale saw the creature yet again. Others saw the monster, too. They included a psychologist named John Olsen – who encountered the beast while jogging near the River Thames - and a woman named Angela Keyhoe, who saw the griffin squatting in ominous and beady-eyed fashion atop the town’s Waterman Carts Center. Both the local and national media – television and newspapers – were soon onto the story, and major coverage was afforded the mystery. Then, like so many cryptid-based incidents, the weird wave of the winged thing came to a sudden end. It’s worth noting, however, that despite the incredible nature of the affair, this is far from being the only occasion upon which a griffin has been encountered in the UK. Elliott O’Donnell was an enthusiastic collector and disseminator of data on all manner of wonders, including ghosts, demons, and strange creatures. He was also someone who crossed paths with the English griffin. He said, of a strange story that dated back to the 17th century: “Mr. John Luck, a farmer from Raveley, set out on horseback one morning to the annual fair at Whittlesea. On the way he met a friend, with whom he had a drink at a wayside inn. After drinking somewhat heavily Mr. Luck became very merry, and perceiving that his friend was getting restless and desirous of continuing on his way to the fair, he said, ‘Let the devil take him who goeth out of this house today.’ “The more he drank, the merrier he grew. Forgetful of his rash saying, he called for his horse and set out for the fair. The fresh air seemed to have a sobering effect, for he had not travelled very far before he remembered what he had said. He was naturally superstitious and became so perturbed that he lost his bearings. He was endeavoring to find the way home – it was getting dusk and far too late to go to the fair – when he espied ‘two grim creatures before him in the likeness of griffins.’ “They handled him roughly, took him up in the air, stripped him, and then dropped him, a sad spectacle, all gory, in a farm yard just outside the town of Doddington. There he was found lying upon some harrows. He was picked up and carried to a house, which belonged to a neighboring gentleman. When he had recovered sufficiently to talk, he related what had happened to him. Before long he ‘grew into a frenzy,’ so desperate that the inmates of the house were afraid to stay in the room with him. “Convinced that Luck was under evil influences, they sent for the clergyman of the town. No sooner had the clergyman entered the house than Luck, howling like a demon, rushed at him and would have torn him to pieces, had not the servants of the house come to his rescue. They succeeded with great difficulty in overcoming Luck and tying him to the bed. No one was allowed to enter his room, the door of which was locked.” Neil Arnold, who has carefully studied the affair of the Brentford Griffin, notes: “O’ Donnell goes on to describe how Mr. Luck, the next morning, was found dead in his bed. His body a crooked, broken mess, black with bruises, neck snapped, and tongue hanging from his chasm of a mouth. His face an expression of utmost dread. Many believed that the griffin monsters were sent by Satan and had succeeded in their quest.” Bizarre for sure! Now, onto an equally weird creature. Anomalies researcher and writer Mike Dash says: “Few creatures have struck more terror into more hearts for longer than the basilisk, a monster feared for centuries throughout Europe and North Africa. Like many ancient marvels, it was a bizarre hybrid: a crested snake that hatched from an egg laid by a rooster and incubated by a toad.” Tales of the Basilisk really came to the fore in 79AD, in the pages of Pliny the Elder’s Natural History. It states of the beast that: “It is produced in the province of Cyrene, being not more than twelve fingers in length. It has a white spot on the head, strongly resembling a sort of a diadem. When it hisses, all the other serpents fly from it: and it does not advance its body, like the others, by a succession of folds, but moves along upright and erect upon the middle. It destroys all shrubs, not only by its contact, but those even that it has breathed upon; it burns up all the grass, too, and breaks the stones, so tremendous is its noxious influence. It was formerly a general belief that if a man on horseback killed one of these animals with a spear, the poison would run up the weapon and kill, not only the rider, but the horse, as well. To this dreadful monster the effluvium of the weasel is fatal, a thing that has been tried with success, for kings have often desired to see its body when killed; so true is it that it has pleased Nature that there should be nothing without its antidote. The animal is thrown into the hole of the basilisk, which is easily known from the soil around it being infected. The weasel destroys the basilisk by its odor, but dies itself in this struggle of nature against its own self.” None other than Leonardo da Vinci told a very similar story. He said that the monster “…is found in the province of Cyrenaica and is not more than 12 fingers long. It has on its head a white spot after the fashion of a diadem. It scares all serpents with its whistling. It resembles a snake, but does not move by wriggling but from the center forwards to the right. It is said that one of these, being killed with a spear by one who was on horse-back, and its venom flowing on the spear, not only the man but the horse also died. It spoils the wheat and not only that which it touches, but where it breathes the grass dries and the stones are split.” Without doubt the most notable account of the Basilisk comes from the Polish city of Warsaw and dates from 1587. Midori Snyder says of this case that it revolved around “a terrifying encounter and eventual capture of a Basilisk hiding in the cellar of a house who is suspected of bringing the plague.” So the old story went: “The 5-year-old daughter of a knifesmith named Machaeropaeus had disappeared in a mysterious way, together with another little girl. The wife of Machaeropaeus went looking for them, along with the nursemaid. When the nursemaid looked into the underground cellar of a house that had fallen into ruins 30 years earlier, she observed the children lying motionless down there, without responding to the shouting of the two women. When the maid was too hoarse to shout anymore, she courageously went down the stairs to find out what had happened to the children. Before the eyes of her mistress, she sank to the floor beside them, and did not move. The wife of Machaeropaeus wisely did not follow her into the cellar, but ran back to spread the word about this strange and mysterious business. The rumor spread like wildfire throughout Warsaw. Many people thought the air felt unusually thick to breathe and suspected that a basilisk was hiding in the cellar.” Now, let's turn our attentions to something half-goat. Yes, I did say that! In the very early hours of one particularly fateful morning in the hot and sticky summer of 1969, six petrified residents of the Texan city of Fort Worth raced for the safety of their local police-station and related a controversial and amazing story. John Reichart, his wife, and two other couples were parked at Lake Worth – and, yes, it was indeed at the stroke of midnight - when a truly vile and monstrous-looking creature came storming out of the thick branches of a large, nearby tree. Reportedly covered in a coat that seemed to be comprised of both scales and fur, it slammed with a crashing bang onto the hood of the Reichart’s car and even tried to grab hold of the not-surprisingly-terrified Mrs. Reichart, before racing off into the pitch-black night and the camouflage of the dense, surrounding trees. The solitary evidence of its dark and foreboding presence was a deep, foot-and-a-half-long scratch along the side of the Reichart’s vehicle. While this specific event rapidly, and unsurprisingly, generated deep media interest, and was actually taken extremely seriously by the Fort Worth police – as prime evidence of this, no less than four police-cars quickly headed to the scene of the Reichart’s encounter – it was most certainly not the first occasion upon which Fort Worth officialdom had become the recipient of ominous accounts of diabolical beasts roaming around Lake Worth. Indeed, until the Reichart’s story hit the newspapers, it was a little-known fact that for approximately two months the police had been clandestinely investigating reports of a distinctly weird beast that was said to be spooking the locals on a disturbingly regular basis. While some of the officers concluded that at least some of the sightings might have been the work of local kids, running around in ape costumes, others were not quite so sure that fakery was a dominating factor, and took the Reichart’s story to heart. For example, Patrolman James S. McGee conceded that the report John Reichart filed with the Fort Worth constabulary was treated very seriously, as a result of the fact that: “those people were really scared.”

Whenever I sit down to watch a movie or TV show, I try to predict what is going to happen. It isn’t quite as entertaining during a RomCom, but it’s certainly fun for a crime show, mystery or even a drama. Being able to think through all the hints, clues and foreshadowing and discovering that you were right feels so rewarding. Yet, when you are wrong, you recognize that the writer and director created a solid, unpredictable piece of work. These urges to solve problems go way back to my childhood when I could play Mastermind, Clue or Electronic Detective for hours on end. As an adult, I’ve enjoyed a variety of deduction board games such as Alchemists, Decrypto and Cryptid as well as escape room games. The most recent game of this type that we’ve played is Paranormal Detective from Lucky Duck Games. Before I say anything else, let me just say that it isn’t scary as the name might imply. The concept behind Paranormal Detective is that something has occurred and there’s been a death. A group of detectives is trying to communicate with the ghost in an attempt to find out what happened. Gather around the table and decide which player will take on the role of the deceased and give that person the Ghost sheet, a random story card, three Ghost Interaction cards, the deck of Tarot cards and a pen. Place the board and quill pen sheet in the center of the table then set the markers (Ghost Meter, Talking Board) and Hangman Knot ropes alongside. Randomly assign detectives to the other players then give them the matching screen, investigation sheet, interaction cards based on player count and a pen. To begin the game, the ghost will secretly read the story card to learn the backstory of the incident. They’ll put wound markers on the chalk outline (on the main board) as indicated on the card. Then the ghost reads the short description of their body’s appearance to get the detectives up to speed. Now it’s up to them to decipher what truly happened and how. Detective players will take turns asking the Ghost questions in an attempt to solve the mystery. On your turn as a detective, you’ll Ask the Ghost a question then (optionally) try to guess the story. You’re limited to two attempts throughout the game so you’ll want to refrain from guessing until you’re fairly confident. When asking a question, you’ll choose an Interaction card from your hand and play it, requesting an answer that requires more than a yes or no answer. There are a variety of cards that reference the different methods the Ghost is to answer your question. The Ghost will arrange three Tarot cards, use the Ouija board, adjust the markers on the Ghost meter, assist the detective in drawing a picture, create an image using the ropes, mouth the words, make a sound, mime or even “draw” on the detective’s back. All of the correspondence is available for everyone to see and hear except the one involving the drawing on the back. At the end of your turn, you’ll make notes on your notepad behind the screen. Ultimately, you’ll need to figure out who the victim is, where it occurred, the motive, how it happened and the direct cause of death. When you think you can answer it, you’ll announce the details as you think they apply. If you guessed all five then the game ends and you win. If you didn’t, then the Ghost will secretly make a note on your board with a number from 0-4 indicating how many of the five you got correct. After that, the Ghost marks on their own board (secretly) how many the detective got correct. The first three times there is an incomplete guess by any detective, the Ghost follows it up with a new clue for the entire group then play passes to the next detective. The game ends when either a detective correctly solves all the keys in the case (in which case, the detective and the Ghost are winners), all the detectives have used up all of their interaction cards or taken their two attempts at guessing. If nobody is able to unravel all the clues, then the Detective who correctly guessed the most keys is the winner. In the event of a tie, the winner is the one who reached that total first. Despite the paranormal theme, it isn’t a scary game. Lucky Duck Games has labeled more sensitive stories so they can be removed from the game when playing as a family. There’s also a variant to the game that makes it cooperative! If you’re ready for an upgrade to Clue, but enjoy a unique method for deciphering what happened then Paranormal Detectives is worth checking out. Do some investigative work with your local game store to see if they have copies available, otherwise pick one up on Amazon or direct from Lucky Duck Games. You can look for clues on Facebook and Twitter to discover what new releases are in the works. Have you ever used a Ouija board or participated in a séance?

Madagascar is one of the largest islands in the world. It is also the home to an alleged cryptid, called Fangalabolo. This next month we are planning an initial reconnaissance trip to look into the sightings of this nocturnal creature to determine if a full expedition might be warranted. Eye witnesses describe it as something like a giant bat with a 5-6 foot wingspan. The biggest bat known is the giant golden-crowned flying fox, which lives in the Philippines. It is about the same size (4-5 ft wingspan). But it hasn’t been known to live elsewhere. Might the Fangalabolo be a living pterosaur, something like the Kongamato of Africa, known in countries to the west? Even discovering a new species of giant bat would be quite exciting! Posted on September 2, 2019 by dwoetzel.

We recently interviewed Lyle Blackburn on the Monster Men to discuss his new movie, Boggy Creek Monster, and book, Monstro Bizzaro. If you’re obsessed with cryptids like I am, Lyle is one of the best investigators in the field today. His previous books, The Beast of Boggy Creek and Lizard Man have prominent positions on my bookshelf. When all was said and done, I realized I still had a few more questions I’d wanted to ask. So, here is the original video interview along with the bonus questions Lyle was kind enough to answer. Now let’s go squatchin! We’re very much alike in that we grew up fascinated by tales of Bigfoot and other creatures (as well as a fondness for The Creature from the Black Lagoon!). How did you take the leap from being a rocker in Ghoultown to cryptid reporter? LB : In addition to being a musician, I’ve always worked as a writer. Among other things, I wrote for a rock magazine and then for Rue Morgue (www.rue-morgue.com) as their cryptozoology-meets-horror columnist. I’ve always wanted to write a book, so I decided to take some time off from the band to pursue that. I ended up choosing one of my favorite subjects, The Legend of Boggy Creek. Once I started investigating these sort of cryptid cases and writing the books, I really enjoyed it so I continued. I always thought the job of a professional writer sounded boring, but this brought me to interesting places and I met interesting people as part of the writing process – not to mention it involved my fascination with cryptids. My band Ghoultown still plays and records, but we don’t tour like we used to. One of the best things you bring to the field of cryptozoology is your straightforward, journalistic approach to researching and educating people about creatures like the Boggy Creek Monster and the Lizard Man of Bishopville. You report the stories and the facts as they are without dramatization for the sake of titillating your readers. What made you decide to go in this direction and do you think the field needs more level headed reporting so it can be taken more seriously by the mainstream media and public? LB: I think these stories are fascinating unto themselves without trying to sway people toward a certain point of view. I just tell the story, report the facts, and let whatever evidence speak for itself. I like to take the reader along as I investigate and give them credit to make up their own mind. Who are some of your biggest influences and why? LB: As far as writing and cryptozoology, I would say John Green and Loren Coleman. Green always had a level-headed approach to Sasquatch research and presented the stories in an engaging way. He also paid attention to details and getting the facts correct as best he could. Coleman, of course, paved the way for the modern cryptozoology researcher and has investigated so many of the seminal cases. Many times as I’m doing research, when I trace an investigation back to its original source, Coleman was there first. I’m honored that he wrote the Foreword for my first book, The Beast of Boggy Creek. It’s like having one of your heroes endorse your efforts. So cool. Out of all the photographic and video evidence for Bigfoot, which to you is the most compelling evidence that it is real? And with just about everyone having a camera/videocam in their pockets, why aren’t we getting more solid evidence? Could it be we are but because it’s so easy to fake now, the real deal might be hiding in plain sight? LB: To me, the footprints represent the most compelling evidence. Examples such as the Elkins Creek cast from Georgia stand out, especially when I’ve been able to interview the police officer who originally discovered the track. As far as all the photos and videos, it’s really hard to discern between what might be real and what is a possible case of pareidolia or just outright fake. All the blurry shots don’t do us any good. We need something much clearer in this day and age, and even that is suspect since modern technology allows for such amazing CGI. Most people do carry a smart phone camera these days, but the lack of a clear photo shouldn’t be used as a basis to completely rule out the possibility of these creatures. Chance encounters typically last only a few moments, making it hard to pull out a phone, open the camera app, aim, and take a photo. I’m sure you’ve heard the Sierra Bigfoot recordings taken back in the 70s. What are your thoughts on it and other similar recordings? Most of them are downright chilling. LB: They’re definitely creepy and very compelling. In my opinion the Sierra Sounds are legit. And if it’s not a hoax, then that leaves very few possibilities beyond an undiscovered creature such as Bigfoot. I’ve heard recordings from other places which sound very similar; sent to me by credible individuals. They just don’t sound like any known animal. Do you have any plans to investigate the Skunk Ape in Florida? I have the Fate Magazine with the famous Skunk Ape picture on the cover and keep waiting for someone to hunker down and do some serious research in that corner of the country. LB: Earlier this year I visited the Ocala National Forest in Florida where there’s been a good amount of Skunk Ape sightings over the years. This was part of the research for my upcoming book, “Beyond Boggy Creek: In Search of the Southern Sasquatch” in which I document the history of Bigfoot sightings all over the Southern U.S. I dedicate an entire chapter of the book to the Skunk Ape, although there’s so much to this cryptid’s history and so many sightings, that I could write an entire book on it. Perhaps in the future. Follow Lyle Blackburn at http://www.lyleblackburn.com In the mood for a good cryptid book? Check these out… In honor of the return of Finding Bigfoot to the airwaves, I figured I’d list 11 (that’s right, mine goes to eleven!) Bigfoot movies for all you squatch lovers. I honestly feel that little show on Animal Planet is responsible for the rash of recent and upcoming Bigfoot movies – and in my book, that’s a good thing. Even better news for all you movie producers, the definitive Bigfoot movie has yet to be made. Find a writer, quality director and Adam Sandler cash and get to work. So, here’s the list. Thanks to Amazon, I’ve dropped in a quick synopsis for each followed by a 1 line personal review, because I can’t say no to Bigfoot movies, as well as my Squatch Rating of 1 to 5 Squatch Toes. There are dozens of sasquatch movies out there, the bulk being made in the 70’s and within the last few years. This should be a good place to start your squatch-ucation. THE LEGEND OF BOGGY CREEK A 1970s documentary-style drama questions the existence of a hairy 7ft tall Sasquatch-type monster that lives in a swap outside of Fouke, Arkansas. According to the locals the monster walks on two feet, has a characteristic smelly odor and kills chickens. Hunter : It put the low in low budget but is still a classic despite the terrible music. 2 1/2 Squatch Toes. CREATURE FROM BLACK LAKE Some fishermen are attacked in the Louisiana swamps. When the word gets out of a mysterious Bigfoot-type creature, two researchers come to a small town to study and hopefully discover what the beast is. Their research from some farmers help the two men to learn that the creature may be a very angry and murderous missing link. Hunter : Some actual, real life actors in here and though cheesy, has a couple of creepy moments. 3 Squatch Toes. Scientists mount an expedition to find a Bigfoot-type creature. (Wow, could they spare the words???) Hunter : Saw this as a kid in the theater and it scared the hell out of me, though I have a feeling I’d be less than impressed now. 2 Squatch Toes. NOT YOUR TYPICAL BIGFOOT MOVIE Dallas Gilbert and Wayne Burton, best friends from a dying former steel town in Ohio, are out to convince the world that Bigfoot exists. Hunter : A wonderful documentary that’s more about two old and broke friends searching for Bigfoot than the hair fella. 4 Squatch Toes. Based on found footage. A documentary filmmaker and his crew venture up to Siskiyou County to investigate the alleged Bigfoot sightings. Hunter : Three ass-tards get what they deserve in this dreadful found footage flick. 1 Squatch Toe. Jim (John Schneider) and his research team study the Canadian Lynx every year. This year, he has to take his rebelling 16 year-old daughter, Emmy (Danielle Chuchran), with him. But the lynx are missing. As Jim and his team–with the help of a local ranger (Jason London)–try to find out why, something stalks them–a predator no prey can escape. Hunter : Perfect to fall asleep to on a Saturday afternoon after mowing the lawn. 2 Squatch Toes. BIGFOOT : LOST COAST TAPES After a Bigfoot Hunter claims to possess the body of a dead Sasquatch, a disgraced journalist stakes his comback and the lives of his documentary crew on proving the finding to be a hoax. Hunter : Oddly strange yet effective found footage movie with the most bizarre ending any squatcher could conceive. 4 Squatch Toes. SHRIEK OF THE MUTILATED What is the grisly, hides secret of the murdering white yeti? A group of college students finds out when they venture to a mysterious island. Low budget and REALLY awful in places, but at times chillingly effective. A Shostokovich type score much like that used in THE BRAIN EATERS. Hunter : Considered by some to be an underground classic, but they’re all high. 2 Squatch Toes. THE BIGFOOT HUNTER : STILL SEARCHING In the summer of 2006, two Sasquatch hunters led a group of curious, young paranormal investigators into the hills of southern New York on a quest for evidence of the legendary beast known as Bigfoot. Hunter : This documentary surprised the hell out of me and is a a must watch for squatchers. 3 1/2 Squatch Toes. THE LEGEND OF BIGFOOT Wildlife chronicler Ivan Marx became one of the world’s most notorious Bigfoot researchers. This film documents his journey, with plenty of raw footage and unique insight. Marx’s quest takes the viewer throughout the wilds of Northern US and Canada, where we follow the trail of ravaged farm animals and stunned eyewitnesses that Bigfoot is leaving in his wake. Not to mention some of the most famous footage ever shot of the elusive creature! Hunter : A horribly shot nature flick that will bore you to no end. 1 Squatch Toe. Everything you know about Bigfoot is about to change. Follow the travels of the world renowned Bigfoot hunter, Tom Biscardi, and his Searching for Bigfoot team. You will follow the team as they search the country from Montana to New York in search of the world’s most elusive and mysterious beast. Tom Biscardi has been in search of Bigfoot for close to 34 years and you will see what he has discovered! Journey further and deeper into the world of Bigfoot then ever before in this award-winning documentary. Hunter : Find out why Tom Biscardi has been totally discredited by the Bigfoot community. No Squatch Toes. And there you have it, 11 Bigfoot movies that should keep you busy through November. And if you’re looking for some squatchy reading material, you can always pick up a copy of SWAMP MONSTER MASSACRE, where skunk apes get real…real angry! Want more squatch? Sign up for the Dark Hunter Newsletter for all the latest cryptid new, giveaways and more. Even chupacabras are encouraged to join in the fun.

South Carolina is famous for its subtropical beaches. Hilton Head Island is among the nation’s most visited coastal areas, and the state’s shoreline is so impressive that many visitors fail to consider what else South Carolina has to offer. In reality, however, there’s a lot of exciting things to do in the Palmetto State away from the beach. Here are some of the groups of people for whom South Carolina makes an ideal vacation destination. Freshwater fishing abounds in South Carolina. The state is famous for the prolific largemouth bass fishing in Lake Murray. You might reel in a two-pound crappie in Lake Wateree, while upstate at Lake Jocassee anglers search for trophy trout. Other game fish includes pickerel, walleye, sunfish and perch. South Carolina’s wild places offer a peaceful and idyllic setting for hunters. Those looking for deer, turkey and small game may visit Manchester State Forest, while boar hunting is popular in the swamp lands along the Savannah River. These species, as well as bear, coyote and bobcat, await those staying in a hunting camp Columbia SC or other locations. The state’s waterways are teeming with alligators, but hunters may catch a glimpse of the elusive Lizard Man, a cryptid that some claim is responsible for numerous car maulings over the last few decades. Few locations in America offer the rich history of South Carolina. One of our nation’s 13 original colonies, visitors can explore the past in Downtown Charleston where over a thousand historic homes, churches and other buildings line the streets. Civil War buffs will want to visit Fort Sumter, the site of the first battle of the war. The state’s sprawling plantations offer a snapshot of the antebellum south, any many feature impressive gardens and art collections. There is so much to see and do in South Carolina. Keep it in mind if you’re looking for a one-of-a-kind vacation destination.

A Whateley Universe story ElectroCute 1: A Short Tail Friday, February 16, 2007 – 3:07 pm “You’re dead meat, you little shit!” Jeremy Daniels shouted as he grabbed me from behind and threw me against the lockers while I was walking down the hallway. Aww damn. Jeremy, or Jerry as he preferred to be called, was one of the biggest guys at school and kind of your typical school bully, and I had been hoping to be well on my way home by the time he got out of detention. That probably would have worked if he had bothered going there instead of hunting me down like a polar bear would a nice juicy seal. He looked super pissed too. I didn’t need to ask him what he was angry about, it was the book report. Our Social Studies teacher Mrs. Kingston had returned them today and asked Jerry to stay after class. Apparently, I had aced mine while he flunked, who could have possibly predicted this outcome? Oh, wait, that would be everybody. Okay, so this may have been my own fault to some small degree, but he shouldn’t have threatened to beat me up if I didn’t do his book report for him. I was busy enough with my own, after all. I was still nice enough to do his for him though, just as he asked, that should count for something right? I wondered which part Mrs. Kingston didn’t like. Was it all of the spelling and grammar mistakes? I had worked hard to include all of those, and let me tell you it went against my geek nature. Was it the helpful crayon-drawn diagrams? Or was it the fact that I spelled his name ‘Jermy Daniels’ instead of the proper spelling? Whatever the problem was, Mrs. Kingston hadn’t been happy so Jerry wasn’t happy, and that meant that I was about to join the whole circle of unhappiness. It’s like the circle of life, but probably with more wedgies and swirlies for yours truly. Why did I poke the bear like that? It seemed like such a good idea at the time. Okay, time to assess the situation and figure out how to get myself out of this mess. There was a crowd gathering, not that that helped much, and even if every student at school showed up the crowd probably wouldn’t get big enough to get lost in. This wasn’t some big city, it was Churchill Manitoba, and unless you counted all of the tourists coming every year to see the polar bears the population was just under five hundred people. There were so few kids in town that our elementary and high schools were combined. Jerry and I were two of four people in our grade, the other two being Sarah Mathews and Jerry’s younger brother Rick. Jerry should have been in grade eleven but he had been held back, twice. Jerry was the biggest guy in school, with the worst temper, so I likely wasn’t going to get a lot of help from those kids in the crowd. It looked like Jerry had help though because Rick was standing right behind him. Come on! Two big guys against a shrimp like me who had seemed to miss puberty so far? Not that I was complaining… about the puberty thing, not the two big guys ready to pound on me. To top it off, they were trying to look all ‘Canadian gangsta’ with their hockey jerseys, flannel jackets, toques, and jeans that were like four sizes too big. I would just die if I got beaten to death by those two posers. I mean really, a Montreal Canadians jersey with blue, yellow, and green plaid over top? My poor eyes. I gave my best innocent smile and said sweetly, “Oh, hey Jerry. Funny we should meet here, in the school hallway of all places. You seem upset, what’s wrong?” “I got an F because of you, you little shit! Now Mrs. Kingston is making me write another report and I’ve only got a week to do it!” “Wow, that really sucks. Maybe you should have written it yourself the first time, or at least checked the work before turning it in,” I suggested, trying to keep my cool. Not that I had given him the time to check the work beforehand, I had given him his ‘report’ just before class had started on the day it was due. He must have recalled that little fact as well because that was when his fist flew toward my face, everything seemed to go into slow motion, and my life flashed before my eyes. I’d say a good ninety percent of it was spent alone in my room reading manga or watching anime. Good times. The only really notable thing was when my dad made me watch as he torched my secret stash of panties and all of my manga a couple of years ago. Damn, that was kind of depressing, I really thought there would be more but I was only fifteen. Stash of panties? Okay, yeah maybe that requires a little bit of explanation, I can’t just drop a bomb like that and expect nobody to comment on the explosion, right? You see, I always knew that I was different from the other boys in town. While they would roam the streets of Churchill, throw rocks at the polar bears, play hockey, write their names in the snow, or whatever it was that boys did with their time, I preferred to be by myself, imagining things, since the girls wouldn’t accept me and I obviously wasn’t one of the guys. I would sit in my room and make up stories of magic, gender swaps, and magical girls doing heroic things, like the anime and manga that I was so fond of. Dad was annoyed that I wasn't like the other boys. He would swear and glare at me, and when he thought I couldn't hear, he would wish that I wasn't there and he started spending even less time at home than before. I ignored it, but the day came when he found my secret stash of panties, and he laid into me. Why did I have them? They comforted me and made me feel a little more like myself. You see, I had a secret, I didn't think of myself as a boy. I was a girl; my body just hadn’t gotten the memo. And we now return you to the beating of a poor defenseless girl, already in progress. That fist had gotten pretty close and it was only my knees going weak on me that saved me from the blow. As I fell to the ground, Jerry’s fist sailed right over my head and into the locker, causing him to scream in pain. I, on the other hand, was eye-level with his crotch and that was when I was struck with a brilliant plan. While he was still screaming in pain, I put every ounce of strength into a punch to his balls. Yeah, I know that’s not something a guy should do but I’ve already established that I’m a girl and this was self-preservation, so that makes it okay, right? Jerry folded over with a gasping wheeze of pain and Rick came at me yelling obscenities so I yanked down his overly large pants, jumped to my feet to pull his toque down over his eyes, and ran for my life before they could collect themselves. I needed somewhere to hide, somewhere that no boy would ever think of, and then I saw it. The sign was illuminated with golden light, and choirs of angels sang… Okay, not really, but it was a safe haven, one that Jerry and Rick would never think to look for me in. I mean, what boy in their right mind would hide in the girls’ washroom? One who is really a girl, that’s what kind. It was perfect, it was brilliant… it was occupied. Wendy Gibson and Karen Price were inside and standing in front of the mirror as they chatted and touched up their makeup. They were a pair of Barbie wannabes dressed in slutty mostly pink clothes and I was pretty sure that I was the only natural blonde of the three of us. They were also BFFs, both were a grade above me, and Karen was Jerry’s girlfriend. “Seriously? My luck cannot be that bad,” I mentally grumbled. “Maybe if I just make my way casually to the stalls they won’t notice me, then I can hide there until this blows over. Yup, don’t mind me, I’m just one of the girls, here to do my business and then powder my nose, hopefully once you’re both long gone.” I managed to make it to the closest stall and had my hand on the door when their chatter stopped and Karen shrieked, “What are you doing in here, Nathan?! Get the fuck out, you little dweeb!” Damn. Well, I had already committed myself and I didn’t think they’d seen my face yet. They were probably just guessing because I was like the only one in town with longish blonde hair who had a penchant for wearing dark green hoodies. I tried to soften my voice as I asked, “Nathan? Oh, my cousin? Yeah, I’m his cousin… Natalie? Yeah, I came to come pick up my cousin after school, but I needed to use the facilities. I should really hurry, my… uhhh… cousin is waiting and all.” “Bullshit! You’re wearing Nathan’s clothes!” Karen snapped. I tried not to let my wince show and I certainly didn’t turn to face them, if they saw my face the jig would be up. This was not going at all to plan, and it had seemed like such a good idea at the time. “Oh! Well, I… uhh… had to borrow some of his stuff because I… ummm... my suitcase went missing on my flight from Vancouver and I didn’t have time to get it back before catching the plane here? Yeah, that’s totally it! You know, stupid airlines are always losing luggage,” I nervously rambled. For one brief moment, I thought that I might be in the clear as the pair of girls headed for the door. Until Karen opened it and shrieked as loud as she could, “Eeek! Nathan’s in the girl’s bathroom pretending to be a girl!” Time for plan B. As soon as I could come up with a plan B. I tore back out of the girls’ bathroom and squeezed past the two girls, intent on making my way for the school exit because this was no time to worry about my backpack, jacket, or homework. It was February so it was damn cold outside, but I’d give better odds at surviving that than the beating I was sure to get if I stuck around. I skidded past the girls on my way out only to slide headlong into Rick, bouncing off him and falling onto my butt. Standing behind Rick was Jerry, and he looked pissed. His right hand was already badly swollen and his face was a very unflattering shade of red that did not go with his outfit at all. He saw me right away and roared, “Your ass is mine now, you little faggot!” “Umm… hey, Jerry. I’m just throwing this out there, ‘butt’ you may want to rephrase that. It makes it sound more like you’re gay than I am. I’m not by the way, and even if I were, you wouldn’t be my type. Besides, think about the psychological effect that would have on poor Karen, you leaving her for me when I’m not even interested.” I just needed to keep him distracted until I could get to my feet and run for my life. I wasn’t even lying since I had no idea what my sexual preference was. I thought that I might be bisexual but Neanderthals did nothing for me and I didn’t even want to think about sexual attraction while my body insisted on betraying me by being male since it just brought my attention to that horrible thing between my legs. Still, it would seem that I should have said something else because that just got him angrier. That vein in his forehead pulsed and his face went from red to purple as he took a swing at me with his good hand. It was as I braced for the pain to come and considered that I should really get a handle on that brain to mouth thing that I heard Principal Taggart’s voice yell, “Daniels! Hanson! Get your asses to my office! Now!” Principal Taggart was a big burly man who doubled as our P.E. teacher, and he was holding on to Jerry’s arm, preventing the annihilation of my face. “Oh thank God. I’m alive!” I cackled in relief before I realized that ‘Hanson’ meant me and that Mr. Taggart had a no mercy policy. “I am so dead.” Principal Taggart brought down the hammer. To him there were no bullies and bullied, only kids fighting in his school, so my arguments fell upon deaf ears. The upshot was that Jerry was expelled since he’d already had his last ‘warning’ and I was suspended for two weeks. How was this a punishment? My worst enemy banished from school for good, I got two weeks off, and I wasn’t even dead. Not yet anyway, since I had no idea how my dad was going to react. Phone calls were made and while Jerry’s mother was coming to pick him and Rick up, my dad was working and told the principal to just send me home so he could ‘deal with me later’. No, that didn’t sound ominous at all. I needed to come up with a plan. So that’s what I attempted to do as I walked home to the apartment building, looking over my shoulder the entire way. Jerry may be kicked out of school, but I wasn’t dumb enough to think we’d never cross paths again in a town as small as Churchill. As I walked, I wondered what I would do for my two weeks off. Who was I kidding? I’d probably be staying in my room most of the time watching anime and reading manga on my computer since I’d probably be grounded the whole time anyway. It was too cold to be outside much anyway and it wasn’t like there was anything to do in town for those of us who actually lived in Churchill. I’d already been to all of the local tourist spots too many times to count. Prince of Wales Fort, the cannon battery at Merry Point, the Miss Piggy plane wreck, and the Eskimo Museum. They really needed to change the name of that last one. Eskimo is actually a racial slur, it means raw meat eater or something, it’s essentially calling them uncivilized savages. I did a paper on them for school once and the correct term for their people is Inuit, and an individual is called an Inuk. Anyway, other than the tourist spots, the only thing to do was go on an expedition with one of the touring companies to see beluga whales, polar bears and the northern lights. Been there, done that, thanks. Plenty of times and I never needed to shell out money for a tour. “Oooh! A polar bear! I’ve never seen one of those before.” Sure, if you’re a tourist it’s probably cool but I guarantee if it’s a local saying that, then there’s a lot less excitement and a lot more sarcasm. Home, sweet home. Well, not really, since my dad lived there too. Not even my bedroom was really a safe alone space since Dad had no concept of privacy and was constantly inspecting my room since he had torched my prize possessions. The apartment was a small two-bedroom place but we probably could have afforded a house on what Dad made from the oil company, if he didn’t drink most of that money away. I thought again about asking my mother if I could go to live with her, but honestly, I just didn’t know her very well. I could be going from bad to worse. She and my dad got divorced when I was two and I hadn’t seen her face to face since then, I could barely remember what she looked like. Mom and Dad split due to ‘philosophical differences’, which is lawyer talk for ‘they hated each other’s guts’. From what little I had been able to get out of my dad’s rants it was because he was a bigoted misogynistic asshole and he discovered that when she wanted to go back to work, she wasn’t talking about selling Avon or some shit. Dad got pissed that Mom was returning to her duties in the navy, and that what she did for them was classified. I always thought that there was more to it than that though since my father called her an unfit mother and made sure to get sole custody of me. It couldn’t have been just the navy thing, Dad had known that she was in the navy when they met, hell I was born at the Canadian Forces Base Esquimalt on Vancouver Island. Well, that’s what my birth certificate said anyway. Mom once told me that I was actually born two months premature on the HMCS Vancouver, while she was still working on light duty. I figured that he was just pissed about her returning to active duty in the navy because he felt that, as a woman, she should be at home raising the children while he worked. He probably didn’t like the secrets either. Dad hated secrets when he wasn’t in on them. In the end though the whys weren’t important since I didn’t have much choice in the matter. So I ended up with my dad in Churchill of all places. I did have some contact with my mom. She called on my birthdays and Christmas to talk to me and sent me gifts or money occasionally. I had a feeling that she might take me in if I asked her. She seemed concerned about my safety and often asked if everything was okay with me living with Dad. When I was thirteen, she had even given me a secure number to call her at if I ever needed her for anything. Though there were like three layers of confirmation phrases, code phrases, and stuff that she made me memorize so she could be sure it was me; the story of my birth being one of them. It was kind of cool, it made me feel like a spy or something. Every time that she called, she would give me new phrases to memorize to replace the old ones. I hadn’t brought up my gender issues with Mom yet though, which was part of the reason that I was reluctant to ask if I could go live with her. What if she reacted as badly as Dad had when he found my panties and I had tried to explain? If I ever managed to somehow forget just how badly that had gone, there were always the scars to remind me. He had taken his belt and given me so many lashes across the back and my butt that I had lost count in the haze of agony that had followed. Any time since that he had caught me doing anything even remotely feminine, he repeated the lesson. Since I was a naturally feminine girl, that was often, and it took months before I ‘learned’ and could sit in a chair properly again. I still received ‘lessons’ from time to time, because this is me we’re talking about. The mere thought had me wincing and glancing nervously toward the door. After a few calming breaths I tried to put those dark thoughts out of my mind as I tidied up the apartment, did the dishes, and started a load of laundry. Housework was my responsibility, to earn my keep. My dad was such a hypocrite. He was always after me to man-up and stop acting like a ‘little faggot’ but he had me doing all the housework, something that he always complained was a woman’s work. The only good thing about me doing the household chores was that Dad wouldn’t see my panties because I was the one doing the laundry. I had learned some things since the burning two years earlier. I only read manga or watched anime on my computer and I kept my panties hidden in a much more secure location. I didn’t buy the panties myself either, I couldn’t because my Dad always made sure that he was with me whenever I went clothes shopping. No, the panties had come as a part of a care package from my friend Rika in Japan. At least I thought she was from Japan, since she told me to call her Rika and the package had come from Tokyo. Rika and I had met online playing an MMORGP called Ergan’s Tears and had become good friends. She played a sexy winged demon warrior and I was a support class from the Nikandri race. Nikandri were a gender-locked race of catgirls. As soon as I saw them in the game preview, I just knew that I had to play one. Why? Because catgirls are undeniably awesome, who wouldn’t want to play one? Well, Rika didn’t, but we were good friends anyway. We talked and gamed together every day and were both considering trying that really popular game that everyone was talking about lately, GEO. She was a lot like me I guess, a bit of a loner with no real friends so she threw herself into gaming. We had met during a raid and from some of the things she had said, I thought she might be lonely. If anyone could get how that felt, it was me. As we got to know one another she became sort of like a big sister to me, more than friends but not really interested in each other as anything else. She even gave me her phone number and told me to call her if I ever needed anything. Rika was the only one who knew about my gender issues and the problems at home because, even though she played a somewhat demonic character and had a bit of a perverse sense of humor, I trusted her. She had even helped me come up with a girl’s name, something that I could call myself and feel that it was me. It was with her help that Felicia was born, and I could feel like I had someone who I could truly be myself with. Someone who I didn’t have to pretend to be Nathan for. She was worried about me living with my dad still though and was trying to convince me to talk to my mom about living with her, or finding some other place to stay that was safe. She even offered to help if I ever needed to leave in a hurry, or help take care of things if Dad became too much, though I wasn’t sure how she could do that from Tokyo. I was too scared to take her up on it anyway, what if my dad found me? Besides, as I said, I didn’t really know my mom very well. Anyway, for Christmas Rika had sent me a care package with a bunch of different snacks from Japan and a USB drive with a whole bunch of manga scans. She knew me so well; most of them had catgirl characters. That would have been cool enough but she had also included three pairs of Shimapan that she had bought for me after getting my measurements. I fell in love with Pocky and rice crackers that day that I opened the package, but I treasured the striped panties far more and kept them well hidden. Usually I only wore them on days when I was sure that my Dad wouldn’t be home until long after I was asleep, and then I’d change out of them before bed. Fridays were usually a good day for that but I was worried about Dad coming home straight after work to ‘deal with me’ before going out for his usual Friday night activities so I didn’t want to risk it. Somehow, I didn’t think he’d accept, “But the stripes are blue, that’s a boy’s color,” as a legitimate excuse. Not wearing them was a good move on my part since not long after I had finished the dishes and started the load of laundry, the front door flew open and my father yelled, “Nathan! You better be home, boy!” My heart raced and I nearly hit my head on a shelf in the fridge as I jumped at the sound of his voice. He sounded mad, not that that was unusual. I pulled my head out of the fridge where I had been searching for something to make for dinner, took a deep breath, and swallowed the lump of terror lodged in my throat. “Yeah, I’m in the kitchen, Dad.” With trembling hands, I closed the fridge and made myself walk toward the front door to face the music. Dad looked me over appraisingly for a moment before asking, “What’s this about you getting suspended, boy? I was told you were in a fight but I don’t see a mark on you, and no way a fucking pansy like you was gonna win, unless you were fighting a girl. Even then…” Somehow, I managed to keep my voice somewhat steady as I replied, “It was Jerry, Dad. It… uhh… wasn’t much of a fight though. Two hits, I hit him and he hit the floor. The principal stopped us before it could get very far.” That was kinda true, he never hit me just the locker, and he folded right over and fell to the ground when I punched him in the jewels. He snorted derisively as he sneered at me. “Don’t lie to me, boy. No way a shrimp like you took down Eddie Daniels’s kid. You probably took a cheap shot. Still, a win’s a win. Sometimes you gotta fight dirty. What got into you, boy?” “Umm… adrenaline?” I suggested uncertainly as I frantically tried to come up with something that wouldn’t earn me another beating. “Maybe puberty is finally hitting me? Rrrrr! Testosterone! Rawr!” Meanwhile, I silently prayed that wasn’t the case. “About fucking time, boy, maybe we’ll make a man outta you yet,” Dad said, and I had to suppress a shudder at that thought. “I’d ground you, but then you’d just end up doing God-knows-what in your bedroom. No, I got something better in mind. Something to make a man outta you. We’re going camping for the weekend, so be up by six and ready to go.” “But Daaaaad,” I began to complain. He turned to me, his hand raised to strike, and my wince at the movement cut off my protests before I could voice them. “No buts, boy! I’ve already decided, this’ll be good for you. It’ll get those queer little thoughts outta your head and I can teach you to be a real man.” "But it’s February and we’re in Northern Canada. Why not just strip me naked and set me adrift on an ice floe? It'd get rid of me much faster!" I argued. Once again, my brain registered too late, what my mouth had said. "Don't give me ideas, you mouthy little shit! I said no buts and I fucking mean it!” he snarled, his hand whipping out and making good on the intended blow this time. I was knocked to the floor and I could almost feel the bruise forming from the heat on my cheek as my head spun. Tears came to my eyes and I tried to hold them back this time, I really did, but it didn’t matter since he’d already turned his back to me to head toward the door. “You’ll be up and ready by six or I’ll tan your hide to within an inch of your life. I’m going to my meeting.” Then he was out the door again. Dad’s meetings were nothing more than a bunch of guys hanging out at the local pub and drinking until closing. There were six of them usually; my Dad, some of the guys he worked with at the oil company, and the only MCO agent stationed in Churchill. I don’t know what he did to get stationed in the ass-end of the north, we hadn’t had a mutant show up in Churchill since I’d been living there, but something told me that he wasn’t one of those MCO agents willing to give mutants a fair shake. Considering that my Dad and his other friends all had ties to Humanity First and Great White North, it wasn’t hard to figure out what they probably talked about in those meetings. H1! in Manitoba took about as militant a stance against mutants as you could get. GWN was sort of like Canada’s version of the KKK. If you weren’t white, male, and praising almighty God then you needed to be shown your place. I knew just enough about them to know that I didn’t want any part of those meetings. They’d be bitching about immigrants, ‘Eskimos’, ‘uppity bitches’ who didn’t know their places, and mutants. They could only really do anything about mutants though since going after anyone else would be a hate crime and GWN sects had been successfully prosecuted before for that. Not many provinces had passed legislation protecting mutants yet, though those working for the RCMP or armed forces were given some protection by law. I tried to put it all out of my mind as I made myself a quick meal of fish and chips and then settled in for a nice bubble bath before gaming and chatting with Rika for a couple of hours. Rika was glad that I wasn’t seriously hurt, but once again she seemed worried about my safety when I mentioned that he’d hit me again. A worry that she had no qualms about voicing in our chat window. Fallen~1: -You really should talk to your mom, Felicia.- Kutiekitty: -What if she freaks out though?- I countered, already feeling the butterflies dancing in my tummy at the mere thought. Fallen~1: -Then at least you’ll know, and we can start making other plans. You’re not safe with that asshole you call your father, and if she says no then I can start looking into somewhere safer where you can start your transition. I can help you; I can get you out of there if you’ll let me. I think that you need to give your mom a chance first though.- Kutiekitty: -I’ll try to call her this week, after we’re back from this stupid camping trip. I should be able to do it while Dad is at work with my suspension. Then I won’t risk him coming in or overhearing.- I felt ready to vomit as I made that promise. Why was it that I could jump headlong into doing stupid and sometimes dangerous things without a second thought, but the thought of telling my mom that I was a girl inside terrified me? Who was I kidding? I was scared that she’d reject me, just like Dad. Fallen~1: -Good, I’ve been worried about you. I’ll start looking into safe places that I can take you, just in case.- Rika had seemed to take my promise at face value and we hurried on to finish our dungeon run, but all the while I could feel the knots in my stomach becoming ever tighter. I didn’t even stop to think how a teenage girl on the other side of the world could possibly help me. After another hour, I begged off playing anymore for the night to watch a few episodes of Magical Meow Meow Taruto to take my mind off things before curling up in bed. I wish that I could say that camping with my dad would end up being the worst experience of my life, but sadly, I had a lot to choose from just living with him on a daily basis. The experience was likely to be pretty high up there though. I woke up at five a.m. and Dad already had things mostly ready to go. I wondered if he had even slept after getting home from drinking; he smelled like a brewery and didn’t look in any condition to be driving us anywhere, let alone somewhere with plenty of trees to crash into. Sleeping bags and other camping gear had been removed from the storage closet and placed in the front hall and he was filling a cooler with various things from the fridge and cupboards since it wasn’t hunting season and we couldn’t hunt for our food. He was vocally bitching about the latter and promised/threatened another such trip in the future to teach me to kill poor defenseless animals. He was still bringing a rifle along though, for protection. Personally, I was glad to be able to avoid murdering cute forest denizens for sport. Just the mere thought of killing adorable little bunnies or squirrels made me sick to my stomach. Cute things should be protected by law or something. Dad didn’t even let me get a shower in before he had me carrying everything down to his 4x4, I barely even had time for a quick bowl of cereal while Dad downed like three cups of coffee. I might have had some myself if I didn’t hate the taste of coffee. It was too bitter for me; though I was sorely tempted to try to choke some down to wake myself up at that ridiculous hour. It wasn’t even close to light outside yet. I managed to sleep a little more in the truck on the way to the middle of nowhere that Dad seemed to be intent on taking us to. If he killed us both while driving into a tree or something, I didn’t want to be awake for it. My face was already tender and achy from the bruise and split lip that Dad had left when he had hit me the previous night. Before I had conked out, I had been able to determine that we were heading south and toward the tree line. I was still shaking the sleep off and debating whether I was happy to still be alive or not when Dad put me to work setting up camp. The bastard just sat in a lawn chair in the bed of the truck and watched while he made me do all the work for getting camp ready; building a snow cave for us to sleep in that night, gathering and chopping firewood, and every other little thing that he could think of. Okay, maybe he wasn’t just sitting there, he was also shouting out instructions and verbally abusing me whenever I wasn’t doing something to his personal satisfaction. Case in point, it was nearing noon and I was sweating like Niagara Falls under all my layers. I was chopping firewood, already exhausted from all the other physical labor that he’d had me doing, when he shouted out, “You chop wood like a girl, you little fucking sissy! Put your fucking weight into it! Use your goddamn shoulders!” “Of course I do, I am a girl,” I grumbled to myself. “What was that, boy?” “I… uhh… said, ‘I’ll give it a whirl?’ Right… weight… shoulders, I got it, Dad,” I sputtered out quickly to avoid being hit again and to cover up yet another mouth/brain miscommunication. After a quick lunch, as we were tromping through the trees I came to the conclusion that this trip was for the sole purpose of making me miserable. I was exhausted, sick of the verbal abuse, and freezing despite wearing several layers beneath my outer clothes, including a polar fleece sweater. It was as I was complaining, this time remembering to use my inside voice so Dad couldn’t hear me, that something moving in the trees caught my attention. I stopped, scanning the area where I had seen the motion, and my eyes locked onto some sort of cat. It was quite a bit larger than a house cat but smaller than I had imagined cougars or other hunting cats to be. The snow was making it hard to make out details other than the reddish fur and those yellow-green eyes that were currently locked onto my own. For a long moment, our eyes remained locked as we stared at one another. It was almost as if we had some sort of spiritual connection. The sound of a gunshot ringing out ended our stare-down as the large feline turned and disappeared amongst the trees and I was left there with my heart beating wildly in my chest as I tried to figure out what just happened. “Bobcat,” I heard my dad mutter beside me. “Never heard of one this far north before. Let’s get back to camp, boy, it’s getting hard to see with all this snow.” Dinner that night consisted of hot dogs cooked over a roaring fire and a bag of barbecue-flavored potato chips. I wasn’t all that surprised when Dad took a six-pack of beer out of the cooler, but I was when he opened two of them and handed one to me. What the hell? The legal drinking age in Manitoba is eighteen and I was a good three years shy of that. “We might make a man out of you yet, Nathan,” my father said grudgingly as he pressed the can into my hands. “Drink up; it’ll put hair on your chest. You’re only getting one though, so enjoy it.” ‘Enjoy’ wasn’t quite the verb that I would use to adequately describe my first experience drinking beer. Seriously, it tasted like rancid urine. Okay, maybe I don’t have an actual basis for that comparison, but I’m pretty sure that it would be accurate. I slowly choked it down though because who knew how Dad would react if I couldn’t drink it ‘like a real man’, especially once he had downed a few of his own. I was of mixed feelings by the time Dad announced that it was time for us to climb into the snow cave for some sleep. On one hand, I was almost warm sitting by the fire and I had nearly forgotten what that felt like. But on the other hand, I just wanted to sleep so that this whole testosterone-laden father/’son’ torture would be over that much sooner. Surprisingly, I slept well, though I did dream of my earlier encounter with the bobcat. Dad woke me early the next morning, hoping that we could have some time to teach me to shoot a gun before we had to make the return trip home since he had work the next day. Fortunately, the weather killed that idea. It was snowing heavily again and it didn’t look like it would be stopping any time soon so Dad reluctantly decided to pack up and head home early. Personally, I was deeply grateful for the weather once we had packed everything back in the truck and Dad was slowly driving us back to what passed for civilization this far north. For my part, I enjoyed a nice long nap so I didn’t have to talk to my father or listen to his cursing. Soon we were home, and I was awoken by my father slamming the truck door closed. For some reason, my back was super itchy, though it seemed to go away as Dad and I hurried to get everything inside and put away. The damp sleeping bags I put in the dryer on low-heat so they didn’t end up all musty smelling. I wasn’t sure why Dad was in a hurry to get out of the apartment, but he left most of it for me to finish while he went who knows where to do who knows what. Probably something with his bigot friends and I was probably better off not knowing. I was in a rush to get everything put away though because I was absolutely starving. I’d been really hungry before we left camp and we hadn’t eaten breakfast so now I was ridiculously hungry since I’d woken from my nap. I had to make two ham and cheese omelets to fill the void before I decided to shower off my outdoors experience. I wanted to feel clean and then maybe just relax in my room and watch anime or play Ergan’s Tears for the rest of the day. First, though, I wanted to brush my teeth to get the taste of stale beer and lingering morning breath out of my mouth. I grabbed my toothbrush and was reaching for the toothpaste when something unusual caught my attention and I turned my gaze toward the mirror. Normally, I tried to avoid looking at my reflection if at all possible, it just wasn’t me and I hated seeing that boy reflected back at me, but something seemed off and it nagged at me until I paused my brushing and turned to face the mirror head-on. My toothbrush fell from my dropped jaw and all I could do for a moment was stare. My eyes had changed. My normally dull grey irises were now a bright seafoam green, a color that didn’t belong on a human any more than the slit pupils housed within them. The large bruise on my cheek and split lip that Dad had left me with the night before last were gone too. There was no trace of them. For a moment, I just stood there staring at my reflection and blinking in stunned shock. There was something else weird about my eyes too but I couldn’t place what it was until another set of eyelids blinked horizontally. I damn near screamed, but that was aborted as my breath caught in my throat and my heart clenched in fear. It took me several minutes before I was able to gasp out, “What the heck was in that beer?” The reflection in the mirror hadn’t changed, despite my staring and trying to will it so. I was reasonably certain that hangovers didn’t cause a person’s eyes to suddenly change or grow a new set of eyelids. I was pretty sure I would have noticed that with my Dad getting wasted two or three nights a week for as far back as I could remember. So, unless the beer was radioactive, I didn’t think it would have caused something like this. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s think positive, Felicia. Maybe you’re having a bad reaction to the alcohol or it was spiked and this is just a really bad acid trip or something. Or wait… you were just seeing things. That’s right, you were just seeing things because there’s no way that could have happened. You’re going to open your eyes and everything will be… shit.” Nope, I still had weird bright green eyes and extra horizontal eyelids. My tooth brushing and potential shower were both quickly forgotten as I raced to my room, turned on my computer, and started an internet search. What I found didn’t calm me down any. The only thing I could find on suddenly changing eye color was the one thing that I had been fearing the most, the early signs of a mutant manifesting. Nononono! I couldn’t be a mutant; my father would kill me. No figuratively or hyperbole about it, if Dad and his friends found out about this they would actually kill me. I’d be tied to a big wooden H outside and set on fire. That was if they were feeling generous or couldn’t find nails big enough. I’d heard how my dad talked about mutants, he and his friends wanted to kill all of them… and now them included me. The website that I was looking at mentioned that people who think they might be mutants should look for any other obvious physical changes or anything unusual happening to or around them. Well, there was the bruise that had healed, and…Wait, my back had been super itchy when I woke up earlier, what if I was growing weird extra appendages or something? I quickly made my way to the bathroom and removed my shirt, using the bathroom mirror and a small hand mirror to look at my back. It wasn’t perfect but I was able to see back there, and what I saw made me nearly drop the mirror. The scars on my back were gone, either that or so faint that I couldn’t see them anymore. To my new eyes, the skin was smooth, soft-looking, and covered with faint spots of discoloration. In a panic, I began to search for any other obvious changes. After a long look at my face, I thought that I could see subtle changes. Not only had my eyes changed to their strange new color and appearance but they looked slightly larger and the lashes were a bit thicker. There were other changes in my face too, very subtle ones that made me look more feminine as if I was inching out of preteen boy territory and toward the girl zone. I only really noticed because I was looking, but overall, the change was extremely subtle. Was I somehow turning into a girl? Because that would be awesome, at least until my dad murdered me. I didn’t find anything else obvious, but I had a sinking suspicion that this was only the beginning. I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like my hair might be changing color at the roots too. Other than that, I couldn’t find anything else obvious, yet. What the hell was I going to do? “Oh no!” I thought, gasping as I felt myself start to panic. My hands were shaking, I suddenly couldn’t breathe, and my heart was racing so fast that I feared it might explode. “What if Dad saw my eyes?! What if he noticed the bruise was gone?! What if he’s going to talk to his H1! friends and they’re coming back here right now?!” I scrambled to think back, going over everything that had happened since I woke up that morning in my mind. I had slept the entire way home in the truck so my eyes had been closed and Dad had probably had to keep both eyes on the road anyway with all that snow coming down. I had been wearing a parka and scarf so my face was obscured too. We had barely exchanged words when packing and unpacking the truck and when I did talk to my dad, I usually kept my eyes downcast. He liked that, it made him feel in control and it made it easier for me to avoid giving things away with my facial expressions. He had also left practically as soon as we had everything from the truck brought inside. I was still dressed for outside so maybe he just didn’t notice. “No, I’m pretty sure that he didn’t see anything, if he had I would probably be black and blue, and well on my way to a bonfire in my honor by now,” I told myself as I attempted to calm down and think things through. “It isn’t that unusual for Dad to go out and do things with his buddies on Sunday either. I think this was actually the most time we’ve ever spent together on a weekend.” Maybe I should have called my mom like I had promised Rika, or even talked to Rika to ask for advice, but being a mutant changed everything. I had been worried enough about the possibility of my mom rejecting me when I just had to tell her that she had a daughter instead of a son, but now I was positively petrified at the thought. The possibility of her rejecting me had just increased exponentially. Could I even trust Rika? Sure, she had taken the whole transgender thing pretty well; in fact, she had guessed it before I could even tell her. She was like a big sister to me, but how would she take me being a mutant? As much as I trusted and cared for her, I just wasn’t sure who I could trust, especially while people knew exactly where to find me. I promised myself that I would call her and my mom once I was out of Churchill and on the move. It would be safer for me and I could try to gauge their reactions. If all went well, maybe one of them would help me. That being said, I needed to come up with a plan to get the hell out of Churchill and keep people from suspecting anything until then. The next train out of town would be on Wednesday evening, so I would have to make sure nobody noticed anything until then. I could probably play at having a cold from that stupid camping trip until then and stay in my room for the most part. If I had to go outside for any reason, I could cover up with a toque and parka and wear sunglasses. It was freaking freezing out there anyway and it wasn’t too uncommon to wear sunglasses outside during the winter months to protect from snow blindness so I wouldn’t get a second glance, at least during daylight hours. Then on Wednesday, I would just have to catch the train. Okay yeah, so I knew about the slight flaw in that plan. I was a minor and there was no way I would be able to convince my dad to buy me a train ticket so I could run away. Well, I wasn’t planning on getting on at the station, I mean, how hard could it be to catch a moving train? I was a mutant now, so I had to have cool powers, right? I had three days to find out what they were. By Friday night, I would be in Winnipeg and deciding whether to go east or west. I could do this, what could possibly go wrong? Wednesday, February 21, 2007 – 1:13 pm It was Wednesday afternoon and things had started out so well; Sunday evening I had managed to convince my dad through the closed bedroom door that I had a cold. It wasn’t really even all that hard. I mean, what kid in their right mind would claim to be sick when they were already suspended from school for the next two weeks? Especially when they weren’t grounded for receiving said suspension. So, I had managed to keep Dad off my back for the past few days, and while he was at work I tried to get an inventory of any other changes or cool powers that I might have. The powers were the hard part. I seemed to be able to see perfectly in the dark, even if everything was in shades of gray. I wasn’t sure if I could call that a power though, just something from having these weird eyes? Don’t get me wrong, night vision is cool but it made it hard to get to sleep those first couple of nights. The only other thing that I had noticed that could be a power was the way that I was changing while I was asleep. It only seemed to be while I was asleep too, I had been checking the mirror every hour or so while awake to try to monitor any changes but there was nothing. Then, bam! I go to sleep and wake up looking subtly more different in the morning and possessing an enormous appetite. By this morning, I had grown three centimeters in height and my hair had grown a similar amount in length. The latter was definitely changing color by the way. It seemed like I was going from being a blonde to a ginger, even my eyebrows were starting to show it. The scars on my back were now completely gone, replaced by smooth and unblemished skin and my facial features had continued to change subtly as well. I wasn’t looking full-on girl yet but I was definitely into the territory of a gender-neutral young teen. The real problem was the hair, and not the stuff rapidly growing from the top of my head. I had just finished shaving that completely so not even stubble showed. As much as it had pained me to do it, with three centimeters of ginger showing it was that or dye it. Since it was growing so fast, I thought that the latter made more sense. I had plucked the ginger hairs from my still dominantly blonde eyebrows too and fastidiously gathered up all of my shorn locks and the razor that I had used in a plastic bag to toss in a dumpster later. I didn’t want to leave any evidence and if I ran into anyone I knew, or my dad managed to see me before I left town, I wanted them searching for a blond male runaway, not a redheaded girl. It was the body hair that was the issue. I had these fine little hairs sprouting all over my body and I was kinda freaking out about them. I had this horrible fear clutching at my heart that maybe I was starting to go through male puberty. That I would end up having this big hairy male body with a pretty girl’s face on it. Okay, sure, they were hardly noticeable and it wasn’t like they were dark or anything, but that didn’t help prevent me from freaking out about them. I had no time to wax or shave it all off the normal way so I fished my dad’s electric razor out of the medicine cabinet and attempted to shave off the annoying little hairs. Attempted, is the operative word there. As soon as it touched my arm, the damn thing died in a flash of sparks and a puff of smoke. Damn cheap razor. I decided that I would have to deal with my body hair problem later. I had my bolt bag ready to go by my window but the only food that I had to throw in there was a couple of energy drinks and a half dozen granola bars. I had been eating us out of groceries since Sunday and with the appetite that I was waking up with every morning, what little I had in the bag wasn’t going to last for a two-day train ride with no access to the dining car. I still had a couple of hours before Dad would be getting home so I figured that I could go toss the hair, pick up some stuff from the grocery store and then be on my way. If I had been thinking clearly, instead of about my potential future career in the circus as ‘the ape-man with a girl’s face’ I would have just taken the bolt bag with me and headed to the train tracks after. I’ve always been easily distracted though and, in my current state, grabbing it slipped my mind as I bundled up against the cold and then hurried out of the apartment. I should have remembered the damn bag because I would never see it again. It started to snow as I made a quick detour to toss the bag of hair into the bottom of a mostly empty dumpster near the river. We had a lot of tourists in town at the moment with the Churchill River frozen over. It was a good time of the year for polar bear viewing and walks on the river were a big part of the tour experience when they weren’t out on the bay looking for belugas. That dumpster would fill up quickly over the next day or two. With that task complete, I managed to put the hair worries out of my mind and that was when I realized that I had forgotten my duffel bag. I promised myself that I would go to get it before Dad got home, but just in case, I stopped at one of the souvenir places since I was near the river anyway. The duffel was nearly full of clothes and stuff so I figured that I’d need something more to carry the food in and bought a large backpack that came with a thermos in a side pouch for hot drinks. It was the kind of thing aimed at the tourists going out on hiking tours along the frozen river. I was sorely tempted to get one in pink, but I didn’t want to tempt fate in case someone that I knew recognized me so I went with a nice plum-colored one instead. It wasn’t overtly girly and I liked the color. As covered as I was against the weather, and wearing my sunglasses, Mr. Jameson didn’t even recognize me. He probably thought that I was just another tourist since a lot of them were dressed in a similar manner. So, as I paid he just said, “Thank you, Miss, have fun on your tour.” Okay, maybe I helped things along by trying out my girl voice with him, but damn did I feel the warm fuzzies when he called me that. Once I had left the store, I took the tags off the backpack, put it on, and then made my way to the grocery store. I didn’t dare repeat the girl thing there. I had only ever really seen Mr. Jameson in passing, we didn’t know one another, but since I did the grocery shopping most of the cashiers knew me. They also had a policy about no face coverings in the store except for glasses. Lucky for me sunglasses counted, as long as they could see my face beneath them, and it was hardly the first time I’d gone into the store and forgotten to take off my shades. I loaded up on soft drinks, hot cocoa mix, energy bars, beef jerky, trail mix, instant oatmeal, cheese, crackers, and two one-liter bottles of water. I wanted things that would keep for a while and be easy to transport but still fill my stomach. The cashier didn’t say a word as she took my payment and stuffed my purchases into plastic bags. I was used to it, to people being distant and unfriendly. I wasn’t sure if it was because my dad was an asshole and everyone expected the same from me, or if maybe I was just relegated to the local gossip mill. You know, the poor kid that everyone knew was being abused but was too scared to try to help even, if it was in there in the back of their minds. “Yup, a real travesty. Oh well, time to move on with my day now.” I don’t think I’ll ever understand people. Once I was outside, I adjusted my scarf, put my gloves back on, and somehow managed to stuff everything that I had bought into the backpack. It wasn’t until I had the backpack on and was across the parking lot and heading back to the apartment building through the falling snow that my bad day really began. Jerry was across the street and we both noticed one another in the same instant. Even with his face partially covered, I recognized Jerry from his bomber jacket and that ridiculous-looking toque that he always wore; I think his colorblind grandmother made it for him. I think he figured out who I was under all of the layers because of my small size and the fact that I wasn’t in school, or maybe because he had some sort of supernatural bully-sense. Yeah, I’m going to have to go with the bully-sense, because the moment that our eyes met he started coming at me with murderous intent while yelling, “I’m gonna cream you, you little faggot!” I bolted down the sidewalk like a frightened rabbit with Jerry hot on my heels. I needed to lose him, fast. The problem with towns as small as Churchill though, is that there just aren’t that many side streets, back alleys, or busy shopping areas to get lost in. Or rather, to lose someone in. A quick look behind me showed that Jerry was starting to lag behind while I was hardly even getting winded yet, I must be in better shape than I thought. Even if I could keep this up though, there weren’t many places to hide that weren’t obvious. That’s when I saw the large crowd by the river and the idea hit me. I didn’t need a hiding place, I needed camouflage. Oh, yes! That was perfect! I could lose him in one of the tour groups. I injected myself into the crowd and then looked for a suitable ‘buddy’. There! A girl in a bright pink parka and a backpack that matched my own. She was taller than me by a large margin, but then most kids my age were. She looked to be Native, or possibly Metis, with cinnamon skin, cocoa eyes, and long black hair peeking out from her hood and toque. At least she looked around my age, and since I didn’t know her from school it meant that she wouldn’t know me either. I tried to channel Karen and Wendy from school as I approached and put a big smile on my face. “Hi! It is, like, so awesome to see someone who’s not old here.” The other girl turned to look at me and her face lit up. “Hi! I’m Danielle, but most people call me Dani. Are you going on the tour too? It’s nice to see another girl close to my age. I’m fourteen. You’re what, twelve? Thirteen?” I could have taken that time to clarify that I was fifteen and just arriving fashionably late to the puberty party, but I figured that it was best to lay low and let people think what they would. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea to use my real name either. “Uhhh… yeah, I’m thirteen, my name’s… uhh… Sarah! Most people just call me… Sarah. Yup, totally going on the tour.” I managed to not physically face-palm from my awkwardness, but I was thinking it. Hey, don’t judge me! I ramble when I get nervous, and so far the only face-to-face social interaction that I’ve had in my life with kids my own age has been limited to people who pointedly ignore me or beat the crap out of me on a near-daily basis. Socializing is hard. Luckily for me, that was when Larry the guide, another person who I had only ever seen in passing, decided to get the frozen river expedition on the way. Between listening to Larry, polar bear spotting, and Dani having enough to say for both of us, I was able to just nod and smile, for the most part, no actual socialization necessary. It was much better when I kept my big mouth shut anyway. I mean, I had three hotels to choose from when she asked where I was staying and I said the Tundra Inn, which just happened to be where she was staying. Apparently, Dani’s Mom had come to Churchill from Calgary for business and had brought her along to get the northern experience. Who the hell comes to Churchill of all places to make business deals? Anyway, they had arrived on that morning’s train and while her mom was busy with work and going to check out the museum, Dani had decided to take the tour so she wouldn’t be completely bored. It sounded like she was going to be alone most of the evening too since her mother would likely be working late on her property acquisition. I found myself liking Dani. She treated me as a girl from the start, she held up both our ends of the conversation, and she seemed totally okay with me being awkward and shy. I wasn’t sure about this girls’ night though, as much as I wanted the experience, I had to leave town when we got back from the tour and there was too much chance of her discovering what I really was. It was as we returned to town that I realized that going on the tour to avoid Jerry hadn’t been the brilliant idea that I had first thought. This was supported by the sound of the train whistle in the distance. Shit! I was going to have to hurry if I was going to get to the tracks soon enough to catch it. I had to try though, or I’d have to somehow keep my changes hidden until the next outgoing train on Saturday. I quickly told Dani that I would see her at the hotel and that I had forgotten something that I needed to do before the stores closed for the day. Then I took off for the railroad tracks as fast as my legs could carry me. I kinda felt bad about lying to her and abandoning her like that since she seemed nice, but I had to catch that train and I couldn’t risk anyone figuring out that I was a mutant until I was far away from Churchill and relatively safe. Had I not been in such a rush, I likely would have had the presence of mind to avoid the pub, where my Dad and his pals would be getting a post-work drink or three before heading home for the night. Had I been watching where I was going when I rounded that corner at full speed, I wouldn’t have run right into them. Does bad luck count as a superpower? If so, I was pretty sure that I’d found mine. “Nathan? I thought you were sick, boy,” Dad said, glaring at me as I tried to get up from where I’d fallen on my ass and was trying not to show my fear. “I’m… umm… feeling much better today. Like a new… man. I thought I’d go for a run since it’s… uhh… such a nice day out.” Stupid! Snow was coming down so heavily that I could barely see three meters in front of me, and the wind was howling like a banshee. Why can’t I keep my big mouth shut? “Don’t fucking sass me, you little shit!” Dad backhanded me, sending me back onto my ass and breaking the pair of cheap sunglasses that I was wearing. It was as I was trying to get up to run like hell that my father and his drinking buddies saw my eyes. “Fucking mutie freak! Just like your lying bitch of a mother!” I was stunned by the revelation that my mom was a mutant too, but not stunned enough to stop me from running for my life, or trying to. I was backing away from my father and his four work buddies when I was grabbed roughly from behind. “Going somewhere, freak?” Aww shit, it was Dad’s buddy, Agent Vern Anderson of the MCO. Nobody in town was sure what he had done to get posted out here in the middle of nowhere as the MCO’s lone agent in Churchill, but given the way that I had heard him and my dad talk about mutants, I was pretty sure that it was bad. “Oh, you know. I have a hot date; she’s probably getting worried though. I should get going. It was great seeing you all again, we should all do lunch…” I babbled. I really need to learn to shut up. That was when I felt something hard poking me in the back, good ole Vern shoved me through the door of the pub, and my dad and their other pals followed us inside. “I didn’t mean now. I really shouldn’t be in here; I’m not of legal drinking age.” I looked around for possible help and the man behind the bar looked like he was about to speak up about my ‘minor’ problem when good ole Vern decided to help things along, for him. He flashed his badge and called out, “MCO business, Steve. I need to interview this freak. You and the other staff go wait in the back until we’re done, for your own safety.” Steve didn’t look happy, but he complied and led the waitresses and kitchen staff into the back, assuring their safety. Who was going to assure mine? I was betting that it wouldn’t be Vern or my dad. Probably not their four buddies either, not that I knew any of them that well. I didn’t even remember their names, it was almost like they were some sort of passing background characters in the story of my life that the author didn't care enough about to flesh out, so I’ll just call them Grouchy, Dopey, Boozy, and Ugly. Rather than offering me a seat like a well-mannered interviewer, he had Grouchy and Ugly each grab one of my arms and tossed my new backpack to the floor while he kept his gun trained on me. I let out a nervous laugh and did what I always do when I’m nervous, I babbled my ass off. “Heh heh, soooo interview, huh? Interviews always make me nervous, how about you guys? Well, since nobody is asking me anything yet, I’ll get us started. My favorite color is wine, no not burgundy but that’s a common mistake. My favorite movie is…” My babbling was cut off by a solid punch to the gut from dear ole Dad as he growled, “Shut the fuck up.” “Does this mean I didn’t get the job?” I wheezed. Vern gave me a disgusted look and spat, “No mutie sympathizers around this time to keep me from doing what needs to be done. Here’s how this is going to play out, freak; you’re resisting arrest and you’re going to get shot and killed trying to escape. Any last words?” I was really going to need a plan if I was going to get out of this alive. Nothing was coming to me though and the only last words I came up with were, “Fuck you,” muttered under my breath. It seemed that Vern didn’t hear me though and came closer, waving his gun at me. “What was that, freak?” Wait, he was coming closer and hadn’t shot me yet? I couldn’t possibly be this lucky, right? I swung my left leg upward in a kick as hard, high, and fast as I could. I didn’t know that I could kick so high, or hard. A horrible crunching sound came from the vicinity of Vern’s hand as it flew upward and he screamed, the gun went off and sent a bullet into the ceiling, and then the weapon flew from his hand and across the room toward the booths in one of the corners. Then I brought my heel back down hard on Grouchy’s foot, causing another crunch and scream of pain. Now he had something to be grouchy about. Grouchy loosened his grip, but my dad was trying to hit me before I could worm myself free. I fell backward in a panic, trying to avoid the blow and not only did I succeed, but I ended up pulling Ugly down with me, right in time to take the punch meant for me. I extracted myself from his grip and dove over a table to put some distance between my attackers and me. Then I started throwing everything that I could get my hands on at them as I tried to put some distance between us; napkin dispensers, ketchup bottles, salt and pepper shakers, mugs, menus, and even chairs. I was actually surprised by the amount of damage that I was doing, I managed to stun Boozy with a pepper shaker, and a chair to Vern’s already injured arm caused him to keep a little more distance. He wasn’t keeping quiet though, as he was yelling at his pals, “Get that freak!” Dopey lunged over the table separating us and I ducked underneath, giving it a push from below and sending both Dopey and the table several feet away to crash into my dad. I probably should have thought that out better though because now there was nothing between the others and me. And even worse, they were still between me and the exit. Ugly and Boozy came after me and I dodged through the tables, tossing chairs and tables in their way as I looked for someplace to escape. I ran for the first door I saw but stopped short when I saw the little man on the door. “NOPE!” I was not going into the men’s room; I didn’t care how desperate I was. I took off toward the ladies’ room instead and only just moved out of the way in time to avoid a tackle from Ugly. Instead of bringing me down, he crashed face-first into the men’s room door. I guess that he was going to be uglier now. I ducked into the ladies’ room but that just left me more trapped. I had been hoping to escape from a window but there were none in there. “Let’s see, what do we have available?” I wondered for those brief seconds before Boozy came crashing through the door behind me. I didn’t see much besides the usual ladies’ room accouterments, so as Boozy came barreling toward me I hopped up onto the sink counter to avoid his charge, grabbed a can of air freshener, and let him have it full in the face when he whirled back around at me. Boozy screamed in pain and I hopped back down onto the floor, delivering a solid kick to the seat of his pants that had him grunting in pain and stumble-falling toward the door. At about the same time, Grouchy came limping through the door, only for Boozy to crash into him and knock both of them to the floor. I jumped over the pair and out the jammed-open door, intent on trying to get to the pub’s exit and freedom. Ugly was still on the floor and I thought that he might have been sleeping off his meeting with the men’s room door. That was good, it meant that there were only three people and a room that looked like it belonged in a disaster movie between me and sweet freedom. A quick glance showed Vern in the corner, probably searching for his gun, while my dad was guarding the door. Nobody was guarding that big window though. I briefly wondered where Dopey was, but I could taste freedom and I was going to get it even if I was going to be picking glass out of my clothes for the next month. I was about halfway across the room, dodging and jumping over obstacles when Dopey stepped out from behind a pillar. I barely had time to see the baseball bat on a collision course with the side of my head out of the corner of my eye. Perhaps Dopey had been misnamed. Damn that hurt. The blow sent me staggering, my head spinning as pain erupted from the blow. Another blow from the bat sent me to the floor and after that everything sort of got lost in a haze of agony as blows from the bat and several pairs of steel-toed boots rained down on me. They went for anywhere they could reach; my ribs, back, arms, and face. I tried to move my arms to cover my face but that was around the time I heard Vern’s fuzzy voice say, “Payback, Freak.” He stomped hard on my left hand leaving it a mass of agony as I could feel bones breaking. Then someone started kicking my face. I lost track of things again then, and I think that I might have briefly passed out from the pain. I was brought back from unconsciousness by a painful popping in my jaw that caused me to groan and I heard my dad say, “Fuck, it’s still alive after all that?” “Not for long,” Vern replied sounding far too happy to be able to correct the situation. I don’t know where I found the strength to move. I hurt all over, but I got shakily to my feet using my right arm since my left was pretty much useless. The fog of agony that had seemed to become my entire existence briefly parted to allow one beam of light through, a determination to get the fuck out of there and survive. As soon as I was on my feet, I bolted. Vern was pointing his gun at me but his aim was shaky and he was using the wrong hand from how I had seen him holding it before. I bulldozed my way through him and my dad, knocking them both aside and wincing from the pain that the collision caused me. Stumbling past them, I snatched my backpack with my good hand and ran for the window, jumping through the glass and out into the near-blizzard conditions outside. I didn’t care about the cold or the glass, I was still wearing my parka and at the moment any small discomfort that either might have caused me was nothing compared to the pain that I was already in. I was vaguely aware of the sound of gunshots over the howling of the wind and my left arm screamed in agony that was no longer just coming from my busted hand. I might have screamed, or whatever sound that my throbbing jaw might have been able to make at the time, but I kept running. I’m not sure how long I fled the scene of my intended murder through howling winds and blinding snow. I alternated between running and stumble-staggering when I needed to catch my breath. Deep breaths only seemed to further my discomfort during those times that I slowed and I was only dimly aware of leaving town and starting across the ice-covered river. Somehow, I managed to keep conscious and moving until I had reached the sparse beginnings of the forest on the other side of the river, finally collapsing under the cover of a thick pine tree. I wasn’t sure how I had managed it, but my backpack was still clutched tightly in my right hand. I was spent, and all thoughts of safety and what I had left behind faded as darkness finally claimed me. I awoke once, not really aware of anything other than the need to eat something and being unable to stop shivering from the cold. Only later would I vaguely recall opening my backpack and tearing into a block of cheese, a package of hot dogs, and a box of crackers. Then I huddled into a ball against the freezing cold before falling back to sleep. When I finally came fully awake, I was practically warm. The heavy snow had made a sort of snow shelter from the lowermost branches of the tree that I was leaning against, and it was keeping the cold outside and making for an almost comfortable sleeping arrangement. As reluctant as I was to move, I was hungry again and slowly scratching my way toward alertness this time. My eyes snapped open and I sat bolt upright as what had happened at the pub slammed into my stirring consciousness. In a panic, I thrust my head out from the low snow-covered boughs of the pine tree that I had collapsed beneath and into the bitter cold beyond, my eyes darting around to ensure that nobody had followed me before huddling back under the low branches. It had let in the cold outside, but I now knew that it was safe to continue freaking out, and I had plenty to freak out about. “Oh shit! Shit! Omigod, they tried to kill me! What am I gonna do?! I can’t go back there! If they see me, I’m dead! I can’t stay here either though! What if they have people searching for me?! And I don’t know how to survive out here, there are bears and it’s cold and scary! Wait! I know, I need to call Mom or Rika! Dad said that Mom is a mutant so maybe she can help me; I just need to…” After a while of those thoughts and others like them spinning in my brain, I managed to take a deep breath to calm myself and reached into the pocket of my parka to pull out my phone, or rather, what was left of it. The stupid, cheap little flip phone was in pieces, but that wasn’t too surprising with a bunch of guys with steel-toed boots laying the beat down on me as they had been. I was surprised that I was still alive after the beating they had given me. That was about when I realized that I was tightly gripping the remnants of my phone in my left hand. That hand had been broken, or at least very badly damaged in the fight, I was sure of it. I was sure that I’d been shot in that same arm too but it felt fine, and so did my ribs and my face. Reaching up to put my gloved hands to my face, it didn’t feel like anything was broken, but it didn’t feel normal either. My jaw felt like it extended a bit more than it should, and my nose felt weird but it was hard to be sure with my gloves on and the scarf half covering my face. I was half-ready to take the scarf off though since it had blood all over it and the coppery smell was really strong. Even my tongue felt strange as I rolled it in my mouth. My teeth were all there too when I was certain that a few had been knocked out by my dad and his pals. Quite a few of them felt longer and sharper than they should be though. What the hell was I turning into? And how long had I been unconscious anyway? I was hungrier than I had ever been in my life, but since that had been going on since I started changing, that wasn’t exactly an accurate way to measure time. Another peek outside of my shelter under the tree showed that the sun was close to setting so I was left wondering if I had been unconscious for almost an entire day, or even longer. “Okay, just calm down and think, Felicia. This is weird, but I’m still alive. No phone, I can’t go back there, and I’m out in the woods in the arctic in winter. I just need to come up with a plan. Right, because planning worked so well when I was trying to get out of town.” My stomach growled suddenly in protest. Not that it disagreed that my plan had sucked, but because it was very empty. Good point, stomach, I couldn’t think properly when I was that hungry. I knew that I should have been rationing my food, but at the moment I was starving and I knew that if I was going to make any distance on foot through all of that snow, then I would need to have energy. I decided as I ate that I needed to move westward. My goal was to make my way to Vancouver to find my mom somehow. It wasn’t much of a plan but it was all that I had at the moment. Maybe if I could get to a highway, I could hitch a ride, or hide in the back of a truck or something. If I ran across a town or some other sign of civilization then maybe I could find a phone to call her or Rika. For the next three days, I trudged westward through the snow, keeping moving as much as possible to keep warm in the sub-arctic conditions. It didn’t seem to help. I was constantly freezing, my teeth chattering and my body shaking. Even the snow shelters that I made at night weren’t helping, probably because they were poorly made due to my shaking hands. I’d run out of food except for the instant oatmeal and hot chocolate mix. Both of those sounded so damn good as I made my snow shelter for the night, they would have warmed me right up. I had no way to make a fire and boil water though; I had planned to catch a train, not wander through the woods slowly freezing to death. I had to drink the last of my water too, so now I would have to eat snow if I wanted to stay hydrated. At least today, I wasn’t quite as cold as I had been. My latest change seemed to help with that a lot. Those fine hairs that I had noticed on my body had developed into a thick fur coat that seemed to cover me from head to toe and fingertips. I had fallen asleep last night shaking so badly that I thought I was going to die of hypothermia but I was almost warm when I woke up this morning. I discovered my furry state after relieving myself. Usually, I hated handling that thing between my legs in any way, but I had discovered that it was far better than squatting in the freezing cold. While the near-warmth was welcome, the constant static that the fur seemed to produce was not and it seemed to continue to build up all day. I also feared what I had to look like now, but it wasn’t like there were any reflective surfaces nearby to face that fear. Besides, I had more important matters to think about right now. I was starving and I had a way to solve that problem, at least for the moment. If I could just manage to start a fire, I would be completely warm for the first time in days too. It was late in the evening and I had just stumbled across a small single-room hunting cabin of some sort that didn’t look like it had been used in years from all of the dust inside. The two window frames had been boarded up, probably to keep out the snow and cold. Fortunately, the roof was still intact and there was some dry wood by the fireplace. A search had yielded little else except for some blackened and battered camping pots and two sets of plastic plates and cutlery in a cupboard, a few candlesticks, and a nearly empty package of matches. After filling the pots with the cleanest-looking snow that I could find to melt for water, I piled some dry bark from the firewood in the fireplace and placed some of the wood over top. “Stupid matches,” I cursed as yet another one died out before I could put its small flame to the bark. There was only one match left and I crouched half inside the fireplace as I struck it and slowly moved it toward the bark, only for it to extinguish in a puff of smoke just as it reached the bark. “Come on!” I snapped angrily. I just wanted a stupid fire. Was that so much to ask? People had been making fire since we lived in caves. Anger turned to shock as electricity arced from my now furry fingertips, setting the bone-dry bark aflame and causing me to jump back in surprise. “What the…” I just sat there for a moment feeling very confused. Had I just discovered my power? I decided to worry about it later, I wanted to get warm and fill my belly. Before long, the snow melted to water and then boiled. The small cabin was starting to warm up too. Soon, it was warm enough that I could remove my outerwear for the first time in days. My parka was stained with blood and had a bullet hole going through the back and front of the left sleeve. My scarf was caked with long dried blood as well; no wonder I had smelled it so strongly. At least my gloves and toque still seemed to be in decent shape, for the moment. The rest would keep me warmer than I would be without, at least until I could find civilization. Being down to only a grey polar fleece sweater and thermal pants, I took a good look at my fuzzy red hands and sighed. The fur was predominantly reddish-gold but there were some black spots coming in at the back of my hands and wrists as well. At least it was helping to keep me warm. I tried to put my changes out of my mind and by the time I had filled up on oatmeal and hot cocoa, I felt better than I had since manifesting, even if I was a little bit afraid of what I might be turning into. When I was finished eating, my long day caught up with me and I curled up in front of the fire to sleep. Hunger woke me. It was cold and my shelter was darkened into shades of grey. The wind howled outside, making me shiver. I carefully slipped outside to breathe in deeply and scent the air around me. The wind teased me with a delicious smell. Eagerly, I stalked slowly toward it. I kept myself low to the ground as I made my way through the deep snow. A flash of movement caught my eye. It was barely noticeable against the white of the snow. Then I spotted my prey. The white hare stopped and looked around. I kept perfectly still, not wanting to give my presence away. Once it began to move again I made my move. I quickly closed the distance between us and pounced, snapping my prey up with my jaws. My reward was the coppery taste of my prey’s blood spraying in my mouth. The hare struggled, clinging to life. I clamped my jaws more tightly and gave it a good shake to snap its neck. Satisfied with my catch, I looked around nervously and sniffed the air. Predators could come soon, wanting my food. Or wanting me for food. Cautiously, I headed back to my shelter. I awoke hungry, as usual. The cabin was cold; the fire in the fireplace long since reduced to ashes and the morning light was peeking in through the open door. Wait. I was sure that the door had been closed when I went to sleep the night before. My stomach growled, reminding me of my hunger. I smelled something delicious, but my eyes darted around the cabin to make sure that I was alone. It was only as I breathed a sigh of relief that no wild animals had wandered into the open door that I noticed the bloody corpse on the floor beside me. The sigh quickly reversed into a gasp as I fully awoke and hazy memories began to surface, memories of hunting, killing, and then eating said corpse raw. There was little left of it now but bloodied white fur and its head, its expression preserved in a look of fear and horror. I wanted to throw up. I could still taste the slightly coppery remnants of its blood on my lips. “No. Nonononono! What have I done? How could I… eat something… so… cute?” The words started to come out in gasping sobs as I hugged my knees and rocked back and forth, trying very hard to not look at the remains of the arctic hare and its accusing eyes. It was at that moment that I decided that I would never eat anything small and cute again. Bunnies are friends, not food. Still, I knew that I would need to hunt as long as I was traveling the wilderness, especially with how hungry I seemed to be all of the time. But I vowed not to eat anything cute again, I would try to hunt caribou or moose, they weren’t cute at all and would probably provide a better meal. Still, I wasn’t eager to go out and start killing anything, even if it was for survival. I would think about it later. For now, I had oatmeal to fill my belly. Not that it would last long. I had used up half of the instant oatmeal packets I had last night before my stomach stopped protesting its emptiness and I was pretty sure that I was hungry enough to finish off the rest of them now. I melted more pots of snow, and the smallest of the pots finished melting and boiling first. I used the iron fire poker that I found by the fireplace to remove it from the heat and used it to make the last of the oatmeal for my breakfast. While that was cooling, the middle one finished boiling and I made some hot chocolate. Once it cooled enough that I could handle it with my winter gloves without damaging them I filled the thermos that had come with my backpack and drank the rest to wash down my breakfast. Drinking was weird though since I was pretty sure that my mouth and nose had turned into some form of muzzle. At least with water bottles, I could just tilt back my head and pour the liquid into my mouth, but drinking from the pot had been awkward and I had a feeling that drinking from the thermos or a cup would be just as weird. This was going to take some getting used to, and I was afraid that having a muzzle was just the beginning. I seemed to be changing more every time that I fell asleep, this morning I had claws where my fingernails had once been. I was starting to notice a pattern of sorts too. I had healed from my beating very fast. I wasn’t sure how long I had slept after it, but by the time I had woken up, I had been completely healed. And where I had healed, that was where the changes had first appeared. I wasn’t sure if near-hypothermia counted as an injury or not, but the fur had grown out around that time too. Was I adapting to my environment somehow? I remained lost in thought until the largest pot had cooled and then I used that to fill the two one-liter water bottles. I needed to keep moving west and look for somewhere I could contact my mom or Rika. That and I couldn’t bear to stay in this one-room cabin with the bunny corpse. I didn’t want to touch it to move it either though. That would mean it was real, and so was what had happened last night. I tried not to think about it as I packed the camping pots, plates, cutlery, and candlesticks in my backpack. I probably wouldn’t need the latter since I could see in the dark but I figured that it was better to have them in case I needed them for some reason. I also brought along the fire poker for the same reason; it could serve as a weapon if I really needed one. Then I got dressed back in my outer layers, took one last solemn look at the small cabin and the dead bunny on the floor, and stepped back out into the cold. I was sooo hungry. I had been walking through the deep snow along the timberline all day and had already finished my thermos of hot chocolate. The forest was sporadic and patchy here, often giving way to hilly tundra, but it seemed the easiest path for now and I was hoping to see something that I could eat. So far I hadn’t seen anything but arctic hares and ermines, and they were too cute. I couldn’t make myself hunt them, no matter how hungry I was. It seemed that my nose was very good now; I could smell all kinds of things around me even when I didn’t have the open tundra to see anything from a distance. Occasionally, I would lower my scarf for a few minutes to try to get used to the scents around me. All that I could smell with the scarf on was blood and it was making breathing a bit difficult as well. It seemed to be much easier to smell things around me if I took a deep breath in for some reason. It was near sunset by the time the wind that was blowing in my face brought an unfamiliar scent my way as I passed through another sparse patch of forest. I crept forward and peered from between a pair of pine trees opening up to another large and barren field of snow to reveal a caribou not even twenty feet away. It had huge antlers and was facing toward the setting sun and away from me as it dug at the snow with its forehooves, probably digging for vegetation to eat. I couldn’t believe my luck. That would make for several meals if I could manage to take it down. As cold as it was, it would probably keep pretty well for a while too. It also wasn’t cute and wasn’t even facing me so I needed to take this chance. Taking a deep and slow breath to calm myself, the bitter air feeling like it was trying to freeze my lungs. The snow wasn’t too deep here, maybe three or four inches, so I thought that I could close the distance quickly. I was also downwind so the biggest risk would be it hearing me before I got close. I crouched for a moment to place my backpack gingerly by the trunk of one of the pine trees and then I took off running toward the large animal. By the time its ears perked up at my approach, I was already three-quarters of the way there and I leaped to close the rest of that distance, managing to land on the caribou’s back. Immediately it tried bucking me off and, when I dug in my claws to hold on tighter, it took off running. I might have panicked and screamed a little when I saw that its path was taking us directly to a steep drop. Electricity arced along my body and between my hands, and the smell of burnt ozone and flesh hit me before my ride stopped, quite literally dead, to slide to a stop short of the embankment. I wasn’t quite as lucky. The momentum threw me forward and over both its head and the ledge. *Phoomp* *Phoomp* *Phoomp* My fall was thankfully brief before I hit the snow on the slope just beneath the embankment, bounced three times, and then rolled down the hill, gathering snow as I went to become one giant snowball. My downward momentum was halted as I slammed into a tree. Okay, that hurt a little. I was sore and covered in snow but, miraculously, nothing seemed to be broken. I shook myself free of the snowball detritus. “I’m okay!” *PLOP* And that was when the snow fell from the upper branches of the tree to cover me again. With a groan, I clambered back out of the pile of snow and made my way back up the slope. At least the furrow of snow made by my descent, and the three Felicia-shaped snow angels, made it easy to find my way back up to my starting point and the small cliff that I had been hurled from. Okay, maybe I was exaggerating, the drop was like ten feet and the snow had padded my landing, several times. Still, it was a lot harder getting up the embankment than it had been getting down. I had to climb and stuff. Being outdoors in the winter sucks. Still, I managed to make it up. Score one for me; I was a lot stronger and more agile than I thought. When I reached the caribou’s corpse, I just stared at it for a moment, not certain what I should do. I felt bad for killing it, but I needed to eat and there was a distinct lack of grocery stores or fast food joints out here. Somebody should really get to work on that. I had no idea how to butcher and skin an animal either, even if I did have proper knives or other tools. Surprisingly, that wasn’t covered in any of my high school classes. I had no wood to make a fire either. Let it never be said that television taught me nothing. Now, sure, I bet those reality TV survival shows would be awesome for this kind of thing, but I preferred to watch anime so I was working off half-forgotten episodes of Wild Kingdom. So, I made myself a nice seam in the carcass with my claws and then dug in lion-style. If I hadn’t been so hungry I probably couldn’t have done it. I would have wussed out at the thought of eating it raw or at the smell. The corpse was still warm, but the smell and taste didn’t bother me near as much as I would have feared, in fact, it was much tastier than I had expected. What drove me though, other than hunger, was that I needed to survive. I needed to survive and find a way to contact my mom. I was hungry and uncomfortable. It seemed like I was always hungry though. That caribou had only lasted me two days before there was nothing left worth eating and since it hadn’t exactly been something I could eat on the go, while my hunger had been sated, my travel progress wasn’t much to write home about. Not that I would have written home, my father was an asshole and the only thing that I missed about that place was my anime and internet access. I finished the last of the caribou this morning for breakfast before setting out and now it was late in the afternoon. I was still intent on moving west but had taken a bit of a southward turn for today if the path of the sun in the sky was telling me the truth. I hoped that I would have better luck keeping myself fed in the thicker forest and off the tundra. I had been lucky with the caribou, but there was too much open space out on the tundra and most animals could see or smell me coming from a good distance away. So far, my luck hadn’t been any better in the forest, such as it was. Calling it a forest was probably being overly generous though. This far north with the tundra so close, it was more of a loose collection of trees that were hanging out near each other because they feared being alone but didn’t really like one another. It was kinda like why I went to school. I hated the place and the people there as much as they hated me but at least I wasn’t alone. Well, I was alone back then, but at least I was alone in a crowd. Out here in the middle of snow-where, my only potential socialization would be with the trees or the animals. It had only been a few days though and I wasn’t that far gone yet. Besides, I was sure I would find people and a way to contact my mom any day now. I was so lost in that spiral of depressing thoughts, and the task of trying to stay positive as I slogged through what passed for a forest, that I almost missed the sound of running water. It sounded so nice, and I was so thirsty since I had drunk the last of the water in my bottles hours ago. I would need to try to find a place where I could build a fire tonight so I could melt some snow for water unless I was lucky enough to find a river or… stream? I stopped to stare, wide-eyed. Not thirty feet away, a stream wound its way through the snow-covered forest. Well, either a very large stream or a small river, and the shores were partially covered in ice, but it was water. Moreover, if Wild Kingdom was at all accurate, where there was water you could usually find animals just as thirsty as I was. I didn’t see or smell any animals yet, but it was only a matter of time. I quickly made my way toward the bank, extracted my camping pots, and started filling them with water that I could boil. As thirsty as I was, I heard that it was a bad idea to drink water in the wild without boiling it first. It was as I filled my pots that I noticed that the current wasn’t that fast and there were fish, even some fairly close to the frozen shoreline! Mmmm… fishies sounded so good. Well, anything sounded good since I was absolutely starving. I just needed to figure out how to catch one. Maybe, if I was quick enough, I could just snatch one out of the water. It couldn’t be that hard, right? This was a great idea. Nothing could possibly go wrong. It would be easy pickings, but I would need a fire to cook them and boil the water. With that in mind, I decided to wait and see if I could find a place to make camp for the night first and get a fire going. It was while I was looking for firewood, planning on setting up a snow shelter near the water, that I found a much better option. There was a small cave not very far upstream. It wasn’t very deep, little more than a large hole in the side of a rocky hill, but it was large enough to fit two people and a campfire comfortably. I hurried to move my pots of water, backpack, and as much firewood as I could manage into the unoccupied cave. It didn’t take me long to get a fire going. Those sparks that seemed to come from my new permanent fur coat, seemed to build up whenever I was active, and I was able to direct some at some small branches to start a flame. I had to do some careful blowing and adding of other small branches to make sure it didn’t die before getting big enough to not die out too quickly though. Once the fire was going well, I added some wood to keep it going for a while and warm the cave a bit while I went to go get dinner. I was almost happy as I went back to the sluggishly flowing water and waited for a good candidate for my supper. It looked like my luck might be changing for the better and I was looking at an easy meal. That thought was floating happily in my mind as I took off my gloves and watched the shadows in the water. I needed to be quick since it looked like the sun would be starting to set soon. I caught sight of a large shadow and my hands darted out to make a grab for it. Damn that water was cold. I managed to snatch the fish but it slipped from my grip, so I had to grab for it again. It slipped through my numbing fingers three more times before I managed to get a strong enough grip on it and lift it out of the water toward me. It was a northern pike, at least four feet long. Oh yeah, that was going to make an awesome dinner. I was drooling just thinking about it as I attempted to wrangle the fish out of the water and was promptly fish-slapped. *Thwap* *thwap* *thwap* I yelped and dropped it back in the water and, realizing my mistake; I made another grab for it. *Chomp!* The damn thing bit my hand. “Owww! You little bastard! I’m gonna eat you for that!” Well, I was going to eat it anyway, but now it would taste like vengeance. I pulled my hand away and then made a lunge for it, slipping on the ice and falling face-first in the freezing water. I opened my eyes and saw the pike, who I’m going to call Peter, looking right at me past the bubbles escaping my mouth. It looked so smug. Okay, now it was personal. I pulled my head back above the surface, shivering as I spat out a stream of water. The next several minutes consisted largely of me trying to catch the slimy little shit, while Peter Pike taunted me like a cartoon rabbit. He would slip through my fingers, slap me across the face when I did catch him, and even bit me on the butt. Finally, I jumped him, got a good grip, and wrestled him in the water near the shore. That was when my fur decided to discharge a good jolt of electricity. Peter Pike spasmed and went still in my arms and every fish nearby floated to the surface in the wake of my unwitting attack. Okay, so maybe I hadn’t meant to do that, but I still gloated over the corpse of my nemesis. “Ha! It’s super-effective! What a shocking defeat! Didn’t expect that, did you?!” Well, of course, he hadn’t. I hadn’t even expected it. “Not so tough now are you, Pete?! I got you, and your little friends too!” As satisfying as the thrill of victory was, my clothes were soaked and I was freezing. As quickly as I could, I put Peter and the other shocked fishies on the ice and then made several trips carrying them back to the cave. There were almost a dozen fish of various sizes and species, and I planned to cook them all, but I would be eating Peter first. First, I needed to get out of my soaked clothing though. Once I had done that and placed it all near the fire to dry, I sat by the fire myself to warm up and cook my dinner. Cooking the fish was not as easy as I had thought it would be, especially Pete. I had no pan, and no way to sharpen sticks to impale them on. In the end, I put the others outside in the snow to keep them fresh and ate Pete raw. It was viscerally satisfying after all the trouble that he had given me. I was able to boil some water though, enough to fill my water bottles and have some to drink with my meal. Once I was finished eating, I let out a satisfied belch as I looked at Peter’s remains. “Not so smug now, are you?” He had nothing to say on the matter. Checking my clothes and finding them still wet, I let out a sigh and sat back next to the fire to keep warm. Since I was butt naked and had nothing else to do, I also figured that this was probably a good time to get as good a look at myself as I could. I wanted to try to figure out where my mutation might be taking me. I couldn’t actually see my face since I had nothing reflective at the moment, and for the rest, I needed to go by what glances I could get and my sense of touch. The most obvious thing was, of course, the full-body fur coat. It seemed to be red-gold in color with black rosettes along my outer arms and legs. It was hard to tell for sure, but I thought that I was starting to grow breasts under the fur. I thought that the hateful thing between my legs might have been shrinking too, and not just from the cold. It could have been just my imagination, but the thought that whatever I was turning into might at least be female was a comforting one. I fell asleep waiting for my clothes to dry and had hazy memories of feeling cold when I finally awoke the next morning to finish eating Peter and start the day. The fire was long dead but the cold didn’t seem to bother me as much as the night before. In fact, my fur seemed to be longer and thicker than when I had looked myself over the night before. I was starting to get used to things changing overnight though, so I gave it no mind as I got dressed to gather my things and start traveling again. Near the Saskatchewan/Alberta border Late Spring, 2007 I lost track of the days somewhere after the first two weeks, but I was guessing that a few months had passed, and I continued to change each night as I slept. For one thing, I had started shedding what I assumed was a winter coat by the time the snow melted, and my fur seemed less thick and sleeker now that it was Spring. The electricity that I was generating seemed to be ever-present now as well, at least while I was awake and even the slightest bit active. It could have been the fur, but my limbs all looked a little thicker than they used to be as well, even my finger and toes, both of which were tipped with nasty claws. Those had made my gloves a shredded mess and my boots difficult to wear. My boots were all that I had left to wear though, except for scraps of my old clothes that I had turned into a makeshift bra and loincloth. There was some discomfort at the base of my spine as well, which was turning into a noticeable lump at my tailbone. Maybe I was turning into a catgirl of some sort because that would be awesome. Sure, I could do without the full-body fur coat, but being a catgirl would be like a dream come true. I was sure about the girl thing at least, especially since my voice had become lighter, more feminine, and airy, and I was definitely getting a more feminine body shape under the fur as well. I had been gaining a lot of weight, so much that none of my clothes fit properly anymore. Most of it had gone to my chest, butt, thighs, and hips, and I was thinking that if I was able to find clothes that fit they would likely be in the plus sizes, especially in my chest. I was very happy with that development though, and with the continued shrinking of what used to be my manhood. The latter was happening slower than I liked though. Well, things did seem to change faster to whatever I was turning into when I was healing from an injury in that location, so maybe if I cut it… That thought was interrupted as I first encountered a sign of humans. Unfortunately for me, that sign was the business end of a bullet. There I was, just walking along and minding my own business when I heard the sound of a shot being fired, and then *BAM* my right shoulder was in agony. I reacted instinctively. Hissing in pain, I clutched my shoulder with my left hand and kept low to the ground as I made my way into the thicker brush, ducking and weaving to keep from being an easy target for a second shot. As I feared, a second shot did come, the bullet burying itself in the tree that I had just swerved away from. Well, at least I knew what direction they were shooting from now. I had noticed that my ears were changing and slowly migrating up my head and it was doing weird things to my hearing. That wasn’t my biggest problem at the moment though because I was being shot at, and damn did my shoulder hurt. Why couldn’t I heal fast when I was awake? Because that would have been super useful at the moment. I dashed through the brush as quickly as I could but didn’t get far when I was forced to stop as I reached a cliff. Sixty feet below me, a river ran through the ravine in a torrent of whitewater. Indecisive, I stood there frozen until I heard voices. “…don’t know what it was, but I’m sure I hit it. It can’t have gone far.” “Wait, what’s a backpack doing here? You don’t think that was a person do you?” As I heard that, I looked down at my right hand, hanging useless and empty. I had been carrying my backpack in it since the straps had broken about a week ago. “It’s not hunting season, if someone finds out we’re doing this we could be arrested. Fuck! If you shot someone, we could be charged with murder too!” “Not if they don’t find the body,” the first voice said grimly, sending a chill down my spine. That was when they stepped through the brush and we locked eyes. They were dressed in hunting clothes and each held a rifle as they gaped at me. “Some sort of mutie?” the nervous one asked, almost hiding behind his friend. “Probably. Which means it won’t be missed. Hell, I know some people who might reward us for killing it,” he said as he raised his rifle. There was a look in his eyes that I didn’t like at all, one that I had seen in my father’s eyes when he and his friends had tried to kill me. He was going to pull the trigger, and he felt perfectly justified in doing it. I didn’t give him the chance. I turned and dove into the water below before he could finish aiming. All too soon, I hit the water, sending searing pain through my already injured shoulder as I was swept up in the freezing water’s current and carried away from my attackers. Pain that eclipsed even that in my shoulder had me screaming as I slammed hip-first into a large rock, then careened off to crash into a log. I managed to grab hold of the log and clutched it tightly, shaking from the cold and pain. I’m not sure how long I desperately clung to that log in pain and sputtering for air, or how far downriver I traveled, but the log eventually got caught on some rocks near the shore. Everything was numb from the cold water by that point, and I barely managed to crawl onto the shore before collapsing and passing out. I was dimly aware of waking up healed and hungry, but I was so emotionally tired from my ordeal that instinct seemed to take over. When I awoke the next morning, it was in a field near the river, beside the partially eaten corpse of a moose. At least it wasn’t something cute. I still had nightmares about the bunny. I was still trying to shake off sleep when I smelled something unfamiliar. My hearing was still wacky, so I couldn’t be certain, but it sounded like something was approaching too since I could hear movement and breathing that wasn’t my own. I tried to look toward where I thought the sounds and the scent were coming from and I saw it. It had an almost bear-like appearance and was about the size of a medium-sized dog. Okay, I was now fully awake. It was a wolverine, probably trying to scavenge my kill. I didn’t know much about them except that they get nasty if something gets between them and their intended meal and they seem to have no problems throwing down against larger animals My fur stood on end and instinct seemed to kick in as I rose to my hands and knees to hiss a warning. That wasn’t a good idea apparently, because the damn thing growled in reply and came at me. I barely dove to the side fast enough to avoid an attempt to tear out my throat. It was quick, but so was I. Putting some space between us, I watched it carefully and we circled each other, each looking for an opening. A hiss of pain escaped me as I moved too slowly, it managed to rake its claws across my thigh, and its lunge knocked me over as I tried to scramble away. Its claws caught me again on the side as I quickly rolled away. Those claws really hurt, and it had cut pretty deep too. I didn’t have time to worry about the blood that I was getting all over the place and matting my fur though since my opponent lunged again with its teeth bared. I jumped, and I think I surprised both of us with how much air I got as I leaped over it and tried to pivot on my foot to turn and jump on its back. I succeeded in the movement, but screamed out as a sickening sound between a pop and a crack came from my left ankle as I turned, followed by the red haze of agony as I clung to the wolverine’s back and dug in with my claws to hold on tight. If I let go now, it was going to kill me and I preferred the thought of it being dead instead. I tied to shock it but I had only just woken up when this whole this started and hadn’t really built up enough electricity yet to do more than piss it off. So, I pulled one out of its book and went for the throat. Having a jaw and mouth configuration more similar to a cat than a human, not to mention some very sharp teeth, helped me to clamp down. The metallic tang of hot blood spurted into my mouth as I hung on for dear life with both teeth and claws. Once its struggles began to weaken, I freed up a hand and dragged my claws deeply across the front of its throat to finish the job. I only let go completely once I was certain that it had stopped breathing. I rolled off my opponent, spitting out blood and fur. “Phttpht! How do you like that? Now I’m the best there is at what I do.” Gloating aside, I was in rough shape. Those claws had gone deep and I had to tear strips off what little remained of my improvised loincloth to roughly bandage them. With that done, I tried to pull off my left boot and examine my ankle. Just taking the boot off was torture, and I was nearly blinded with pain when I finally removed it and my sock. It was already purple and extremely swollen, and there was no way that I would be moving on that anytime soon. I was also starving since I hadn’t had breakfast yet. The moose corpse was a good twenty feet away and I was too tired and sore from the fight to bother going even that far, even if my ankle wasn’t hurt. I had something else to eat much closer though. Trying to move my leg as little as possible, I opened up the wolverine with my claws, ate my fill, and then promptly passed out. When I next awoke, I was hungry again but at least I wasn’t in pain anymore. The cuts from the wolverine’s claws seemed to have healed up completely and so had my foot, sort of. “Well, that’s going to be a problem,” I muttered as I stared at it. My left foot was now digitigrade like a cat’s, the problem was that my right foot wasn’t, and that would make walking really awkward. I knew what I had to do, but it still took me most of the morning, and a full stomach, to pysch myself up to do it as I hobbled along, awkwardly dragging what was left of the moose corpse. Finally, I found what I was looking for. It looked like a gopher hole, and once I dropped the moose within reach I sat down to pull off the boot and sock that remained on my right foot. “Okay, Felicia, you can do this. Just do it quick, and it’ll be over before you know it. Then you can take a little catnap and heal up,” I told myself as I nervously sat there trembling and looking at the hole. Still, it took several minutes before I was able to stand up and tentatively place my right foot in the small hole. “No, this is stupid, there has to be a better way, right? I mean, even I think this is a bad idea.” I knew that there wasn’t though and that the longer I waited the more chance there was that something else bad could happen. This was going to hurt, and this time I wouldn’t have any handy adrenaline running through me to dull the pain. Trembling and taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and gave my foot a sharp twist. I barely heard the break as searing pain tore through my right foot, a scream clawed its way out of my throat, and I fainted. Somewhere in northern Alberta Mid to late Summer, 2007 I had the bunny in sight and was careful to ground and bleed off any electricity that I managed to build up as I gave chase. It took a lot of concentration, meaning that I wasn’t paying enough attention to my surroundings as I probably should have been, but it would be worth it. With a flying leap, I caught the grey-furred cutie in my hands. I had to be careful to keep bleeding off the electricity, and not to accidentally scratch her with my claws. As I got into a sitting position, I smiled at her and offered, “Good morning, Hana. How are you this morning? A little cold?” She was shaking in my hands and looking at me wide-eyed, but I didn’t blame her since Natsumi, Yume, and Ayame, had all reacted similarly when we first met, and we had become great friends. Mio, an adorable squirrel, had peed in my hands when we met though, which I thought was kinda rude. I blame my powers; heck, I was kinda scared of all of that electricity too sometimes. Which was why I was being very careful not to move too quickly and to ground any electricity that I did generate. I wouldn’t want to shock my new friend, she could get hurt. My electric powers seemed to become harder to control and more powerful, the more that I changed and it came with both positives and negatives. For the positive, I could use my powers to take down my prey from ten feet away by shooting electricity at them, which made hunting even easier. On the downside, it made making new friends, like Hana, very difficult. I had changed a lot since manifesting and I was pretty sure now that I was right about the whole catgirl thing. It was awesome; I even had a tail or at least the start of one. It was only about three or four inches long so far, but it was a start. Pads had grown on my fingertips, palms, toes, and the balls of my feet, and I thought that my ears had nearly finished their northern migration as well since they were near the top of my head now and felt a lot bigger and more cat-like. Sure, I had more fur and a few more pounds than I would have liked, but I could live with that. Living alone was, surprisingly, more of an issue. I had seen a few towns from a distance during my travels, but my last encounters with people hadn’t exactly made me willing to trust anybody yet, except maybe my mom and Rika, and certainly not groups of people. If I had found a lone cabin or something, I might have approached, but I was wary about getting too close to people until I was sure it would be safe. An awkward silence seemed to hang over us as Hana trembled and we just stared at one another for several minutes. “Sorry, Hana, I’m not very good at this whole socializing thing yet. I don’t really have much experience with it, y’know? Most of the people I interacted with either ignored me completely or tried to beat me up… or kill me.” Hana’s ears twitched sagely and I nodded as I gave her another weak smile, careful not to show too much of my teeth. “That’s right; you and the others are a big help, so thanks for that. I’m kinda worried that Mom won’t like me, and that I won’t fit in well when I find her and start my new life. You’re all I have, well, that and what I’ve seen in anime. So, that’s why I’m making friends with all of you, so I can practice until I find her. If I’m nice enough, and a good enough friend, nobody will mind the fur and electricity, right?” My bunny pal’s nose wrinkled in a way that I just knew meant, “You’ve got this, Felicia.” I sighed, but after a moment I nodded in agreement. “Thanks, Hana, you’re right. I can totally do this. Thanks so much for the talk and your support, you’re a good friend. I should go and hunt some dinner though, so I’ll see you later.” I placed her gently back on the ground and she quickly hopped away to do whatever stuff bunnies do in the woods. She could really move. Realistically, I knew that she couldn’t talk back to me and was probably just scared of me, but I needed someone to ease the loneliness. I didn’t have a volleyball around, but the forests were just full of cute critters to talk to. If they started actually talking back, then I’d have a problem… maybe. Could be a mutant thing too, so the odds were probably fifty-fifty, leaning toward it being me mentally unraveling. I’d take those odds. For now, it eased the loneliness and helped me to practice talking to people. Somewhere in Northwestern Alberta I yawned and stretched as I woke up from a relaxing nap. The sun had made a nice warm spot where it peeked through the thinning foliage of the trees, but it had moved on since I started my afternoon nap, full from the last remnants of a deer I had caught a few days ago and some sparse nuts and berries that I had managed to gather. The days were beginning to get colder again, evidenced by my winter coat starting to grow in again, but it had been a nice afternoon to relax and take a break from travel. Each day brought me closer to mountains that I could only assume were the Rockies. They had started off as just bumps in the horizon, but now they loomed close enough that I wasn’t sure whether the colder days were from the mountain range or the time of year. Those mountains were impressive though, and a notable milestone in my journey to Vancouver to find my mother. Since I was planning on moving on and making some distance toward those mountains now that I was rested, I decided to look for Shizuku to say goodbye. She was my bunny friend in the area and she actually let me talk instead of just chittering away like some squirrels and chipmunks who I won’t mention. Sure, I liked it sometimes when someone held up both sides of the conversation, but geeze, even I’d like to get in a word or two once in a while. How was I supposed to socialize if they never shut up? And don’t get me started on raccoons. Not only are they a bunch of neat freaks, but they can’t be trusted. It’s the masks, they think they can get away with anything. They lie, they steal, and they’re a bunch of dirty shameless gossips. You tell them one thing in strict confidence and before you know it, the whole forest knows. I found Shizuku’s scent and followed it cautiously. I was closing in on her when another scent in the same area hit me like a slap in the face. My heartbeat sped up instantly, a whirlwind of anxiety welled up in my chest, and I started to run forward. “Shizuku!” I wasn’t in time. Or rather, I was just in time to see the cougar pounce and pin the cute little brown bunny with its forepaws. “NO! Bad kitty! You let Shizuku go, this instant!” The cougar didn’t listen, instead, it snatched her up in its jaws as she struggled, and with a sickening crunch that I could hear from twenty feet away, Shizuku went limp in its mouth. I didn’t stop running as the cougar turned and made off with my friend. I sped up, and as soon as I was close enough, I threw a bolt of electricity at the predator. Then, while it was stunned, I threw myself on top of it and started tearing into it with tooth and claw. I didn’t even give it a chance to fight back, I just tore into it wildly until it had stopped breathing. I knew what I would find when I pried Shizuku from the cougar’s maw, but I still had to try. She was bloody and deathly still though, not breathing or reacting to my touch. Even now, her body was starting to go cold and I collapsed to the ground, cradling her in my arms. For a time, the only sound was that of my sniffling sobs as my heart and chest burned with loss. It had taken most of the evening and it was dark now, but the preparations were complete. I had taken Shizuku’s body to a nearby lake where I had been coming to drink water and carefully cleaned the dried blood from her fur. The hardest part had been finding branches the right size and weaving grass together to make a rough little raft big enough to carry her body. It was complete now though and loaded with a rough nest of dry kindling and grasses that I thought should catch a flame fairly easily. With her vessel complete, I placed Shizuku’s body atop the pyre and pushed it out into the lake with shaking hands and a heavy heart. It took me several tries to speak. I didn’t really know what to say and the words seemed to lodge themselves in the painful tightness in my chest. Tears rolled down my cheeks and I had trouble keeping my voice steady when I could finally make the words come. “I… I didn’t know you for long, but you… were a noble bunny and a good… friend. Let nobody say… that a bunny cannot be a warrior. You had a warrior’s heart and fought even as your life… was viciously torn away. You earned your rest. Sleep well… in the halls of… Valhalla.” I sniffled out the last and had to run an arm across my eyes, wetting my fur with tears. The pyre was far enough away from the shore now so I sent a bolt of electricity crackling toward it. My breath caught in my too-tight throat as I watched with teary eyes and waited for the pyre to catch. I hoped it would, Shizuku deserved a proper send-off. After a moment, the flame caught and I released the breath that I had been holding with a shudder as I fell to my knees. Then I sat there in the darkness, watched the pyre burn until it finally went out, and then cried myself to sleep. Somewhere in Western Alberta The morning of October 4th, 2007 Something smelled out of place in this vast mountainous wilderness and I was on my way to find the source of these strange and unfamiliar scents that the wind offered me. I strode majestically through the trees toward it, careful to keep my crown and cape in place and a firm grip on my scepter. I needed to keep up appearances for my subjects after all. I peeked out from behind a large spruce at the tree line into the small valley below. My eyes caught the sight of sparse trees, a small lake, and a simple cabin alongside some sort of large structure made mostly from corrugated metal with antennas, a satellite dish, and stuff. There was movement down there too, probably the source of the unfamiliar animal scents on the wind. I didn’t smell any humans yet, but with the harsh chemical smells that were being carried to me along with the strange animal scents, I was pretty sure that there was at least one person in the cabin or the larger structure. Was this an invasion? I needed to go down there and find out what they were doing in my domain. Besides, with all those antennas and stuff, maybe they had a phone that I could use. Now, what approach to use? Should I sneak in and try to get a look around? I considered the problem for what must have been a whole minute or two before deciding to wing it. I do my best work that way. Plans are for suckers, and people who aren’t wildly impulsive and easily distracted. I was neither of those. A sucker, or such a person, it’s all part of my charm. So I made my way down the slope and walked toward the cabin with my head held high as I took in my surroundings. The setting would have been idyllic if it weren’t for that eyesore of a building. There were some impressive oak and birch trees in patches around the valley and a blue-green mountain lake. It wasn’t a big lake and my sharp eyes could spot ominous bubbles coming from a shadowy spot near the center. It gave the place a certain je ne sais quoi. Something about those bubbles… Ooh look, there was a sign! It was roughly made of wood and had the word ‘Kevin’ etched into it. “Kevin is an odd name for a lake,” I thought to myself. Ah well, the naming conventions of whoever lived here weren’t my concern. I didn’t plan on going swimming anyway, it was too cold. I know I have fur, but it takes forever to dry and all that wetness doesn’t help with warmth in a cool climate like this. I shrugged it off and walked away from Lake Kevin and toward the cabin. That was when I got a good whiff of something that smelled almost like coyotes, and maybe a wolf, coming from nearby. I heard the pack approaching me before I saw them, a godawful high-pitched yipping that was like nails on a chalkboard, and had my ears folding back as I winced. All too soon, I met the owners of those onerous voices. They had almost human torsos, arms, and hands under the fur and stood upright, almost like a dog version of me. They were like some weird fusion of man and coyote and they approached, sniffing me carefully. “I am Felicia, Queen of the Woodlands! Bow before your Queen!” I exclaimed, trying to look majestic as I adjusted my royal cape and crown with the hand not holding my scepter, and prepared to throw some electricity just in case. The woman at the computer watched the monitor in confused fascination. “What manner of creature is that?” The creature appeared to be female and humanoid with distinctive feline features, from what she could see of it from beneath the mangled cougar skin that it wore over its shoulders and the entangled deer antlers atop its head. It clutched a gnarled stick in one hand and didn’t look afraid as her adlets approached it. Then it spoke. Too bad the creature was nuts, it would make a fine specimen and had a strangeness that she could appreciate. She already had her adlets and three other varieties of cryptids created. She just needed to mass-produce them and soon her plans would come to fruition. There was still one thing that she needed though, and that creature just might be able to provide it. Her cryptids could follow orders, but thinking creatively was thus far beyond them. Perhaps she could get some samples from the creature and create a more mentally stable version. Her army of cryptids would need commanders after all, and the creature did seem intelligent despite its madness. Yes, soon her army would be complete and this creature would help with that whether it wanted to or not. And then she, Captain Cryptid, would rule the entirety of Jasper National Park! She activated the adlets’ neural transceivers and thought, “Kill it, but leave the body intact. I want to study it and collect samples.” Then she smiled at the thought as she leaned back in her chair and watched the monitor as her prize creations followed her command. “Hmmm, it looks tough. Maybe I should send in Fenris as well, just in case,” she murmured as she reached for a bowl of popcorn. She had been about to stream something but maybe this would be entertaining. “Eep!” I squeaked out in a very un-catgirl way as the dogmen jumped me. How dare they attack their magnanimous feline ruler?! Crap, I totally should have said that, it would have sounded a lot better than ‘eep’ but I was kinda taken by surprise. They were fast, almost as fast as me, and I had really been hoping that they would see reason and listen to their Queen. So I wasn’t really ready when the whole pack jumped me, tearing at me with tooth and claw. I fought back in kind, hissing and snarling as I made my way out of the dogpile (dogman pile?), giving little shocks as needed to convince them to back off. I came out mostly unscathed, just a few cuts and bites here and there and they weren’t all that deep. My scepter and royal vestments weren’t quite so lucky. “Hmmph. Well, I didn't wanna be Queen anyway, it's way too much work. Besides, it was all Tomoko's idea. I don't know why I listened to her, everyone knows that squirrels are nuts," I grumbled as I rolled my eyes and took off running. Poor sweet Tomoko, she had issues. “Grrrr… yip yip yip!” Damn, those dogmen were determined. They were right on my tail, and given how short it still was, that was an uncomfortable thought. “Dogsdogsdogsdogsdogs! Oooh tree!” As soon as I saw the large oak by the shores of the majestic Lake Kevin, I made a beeline for it and jumped a good eight feet into the air to grab onto a branch and flip myself onto it. I should play in the NBA… if I could play sports, like, at all. Still, I was pretty agile for an extra-thicc catgirl. I could have just climbed up the trunk, but that would have been boring and I had a plan. Okay, not so much a plan as an impulsive burst of inspiration, but we’ve already established that that’s kinda my thing. Anyway, as I was flipping myself onto that branch and out of their reach, they didn’t slow down quite fast enough to avoid splashing into Lake Kevin. The water wasn’t very deep, but they were wet and it was time to deliver the coup de grâce. I was grinning madly as I jumped from the tree and hurled every bit of electricity that I had at them as I yelled, “Pika!” A moment later, the smell of badly scorched flesh and dog hair had me wrinkling my nose. I was pretty pleased with myself as I turned around and back toward the cabin. “Heh, dogs are so stupi…” That was when I walked into a very fluffy wall. I extracted my face from the wall of grey fluff that was moving back and forth, feeling around it and then upward. I reached nearly as high as I could when I reached an outcropping, with some very large teeth, that was dripping warm and sticky drool. “Grrrr.” The growl made the massive fuzzy chest in front of me vibrate. “Oh noes. This isn’t good, not good at all.” I tilted my head back, craning my neck to get a look at the gigantic wolf, and gave a shaky smile. “I’ll… uh… be going now.” Then I took off running as fast as I could for the dubious safety of the cabin and the larger structure alongside it. What was that thing eating? It was fast and strong too, as I discovered when it cut me off and swatted me with a massive paw, sending me flying. No fair! Wolves aren’t supposed to grow that big! Or that strong. I was going to feel that in the morning. Oh wait, I’d probably be healed by then, or dead, but you know what I mean. I ragdolled a good twenty-five feet through the air and was about to slam into the corrugated steel of the larger of the two buildings when I felt something strange. It was like I could feel the metal coming at me, or vice versa, and I instinctively reached out for it. I didn’t slam into the wall quite as hard as I thought I would have, and I was sort of stuck to it as I slowly slid upside down toward the ground several feet below. Whatever was keeping me stuck to the wall slowed my descent and it was only a few feet anyway before my head touched the ground. I was stuck like that for a moment, my back stuck to the wall, my head on the ground, my arms splayed out, and my legs over me so that my toes touched the ground as well. Between my upside down and splayed limbs, I locked eyes with the giant wolf and muttered, “Of course you realize, this means war.” It growled and put some distance between us and then seemed to decide to charge at me with a full head of steam. Shouldn’t it have just eaten me? This didn’t seem like typical giant wolf behavior to me. Wait, can giant wolves have typical behavior since they’re inherently atypical? It was something to ponder, later. I had more important things to worry about at the moment, like, was someone giving that wolf orders or something? I wasn’t going to complain since its' backing up before charging had given me time to figure out why I was stuck the way I was. “Cool, electromagnetism.” That didn’t tell me how to get myself free though. That colossal predator charging at me at full speed and looking to crush me against the metal wall gave me plenty of incentive though. Instinct saved me again. Thank you, instincts, I owe you one. Probably more than one, but who’s counting? I felt myself detach from the wall in my panic and quickly rolled to the side, just before the wolf slammed head-first into the wall where I had been a moment before. The structure was sturdy and although the wolf’s head put a massive dent in the wall, it didn’t seem to do much more damage than that. The wolf was out cold though, and probably dreaming of ripping me limb from limb. Since I couldn't have it coming after me later, I finished it off before moving on. It wasn’t easy slitting that huge thing’s throat but when I put enough effort into it my claws were up to the task. I’d have to come back and see if I could salvage the fur later. I could get a new cape out of it, hell, I could get a whole outfit. I decided to go into the larger structure first. Firstly, I was right outside, and secondly, it was the building with the satellite dish and antennas. I went to the large barn-like doors and pulled one open with the screech of metal on metal. I had barely gotten the door open when something furry, strong, and the size of a small car slammed into me with an ear-piercing shriek. By the time I managed to get air back into my lungs, whatever had hit me managed to push me all the way back to Lake Kevin, shrieking the whole time. Okay, this was getting annoying. I wasn’t sure if it was trying to smother or drown me, but suddenly we were both in the water and it got enough of a shock from the electricity that I was generating to back off and give me some breathing room. Speaking of breathing, I needed air. Just as I was thinking that and clawing my way back onto the shore, something slapped me in the butt hard enough to make me wheeze as I tried to get some air in my lungs. That hurt like hell, it felt like the worst spanking I’d ever had. And when you keep in mind what kind of guy my dad is, that’s saying something. I rolled and lashed out with every bit of electricity I had, but it wasn’t enough to kill the thing. It let out a pained squeal and backed away though, so maybe I could win this. I owed whatever it was for my sore butt. As I was about to jump it to try to turn the fight in my favor, a woman’s voice yelled, “Keep your hands off my beaver!” “That thing is a beaver?!” I had to be dealing with some kind of bio-devisor or mad scientist here. Probably a supervillain if she could create such a blood-thirsty, and spanky, behemoth, not to mention that wolf and the dogmen. It was the beaver that made my anger swell though. How could she make a mockery of Canada's majestic and noble national animal like that? My momentary shock, indignation, and confusion were enough to turn the tide, in the beaver’s favor. That wet and hairy thing damn near engulfed me with a tackle and once again I was fighting for air. I shocked, bit, kicked, and clawed and I was probably blue in the face under all of my fur when I finally managed to work myself free. It didn’t give me time to recover, coming at me again and digging its large teeth deep into my shoulder. I hissed in pain and raked the claws of my other hand viciously across its eyes. It shrieked in response, rearing back and releasing its grip on my shoulder. Owie, that hurt. While it was thrashing in agony and splashed in the water, I let loose with what little electricity I had at hand. It wasn’t dead, but it was spasming. “Wynonna!” the voice shouted again as a woman ran up to put herself between me and my opponent. The woman was swarthy with dark hair and eyes and dressed casually in jeans and a flannel shirt and she knelt down to gently stroke her… umm… pet while whispering softly for a moment. She turned her gaze to me as she pleaded, “You’ve killed my adlets and Fenris, don’t take Wynonna from me too.” Something was wrong here, she didn’t smell right for someone who was supposedly upset and defeated and her eyes kept glancing at the lake behind me. "Please, I have nothing left but her and… Kevin!” She shouted the last and let out a shrill whistle as I tried to place the name, it was so familiar. Then I remembered and turned to look at the lake and the humongous squid-like creature that was surfacing near the shore. “Huh, I thought Kevin was the name of the lake, that makes a lot more sense. Kevin is a stupid name for a lake any...” “No, Kevin is my Kraken, and your doom!” the woman interrupted, dropping the concerned act and laughing maniacally as a thirty-foot tentacle shot out to wrap itself around me. One of my arms was pinned to my side and it was attempting to crush the air out of my lungs as it held me in front of her like some sort of prize. Seriously? Why did everyone I meet want to kill me? Anger bubbled inside me and my free fist lashed out to punch the woman in the face. A crack and a spurt of blood marked her nose breaking and she fell to the ground in an unconscious heap. Perhaps that was a mistake because the moment that her lights were out, Kevin the Kraken went crazy. I may have let out a girly squeal of fear as I was yanked away and got a decent look at the monster that had me in its grip. It was dark blue and grey and kind of looked like a giant squid, with a dozen massive tentacles like the one that was crushing the air out of me. It also had huge bulbous red eyes and something that I thought was a goatee at first, just to make it look more evil, but it turned out to be a crapload of smaller and thinner tentacles around its toothsome maw. I would have screamed if I could have gotten air in my lungs. Cute catgirl protagonist (even if I wasn’t fully female downstairs quite yet) and a massive tentacle monster. Those were dots that I did not want to connect. “No! I don’t like hentai!” I thought frantically as I squeezed my thighs tightly together and got a mouth full of tentacle. No, not those ones, the one that was holding me. I bit into that sucker with every bit of ferocity that I could summon, and started clawing at it with my free hand as well. I wasn’t doing much more than pissing the Kraken off that way, but I managed to build up enough of a charge to deliver a severe enough shock to make it let go of me. It dropped me in the water and another shock, as I treaded water and tried to catch my breath, got it to back off enough for me to swim to shore. As soon as I was on dry land again, I grabbed my broken scepter and impaled the beaver to finish it off, grabbed the woman by the hair, and dragged her back to the metal structure where I closed the door firmly behind us. After taking a good look around the building to make sure that my captive didn’t have anything else lying in wait to kill me, I found some restraints that were probably meant for those dogmen and strapped her down on an examination table. Once I was sure that she wasn’t going anywhere and it was relatively safe for now, I started looking around Captain Cryptid’s Criminal Compound. I wasn’t guessing at the name, there was an actual big neon sign in what I assumed to be her lab. Looking through her lab, I found a really nice computer setup, her manifesto, and a really fancy-looking cellphone, along with a bunch of notes on animal physiology that I couldn’t make heads or tails of. Not because I wasn’t smart enough, but because her penmanship was atrocious. She should have been arrested for that alone. I couldn’t stop the tears when I found the phone. This was it, I could finally contact my mom and Rika. I’d know whether one of them would help me or if they hated me now as much as every other person seemed to. If they didn’t want me what would I do? Would I spend the rest of my life out here talking to the animals? My hands were trembling as I dialed the number for Mom’s secure phone. I had to leave the phone on the desk and pulled my hand away after dialing the number, putting it on speaker since I didn’t want to accidentally fry my only means of communication at the moment. It was hard to keep focused enough to constantly disperse the increasing electricity at the moment too. I was actually surprised that I remembered the number, and Rika’s too. Going by the date on the phone, I’d been traveling through the middle of nowhere for over seven months. I had decided that I wanted to try Mom first since Dad had let slip that she was a mutant too. There was a moment, and several rings, before my mother’s familiar voice answered, “Yes? Hello?” My voice seemed to catch in my throat, stuck in the whirlwind of anxiety that had suddenly taken up residence there. When I did manage to speak, my voice was trembling as much as the rest of me. “L-liver, s-sauerkraut, and p-pistachio ice cream,” I stammered, hoping that I was remembering the right code phrase. There was a gasp on the other end and then, in a voice that suddenly sounded as nervous as mine did, she asked, “Who would eat such a thing?” “A… a v-vanilla gorilla from Manila,” I replied tentatively as tears wetted the fur on my cheeks and I tried to swallow the lump in my throat that wouldn’t seem to go away. A sharp inhale followed by, “Na… Felicia, is that you? When and where were you born?” For a moment, I was too shocked by her calling me by my name, my real name, to answer. Rika was the only one who knew that name, had she somehow contacted her? My heart was beating so rapidly that I feared it might explode by the time I was able to tell her, “October 13th, 1991. My birth certificate says that I was born at Canadian Forces Base Esquimalt on Vancouver Island, but I was actually born two months premature on the HMCS Vancouver, while you were still working on light duty.” It sounded like she was sniffling as badly as I was on her end but she managed to compose herself. “Where are you?” “I d-dunno. I’m at the hideout of someone who calls herself Captain Cryptid. She’s t-tied up at the moment and I’m using her cell phone. I’ve been trying to get to you for so long. D-dad and his friends tried to kill me and I… I’m a mutant. I don’t look the same anymore… I don’t think I look human,” I hesitantly babbled to get the rejection over with. It would be like ripping a band-aid off. “It doesn’t matter what you look like Felicia, you’re my baby, and I’m coming for you. Stay on the line and I’ll get someone to try and trace the location on that phone. We’ll be there as soon as we can. Are you in any danger? Are you hurt?” “I’ve been better,” I admitted with a mix of a laugh and a teary sniffle. “I got chased by some dogmen, smacked around by a giant wolf, and mauled a bit by a giant beaver, but I’ll be okay if I can get some sleep, I seem to heal while I’m sleeping. I think Kevin might want a piece of me if I go back outside though.” “Who is Kevin?” she asked with a hard edge to her voice. “Captain Cuckoo called Kevin a Kraken. It’s some big squid monster in the lake. Almost had me.” I shuddered at the thought of Kevin and all of those tentacles. “Okay, we’ve got a location. We’ll be there as soon as we can. I’ll have Dropzone portal us to CFB Edmonton and we can take an MSA transport from there. It’ll still probably take a few hours though. Just stay safe and we’ll be there soon. Love you, Felicia.” “L-love you too, Mom.” The moment that the call was disconnected, my legs gave out, I fell to the floor, and broke down into a sobbing mess. The last seven months and change all seemed to catch up with me all at once now that the end seemed to be in sight. Captain Cryptid’s Criminal Compound October 4th, 2007 - 2:15 p.m. After I had finally stopped crying, I fell asleep for about two hours going by the time on the phone. Physically, I felt a lot better when I woke up, so I tried to pull myself together mentally as well and get organized. I didn’t want my mom to see me for the first time in over a dozen years bedraggled and practically naked except for my fur. I had found the bathroom earlier when trying to make sure that this place was safe and as I used the facilities for the first time in over seven months it felt strange and luxurious. Even things like toilet paper were something that I used to take for granted. It took a while to clean up and make myself presentable, but a good portion of that time was spent staring at the girl in the mirror for the first time. I had the general body shape of a teenage girl, if a well-endowed one. Looking at my body, I wasn’t fat per se, everything seemed to be curvy and in proportion, only those proportions were large, making me extra thicc. I didn’t want to hazard a guess at what my bra size was going to be though. My whole body and face were covered with reddish-gold fur with small black rosettes along my sides, legs, and arms, and looking over my shoulder into the mirror showed them on my back as well. I knew from earlier explorations that the rosettes and patterns in my fur were also present on the skin beneath it. The fur color faded from ginger to cream in circles around my eyes and five wavy streaks that went up my forehead toward my hairline. Ginger ringlets of hair with dark crimson and tawny highlights framed my face and fell to around my waist. Under the fur, my face was heart-shaped with a slightly pronounced muzzle, a pink kitty nose, whiskers, and pronounced canines. The eyes were the most striking though, still seafoam green cat eyes, but larger. Between those big eyes, the cute little nose, and the comically large cat ears with black tufts at the ends atop my head, I looked adorable, like a kitten. I wished that my tail would finish growing, but at least there seemed to be nothing left of that thing that used to reside between my legs. I finally managed to tear myself away from the mirror and tried to look for something that I could wear. Captain Cuckoo seemed taller than me, and much skinnier so I doubted that her closet would be any help, even if I could find it. I was guessing that it was in the cabin, not that it mattered. I had to settle for making a makeshift dress out of a sheet I found by cutting a hole in it with a claw and then securing it with a belt made from a strip torn off of the end. It wasn’t long after I finished that task that I heard what sounded like a helicopter. I ran as fast as I could to the doors, ignoring Captain Cuckoo’s muffled shouting. She had woken up about an hour ago and hadn’t had anything nice to say so I had gagged her and ignored her since. What I thought was a helicopter turned out to be a VTOL and it was the coolest thing I’d ever seen, I couldn’t wait to ride in it and I was shaking with a mix of nerves and excitement as it descended. Kevin was near the shore again and was reaching upward with tentacles to try to grab the transport as it moved toward the building that I was peeking out from to land. It was still over the water though and I was half shocked and half terrified when some crazy person jumped out of the VTOL and right into the drink with the Kraken. With my heart racing, I ran toward the water without thinking, only wanting to help in case Kevin got to them before they could get safely to shore. Kevin did go after the person in the water, but I had barely reached the shore when whoever it was, zoomed under the water toward the Kraken and then through it in an explosion of blood and gore that mushroomed outward, leaving the water red and cloudy. Kevin was still going through his death throes when I spotted the person swimming to shore just beneath the surface. Only, it wasn’t a person like I was expecting. It was only my sharp vision that allowed me to catch sight of her as she emerged from the cloud of red in the water, and she caught me watching her and hesitated to approach any closer. It was some sort of mermaid, but like, terrifying and wearing a bikini top and a waist wrap of some sort. Pale chalk-like skin gave way to a tail with blood-red scales and jagged black fins at the tips and along the sides, with some sort of spines that looked razor sharp. A similarly black dorsal sail jutted out from her spine and along the back of her tail, though it was more a collection of bone spikes with black webbing connecting them. Similar bone spikes jutted out from her shoulders and elbows and, from the shoulders down her arms and hands were covered in the same blood-red scales as her tail, while her hands were long with webbed fingers that ended in black claws that put mine to shame. She looked at me uncertainly for a moment before grinning at me beneath the water, showing a mouth full of shark teeth. Between that, the glowing red eyes with slit pupils, and mere slits for nostrils instead of a nose, it was enough to make me shiver in fear, especially after what she’d done to Kevin. She rose to the surface, and I was in the midst of a tentative step backward when the moment her head cleared the surface her features began to shift. Short black hair lengthened to shoulder length and turned strawberry blonde, glowing red eyes turned green, bone spikes and fins retracted, and the scales and pale skin gave way to a much healthier-looking skin tone as she got a little bit bigger. The biggest shock was the face that formed from that terrifying visage though, a little older, but a face that I barely remembered from when I was little. Her answer was to wrap me up tightly in her arms. I was half afraid that I was going to accidentally electrocute her as she did that and smiled at me with a far more comforting face. “Energizer, huh? Don’t worry, you can’t hurt me while I have my PK shell on. I’m here now and I’m not going to lose you again.” I don’t know how long she held me, letting me cry it all out for the second time that day while in her arms, but everything else faded away. Finally, a man approached and I jumped at his voice, retreating deeper into my mother’s embrace as he said, “We finished our search, Captain. Cryptid is nuts and we found evidence linking her to several robberies down in Calgary to fund her experiments. We’ll take her to the MSA office in Edmonton and let them deal with her, while you take your daughter back to base.” “Good work, Bulwark. I’ll leave it in your hands,” Mom said, holding me tighter as if to reassure me. Only once his footsteps had faded into the distance did she tilt my chin up to get a good look at me. “You’re safe now, Felicia, I promise. I guess I should explain some things. I’m Barracuda, the leader of T.R.U North’s western branch. This is my team, and they won’t let anything bad happen to you. We won’t be going home with them though, we’ve got a faster ride. Usually, I’d get Dropzone to take us, but I think you’ll be more comfortable having our team’s new magical consultant take us. Felicia, I’d like you to meet Danarika, though she goes by Fallen when on duty.” I looked at my mother uncertainly. I had had social anxiety long before people had tried to kill me and while I trusted my mom, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to extend that trust to or interact with other people yet. And then the name hit me. The same name that Rika used for her character in Ergan’s Tears. Fallen1 was her IM handle too. Mom gently turned my face so that I could see the young woman patiently waiting for us. She had a very pretty face with lavender skin and long near-white blonde hair. Her eyes were strange, bright orange irises with slit pupils that were housed in pitch black sclera. Winding ram-like black horns emerged from her temples, curling back and sideways like a crown atop her head, making her pointed ears seem to stand out. She also had bat-like wings and a spaded tail that matched her skin tone. “Rika?” I asked as my jaw dropped and my eyes went wide. I tried to shake it off. What she looked like didn't matter, and I should know that better than anyone. She was like a big sister to me and, no matter what she looked like, she was probably the only person that I could trust besides my mother. The only other person that I had wanted to find. Okay, so my Mom is a superhero and my big sis looks like a demon. It wasn’t all that big a deal after what I’d gone through, even just today. In fact, it was kinda awesome. “I… guess that I’m not the only one with a long story to tell, huh, big sis?” I had to stop myself from staring as she laughed nervously, giving me a glimpse of fangs and a forked tongue. “Hehe… yeah. You’re looking good, Felicia, so I guess I don’t need to help you cover your transition after all. You know, I meant it when I told you I would do that, and help get you somewhere safe. You scared the hell out of me when you disappeared like that, but I knew that you’d survive and find one of us. Now I can finally carry through on that promise. Let’s go home.”

“I was driving home from work about 10.30pm and I was on the Rocky Point range going around a bend when suddenly something ran in front of my car, I didn’t know what I saw, it was big and really hairy with an oblong-shaped head. Its arms were hanging behind it as it ran.”1 Yet another case to be made for vehicles to be equipped with dashcams in hopes of better investigating cryptid sightings. Purportedly the only hominin endemic to Australia, yowie morphology exhibits several quirks. Considerably larger than most humans, one can stand as tall as 6’2″ to 12 feet tall despite its stooped posture. Yowie arms are described as disproportionately long in proportion to their bodies. Also out of proportion is a yowie’s head, giving the impression of being closely related to a no-neck high school jock. Curiouser is the variations in tracks, exhibiting three, four, or five toes.2 One day, inshallah, we’ll know for certain if the diversity in toes is due to speciation, or braindead hoaxers who can’t keep a story straight. Jury’s still out on the yowie being marsupial analogues to primtes, or if it’s venomous like the other critters haunting ‘Straya’s outback.

I know summer isn’t officially over until the autumnal equinox rolls around mid-September, but by the time the calendar reads August 31, I’m already thinking fall. My husband and I will be closing our pool this coming weekend, Halloween stuff is stocked in most every store I visit, and the days are growing noticeably shorter. I live in the northeast where summer is much, much too short. Blink and it’s easy to miss. I love fall, but I thrive on summer. So…I’m lamenting the demise of my favorite season with an end of summer sale on SOLSTICE ISLAND, my breezy romantic adventure novella. Many thanks to all my friends and fellow bloggers who are helping me spread the word today and tomorrow! Why should you read SOLSTICE ISLAND (other than the fact it’s like a shot of summer wrapped up inside Kindle pages)? I’m glad you asked. 🙂 The Top Ten Reasons Why You Should Read Solstice Island by Mae Clair: - You’ll meet a hot charter boat captain trying to live down his family legacy. - You’ll encounter a spunky heroine cryptozoologist, determined hot captain should embrace said family legacy and all the baggage that goes with it. - You’ll be able to impress your friends with your stunning new knowledge of cryptozoology. - You may find yourself struck by the uncontrollable urge to look up blurry images of strange creatures online or go on a cryptid hunt (think Loch Ness, Big Foot, and the Jersey Devil). - You’ll learn why you should never ignore a craving for mint chocolate chip ice cream. - The next time your boat is attacked by a rampaging sea monster, you’ll know precisely what to do. - You’ll be swept up in a tale of romance, adventure, and folklore. - You’ll uncover buried treasure, thwart a villain, and discover a new use for a boat oar. - As a 72 page novella, SOLSTICE ISLAND makes a quick end of summer read. And the number one reason you should read SOLSTICE ISLAND: - It’s FREE on Amazon August 31 and September 1! SOLSTICE ISLAND Blurb: Can an ancient leviathan work magic between a practical man and an idealistic woman? Rylie Carswell is an amateur cryptozoologist in search of a mythical creature, the Sea Goliath. In order to reach Solstice Island, a location the ancient leviathan is rumored to haunt, she’s forced to hire charter boat captain, Daniel Decatur. Initially, Daniel wants nothing to do with the trip or the fool woman waving double payment in his face. Convinced she’s yet another loony treasure hunter looking for gold on the remote island, he reluctantly agrees. An embittered neighbor wants to have his charter license yanked, so the extra cash will help him stay afloat. It doesn’t take long for Daniel to realize Rylie is after the same beast his parents were tracking when they mysteriously vanished ten years earlier. He’s avoided all links to cryptozoology ever since, but the smart and sexy cryptid hunter has him second-guessing his oath and wondering what he’s signed on for. Warning: A family legacy, glowing plankton and rough waters. Download SOLSTICE ISLAND Free from: Add SOLSTICE ISLAND to your Goodreads TBR

Let’s see, how many of you read past the headline? Good. This is not an article about proof of any cryptid related to Bigfoot. Just as many people believe aliens and their presence, even interference in our daily affairs if not our evolution will one day be proven; many people believe the existence of Bigfoot will one day be proven. This article is not even about that. The question I have is what happens next, provided Bigfoot is shown by legitimate science to be a living breathing creature? There is a movement among the Bigfoot believers for it to receive status as a protected species. Seekers like Todd Standing have already gotten a commitment from the Canadian government to grant protected status to the creature. Just as soon as he proves its existence. Melba Ketchum says repeatedly on her FaceBook page that she only wants protection for what she now says is a member of the human family. Some go so far as to say the killing a Bigfoot should be treated as murder. A debate arises regularly across the various websites and FaceBook pages where the armchair cryptozoologists gather: Kill vs No Kill. Some of the believers say that the DNA evidence is enough. Once DNA can be confirmed it will be taken as proof and the issue will be settled, governments can get down to the business of protecting the species. So far that is not really working out as hoped. Diehard skeptics believe that only a body will do. Now that need not be a dead body, a live capture would in many ways be preferable. Also, unfortunately incredibly more difficult and potentially dangerous for all involved, so what is most likely to occur in the pursuit of proof is a dead body. At the far end of the No Kill spectrum, there is also a No Capture group. Some people will just insist on making life difficult. At this point in the article I am interested where our readers stand on the topic. Existence or Non-Existence does not enter into this poll, that is a different discussion. This poll deals with a presumption of existence and the question of killing a specimen or not. I am curious about how this plays out, but some of you may well ask what my position is on this question. Simply put, Don’t find out if Bigfoot is real. Stop looking. There are people out there who follow crypto-zoology, some of them educated, who say we should not be bothering to look for Bigfoot. The highest odds are that if a creature of that reported size has gone undiscovered for this length of time the most likely reason is it does not exist so why bother wasting resources on looking. To them I respond that in that opinion they are by far the most ignorant of the lot, believers and skeptics alike. Nothing is learned by burying your head in the sand. If Science only looked for things that we already know exist, what would ever have been discovered? In the mean time we only just discovered a ligament in the human knee. What on Earth has been more rigorously studied than the human body? If there is something, I cannot name it. So why the hell am I saying do not prove the existence of Bigfoot?? Because IF they exist, and IF people actually want them protected, the best thing that we can do to achieve that end is let them be. Any amount of knowledge we gain about a creature only puts them at further risk from our hands. An article from September 2013 In 2008, the number of rhino poached barely reached double digits. Last year, the number was 668 and will be about 700 when you read this, meaning an average of 2.7 rhino die every day. By the end of the year, between 900 and 1000 rhinos will have died for their horns. An article from early November 2013 The fact that trafficking wildlife – or more accurately wildlife parts – is illegal is no deterrent. When a business is worth between £4-6billion globally people will take the risk. The international sale of ivory has been banned since 1989 yet elephants are being slaughtered for their tusks as never before. Around 32,000 were killed in Africa last year, which equates to 96 a day. From an article by Daniel Cressey of Nature magazine Human activity is still killing Right Whales, one of the most endangered animals in the ocean. An analysis of four decades of whale deaths shows that attempts to prevent them have not had a demonstrable impact. From The Daily Mail The year 2012 will end on a cruel note for tigers. As many as 78 tigers have been killed, mostly by poachers, this year – the highest number in the last 12 years. The closest any year came to this figure was 2001, when 71 tigers were killed. The dramatic rise in the tiger deaths has cast aspersions on conservation efforts for the wild cats. Until the 2010 tiger census, 1,706 tigers were left in the wild. Out of the 78 tigers killed this year (till November 22), 50 fell victim to poachers, while another 28 died due to natural causes. Poaching is the second main reason why giant pandas are nearing extinction. The main reason why people poach a panda is for its skin. Since pandas are such rare animals their skin is treasured and can be sold for a lot of money. A panda skin was sold for $65,000 once! All of these animals are “Protected.” Words on paper not worth the ink they are written in. All of these protections are reactionary, setting punishment for those who break these laws. By the time a poacher is caught, IF one out of a dozen or a hundred are caught, by that time the “protected” animal is already dead. All we do is hope to punish the trangressor, we protect nothing. The monetary gains far outweigh the losses to the poachers, while well intentioned law enforcement is overburdened, underfunded, ineffectual, and at times corrupted by the very people they are set to catch. Proving the existence of Bigfoot, if it does exist is about recognition of the person who manages it. That and that alone. There are many out there who claim they want to prove it to protect it. If they exist, they have not been located for hundreds of years. There has never been a confirmed specimen killed by a human. What protection do they need? The day Bigfoot is proven to exist is the day they start dying. If you truly want to protect it, stop trying to prove it. Find us on FaceBook for Updates and more.75 comments

Caitlin, Dee, and Meru return to talk about the ubiquitous Beach Episode, mental health care in Japan, and the big ball of mess that is Arima. Editor’s Note: This series of episodes was recorded before Meru changed their name and pronouns; the transcript will reflect both in their updated form. Date Recorded: October 24th, 2021 Hosts: Caitlin, Dee, Meru 0:04:39 Arima’s depression 0:13:52 Love vs codependency 0:18:43 Maho’s dentist 0:24:38 Yukino’s parents 0:29:47 Just ‘90s dad things 0:32:24 The red flag parade 0:39:01 Mental illness and therapy in Japan 0:42:43 Beach episode 0:44:51 Teenagers are gross 0:50:31 Sex-Ed in Japan 0:56:23 Arima’s trigger 0:59:56 Episode 19 and Anno’s departure??? CAITLIN: Hi and welcome to Chatty AF: The Anime Feminist Podcast. Today we’ll be talking about episodes 14 through 19 of His and Her Circumstances, a.k.a. Kare Kano, the ‘90s classic shoujo anime directed by Hideaki Anno. My name is Caitlin, I am one of the managing editors at Anime Feminist, and today I am joined by Dee and Meru. MERU: Hi, my name is Meru, and I am an editor here at Anime Feminist as well as a Japanese-to-English localization editor, proofreader, and QA, as well as a journalist, as well as a very hardworking individual who loves anime and also their bed. MERU: Yeah, I think that sums me up. [Chuckles] DEE: Excellent. I’m Dee. I’m one of the other managing editors at AniFem. You can find most of my writings on my blog The Josei Next Door. One of these days I will fully update it. And you can also hang out with me on Twitter @joseinextdoor. MERU: Oh snap! I didn’t tell people they could hang out with me on Twitter either. DEE: Yeah, yeah, yeah! What’s your handle, Meru? Tell the folks. MERU: I’m @pixelatedlenses, where you can see me post literally about anything, but today, on this day, it’s gonna be about my tomato pie that I made. It’s very good. DEE: Ooh, exciting! CAITLIN: All right, I guess I should drop my Twitter handle now, too, since y’all are both doing it. It’s all— DEE: Yeah, plug yo’self! CAITLIN: Yeah, it’s @alltsun_nodere. MERU: Do you know it took me until this year to figure out the joke in your Twitter handle? MERU: I was like, “Oh, I get it now!” CAITLIN: Yeah, because I’m all tsun and no dere. MERU: I do speak Japanese and I just was like, “What is tsun? What is dere?” [Gasps] “Oh!” DEE: “Oh, tsundere! There we go. I got it.” MERU: “Oh! I get it.” DEE: I love that moment when a joke comes together. MERU: It was kismet. It was great. CAITLIN: So today, we begin the second half of Kare Kano, which— MERU: We sure do. CAITLIN: [Chuckles] This show has never had a great budget, but it kinda starts to go really off the rails with this one! But it’s okay because, you know what, they get pretty creative with it. MERU: They do. CAITLIN: The first episode and a half of this stretch, however, are recap episodes. No framing device. No new footage. Just a clip show for an episode and a half about the previous 13 episodes. DEE: Yeah, we took a couple of weeks in between recording the first half and recording this one, so I thought the recap would be useful, and I was like, “Yeah, okay, an episode of recap,” and I get to the end and I’m like, “They didn’t really cover everything.” And then I start 15 and I’m like, “Oh my God, we’re still recapping!” DEE: You know what? It’s a good thing I skimmed because I was about to skip the entire episode, but only half of it is a recap, which is very confusing. So, don’t skip episode 15, folks. The last half is extremely slow-paced, but technically stuff happens, so… CAITLIN: It is. It is important to the show. Yeah, Dee, it was very funny to me, actually, when we were talking about doing this and you were like, “I actually have plans coming up during the period where we would be recording, so I would have to take a couple of weeks off, and I don’t know if I would forget everything, so if you guys want to find someone else, then that’s fine.” And I was just like, “Don’t worry.” DEE: You said, “There’s plenty of recaps. It’s fine.” And I’m like, “Uh, that’s a little concerning. But okay, let’s do it.” DEE: Yeah, so we started with some recaps, which I guess in theory would give us less to talk about this stretch, but I would say that’s not exactly the case. CAITLIN: A lot happens. MERU: [crosstalk] Yeah, I was gonna say there’s a lot, a lot! [Chuckles] DEE: It’s not even that a lot happens, but what happens is A Lot, if that makes sense. [Chuckles] So we’ll definitely get to that. But Caitlin, sorry, did you want to take us through it chronologically here? CAITLIN: Sure. So, in this stretch of episodes, Yukino and Arima talk on the phone, we learn about how Yukino’s parents met, Yukino just misses Arima so much because he’s at training camp, and then he comes back. And we’ll talk about what happens when we get there. We meet Arima’s family. And then, they fuck. MERU: [Guffaws] They do! Oh my God! I was not expecting that! CAITLIN: And then we have episode 19, which is the beginning of the big final arc… which has some really interesting animation choices, shall we say. DEE: You can actually see the production collapse in episode 19. There’s a visualization of the production where a paper cutout of Yukino catches fire and then the whole thing burns, and I’m like, “Yep, that’s what happened to your production, huh? It’s a metaphor!” MERU: My first and only thought was “Did they fuck so hard that they messed up the budget?” MERU: Because I did not know! Like, everything that’s happening, every frame is a new moment for me, and I was just like, “What?” And I was like, “Oh, maybe it’s a joke. It’ll change.” And then I got to the end of the video and it transitioned to the next one on YouTube and I was like, “It didn’t change, though. That was just the episode.” DEE: Yeah. So, Caitlin, is it gonna look like that till the end, or do they get their shit under control? DEE: No to which part? CAITLIN: The answer to both of those questions is no. DEE: Okay, so it’s not going to be sketches and cardboard cutouts till the end, but their shit is not under control. Noted. DEE: Yeah, no, I’m kinda with you, Meru. I got to that last episode— Well, and the thing is that— We’re jumping ahead but it’s fine. We’ll backtrack. Right before that episode where we enter this multi-parter about the school festival, right before that, Arima has this really rough PTSD flashback and starts to dissociate and throws up, and I’m like, “Oh, this is really intense.” And then we cut to this episode that is abstract and surreal and borderline absurd. It gets extra weird, in addition to the animation being strange, right? CAITLIN: [crosstalk] It’s so strange! MERU: It’s not funny but it also is, because Arima has this deeply traumatic moment and you’re like, “Oh my God,” and then in the next episode, you’re like, “What?” [Chuckles] DEE: Yeah, so a part of me is even like, “Did Arima have a psychotic break? Is any of this actually happening, or is this in his head? Have we entered ‘last two episodes of Evangelion’ territory here? What is going on?” So it definitely— The switch— MERU: [crosstalk] Okay, once again, I have to ask. DEE: Yeah, so— MERU: Is there a psychotic break in Eva? DEE: Yeah, I mean, it’s more compl— Oh, there’s multiple psychotic breaks in Eva. Not to get too deep in the weeds, but the last two episodes take place pretty much entirely inside the characters’ heads. And there were also some production issues, but they use it somewhat artfully to do some interesting things with sketchiness of… which this episode kind of starts off like. So I’m like, “Something really bad just happened and now we’re acting like things are fine. Should I be concerned?” So if you hadn’t warned me about production, Caitlin, I might have been… I was galaxy-braining some theories about what was happening! CAITLIN: [Laughs] No. No, nothing that wild. I will say, about this episode and about that weird jump from point A to point D or whatever you want to say, this is the Yukino arc. It is primarily about Yukino’s growth, Yukino learning who she is as a person and developing a sense of identity. In the manga, after the Yukino arc, there is the Arima arc, which goes more into just how messed up Arima is as a person. And this also brings back when you were asking last episode about how it seemed like falling in love kind of “fixed” Arima’s depression— DEE: [crosstalk] No, that’s clearly not the case. CAITLIN: —and I said, “Arima is not okay! He has never been okay.” DEE: No, we… Yeah. MERU: Episode 18 made that very apparent. This poor sweet child— CAITLIN: [Hums mysteriously] MERU: —needs a good adult to intervene and say, “Okay, sweetie, we’re gonna find you a psychiatrist and some therapy and we’re gonna get you some help, because you’ve got some bad trauma.” CAITLIN: But because this is Japan in the ‘90s, the closest thing he gets is parents who say, “Hey, don’t bully our son,” which is pretty cool. DEE: But that can go far. MERU: [crosstalk] And you know what? At least he won first place at the national kendo tournament. So, like, that cures everything. CAITLIN: [Hums skeptically] I mean, obviously it sure does not. MERU: It sure does not! It doesn’t at all. [Groans sadly] DEE: I do really appreciate how much his adoptive parents clearly love and support him and defend him from the rest of his shit family, because I think that Arima’s story could have been— Obviously it goes some dark places, and I’m not trying to gloss over what happened to him when he was a child, because clearly it is buried deep in his brain and is a lot of unaddressed trauma. But I think the show could have gone full grimdark with him, and so the fact that he has a support system is really nice to see and, I think, keeps it from feeling like tragedy porn. So I did appreciate that moment with his parents being like, “Hey, you need to shut up and leave him alone because he’s a good kid and we love him.” And he heard it, too, and so he knows. And yeah, I like that. I thought that was a good touch there. CAITLIN: [Hums mysteriously] Just subtitle this as “[Hmms in Manga Reader]”. DEE: Sure, sure, but I’m not reading the manga, Caitlin. I’m watching the anime and those are different products. MERU: I was gonna say, our source text is the anime itself. DEE: We can maybe have you regale us with some manga stuff when we get to the end of the show. But as far as the anime goes, I thought that was a nice touch. MERU: [crosstalk] Agreed. CAITLIN: Okay, yeah. You know what, that’s fair. So, let’s jump back a little bit to the beginning of the stretch that we watched to episode— DEE: [deadpan] Okay, so you want me to recap the first 12 episodes. I’ll do that. CAITLIN: [Chuckles] Yeah, no! DEE: Okay, past the recap! CAITLIN: [crosstalk] No, let’s not talk about— [Laughs] Let’s jump back to episode 15.5. I was going to say, “Let’s jump back to episode 14,” but we do not need to do that. CAITLIN: [Chuckles] We can do that by listening to the episodes we already recorded. CAITLIN: So, the big thing in that episode is that Yukino and Arima talk on the phone. DEE: There’s a little bit with Asaba’s backstory in that one, as well. CAITLIN: Oh, yes, yes. We also do get some… DEE: He’s like the only supporting character we really see much of in this stretch, but you get a little bit more of him and why he and Arima are friends, and he connects with him as far as not getting along with their birth parents very well. So, I thought it was nice to get a little extra with him. Also, he’s goofy. When he’s on screen I laugh, and that is also nice. CAITLIN: Asaba always makes the scene better, definitely. MERU: This is the first episode that I liked him in. CAITLIN: [crosstalk] Really? MERU: I was like, “Oh, this chaotic bi child is my new favorite.” MERU: Like the “Do it for her” meme, but it’s just me with a corkboard of pictures of Asaba. MERU: I was just like, oh, I love him so much! I love him so much, this good kid. CAITLIN: [Chuckles] You did a big heel-turn on him! MERU: I did. I did. I really did. This was the episode where I was like, “Okay, I like him a lot. I do like him a lot.” CAITLIN: [Chuckles] Oh, he’s sad! Now, I see! MERU: Look! Look! I have a type for characters: the sadder they get, the more I like ‘em. MERU: Which is why I also think I like Arima! Gosh! CAITLIN: I mean, listen: glass houses here. Glass houses. DEE: No judgment, yeah. CAITLIN: Yeah. I cannot judge you for this! [Laughs] MERU: Yeah, this was a good one. I liked Yukino talking on the phone and being like, “Oh! My boyfriend’s gotten taller. That’s kinda hot!” Yeah, it’s great. Tall people rule. DEE: Yeah, I think this little bit of touching on them being long-distance for probably a month because summer vacation in Japan, I think… isn’t it about a month? MERU: It’s like five or six weeks. It’s not very long. It’s pretty much a month. DEE: I was gonna say, I thought it was four to six weeks, somewhere in there. Okay, cool. Yeah, so, not super long. but obviously when you’re in high school and especially when you’ve got a big ol’ crush or are in love, it feels extra long. And I thought it did a nice job of capturing that feeling of not only just “I miss him so much,” but then Yukino has a conversation with Maho where she’s like, “It feels weird that I feel this off without him. I’m worried about me as a person. What does this say about me that I want this guy so much?” And she’s like, “I think it’s okay. I think it just means you have an emotional attachment to him and you miss him and you want to be with him, and that’s all right.” So I did like them addressing that and that sense of “Is this codependency or is this just me wanting to be with somebody I care about?” And I think it definitely falls more on the latter. Of course, Yukino’s thing is she doesn’t really know what she wants to do with her life, and so the fact that Arima is so important to her makes her feel like she’s making him her life, and she doesn’t necessarily want that to be who she is. And I really like those elements of her because I think that is… I mean, just speaking from personal experience, the first time I was head over heels, there was also that sense of “Oh, God! Am I just devoted? Am I losing myself to this relationship? I don’t want that. But also, I like being with this person.” So I thought it touched those notes in a very true-to-life, smart way. MERU: It really did, and it’s still quite actually… I found it quite applicable. It’s kind of one of those timeless things. I think, for people who engage in romance, that is an experience that you have: is, you meet someone and it feels consuming in a kind of mutual way. DEE: [crosstalk] It’s the honeymoon period, right? MERU: Yeah. Like, you’re really into it and you’re really into this personal relationship. And you can see how passionate she is because she’s twirling the phone cord, you know, and she’s… CAITLIN: She’s thinking about how hot his voice sounds… MERU: Right! And she’s like, “Oh, you got taller. 5’8”? Oh, Arima.” [Chuckles] It’s great! CAITLIN: [ironic] I know, so tall: 5’8”! MERU: Which, when she said that, I was like, “So Arima and I are the same height.” CAITLIN: Oh, I didn’t know you were tall, Meru! MERU: Yeah, I am. I am. CAITLIN: Oh, I’m short. MERU: Wait, how tall are you? MERU: What? I’ve been picturing you as like 6’ in my mind. CAITLIN: No, I am 5’4”. DEE: [crosstalk] You give off Tall Girl Vibes, Caitlin! MERU: Dee, are you going to tell me that you’re also not the height I’ve imagined? DEE: I don’t know what height you imagined. Apparently, I’m taller than Caitlin thought I would be when we met IRL. I’m a little shorter than you. I’m somewhere between 5’6” and 5’7”. I played basketball, so I will always tell you I’m 5’7” because you always go up an inch when you play basketball. MERU: You are also shorter than I think you are. Everybody is tall in my mind. It’s just the energy you both give off. CAITLIN: But anyway… But yeah, I really enjoyed that element of it, because that is also something that I have gone through. It’s something that I still go through sometimes, because the dream is to be independent… you know, independent woman who doesn’t need a man. But when I am separated from Jared, separated from my partner, I really miss him, and I feel in a funk. And with our work schedules, there are days of the week where I don’t see him, and a lot of times I have a hard time on those days. So, yeah, I totally understood that, that feeling of “Is this me? Is this codependence?” because, yeah, I had a really hard time reflecting on that part of myself the first time I experienced it, the first time I was in love and was separated from my partner. And so, it is a very real thing that Yukino goes through. And I like that she is reflective about it, that she is figuring out her identity, that she is noticing that she has these feelings of emotional connection and emotional dependence and she’s not just accepting them as necessarily natural—that she is conscious of becoming codependent. DEE: While also wanting to try to figure out who she is. Yeah, I like that balance a lot. MERU: It’s really well done. Great episode. Well, great half of an episode. CAITLIN: [crosstalk] Now, on the other hand… On the other hand, Maho did mention that her boyfriend is 28 years old and a dentist. DEE: Okay, Caitlin, what she said was she likes a 28-year-old dentist— DEE: —and as far as I’m concerned, that means that it’s unreciprocated and you can’t… [Chuckles] I’m sure in the manga it’s… But you know what? They didn’t say it was for sure in the anime. So… CAITLIN: No, in the… [Sighs] I think in the subs they make it clear that he is her boyfriend. But yes. MERU: Oh, no! What a bad adult. MERU: Bad adult! CAITLIN: So bad. DEE: [crosstalk, deadpan] So Maho’s dating a sexual predator. Cool… MERU: Y’all? Yeah, I gotta be real: I don’t understand what adults see in teenagers romantically! It’s weird. It’s not great. Japanese men, do better. [Chuckles] CAITLIN: I take a bus full of teenagers a lot of days of the week, because the bus is one of the only ones that goes into this particular residential area that has a lot of families. And I look at those teens and I’m just like, “You are such tiny children,” and I hear those teens talk and I’m just like, “You guys are having a great time and that’s awesome, and I have no interest in these conversations that you’re having,” other than one time it was funny when a kid said that you couldn’t make fun of him with American stereotypes because he was from Arizona and all of his friends laughed at him. DEE: Okay, dude! CAITLIN: But that’s the level of discourse you get with teenagers! Listen, if there are any teenagers out there listening, be you! Be a teenager. Have a great time with it. I’m 34 years old: I don’t want to be your buddy. DEE: Our brains have developed differently, right? DEE: We’re in different life places, and that’s the way it’s supposed to be! So if a 28-year-old is macking on you, something’s wrong with that 28-year-old! MERU: Teens, teens of the world, if a 28-year-old hits on you, you hit them back, physically. DEE: Run! Yeah. CAITLIN: Yeah. Run! MERU: And then you run. You run and get a responsible adult who understands being an adult. Ah, it’s just so weird. It’s a weird fetish that Japan unfortunately has only leaned into as we’ve gone through the past decades. CAITLIN: Do you guys want— DEE: Well, anime and manga at least. I don’t want to speak for the entire… MERU: Oh, yeah, not in real life. It’s only in anime and manga. DEE: [crosstalk] Pop culture. CAITLIN and DEE: Yeah. MERU: Most Japanese people are like, “That’s weird. That’s not great!” So sorry. Let me clarify. [Chuckles] CAITLIN: [Chuckles] Most are like, “Why are you mackin’ on children? Stop!” DEE: Yeah. “Gross. Knock it off.” Yeah. But in the dub, they kind of skirted around it to make it just sound like Maho had a crush on this guy, and so I was like, “You know what? That’s fine. I can live with that. I don’t need to know anything more about your life, Maho. Just cut me off there, anime, because I know how ‘90s shoujo works.” CAITLIN: Do you guys want a peek behind the curtain? MERU: [crosstalk] No. [Chuckles] No. Yes. CAITLIN: [Chuckles] “No. Yes.” Okay, we can say this is not canonical to the anime. But they do go into how their relationship started, which was that she relentlessly hit on him when she was in middle school and he gave in. MERU: No! That’s worse! CAITLIN: He was literally twice her age when they started dating. DEE: “But she came on to me, officer.” Fuck off. CAITLIN: “She was just so persistent!” DEE: I hate everything about it. Okay, that’s all it— Yep, nope? CAITLIN: [crosstalk] Unfortunately, it does not end with him getting arrested. MERU: [Groans sadly] There really is no justice in this world. MERU: Oh, no! DEE: Speaking from a fiction perspective, it’s the fantasy of the mature older guy who gets you, you know? And he’s not like those immature boys around you. I get it from the fantasy angle but, God, that’s so many years! And it plays into so many really harmful real-world beliefs outside of fiction that teen girls are taught that allow for predators to prey on them. So, maybe be more thoughtful with your age gaps in your stories targeted at teen girls, please and thank you. MERU: Yeah. Yeah… DEE: It’s that fine line between playing in the fantasy and promoting it for actual behavior. Teach media literacy in schools! MERU: This feels like the time that I found out that, I guess, an elementary school teacher falls in love with his student in Cardcaptor Sakura. It feels like that. MERU: It feels like that. I’ve never even seen Cardcaptor Sakura, but… DEE: Once again, only in the manga, so if you watch the anime, you can get around it. MERU: Okay! See, that’s why anime is superior, y’all. DEE: Sometimes. Sometimes. MERU: It hurts you less. It categorically hurts you less. DEE: Hey, Meru: Promised Neverland Season 2. [Chuckles] MERU: [Changing topic] So! Episode… MERU: [Chuckling] What episode are we on? 16? CAITLIN: So, we are currently talking… Yeah, we are currently talking about episode 16. Er, no, we are currently talking about episode 17 because of Yukino and Maho’s conversation, which was a good conversation until she dropped the “28 years old” thing! DEE: Yeah. [Groans] CAITLIN: Like, we’re gonna… [Groans] DEE: Yeah. We can move past it. We’ve spent enough time on it. I don’t want to think about it anymore. CAITLIN: Let’s step back for a second. Let’s step back for a second—we’ll get to the second half of episode 17 because that’s a whole other thing—and talk about Yukino’s parents! MERU: Aw, they’re cute! CAITLIN: That was a nice episode. That was a good, solid 25-minute love story. I cried. MERU: Misty’s voice actress gave a superb performance. DEE: Rachael Lillis is so good and I’m sad she’s not in things anymore, not really. She’s terrific. Um, I— MERU: It was a really good episode— Mm! DEE: No, you go, you go. MERU: Sorry. I was just gonna say it was a really good story about, also, the pain of having an older caretaker and growing up and understanding that they are not going to be in your life forever and that there is [an] invisible clock ticking and it is not ticking in your favor, and wanting to give back the love that they gave. It was just really good. It made me weep. DEE: Yeah, I found the romance parts kind of just rote, like pretty typical “high school show.” CAITLIN: Yeah, I mean… DEE: Truthfully, it ran on Goof Troop time a little bit for me. But the second half with him and his grandpa and him feeling like he needed to materially give back and him having that really good conversation with Yukino’s mom about, like… [for] adult caretakers who truly love you, you loving them back is what they want; seeing you grow up and being happy is the important part. And I thought that was a really nice conversation, because I think you can get into these ideas—and this is cross-cultural—of “Well, I raised you, so you owe me.” And so I really like that the series pushed back against that and was like, “No, no, no, that’s not what these relationships are about.” CAITLIN: And it’s sort of the filial piety thing, too, of: your parents take care of you, and then when you get older, you take care of your parents, and that is as much your duty as it was their duty to take care of you when you were a child. And he wanted to be able to fulfill that sort of obligation and he never got the chance. And there’s a line in this that I think about so much where he talks about how one day he just stopped sitting on his grandfather’s lap. His grandfather stopped holding him. And he doesn’t know when it happened, but it did happen at some point. There’s a Tumblr post that used to go around that was like, “One day your parents put you down and they never picked you up again.” MERU: Yeah. And it was the last time. CAITLIN: And neither of you knew that it was going to be the last time. And I think about that so much. CAITLIN: I think about that because I work with children, and I have a baby niece now. I mean, my twin sister is a mother now. And so, I think about that sort of stuff all the time, the connection between caretaker and child and how you’ll do something for the last time and you don’t know it’s going to be the last time. MERU: Oh, yeah. Yeah, it’s a really… When his grandfather says, “Oh, you can’t sit on Grandpa’s legs. They’re not feeling great,” and you kind of feel like, oh, it’s kind of coming to an end, this point in his life of that childhood closeness. And then, yeah, there just comes a point where that is the literal last time that this is ever gonna happen again. And I mean, we all experience those kinds of things, right? There’s lots of little moments in growing up that you don’t know you’re gonna do this thing for the last time. It’s just real deep, y’all. It’s real deep and real good. DEE: It was very artfully put together. Yeah, I thought they did a really nice job with that, that little backstory. CAITLIN: Mm-hm. And I thought… It was so wonderfully Anno in some points, like the sound design, the use of silence when it’s raining after the wake, and it’s just the sound of the rain. I really, really love that, too. That was really the episode that had me just be like, “Oh, this is what Hideaki Anno sounds like.” The use of environmental sounds over music, and then the music very quietly comes in or maybe it doesn’t, but every single noise has so much weight to it. DEE: Yeah, good thought. CAITLIN: So yeah, it was a good episode. I cried. MERU: It’s real good. CAITLIN: I cried at the end of it. DEE: Yeah. Yeah, it was good, which is good because I’m kind of up and down on Yukino’s dad, so giving a backstory for him was nice. They do that— MERU: They redeemed him this episode because I’m not a fan of her dad at all. DEE: It’s the overprotective dad trope, which I just hate. MERU: He’s a very 1990s father who does not want his daughter to lose her chastity or ever consider another man—ever. CAITLIN: He wants her to stay daddy’s little girl forever. If this were the U.S., he would be, like, cleaning out a gun when Arima came over. MERU: [Through chuckles] Plot twist, next episode: he has a gun! DEE: He found one of the five guns in Japan, just to protect his little girls! CAITLIN: [deadpan] Isn’t that fatherly devotion? Isn’t that so moving and touching? DEE: Yeah. So, yeah, that idea… I mean, well, because it’s that idea of… I’m trying to even put it into words why I hate the overprotective dad trope, but it’s such a convolution of “Girls are infants who can’t be trusted to look after themselves” and “All boys are animals who must be defended against.” And it’s just a lot of gender role bullshit about capital-M Masculinity and Femininity. It just irks me every time. CAITLIN: [Chuckles suddenly] DEE: And fortunately it doesn’t come up a ton, but… What? CAITLIN: “I Love My Daughter” from Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. DEE: “But Not in a Creepy Way.” Caitlin, I wrote that in my notes! DEE: That is in my notes! In my notes is “I love my daughter (but not in a creepy way),” because, yes, that is exactly… Thank you for saying it so I didn’t have to start that. Yes, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend reference. Let’s take that checkbox off this podcast’s to-do list. Excellent. CAITLIN: [Chuckles] Ah, that show’s so good. CAITLIN: Oh, hey, guys. Watch Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. DEE: As long as we’re here. We haven’t mentioned it in a while, so… CAITLIN: [Through laughter] Just while we’re talking about it, if you want a psychological musical drama… DEE: Musical dramedy? Because it’s also quite funny. CAITLIN: Dramedy? Yeah. DEE: Go watch Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. It’s great! [Chuckles] CAITLIN: If you like the psychological elements of Kare Kano… [Chuckles] There we go. I connected it. DEE: And also singing. CAITLIN: And also singing. CAITLIN: So, let’s get back to episode 17. DEE: Yeah, let’s talk about Arima. CAITLIN: Yeah, let’s talk about this! DEE: Let’s talk about the Red Flag Parade, shall we? CAITLIN: So, Arima comes back. At first, it’s a very cute thing where he is just standing there waiting for her to walk by and he’s like, “Hey,” and she’s like, [Gasps] “Oh, my God!” and freaks out. And that’s adorable. DEE: [crosstalk] Yeah, doesn’t recognize him right away, which I didn’t either, so… No, it was great. CAITLIN: [Chuckles] That was pretty cute. And you know what? I give the animators credit. I do think he looks taller; his shoulders look broader. DEE: No, he looks different. I thought noticeably he looked older. CAITLIN: Yeah. He did that weird thing that teenagers do where they disappear for like six weeks and then they come back and they look older. [Chuckles] But then she gets a little freaked out by just how… well, she gets turned on for the first time, is my reading of the situation. DEE: I think that’s definitely part of it, and she’s so happy to see him again, and then she also kind of talks about how she feels sort of self-conscious like, “Oh, he’s grown up and he’s done all this stuff and I haven’t done anything,” so there’s that sense of imbalance there, as well, that she’s sort of struggling with and doesn’t know how to put it into words. CAITLIN: Yes, I was just being a little crude for the fun of it. There’s a lot going on. DEE: There’s layers. CAITLIN: I do think her attraction… DEE: Oh, that’s definitely part of it. CAITLIN: Rush of hormones is a big part of it. DEE: Yes, yes. Yukino horny, Michael! MERU: Oh my God. CAITLIN: But, so, she kind of freaks out and puts a little distance, which is also something that I can relate to. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this: my first impulse when I start a relationship with someone historically has been to run away and never talk to them again. DEE: Oh no! DEE: That makes it difficult to have a relationship! CAITLIN: Yeah. So, I get it. DEE: Yeah, it’s the nerves in your brain. You get nervous about it and then it’s like fight or flight and you’re like, “Well, time to run!” No, I get it, too. CAITLIN: It’s a lot of big feelings! It’s a lot of big feelings! It’s easy to get freaked out by them. DEE: Mm-hm. Yeah. CAITLIN: Well, and his response…! His response…! DEE: Is a Red Flag Parade, I say again. [Chuckles] CAITLIN: He slams her into a wall and yells at her that he does not care about how she feels; he is not letting her break up with him. MERU: It was very uncomfortable. CAITLIN: And her response is not to get the fuck out of there. MERU: She falls even more in love with him! DEE: She’s not even scared. DEE: It doesn’t even startle her. She takes it completely in stride. That scene is tonally all over the place. And I think my notes are just like “What? WHAT?” in bigger letters afterwards. MERU: And she even says, like, “Oh, I’m even more in love with Arima.” And I’m like, “Girl, sweetie, sis!” CAITLIN: No, no, no! DEE: Y’all, y’all, she apologizes for scaring him by running away. MERU: It’s not good. It’s not good. DEE: And for me, because we then immediately go back to Arima being like… then they have a whole episode where they talk about consent—and we’ll get more into that later, I’m sure—and she talking about how gentle he is all the time… To me that’s a narrative flaw. I don’t think it was intentionally a red flag on his character. DEE: So I have to just go like: that was bad storytelling, what happened there. Somebody fell into these weird romance tropes— The author did. “Somebody.” The author. We know who. [Chuckles] MERU: How is it in the manga? Is it similar in the manga? Because… CAITLIN: Yes. Yes. MERU: Oh, God, no. CAITLIN: And honestly, in the manga, that’s kind of the beginning of the end for Arima. DEE: [crosstalk] Where the story sort of falls apart, you mean? Okay. We don’t have to get into the manga right now. We’ve still got anime to watch. MERU: I didn’t like the scene. That’s all. [Chuckles] It’s bad! DEE: Oh, it’s really bad. Well, and it’s one of those things where if this were to happen IRL and I’m not attributing it to bad narrative, I would be like, “You need to get away from him,” because these are… classic signs of an abuser is everything’s great until you do what they don’t want and then they get violent and they yell at you about how they don’t care how you feel. And I’m like this, “Hey, Yukino,” like I said, “Red flag, red flag, red flag! You need to get away from this guy!” CAITLIN: Get the fuck out of there, Yukino. Get out of there. Run as fast as you can. DEE: Listen, he’s a teenager with a lot of trauma. He could sort this out. He could be fine. I’m not saying that Arima’s like an irredeemable piece of shit. But hey, Yukino, these are unhealthy signs and you need to not be involved because this could be really bad for you. CAITLIN: [crosstalk] You are not his psychologist. You are not here to fix him. Call your dad! This would be a good time to get Overprotective Dad going! DEE: Get one of those five guns in Japan. MERU: Well, and it taints the next episode in this really weird light because it’s as if we are encountering two different versions of these characters, because there’s no discussion of what happened. There’s no discussion of… Arima put his hands on her and physically manhandled her into a brick wall and yelled at her. CAITLIN: [crosstalk] And then he talks about how he’ll never do anything she’s uncomfortable with. Which is great! Which is great! DEE: That whole conversation they have— CAITLIN: [crosstalk] It’s a good conversation to have! DEE: Yeah! He’s like, “I want to be with you, but I understand if you don’t want to. We don’t have to. It’s okay.” All terrific. Love that. But yeah, like you said, but it comes right on the heels of this other thing, so I just had to be like, “Okay, I have to pretend that scene didn’t happen because the narrative is acting like it didn’t and that’s the only way I can move forward with these characters,” which is wild! Again, it was bad storytelling. MERU: And it is a shame because episode 18 has a lot of really good things to say about consent for a series that is made in the late ‘90s, where consent wasn’t the conversation we’re having—[that] we even had in the late 2010s—that we have today. But yeah, you have to almost just alternate-universe what happened in episode 17 for it to narratively make sense. Otherwise, the implications are really quite ghoulish and horrific. Ooh! You know? DEE: Well, and especially because after they bone down is when Arima has this post-traumatic reaction and has this thought about his shadow other half, which then immediately does not get explored, which was also jarring. DEE: But you take that in context with the violence of the previous episode, and again I’m like, “Hey, Yukino, I think you need to get out of this.” MERU: Yeah. Or at least involve an adult. Please! DEE: Yeah. Convince him to go to therapy at least. CAITLIN: Yeah, I get it— [deadpan] Oh, no, she is his therapist. [Resumes normal tone] No, and yeah, I get it that he has abandonment issues and that he got freaked out by her in that moment. DEE: Oh, yeah. Listen, his emotions were valid; his reaction was not. CAITLIN: Yeah, it’s totally fair for him to be like, “What the hell’s going on with that?” MERU: Yeah. It’s that “two things exist at once” narrative of… He has a lot of trauma. And realistically, as a young, Japanese, cis male character growing up in the ‘90s… Therapy is really not still readily available in Japan at (A) a cost-effective way, (B) outside of grief and severe mental illness, which can (C) cause you to lose status, whether that’s job standing… whatever you want. I mean, as someone who pursued therapy in Japan, I went out of prefecture, like 80 minutes away from where I lived, to someone’s apartment office to get therapy because I didn’t want to do it inside the prefecture because I didn’t want it to get out. And also, I needed an English-speaking therapist, but that’s not an uncommon thing. So, I get it that he doesn’t have a lot of access, but also your trauma doesn’t mean you get to put your hands on people. So, like, bad Arima. Not good. Thumbs down from me. CAITLIN: It is bad and weird and uncomfortable. And it really does put a nasty… MERU: [crosstalk] Does he get therapy? Does that happen? [Chuckles] DEE: [crosstalk] Oh, Meru, this is a shoujo anime. No. MERU: [crosstalk] I know! DEE: Of course nobody goes to— It’s an anime, period. MERU: [rueful] I know! DEE: Nobody goes to therapy in anime. MERU: I know. DEE: They should! They should! CAITLIN: He needs it! MERU: I live for the day where we get an isekai where it’s like “I Became a Therapist in Another World.” Please! My kingdom for mental health care! [Chuckles] DEE: God, you should write that short story series. That would be really good! MERU: [crosstalk] It would be excellent. DEE: Written right, it could be very healing and sweet, honestly! DEE: Yeah. Yeah, it’s concerning. And [from] the scenes with his family, we know he has a lot of latent anger issues. And I feel like the anime’s probably not gonna have time to explore a lot of this. But it is concerning. Yeah, love did not fix him. Arima still has a lot he needs to work through. Which on the one hand, you know what, props for realism to the story, because, again, I had been saying my concern was that he was fine now that he had somebody who loved him, and most of the time that’s not how it works. So, I guess, props for the story for being like, “No, he still has a lot of stuff he has to work through.” But I’m concerned for him and the people around him right now. CAITLIN: Arima is not and has never been okay. Not once in his life. But then, they go to the beach, and they hang out and they have fun summer vacation times. DEE: [crosstalk] And they smooch a lot. CAITLIN: By the way, Tsubaki is great in these episodes. I really enjoy her. I wrote down her saying, “Writing is a cursed profession.” DEE: Yes, that was excellent. MERU: It’s good! CAITLIN: I figured we would all feel that deep in our bones. DEE: Deep in my bones, yeah. MERU: Down to the marrow. CAITLIN: I love how when— DEE: Ruka living the vampire life was great, too. It’s like, yeah, she just writes all night and then sleeps all day. And I’m like, “Oh, yeah! That was me in high school, too! I’m with you.” I also had the internet, so I was chatting with friends and downloading songs that took 30 minutes. I’m dating myself. DEE: But that’s okay. Yeah, no, the stuff with Yukino’s— CAITLIN: [crosstalk, through laughter] I mean, I did explicitly state my age earlier. DEE: Yes. The stuff with Yukino’s friends is really fun, and I’m glad we still get— We didn’t get a lot of that this stretch. It was mostly her and Arima again, but I like the little bits with them. Tsubasa had like no lines, but she had my favorite clip, which is her as a snake stabbing ice cream out of a shake and eating it and her other friend looking at her like, “What the hell just happened?” MERU: It’s great. It’s great. CAITLIN: I’m pretty sure Tsubasa’s just a cryptid. [Chuckles] DEE: I believe it. MERU: Yeah. Yeah. CAITLIN: And Maho’s reaction was great. I did enjoy Tsubaki, even though she was not being, probably, the kindest friend, being like, “Oh, you just want to talk about your boyfriend? Oh, fuck this. I’m not interested in this. Peace out.” DEE: Oh, yeah, when she was like, “Maybe I should join a club,” and she’s like, “Oh, yeah! What a great idea! We’d love to have you on the volleyball club,” and she’s like, “Well, no, it’s so I can see my boyfriend.” She’s like, “Oh, screw you. Never mind. I’m less interested now.” MERU: Great. There’s a lot of good little tidbits, and I love them all. DEE: And they feel like friends just chatting at a cafe. CAITLIN: Yeah, the dialogue was really strong. MERU: It makes me think of in high school when after school I… So, I was in journalism in high school, and one of the perks was that you got to leave campus, which is 100% why I joined journalism. MERU: I like writing, obviously, but… And I have memories of walking the mall selling ads for journalism, even though we knew we wouldn’t, and having these kinds of conversations. And so it feels very true to life. It feels like actual teenagers talking. So, kudos to that. It’s really, really solid. I felt like, oh, this is just Yukino with all her friends! And it’s really lovely, because she didn’t really have friends before but now she does! DEE: Yeah, and it’s good to see scenes like that and her world expanding, because she herself is worried about “Am I making Arima my whole world?” And I think the narrative could have very easily fallen into that trap of it just being the two of them. So, I do really like her having these authentic, nice moments with her friends where we see that there is more to her world than this boy, who is admittedly a big part of her life, and that’s okay, but he’s not the only thing that is taking up her days. MERU: Oh yeah, yeah. CAITLIN: Yeah. And like I have said before and I will say again, this arc is very much about Yukino’s world expanding, about her learning more about herself, about her developing interests, about experiencing the world without grades and developing her sense of self. Which I think is lovely, because I do think about Yuu Watase back in the day talking about how she doesn’t really like writing romance because it’s just two characters in their own world and that’s not super interesting to her. And I like that Kare Kano recognizes that it doesn’t have to be that—that a good romance, honestly, is more between two people who have lives outside of each other. So, yeah. No, I really enjoyed those scenes. But then… [chuckles] the meat of the episode comes when the two of them are making out and he goes for the boob. MERU: I mean, he cops a feel, just does not hesitate. CAITLIN: He just goes right for it. And she’s like, “Um…!” MERU: [Chuckles] It’s a lot! CAITLIN: And then he says, “Some day, I might want to make love to you.” MERU: Oh my God, I was dead! CAITLIN: I was like, “You fucking dork! Oh my God.” DEE: There are some very dorky teens-in-love lines in that episode that I kind of rolled my eyes at, but at the same time I vibed with as someone who was once a teen in love. I think Yukino’s the one who says something like “Even when our bodies aren’t touching, our souls are touching,” and I was like, “Ah, gross! But also, yeah, I know that feel.” MERU: Yukino straight-up says, like, “Our love is spiritual,” and I was like, “You nerd! You nerd!” [Sighs fondly] DEE: It’s good, though! MERU: It’s absolutely the stuff that I thought about as a high schooler who read a lot of fan fiction on fanfiction.net. DEE: Mm-hm! Preach! CAITLIN: A lot of shoujo manga! [Chuckles] MERU: Look, whether I was talking about my own love or Naruto and Sasuke, it was all spiritual. It’s great. It’s great. MERU: It’s great. CAITLIN: Yeah, that was definitely all of the fanfic I wrote in my head about me and whatever anime boy I was into at the time. DEE: All the self-inserts. MERU: Love it. Love it. CAITLIN: [Chuckles] Cough, cough, Quatre from Gundam Wing, cough, cough. It’s like, “Oh, no, no, no. It’s not driven by lust and desire.” MERU: It’s spiritual. CAITLIN: “It’s spiritual.” MERU: It’s love of the mind and the soul. MERU: It’s great. I like that she says that and then it starts raining, and that’s like the table-setting for what happens. I will say, the actual scene is done in a montage that reminded me of the episode of Fresh Prince where Carlton also gets a montage the first time he has sex. And I was just like, “This is a weird parallel.” DEE: That’s an amazing parallel, is what it is. MERU: I don’t know what to think about it, but I was like, “Oh. Okay, it’s just some glowy lights and…” DEE: I was briefly confused because it shows the two of them as children running in a field and I was like, “What’s happening?” CAITLIN: That’s a little weird. DEE: And then we flash to them in bed naked, and I’m like, “Oh, okay, they banged. Got you.” [Chuckles] CAITLIN: You do hear her moan. MERU: You really do and it’s very… it’s a lot. MERU: It came out of nowhere, and I had to go back because I was like, “Did my computer make a weird noise just now?” And I was like, “Oh, no, that wasn’t my computer!” [Chuckles] DEE: I always find it… I feel like this happens a lot in shoujo. It feels like characters go from relatively chaste kissing to sex, and there’s very little of the… CAITLIN: [crosstalk] Yeah! There’s not a lot of… DEE: Because usually… I mean, just speaking from experience with my friend group, usually there’s a lot of making out before you get to the sex part. It’s a step-by-step process. It feels like in shoujo manga they skip all the bases and go straight to the home run. MERU: I think that’s quite true, though, to… And I can only speak as a high school teacher in the countryside, but that’s actually kinda true to how it is for a lot of Japanese kids. DEE: [crosstalk] Really? MERU: There’s no sex ed, so we should preface… DEE: Oh, sure. MERU: There’s no sex ed, so a lot of them, the way that they’re learning is they’re doing the one thing that they know, which is sex. You can access sex now, freely through a variety of sites. I don’t know why I avoided saying the word “porn.” MERU: But I think a lot of them are accessing… They see this and this is the act; this is what it is. So, you might make out, but [smacks hands together] you’re just gonna… I mean, you’re just gonna swing it out the park and just wham-bam-shabam. CAITLIN: [crosstalk] Kids, you could have a much better time if there are steps in between. MERU: I mean, yeah. CAITLIN: Just in general. MERU: But yeah, I think it’s just kind of going off of what you know the big ta-da is. [Chuckles] I’m using that phrase a little too hard. CAITLIN: I love “big ta-da”! DEE: “The big ta-da” is perfect! MERU: It’s great. DEE: That’s terrific. CAITLIN: No, that’s great. [Chuckles] DEE: So what you’re saying is we need more creative erotica in manga and light novels. CAITLIN: [I] don’t disagree with that. DEE: We also need sex ed. Obviously we need more sex ed. That one’s a given. But also more creative erotica. MERU: Maybe that one over the… Yeah, definitely creative erotica, definitely some sex ed because… I mean, you know, when you’re only taught one thing exists, that’s just the thing, of course, everyone’s gonna jump to. DEE: That’s what you’ll default to, sure. MERU: You’re missing out on, like, the tapestry of everything between. CAITLIN: And it’s interesting because… You know what pink palaces are, right? CAITLIN: You can just… If you’re a guy walking around in, like, a bar area (this is something that has literally happened to my friends), there’s a decent chance someone will walk up to you and ask if you want to buy a blowjob. MERU: [Gasps] People buy those? [Chuckles] DEE: Oh, yes, Meru. People buy those. MERU: Oh, no! I didn’t know! CAITLIN: And it’s not illegal. It’s not illegal because it’s not considered prostitution unless there’s penetration. MERU: [whispering in wonder] Oh. DEE: Interesting. I’m learning about the laws. Is this… I mean… Huh. Okay. CAITLIN: Sorry! This took a weird turn! DEE: Well, most high schoolers probably aren’t walking around red-light districts at night, so… CAITLIN: No, that’s true. MERU: Right, I was gonna say, their sexual exposure… And I mean, I assume it’s the same… At least in Japan, their sexual exposure would have been through, like, the gravure idol, the photo book or something. It would have been porn. So, yeah. Which, I guess… That’s not that unusual globally. A lot of people [obscured by crosstalk]. DEE: I mean, there’s definitely places in the U.S. where sex ed is basically nonexistent. I mean, I fortunately didn’t live in one, but I am aware that they exist! So… MERU: I mean, as soon as someone from Texas… Need I say more? DEE: Well, yeah. CAITLIN: Yeah. No, I grew up in California. I got the whole comprehensive thing, but… Hey, guys, sex ed is important! MERU: It’s very important. DEE: It super is. Yes. I sure hoped Arima and Yukino used protection. MERU: They probably did not! I’m gonna assume, because realistically in Japan you have to go to very specific places to get protection. But we hope. CAITLIN: You can go to Condomania in Harajuku. MERU: Yeah. I was gonna say, you can’t just go to, like, your local Japanese CVS. You gotta, like… DEE: They don’t just give those at convenience… MERU: No… Yeah, yeah. DEE: [crosstalk] I mean, it’s called a convenience store. One would assume. MERU: You can’t find them in the convenience store, but you go to the drugstore. But you can’t just go to, like, 7/11 and be like, “One condom desu.” You don’t… Nope. DEE: No, no, Meru. Obviously, you wouldn’t say it like that. You would say, “One condom, kudasai!” Come on! MERU: [deadpan] Oh, I’m sorry. Sorry! DEE: You have to be polite, obviously! MERU: Lest I forget my manners… Minna-san is DTF. So sorry. MERU: Yeah, we hope that they did. CAITLIN: Yeah, we can only hope. MERU: [alarmed] Did she hear him throw up after his trauma kicked in? [Obscured by crosstalk] DEE: [crosstalk] It’s not addressed, is it? We didn’t address that at all. MERU: [crosstalk] No. DEE: She gets up out of bed, and then he has the flashback because she’s not in bed with him at the time. So I’m not sure… MERU: Yeah, because she’s excited. She’s like, “Ooh, food!” DEE: That’s right. Well, I get that. CAITLIN: Well, yeah. No, that makes sense. DEE: Hey, she just burned a lot of calories, so… MERU: And that goes into episode 19, which I don’t have anything to say about other than “They broke the budget.” DEE: It was distractingly bad, the animation situation in that one. And I’m not a person where animation is necessarily a deal breaker. It can look a little ugly or a little wonky, and I’m like, “It’s fine. As long as the story is good, I can push past it. Whatever.” That was so rough that I was having trouble paying attention to what was happening, because I kept looking at the sketchy designs and being like, “What is going on? Oh, now this class rep has an actual photographic face”—which was hilarious, mind you. [Chuckles] But they’ve become large and are fighting through the school like kaiju. Again, very funny, but a surreal twist that the story hasn’t… I mean, I guess it’s kind of had up to this point, but it was hard to pay attention because of the sketchy designs. CAITLIN: I think that was not supposed to be literal. DEE: No, I know, I know. CAITLIN: There’s one more joke I need to make about episode 18. Disclaimer: you never know what is going to trigger PTSD. Obviously, what Arima was going through was really, really difficult. However, the fact that he had sex and it awakened this negative part of him made me go, “Oh, like Angelus in Buffy.” DEE: [Chuckles] I actually did write down, “And the moral, kids, is never have sex.” It was such an abrupt turn from this very sweet moment between these two kids who’ve been falling in love to this really intense flashback that Arima has. It’s very violent. And kudos to the anime staff: they don’t necessarily show anything. But it’s visceral via sound and monologue. And yeah, it was so jarring that I was like, “Shit!” And then I thought, “Oh, okay, so this is telling the kids at home that they shouldn’t have sex. Got you.” MERU: And it did feel a bit like that scene from Mean Girls where the coach is like, “If you have sex you will die.” [Chuckles] And I was just like, I don’t know what to do with this. His trauma is real, but the table-setting on this, that was not it. Yukino gets up and is like, “Ooh, snacks!” and then it goes to him, and you’re like, “Oh, not snacks!” CAITLIN: And I do think what that shows is the emotional disconnect that still exists between them. MERU and DEE: Yeah. DEE: Yeah, I think that’s fair. Because Yukino— DEE: Go ahead, go ahead. CAITLIN: That while Yukino is opening up, Arima is still very closed off. MERU: Very much so. DEE: Yes, yes. And to himself. CAITLIN: Yes. He is not able to recognize before going in that this is a potential trigger for him, and it goes real bad! MERU: It’s quite realistic because sometimes you don’t know what’s going to trigger you. I mean, as someone who lives with PTSD, for sure, there are times where I’m having a perfectly fine day and something very innocuous can be the thing that turns a nice day bad. So, that felt quite realistic. But I suppose it also does signal like, yeah, he’s got a lot more to do. He’s got a lot of unpacking left to do. DEE: Yeah. Well, and Yukino… She is fortunate enough to have a very happy family that has drawn her friend group to her. And so, she has what I would describe as your average… She’s not without problems, but they’re all low-key just growing… MERU: They’re quite mundane. DEE: It’s growing up: figuring out who you are and what you want to be and what your relationships with other people are. And that’s not to say that those aren’t real and valid, but, you know, you’re gonna have sex with the boy you love and you’re gonna be like, “Oh, that was wonderful! I’m hungry.” She’s not going to have… Their backgrounds are so different that what happens after is naturally going to be very different. That really… CAITLIN: [crosstalk] Right. She doesn’t have triggers. DEE: No. She wouldn’t, so… CAITLIN: Yeah, no. Sorry, I wanted to get a little bit, slightly more serious discussion of that in. DEE: No, no, that was good, that was good. CAITLIN: Yeah. So, then, yes, episode 19, which is the first episode of the arc that will carry us all the way through to the end of the series. So, I honestly… I kind of love the popsicle sticks. I thought that they were a lot of fun. I thought they were a creative way to do it. And they were visually more interesting than other episodes we’ve had that were basically slideshows like, I think, episode 6, the one where they were in the school. MERU: I’ll give you that. DEE: Oh, visually more interesting, definitely, but because it’s such a turn into abstract surrealism, it doesn’t gel with what’s come before it, so it feels like we’re suddenly watching a different show. And what happened was the production collapsed, is my understanding. This was not an intentional artistic choice. So, if they had built some kind of in-story reason for the animation to look like this, I think I could have rolled with it, but I just spent the whole time going, “Oh, God, things are going real bad for the animators. Oh, boy. Ah, geez. Ah, beans.” MERU: And it is that dissonance that really changes things because you come off of that really heavy moment, and all of a sudden it’s very slapsticky, there’s a new transfer student… It’s fun times in high school. Asaba’s gonna have a sexy dinner show! [Chuckles] CAITLIN: So, I should have mentioned this before, but, yay, getting ready for the holidays: this is the stretch where things start to go really sour between Anno and Tsuda—Masami Tsuda, the creator. This is the episode where Anno theoretically leaves. That’s a little bit more contentious. I’ll talk about this probably next episode since I haven’t done the full research. Episode 17, I think, is the first episode where Anno’s name is off the credits. I think there was a recent episode where he said, “No, I didn’t leave permanently. I was going to leave and then everyone was like, ‘No, no, no, come back. We’re gonna ride this out together.’” But yeah, Tsuda was really angry. I feel a little bit like the kaiju battle was a big fuck-you to her, because that is something that is bizarre and wild and definitely would not be in the manga. The guy whose photographed face… who just shows up in the classroom is… I can’t remember his name. He was a staff member. He was a Gainax guy. DEE: I assumed he was someone on staff, yeah. DEE: I found that hysterical, but again, it was just such a weird swerve with the sketchy art style from everything that had come before that it was hard to gel with it and be like, “I’m watching the same show.” It felt like I was suddenly watching a very strange arthouse project! [Chuckles] CAITLIN: Yeah. No, it is bizarre. It is a very, very strange shift. [Chuckles] And I do kind of wonder if it was a deliberate choice. DEE: We— Guys, sorry— CAITLIN: [crosstalk] But even divorced from the last episode, it is a fun episode. Just the tonal shift does make it kind of strange. DEE: And the art shift, yeah. Hey, guys, I meant to warn us earlier: we’re past the hour here, so we probably need to be wrapping up. Peter, you can cut me saying that. But we’ve covered the majority of stuff and we can talk a little bit more about the school arc next time when we actually get into it. CAITLIN: Yeah. Just before we go, real quick: any predictions? MERU: [Chuckles] They’re gonna have sex again, and it’s gonna break the budget further. MERU: No, I guess a serious prediction is that, because we’re entering the endgame, I’m imagining we’re gonna get some sort of flash-forward: they’re gonna be married. That’s kind of where it seems like… It seems like this is a forever couple. DEE: I mean, I do agree with that. My unserious prediction is the budget collapses so much that we have an episode that is sock puppets. DEE: And if that happens, you know what, I will have looped back around to no longer being angry about the production and I will then be deliriously happy about it. DEE: My serious prediction is… I mean, if this was an original anime or I knew they were adapting the entirety of the manga, I would assume that we would deal with Arima’s stuff, but it sounds like that’s not going to be the case. So, my hope/prediction is that Yukino gets out of this arc kind of figuring out what she wants to do, like they have this whole school festival thing and she gets a better feel for who she is and what she wants to be going forward. And she and Arima can renew their devotion to each other, but it’s also that sense of “We are two individuals walking this path together.” So, that’s my hope/prediction for her. CAITLIN: All right. Well, thank you for listening to Chatty AF. I hope you enjoyed our discussion. I feel like we got some good stuff in there this time. If you are listening to this podcast and you have not found our website, it is animefeminist.com. We’re also on Twitter at twitter.com/animefeminist. Tumblr is at animefeminist. Once again, pretty easy to find us. And if you really enjoyed this discussion and you want to support our work, you can donate to our Patreon. $5 a month gets you entry into our Discord, and [for] $3 a month you can make suggestions for our podcast episodes. And we would just really appreciate the support! Even $1 a month goes a long way. So, thanks for listening, AniFam. Next episode we will be finishing out the series. And remember to use protection.

This Week in Podcasts is a weekly roundup of mini-reviews of all of the podcasts I’ve listened to in a week. If you see any podcasts that you feel are missing from my list, there’s a good chance I haven’t listened to the show yet! You can see my current list of podcast subscriptions here. Feel free to give me recommendations–as well as any feedback or discussion!–in the comments below or on twitter. This week, Wooden Overcoats returned for its third season and the Love and Luck season 2 Kickstarter reached its goal. The hashtag #AudioOnIMDB, started by The Bright Sessions‘s Briggon Snow, gained steam as podcast fans and creators asked IMDB.com for a podcast category. I also wrote up a list of podcasts I’ve used for inspiration as a DM/GM/Keeper in my myriad tabletop RPGs. Don’t forget to sign up for the Podcast Problems newsletter for weekly recommendations, news, musings, and more! “Season 3 Episode 1: The Loneliness of Rudyard Funn” Wooden Overcoats has returned for its third season with a surprisingly somber, introspective episode. You can read my full review of the episode here. At the Table “Losing My Religion by Hannah C. Langley” This week’s episodes of At the Table, the play-reading podcast series, featured a timely play by USC MFA candidate Hannah C. Langley about two political opposites competing over Twitter. I’ve written about At the Table before, and these episodes are some of the best the podcast has done yet. The performances are genuine, bringing what might otherwise sound like hyperbolic characters into a grounded reality. The sound design is immersive as always, adding just the right amount of scene-setting without being overwhelming. The play is politically uncomfortable, in the same way that shows like Conversations with People Who Hate Me are uncomfortable: in a way that feels important. This Week’s Ratings - The Sporkful, “No Murder. Yes Porkchops. Says Comic Negin Farsad”: B - The Cryptid Keeper, “Episode 47-J’ba Fofi”: C+ - Hello from the Magic Tavern, “Season 2, Ep 48 – Eunuch Tutor”: C+ - Hannah and Matt Know It All, “Hannah and Matt Crush on You”: B - My Brother, My Brother and Me, “MBMBaM 394: Face 2 Face: I Fritos Hard”: C - The Splendid Table, “All About Fondue”: B- - Radiolab, “The Curious Case of the Russian Flash Mob at the West Palm Beach Cheesecake Factory”: B - Love and Luck, “Episode 25 – Victor’s Dad”: B - Pop Culture Happy Hour, “Queer Eye”: C+ - Code Switch, “Throw Some Respeck on My Name”: B - At the Table, “Ep. 22 – Losing My Religion by Hannah Langley (Part 1)” and “Ep. 23 – Losing My Religion by Hannah Langley (Part 2)”: B+ - Unmapped, “#9 – She Just F****ing Moved to India”: B- - Spirits, “Episode 65: Inanna”: B - The Phenomenon, “The Shards and the Tall Ones”: C - Making Obama, “Obama 3: You Don’t Say No to Barack”: B - Wooden Overcoats, “Season 3 Episode 1: The Loneliness of Rudyard Funn”: B+ - Wonderful!, “Ep. 23: Eatin’ all the Takis”: B- - The Adventure Zone, “Setup – The Adventure Zone: Dust”: B- - Pop Culture Happy Hour, “Annihilation and What’s Making Us Happy”: B - The Splendid Table, “651: Eating in the Instagram Era”: C+ - Bite, “50 – The Year’s Best Movies are Secretly About Food”: B - The Allusionist, “73. Supername!”: B

Imagine living on a secluded snowy mountain in the middle of nowhere. You’ve been living with your husband, a monster, for 12 years – only to discover that there’s a new one lurking in the woods. How are you going to survive and escape both of them? [Content Warning: SA, Abuse] Christina Henry’s Near the Bone explores the horrors that the main character – Mattie – has to endure in an abusive relationship with her husband, William. While the premise does make it seem like the book mainly explores the strange supernatural-like entity living on the mountain, it actually focuses more on the abuse that Mattie endures which I don’t mind, the blurb is just a bit misleading. Mattie and William both have been residing on a mountain, almost completely secluded from the outside world. After years of being trapped and not having seen a single soul, it’s clear that William is not who claims to be and has tried to instill the idea that Mattie’s life revolves entirely around him. Her discovery of a horrifying yet intelligent creature called the “cryptid” alarms her and shows that there’s something else she should be afraid of, which also becomes the catalyst of her realisation that she could try to escape. Christina Henry has a good and effective way of describing events in detail without being gratuitous – she gives a sense that something is constantly lurking in the shadows or looming over, whether it’s the strange creature or William himself. The author also successfully builds the tension throughout the novel while still sustaining the mystery regarding the creature’s motivations and highlighting the impact of William’s abuse. We see the character development that Mattie undergoes, and her mentail turmoil she acknowledges. Even though logically she knows that whatever William says and does is to purely control her life and narrative, she still finds difficulty in believing in herself at times, understandably so. One of the more interesting aspects of the novel lies in the dynamics between the creature and Mattie. At first, it’s clear that the creature is capable of doing harm with its array of “presents” it’s been collecting – but its reluctance to attack makes me think that it understands Mattie’s situation to an extent. It further makes me question whether the creature is a reflection of Mattie herself, and whether the creature’s behavior might represent Mattie’s inner turmoil and cognitive dissonance. The cryptid’s motivations are not properly revealed even in the end – I suppose that it does live up to its name, and I personally don’t find that it diminishes the impact of the plot. A gripe I do have with the novel is that William’s character seems a bit one-dimensional. He’s very predictable and does not have much going on besides being the big bad villain – which is not to say that the portrayal of his character isn’t accurate or effective, but abusive relationships always have a strong aspect of psychological manipulation through “subtle” means as well more “obvious” ones. For example, at one point it’s shown that William is actually a very good and charming liar – however, this is not explored further in the book, and William only shows his crass self to anyone who crosses his path. With all the tension built and the story coming to an end, one might expect a more “satisfactory” ending instead of an abrupt one – but I do appreciate it. I actually think it’s an effective way to end the novel, it leaves room for more interpretation (and perhaps a sequel?) but it displays the beginning of Mattie Samantha regaining control in her life. Overall, I would recommend this to people who love suspense. The fantasy or magic realism element is not that prominent, I’d say this is more so a thriller with horror elements, or it at least veers between the two genres. Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

How many Lost World connections can we make in this episode about turn-of-the-century ghost writers searching for extinct animals in South America? Dr Edward Guimont is at hand to tell the tale, bringing essential palaeontological and colonial What if 'fairies' are a memory of a squat race of mysterious pre-humans who lived in Europe before modern humans arrived? Justin Mullis brings a LOT to the cabin in this episode. We cover: the origins of euhemerism and 'explanations' for Norse The 1961 Hill abduction is usually considered the 'ground zero' of the entire 'genre' of UFO abductions. It's been pored over by UFO believers and skeptics for decades; been the stuff of TV movies and comic strips. In short, it's been done to d Lisa drops into the cabin with a Halloween tale ... the story of Pearl Curran, a woman who channelled a spirit calling herself 'Patience Worth.' As Patience, Pearl wrote books that gave her a new life among the literati, and eventually adopted Bob Fischer, creator of 'Haunted Generation,' joins us for a wide-ranging chat about Hauntology, and how ‘Haunted Generation’ feelings of an uncanny childhood differ around the world. We cover Arthur C Clarke’s Mysterious World and the how the For a ramble through the life of a person who made old, wyrd England the focus of his occult writings and poetry, Cian invites Justin Hopper to the cabin. We cover the life and times of Victor Neuburg, the now-obscure creator behind the Vine Pr Jeb Card joins us to discuss the supposed witchcraft connections to the murder of Charles Walton on Valentines Day, 1945. Important players include (returning podcast fave) Margaret Murray, Egyptologist and writer of 'The Witch Cult In Western Cian is joined by YouTuber 'Truth Is Scarier Than Fiction' to discuss the making of the Cryptid Iceberg videos and more! Buy Me A Coffee, or I'll wood knock-you out! Truth Is Scarier Than Fiction Could this be ... the Final Fantasy of Fawcett? In this last episode of Fawcettmania, Cian sits by a stream and flicks the pages of 'Brazil That Never Was' by A.J. Lees, as well as articles by arch Fawcett-dismisser John Hemming. In an episode So there's a lot of Lost World in our Fawcett this episode, but it's not my fault that the two won't stay a Stegosaurus length apart! In this episode, our boy Percy gets down on the British Empire following the First World War, is quite polite Lauren returns to the cabin to discuss all things H.R. Haggard, especially his deep obsession with ancient Egypt. -Haggard in 'Who's Who in Egyptology' -his own visits to Egypt -his writing of 'Cleopatra' -his mania for collecting Egy It's 'Not Your Father's Fawcett!' The journey continues with our dive into the first part of EXPLORATION FAWCETT, the 1953 book of Colonel Percy Fawcett's own notes and journals, as tidied up, illustrated and edited by his son Brian Fawcett. Fe In which we're asked to audition for Metallica, endorse the George Foreman grill, and wrestle over 365 days in a year. We also cover: -Hogan's years at WCW -the infamous Monday Night Wars between WWF and WCW -the meta writing of Vince Russo Dr Eoghan Aherne visits the cabin to talk about the early medieval period, and some things we might believe about it that might not be true! Topics include: -modern myths about the medieval period -were medieval people particularly credulous? Arthur Conan Doyle and Professor Challenger make a welcome return to the show, as we turn once again to the worlds of Edwardian fantastic Imperial fiction, and the history of still-living dinosaurs in literature. Dr Richard Fallon joins us to t Cian welcomes Dr Edward Guimont back to the cabin for a chat about two seminal 1951 flying saucer movies. There'll be saucers skipping across water (whyever would you do that?), McCarthyism, and pulp-era sci-fi authors acting like jerks. Topics Cian returns to the cabin to tackle a subject that he should have tackled long ago: the life and mysterious disappearance of Percy Harrison Fawcett. First part (fingers crossed) of a series attempting to contrast the various books about Fawcett Tyler Greenfield visits the cabin to chat about sightings of supposed living extinct creatures. We discuss early 20th century origins of living Megalodon stories, the French Pterodactyl trapped in rock, the bizarre 'Triassic Kraken,' and how th Ancient chalk figures, Arctic exploration, pendulums, and emotions 'recorded' onto the landscape: TC Lethbridge dabbled in them all, and remains an important figure in mid-20th century alternative thinking. Lisa from the Beer Ladies Podcast joi Cian is joined at the cabin by David & Mercedas from the Worker’s Cauldron to talk about a variety of paranormal topics and their cultural/political influences. Subjects include: -evolution of Wicca -social context and the paranormal Sharon Hill joins us to speak about Spooky Geology and Ley Lines! We discuss the origins of the lines before they became associated with mystical ideas, leys as a way to connect with landscape, how they’re thought of in the paranormal community The history of beliefs regarding lost cities and civilizations beneath the Earth's surface is as vast and winding as the caverns of Agartha itself. In this episode we welcome Edward Guimont back to the cabin for a chat about some of the most in Pack your harmonica and join an expedition into the murky world of 1970s low-budget docudrama-making as we take a look at Bigfoot hunter Robert Morgan's 1974 'American Yeti' Expedition into the Pacific Northwest, and the recobbled film 'Bigfoot Cian and Victoria discuss the definitive Dracula of their childhood, Francis Ford Coppola's 1992 'Bram Stoker's Dracula!,' which is a mouthful. Buy Me A Coffee because I never drink wine! Recorded at the tail (aha!) end of an uncharacteristic Irish heatwave, and following a spot of solo camping that accidentally strayed into mystery big cat territory, Cian marshalls some thoughts on the subject of ABCs or Alien Big Cats. With so

Throughout the many years humans have been on this Earth, we've always been prone to one problem (among many): mass hysterias. Mass hysterias are sociological and psychological phenomena that transmit collective illusions of threats (whether real or... Throughout the many years humans have been on this Earth, we've always been prone to one problem (among many): mass hysterias. Mass hysterias are sociological and psychological phenomena that transmit collective illusions of threats (whether real or imaginary) through a population and society as a result of rumors and fear. Basically--a shared bout of insanity, usually centered around one thing. In this episode Carrie takes us through 4 of the most confounding historical hysteria cases around the world, including: ...The 1518 Dancing Plague, where 400+ townsfolk danced, danced, danced until they died (?) ...The Spring-Heeled Jack Paranoia, when 1800s London was haunted by a supernatural attacker ...The Mad Gasser of Mattoon Panic, a conspiracy from the 1940s where residents of the town of Mattoon IL were convinced they were being anesthetized by a phantom trickster ...And the 2016 Clown Sightings Craze, when people around America and the globe started seeing creepy clowns everywhere they looked! What causes a mass hysteria? Why and how do they spread even in such bizarre cases as these? And what madness will be next? Dive into these hysterias throughout history to find out! Connect with us on social media: Thank you to our sponsors: BetterHelp - Special offer for Ain’t it Scary? listeners: Get 10% off your first month at www.betterhelp.com/aintitscary Audible - Get a FREE audiobook and 30-Day Free Trial at www.audibletrial.com/aintitscary BarkBox - Enjoy a FREE month of BarkBox on us when you sign up for a 6 or 12-month BarkBox subscription! Visit www.barkbox.com/aintitscary for more details Hunt a Killer - Receive 20% off your first Hunt a Killer subscription box at www.huntakiller.com with the code SCARYSQUAD at checkout! Sean, today we’re going to be discussing mass hysterias throughout the years and the world. So, what’s mass hysteria? Well, most people can kind of figure out what it means - it’s basically a sociological and psychological phenomenon that transmits collective illusions of threats, whether real or imaginary, through a population and society as a result of rumors and fear. Mass hysteria is also known as mass psychogenic illness, collective hysteria, group hysteria, or collective obsessional behavior. Now, if asked to name a case of mass hysteria, the average person would probably name the most well-known one: the Salem Witch Trials. In 1692 a group of adolescent girls began to have fits that were attributed to the influence of the Devil in the town of Salem, Massachusetts, and the hysteria that resulted led to the execution deaths of 20 townspeople accused of practicing witchcraft. I’m not going to be diving deeper into this one today, because it’s one of my most favorite topics and deserves an episode or two all its own. But I WILL be going into other hysterias that affected large groups of people, usually bound together by location - whether that’s a town, school, nunnery, whatever. What I found most fascinating about mass hysterias is how they spread, even when the hysteria is about the most ridiculous thing in the world, or the actions caused by the hysteria seem completely silly. But those enveloped by hysteria take what they’re going through DEADLY seriously. So it makes me wonder...what causes mass hysteria outbreaks? How does the hysteria spread? And how, if it ever does, does the hysteria end? Let’s start waaay back in history with the dancing plague of 1518. The dancing plague was a case of dancing mania that occurred in Strasbourg, Alsace - now in modern-day France - in July 1518. This sounds totally absurd and, for those seeing it, it probably was. It began with a woman, referred to as Frau Troffea, that started to dance fervently in a street in Strasbourg. She kept dancing, continuously, for 4 to 6 days. By the end of the week, 34 others had joined in her frenzied dancing vigil, and within a month the crowd of dancers had grown to 400. So just imagine several hundred people in the street, doing a mad jig and leaping and skipping. For a month straight. At the height of the “dancing epidemic” some sources claim that 15 town residents a day were dying from strokes, heart attacks, and total exhaustion. Much like listening to a song that’s stuck in your head to try and get it out, the town hired musicians and built a stage to play music for the dancing, so I guess they would dance themselves out? Physicians were hypothesizing that these townspeople just had “hot blood” and simply had to dance it away. Unfortunately, this seemed to encourage more people to join in the craze, and it only began to subside in early September. This might sound like the peak of absurd historical folklore, but it’s clear from a variety of historical documents - including surviving physician’s notes, church sermons, chronicles, and Strasbourg city council notes - that this really did happen, and isn’t simply a strange little legend. Whether there were fatalities is up for debate, as some of the previously stated sources don’t make a note of the deaths. Later accounts mention the deaths, but whether this is an embellishment or not is also up for debate. The Dancing Plague has clearly inspired some pop culture, most obviously to me in “Hocus Pocus” and “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”. When Winifred goes to the Salem Halloween Party and condemns the revelers to “dance, dance, dance until you die!”, it’s basically exactly what is purported to have happened in Strasbourg. And in Buffy’s musical episode, “Once More with Feeling”, a singing and dancing demon comes to town, forcing more and more Sunnydale citizens to sing and dance until they eventually burst into flames. But WHY did the dancing hysteria happen? There are a few theories. One is ergot poisoning, which is also commonly seen in the story of the Salem Witch Trial. Ergot fungi commonly grows on grains, such as rye, that are used for baking bread. In this fungi are psychoactive chemicals, called Ergotamine, which are structurally related to LSD and is the original substance LSD was synthesized from. Those under the influence of food poisoning due to ergot would basically be on a massive trip. This theory is disputed by John Waller in a 2009 issue of The Lancet, a medical journal. Waller states that "this theory does not seem tenable, since it is unlikely that those poisoned by ergot could have danced for days at a time. Nor would so many people have reacted to its psychotropic chemicals in the same way. The ergotism theory also fails to explain why virtually every outbreak occurred somewhere along the Rhine and Moselle rivers, areas linked by water but with quite different climates and crops.” He brings up multiple other dancing plagues throughout early history, like in Germany in 1021, 1247, and 1374, and smaller-scale dancing manias gripping individuals or entire families from Switzerland to the Holy Roman Empire during the 15 and 1600s. Waller, and others, suggest that perhaps the plague of 1518 - and maybe the other dancing plagues - were caused by intense stress and/or religious fears. Mass psychogenic illness tends to spread rapidly in an epidemic pattern when many individuals in an area are under elevated psychological stress. The people of Alsace were certainly suffering through a particularly difficult time, with a series of terrible harvests, the highest grain prices for over a generation, the spread of syphilis, and recurrences of leprosy and plague. But in that case why did the people dance and not wail, sob, fight, etc? Perhaps the belief systems in these regions channelled the despair into the dance obsession. There are several accounts from the mid to late 1500s of cults of entranced dancing in towns close to the Black Forest and where the Rhine enters the North Sea in Germany. These cults would deliberately enter a trance and then dance, accompanied by musicians, towards shrines dedicated to the saints most widely associated with the dancing “curse”: St Vitus and St John. This translated a psychological epidemic into, basically, an ecstatic religious ritual, called a chorea. The choreas were named after those saints, too - St Vitus’ dance and St John’s dance. Professor Gregor Horst noted in the 17th century that: “Several women who annually visit the chapel of St. Vitus in Drefelhausen...dance madly all day and all night until they collapse in ecstasy. In this way they come to themselves again and feel little or nothing until the next May, when they are again...forced around St. Vitus' Day to betake themselves to that place...[o]ne of these women is said to have danced every year for the past twenty years, another for a full thirty-two.” It seems closely linked with religion, in these cases. Tarantism, in which victims were said to have been poisoned by a tarantula or scorpion, was an issue in Italy, where it was claimed that dancing to particular music would separate the venom from the blood. This inspired the advent of the tarentella, various folk dances characterized by a fast upbeat tempo, usually accompanied by tambourines, and that you may recognize as the inspiration for the Mamushka danced by Gomez and Fester in The Addams Family movie. Obviously, mad dancing is not enough to remove venom from blood, but there were plenty of strange cures during these times, so it’s not a stretch to believe that people might believe frenzied dancing would be enough to alleviate psychological stress, appease religious figures, or cure poisoning. Perhaps this is the closest we can get to understanding why they did it back then - and why this kind of hysteria has mostly faded away as we’ve understood medicine more and more. But there are all different kinds of hysterias. So lets move on to 1837, when the hysteria around Spring-Heeled Jack began. This instance probably finds its closest modern companion in the Mothman sightings of Point Pleasant, West Virginia in the late 60s. Stories of mysterious phantom figures stalking the streets of London were not uncommon in the early 19th century, which is interesting since this belief wouldn’t have even been a response to Jack the Ripper fears, as the killer only showed up in 1888. The Hammersmith Ghost, however, first appeared in 1803 and 04. At this time many people claimed to have seen or even been attacked by a ghost in the area of Hammersmith in London. Locals believed this spirit to be that of a suicide victim. The fear of the ghost hit such a fever pitch that a man named Thomas Millwood was killed in the pursuit of the phantom, as Millwood was wearing the clothing of his trade - an all-white linen bricklayer’s outfit - and was mistaken for the specter by an armed citizen named Francis Smith, and shot. Millwood was neither a ghost nor a Scooby Doo villain, unfortunately, and his death prompted Smith to be tried for murder and initially sentenced to hanging and dissection, later commuted to a year’s hard labor. It’s in this setting that Spring Heeled Jack first arrives in October 1837. A girl named Mary Stevens was walking from seeing her parents in Battersea to Lavender Hill, a shopping and residential street in south London, where she worked as a servant. As she made her way through Clapham Common, a large park, a strange figure leapt at her from a dark alley. He gripped her tightly in his arms and began to kiss her face and rip her clothes and touch her skins with his “claws”, which Mary said were as “cold and clammy as those of a corpse.” Mary screamed and the attacker quickly fled, and was not found by nearby residents summoned by Mary’s scream. The next day, this leaping figure popped up again near Mary Stevens’ home, jumping in front of a passing carriage and causing the coachman to lose control of his vehicle, crash, and become severely injured. Several witnesses claimed that the figure escaped by jumping over a nearby wall, which was about 9 feet high, while cackling with high-pitched laughter. FYI, the current WORLD RECORD for the high jump is 2.45 meters, or about 8 feet, achieved in the Olympics by Javier Sotomayor in 1993 by running up to and hurling himself over a horizontal bar. So this guy would’ve had to clear a foot higher than the current world record. Seems improbable...unless he’s some sort of weird cryptid or supernaturally gifted. After the second incident, the character was given the name Spring-Heeled Jack” by the public, because Londoners love giving their mysterious creeps the name Jack. A few months later, in January 1838, Lord Mayor of London Sir John Cowan announced in a public session at the Mansion House that he had received an anonymous complaint a few days earlier by a “resident of Peckham”. The letter stated that: “It appears that some individuals (of, as the writer believes, the highest ranks of life) have laid a wager with a mischievous and foolhardy companion, that he durst not take upon himself the task of visiting many of the villages near London in three different disguises—a ghost, a bear, and a devil; and moreover, that he will not enter a gentleman's gardens for the purpose of alarming the inmates of the house. The wager has, however, been accepted, and the unmanly villain has succeeded in depriving seven ladies of their senses, two of whom are not likely to recover, but to become burdens to their families. At one house the man rang the bell, and on the servant coming to open door, this worse than brute stood in no less dreadful figure than a spectre clad most perfectly. The consequence was that the poor girl immediately swooned, and has never from that moment been in her senses. The affair has now been going on for some time, and, strange to say, the papers are still silent on the subject. The writer has reason to believe that they have the whole history at their finger-ends but, through interested motives, are induced to remain silent.” The Lord Mayor seemed skeptical, but a member of his audience replied that “servant girls about Kensington, Hammersmith, and Ealing tell dreadful stories of this ghost or devil.” This led to a report published in the Times soon after, which drew a number of letters from around London also complaining of a similarly wicked prankster. In these letters came claims that young women in Hammersmith had been frightened into “dangerous fits” with some “severely wounded by a sort of claws the miscreant wore on his hands.” Another claim was that several people had either died of fright or had had fits in Stockwell, Brixton, Camberwell, and Vauxhall. Another was that the trickster had been seen in Lewisham and Blackheath. With this, the Lord Mayor instructed police to search for the individual, and rewards were offered. Two more attacks raised the profile of Spring-Heeled Jack. In February 1838, Jane Alsop answered the door of her father’s house to find a man claiming to be a police officer. He requested a light from her, saying “we have caught Spring Heeled Jack here in the lane.” She gave the figure his requested candle, but the moment she did, he threw off his cloak and “presented a most hideous and frightful appearance”, vomiting blue and white flame from his mouth with eyes resembling red balls of fire. He also apparently wore a large helmet and a tight-fitting outfit that resembled white oilskin. He began tearing at her gown with claws she felt were made “of some metallic substance”, and when she screamed and tried to run back toward the house, he tore her neck and arms as well. She was rescued by one of her sisters, and the assailant finally fled. Around a week later, 18 year old Lucy Scales was returning home with her sister after visiting her brother in the Limehouse area. While passing through Green Dragon Alley, she witnessed a figure standing down the alley, who revealed a spurt of blue flame from under his large cloak as she came upon him and caused her to drop to the ground, blinded, with violent fits that continued for hours. The brother had heard the screams and ran to the alley to find Lucy on the ground with her sister attempting to help her, but the strange figure had disappeared. As a weird note, a man named Thomas Millbank boasted in his local pub that he was Spring-Heeled Jack. This is not to be confused with Thomas Millwood, the victim in the Hammersmith Ghost case...even though the similarities get even weirder when considering that Millbank wore a greatcoat with white coveralls to appear spectral, as Millwood must have to Francis Smith. Millbank escaped conviction because he clearly couldn’t breathe fire, which Alsop insisted her attacker had. After these incidents, Spring Heeled Jack became a local folk legend, appearing in several penny dreadfuls and plays performed in the cheap theaters of the time. As his fame grew, however, new reports appeared less, though there were more reports in 1843 of a leaping attacker coming upon mail coaches and other individuals. Spring-Heeled Jack popped up again in the 1870s, around 1888 in Liverpool, and the last time being in 1904. No one was ever caught and identified as THE Spring-Heeled Jack. This, along with his supernatural abilities of high-leaping and fire-breathing, have caused many to attribute the story to a mass hysteria, one that equated Jack with a bogeyman or devil. Much like with Jack the Ripper, there were many contemporary theories about who the real Jack was, including thoughts around 1840 that it could be an Irish nobleman named the Marquess of Waterford, who died in 1859. The entity was also theorized as being possibly paranormal, extraterrestrial, or superhuman. In his book Unexplained, Jerome Clark categorizes Jack as a phantom attacker, with characteristics including that phantom attackers “appear to be human, and may be perceived as prosaic criminals, but may display extraordinary abilities and/or cannot be caught by authorities. Victims commonly experience the "attack" in their bedrooms, homes or other seemingly secure enclosures. They may report being pinned or paralysed, or on the other hand describe a "siege" in which they fought off a persistent intruder or intruders.” This sounds very similar to reports of sleep paralysis, but as victims are usually walking or traveling in public during the attacks, this is likely not the case. Let’s move on to another phantom attacker hysteria - the Mad Gasser of Mattoon! The Mad Gasser of Mattoon, also known as the Anesthetic Prowler and the Phantom Anesthetist, is a person or group of people believed to be responsible for a series of gas attacks that may have occurred in Matton, Illinois during the mid 1940s. The first of the Mad Gasser incidents supposedly occurred at a private home on Grant Avenue in Mattoon on August 31, 1944. Homeowner Urban Raef was awakened in the early morning hours by a strange odor that he felt had made him nauseated and weak, and was overcome with a fit of vomiting. Because of this Raef’s wife attempted to check the stove to see if there was a problem with the pilot light, but found that she was partially paralyzed herself and unable to leave her bed. A similar incident was reported by a young mother living closeby later that night, who found herself unable to leave her bed to attend to her coughing daughter. The 3rd reported incident, which occurred the next day on September 1st, became the first case to be reported by the media. A Mrs. Kearney living on Marshall Avenue reported smelling a strong, sweet over around 11pm, which continued getting stronger as Kearney began to lose feeling in her legs. Her sister, who was in the home, also noticed the odor, and felt it was coming from the direction of the open bedroom window, but not from the flowers outside the window. Police were contacted but no evidence of a prowler was found. Bert Kearney, a taxi driver, arrived home at 12:30am and found and unknown man wearing dark clothing and a tight fitting cap hiding near one of the home’s windows. Bert gave chase as the man fled, but was unable to catch him. Mrs. Kearney also reported a burning sensation on her lips and throat after the supposed “gas attack”. In the days following, there were several more similar attacks reported to police, including Mrs. Beulah Cordes becoming violently ill after smelling a cloth found on her porch September 5th and Fred Goble on September 6th seeing a prowler he believed to be the Gasser. Cordes had a particularly bad reaction, with swelling in her face, burning in her mouth and throat, and intense vomiting. Along with the cloth a well-used skeleton key and a large nearly-empty tube of lipstick were found on the sidewalk near the porch. Though the cloth was analyzed by experts, no chemicals were found on it that could explain Cordes’ reaction. Some allegedly found footprints under their windows and tears in their window screens. So many reports were called in to police that by September 12th, they had to reduce the priority given to Gasser reports, and stated it may be due to the anxiety felt by local women while men were deployed in war service. After that, the only report of note came in from Bertha Burch on September 13th, who described seeing the gasser, a woman dressed as a man, with woman’s footprints at the scene. I’m not sure when the figure started to be called the Mad Gasser of Mattoon, but that’s the name they have to this day. A couple weeks after the attacks began, Commissioner of Public Health Thomas V. Wright stated that though there had undoubtedly been a number of gassing incidents, many were likely due to hysteria. Not sure what his criteria was to divide these, but there we are. Wright told the media, “There is no doubt that a gas maniac exists and has made a number of attacks...but many of the reported attacks are nothing more than hysteria.” Police Chief C.E. Cole did him one better and stated he felt that there hadn’t been any gas attacks at all, but likely chemicals carried on the wind from nearby industrial facilities then being exacerbated by public panic. As early as 1945 the Mad Gasser case was being presented as an instance of mass hysteria, first in an article titled “The phantom Anesthetist of Mattoon: a field study of Mass hysteria” in the Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology by Donald M. Johnson. Some experts also believe that the hysteria was fueled by the headline “Mrs. Kerney and Daughter First Victims” in the Mattoon Journal-Gazette, framing the story in an assumption that there would be more gassing attacks. Aside from hysteria, is there something to the police chief’s suggestion that chemicals were being carried from nearby facilities? There are conflicting thoughts on this. Chief Cole felt that carbon tetrachlorida or trichloroethylene, both of which have a sweet odor and can induce illness symptoms, could have been the substance released as toxic waste. However, Atlas-Imperial, the primary company that would’ve contributed to this issue, released a statement in response saying that their entire facility only had 5 gallons of carbon tetrachloride ins tock, contained in firefighting equipment. Further, they felt any quantities of trichloroethylene - an industrial solvent - would not be responsible for the sickness in the town, and that it would have taken a truly significant amount to sicken the townspeople, and their own factory workers had not experienced any of the symptoms. Could it have been an actual assailant, carrying out these gassings just as it appeared? Or maybe, just like Spring-Heeled Jack was described, some sort of paranormal or extraterrestrial being? The question is open-ended. It seems clear that hysteria did grip the town of Mattoon, but whether the hysteria was unfounded, we may never know. The most recent mass hysteria case we’ll cover on this episode is one you may remember, the 2016 rash of clown sightings. The idea of a creepy, haunting clown is nothing new in pop culture - Ronald McDonald and Bozo were always somewhat unsettling, and of course you have serial killer John Wayne Gacy moonlighting as a sinister-looking clown...a literal killer clown that helped inspire the most famous evil clown in popular culture, Pennywise from Stephen King’s 1986 novel IT. As a culture, sometime post mid-20th century we really turned on the idea of the clown from being fun to being freaky. In 1981, years before the publication of IT, a group of schoolchildren in Brookline Massachusetts reported seeing scary clowns in a black van. A memo of caution was then sent to Boston-area school administrators. This panic spread even then, with multiple cities in the United States during the summer of ‘81 reporting phantom clown sightings. We’ve had rashes in 1986, 1991, 1994, 2008...it’s not an ONLY recent thing. It’s in this context that we get the 2016 sightings. The first reports came in Green Bay, Wisconsin. 5 pictures of a creepy-looking clown roaming a vacant parking lot at night under a bridge in Downtown Green Bay started going viral on August 1, 2016. Shortly after, a Facebook page was created, claiming the clown was named “Gags”. This story popped up on Fox News, USA Today, and other news outlets. Eventually a Wisconsin filmmaker announced the pictures were a stunt to publicise their unreleased short film “Gags”, with a feature film based on the short coming in 2018. Despite the initial sighting being a marketing ploy, the madness didn’t stop. At the end of August 2016 another incident occurred in Greenville, South Carolina, where multiple school children reported seeing a group of frightening-looking clowns “whispering” and “making strange noises” at the edge of a local forest. Local news reported on the story with headlines like ‘Clowns in woods try to lure children with money, residents say’, which, fair enough, I could probably be lured that way too. Police investigation turned up a total lack of evidence, leading them to feel it was a hysteria or hoax. More clown hoaxes or hysteria spread up from the Carolinas, with a Winston-Salem man being arrested for falsifying a police report about a clown sighting. Another report from Macon, Georgia alleged a group of clowns menacing children at a bus stop. The clown hysteria spread throughout the Southeast United States, then up the coast. I remember it hitting Connecticut, with our nearby Sacred Heart University landing in the Fairfield Patch for calls made to campus security and police on October 3rd 2016 concerning a clown sitting in a car outside a Bridgeport home occupied by SHU students. Though one of the students took a photo, no clown or vehicle was found once Bridgeport Police arrived on the scene. News of this incident in particular reached me, still living at home nearby, and actually prompted me to get a pepper spray keychain to put on my dog’s leash in case some weirdo in a clown costume came at me while walking him alone at night. Though I certainly didn’t believe in any paranormal background to the clown panic, I absolutely can believe that many assholes were taking advantage of the widespread fears by dressing up and harassing people at night, and I wanted to be sure anyone doing this to me would receive a faceful of mace in return. I still recommend having pepper spray at the ready, by the way, if you walk alone at night - guy, girl, whoever. Continuing in Connecticut, UConn students in Storrs left their dorms at night armed with hockey sticks and golf clubs, searching for any clowny perpetrators. 3 teens in Ansonia were arrested for social media threats relating to the clown panic. Additional arrests were made in Naugatuck and Beacon Falls. A specific threat was made to Lyman Hall High School in Wallingford, which led to an increase police presence throughout that day. New Haven police and public schools investigated clown-related Instagram posts. I mean, this was a legit thing that was ALL over at the time - plus you add that it’s October in New England? I mean, could ya GET more spooky? Stories of sightings spread West, too, with a variety of reports coming from states as disparate as Pennsylvania and Ohio to Kansas and Nebraska. 9 clown-related arrests were made in Alabama. In an interview with Vox, folklorist Ben Radford said that “I do think there’s an element of social anxiety,” referring to the 2016 election, the rise of mass shootings, and increasing tension with police and protestors. “It sort of creates this ripe social context for clown panics.” Indeed, the first wave came in the 80s, which was the heyday of the Satanic Panic and fears of child kidnappings. Clowns are figures meant to delight and entertain our children, but the concept was perverted with literal pedophile murder clowns John Wayne Gacy and Pennywise. As a society, whenever we perceive a threat to our children - no matter how outlandish - we tend to react starting at level 10. “You can put whatever mask you want on it,” said Radford, “but essentially it’s about a fear of the loss of the familiar and loss of control.” Whew, can’t relate to that at ALL, can we? The clown itself has always been more ambivalent than maybe we gave it credit for. It was informed by the harlequin, the jester, pantomimes, etc. In the opera Pagliacci, a clown murders his lover on stage, declaring “The comedy is finished!” The character of the Joker from Batman Comics has existed since 1940, way before John Wayne Gacy came on the scene--and the costume of the Joker clown was what James Holmes wore when he carried out the horrific Aurora movie theater shooting during the premiere of “The Dark Knight Rises”. Like, clowns were certainly not always whimsical figures in history. Maybe that’s why we have the instinctual creeps about them even today. A 2008 study by the University of Sheffield in the UK found that, quote, “Clowns are universally disliked by children. Some found them quite frightening and unknowable.” If we have any clown listeners, I’m sorry! I promise this segment is not meant to be a hateful screed against clowning. So, the hysteria did continue to spread for awhile there. The Russian Embassy in London issued a warning for Russian and British citizens in mid October 2016, and police in Fiji warned locals about the events. Shops began to take clown costumes off of their shelves, including places in New Zealand; Target pulled clown masks from their website, multiple school districts banned clown outfits and masks. The hysteria culminated in multiple news outlets reporting on a threatened “clown purge” - like the film The Purge - alleged to be taking place on Halloween night. Though no real purge occurred, a family from Florida was attacked on Halloween by a group of around 20 people in clown masks, but no arrests were made. It seems after this, and with the United States passing “creepy season” and heading into winter, the clown sightings finally died down, and then died out. It’s hard to find any articles about the phenomenon from after Halloween 2016. And isn’t that fitting? It was a bit of freaky fun for October, but after that, well, it’s time to get into the holidays, we don’t have the patience for clowns standing on street corners anymore. The 2016 clown hysteria inspired several pieces of media, including the upcoming found footage film Behind the Sightings, which ironically will make its debut on July 6 on Youtube - so perhaps give the film a watch after this episode! Sean, what do you think about these hysterias? Today we’re combining Cryin’ Saucers with a segment I’ll call “Carrie Reads Government Documents So You Don’t Have To!” It’s finally here, y’all. The Pentagon’s Unidentified Aerial Phenomena Task Force report to Congress is IN, and there are some juicy tidbits in the unclassified version. The report covers a total of 144 UAP (basically, UFO) sightings by US government sources between 2004 and 2021. Of these 144 sightings, the task force was able to debunk ONE with high confidence - stating “we identified the object as a large, deflating balloon. The others remain unexplained.” Did you catch that? 143 of the 144 total UFO sightings in the report were officially rendered unexplainable by the Pentagon. The 143 unexplainable sightings were also not able to be confirmed as being extraterrestrial in nature, hence- They felt some UAP may be technologies deployed by China, Russia, another nation, or non-governmental entity. In both the case of extraterrestrials or foreign government, it was felt that “no clear linkage” was able to be found at this time. In 18 cases, witnesses saw “unusual” patterns of movement or flight characteristics, though more analysis is needed to determine if these characteristics represent “breakthrough technology”, basically, past what we know is possible right now. A government source told AP News that the classified briefing contained little other information than what is publicly available in the unclassified report and the existing videos. Deputy Defense Secretary Kathleen Hicks said the report highlights the problem of flight hazards on or near military test ranges, and ordered the Pentagon to establish a more formal means of coordinating the collection and analysis of UAP information. Are we getting an official X-Files cabinet?? God, I hope so. Senator Marco Rubio, the top Republican on the Senate Intelligence Committee who long pushed for more UAP disclosure - which makes me like him just a little bit - wasn’t fully satisfied, saying the report is “an important first step in cataloging these incidents, but it is just a first step. The Defense Department and Intelligence Community have a lot of work to do before we can actually understand whether these aerial threats present a serious national security concern.” Crossing my fingers for more disclosure to come! That’s it for this episode of Ain’t It Scary with Sean and Carrie! Like us on Facebook and follow us on Twitter and Instagram @aintitscary, and check out our website at aintitscary.com. You can support the show by supporting our sponsors, and becoming a patron at www.patreon.com/aintitscary. And please, subscribe to the show and throw us a 5-star review on Apple Podcasts...we’ll be forever grateful. Make sure to check out the New York Mystery Machine podcast, dropping wherever you get your podcasts on Monday July 5th. The NY Mystery Machine is hosted by Christina Marinelli and Adam Mace, who you may remember as the host of The Talkback, a podcast we guested on back in September 2020 when we first launched! The show will be exploring New York’s biggest unsolved murders, hauntings, disappearances, and more - so give ‘em a listen! Special thanks to our beloved patrons, Nate Curtiss, Sean O’Donnell, Jared Chamberlin, Maria Ferrante, Robin McCabe, ComfyMike and Aleks Nakutis! See you next Thursday! This has been a production of Longboi Media.

You may have heard that a number of local venues have decided to close down for a few weeks because of Omicron. That cannot have been an easy decision for them, especially over New Year's Eve, and I commend them on it. However, DNA Lounge will be open on New Year's Eve, featuring both Bootie and Megalodon. And if you're going out clubbing right now, DNA Lounge is probably the safest place you can go. The "if" in that sentence is admittedly doing a lot of heavy lifting. But, we have consistently had the strictest vaccination policy of any nightclub in town, and probably the nation. We are literally the only venue that actually scans your QR code. You can be about as sure as you can be that you're not sharing the room with the unvaccinated. Sadly, CDC still says that "un-boostered" counts as "fully vaccinated", which is patently false. I wish I didn't have to say these things out loud, but I probably do: - Please, please, please get your booster shots. If you are more than six months out from your first vaccination, you are now effectively only half vaccinated or less. - Stop wearing fabric masks and bandanas. They do not help at all with Omicron. You need N95, KN95 or FFP2 now. You can wear your "pretty" mask on top of your "real" mask. - THE MASK GOES OVER YOUR NOSE. - And FFS, stop pulling down your mask at the bar to shout-spit your order at the bartender! It has been two years, do you still not understand how this works? A couple of changes coming up here at ye olde DNA Lounge: First: starting in mid-January, we're going to be requiring boosters for entry to DNA Lounge, for anyone who is more than six months out from their first round. And the only reason we're waiting that long to begin is that it is still proving a bit difficult for people to get booster appointments. So, you have a few weeks. Take care of your problem now. We don't enjoy standing on the sidewalk listening to you tell us how it's "not fair" and "you didn't know". Second: we're about to start doing weekly rapid PCR testing (that's the real kind) on all of our staff. The testing will be done on site by Discovery Health, in case you're interested in doing the same at your own business. It's not cheap, and we have to pay for it ourselves. Gee, isn't that the sort of thing the departments of health should be paying for, as a part of the national pandemic strategy? Ha ha ha, there is no strategy. We are still living in a Libertarian hellscape where our Federal and local governments are pretending that we can all just "personal choice" our way out of this. All of us small businesses are left needing to pick and choose our own policies about things that should be national or at least state-wide legal requirements, and we're all going to die. You know, us small businesses that Maskless Mayor Breed calls the "fun police". You may have heard that CDC cut the quarantine time in half at based on the research of noted scientist... checks notes... Ed Bastian, CEO of Delta Airlines. CDC is also also running ads that basically say, "Get vaccinated so you don't starve". It's pretty great to see such vivid proof that instead of protecting people, they are protecting capital. Some of my favorite responses to the unscientific quarantine reduction: Anyway, New Year, huh? Last year I did a "What have we accomplished this year?" post... This is the part, I am told, where I am supposed to say something positive and uplifting. I'm not really feeling it right now, but let's give it a try: In the first few months of the year, we did a whole lot of remodeling. We have a new dance floor! We made some major upgrades to our sound and lighting systems. We were able to do these things thanks to some generous donors, and for that we are incredibly grateful. In the first half of the year, while we were still closed, we also did a bunch of parklet parties. They were fun, but, they had like tens of people attend, so it wasn't much of a substitute for actually being a nightclub. Then we finally got to re-open at the end of June! People were finally able to crawl out from under their rocks, pale and fish-like, squinting at the light. It looks like this year we had around 200 in-person, in-door events, including 29 live shows (regrettably under-attended though they were). In July it seemed like things were slowly starting to return to normal... and then Delta happened and everyone got afraid. And then Omicron happened and, well, you know. Despite that, we had some pretty great live shows. Here are just a few samples. Plus, Halloween Week was fantastic, and we got to do another Cyberdelia. And a whole bunch of Hubbas! We also once again won "Best Nightclub", "Best Dance Party" and "Best Burlesque" in Best of the Bay. Star Crash: Keyozah + Jonah Sun + Host Bodies Fartbarf + Captured! By Robots + Mophono Cowgirl Clue + Slater + Evanora Unlimited + Femral Turbo Drive: Night Club + One True God + Essenger Star Crash: Quentel The Cryptid + Continues + Pleeay + No Swallow The Sun + Wilderun + Abigail Williams So, what did that all amount to? We got to actually run our business for half of the year, and that half was at way less than half capacity. But, we got to employ our staff, and we got to give our community a relatively safe opportunity to leave the damned house so that they could try to avoid completely losing their minds. That quarter was a very long year, is what I'm saying. So uh, Happy New Year. Try not to die.

Stephanie Willing Writes Author and Audiobook Narrator stories of myth, magic, and grit West of the Sea Paleontology-loving Haven West’s mom disappears after a long struggle with depression right as Haven discovers she’s inherited a monstrous family secret: she can turn into an amphibious cryptid. Haven, her sister, and new friend set off on a road trip to find her mom—and get some answers. PREORDER NOW AVAILABLE everywhere books are sold Signed copies only at Astoria Bookshop Writer, Reader, Mom Stephanie Willing is a middle-grade writer with an MFA in Writing for Young People from Lesley University. Her debut middle-grade novel, West of the Sea, releases August 15, 2023, from Viking Children's. She loves reading all kinds of books, narrating audiobooks, and sitting in coffee shops. She has two young sons, and it's a miracle she gets any writing done at all. Stephanie is represented by Alexandra Levick at Writers House. I was still in there, right? The real me. Not this horror. I curled up into a little ball on the narrow riverbank and covered my head with my hands. I hadn’t known a body could feel like home until I was shoved out of one shape and into another.

Legends & Lattes by Travis Baldree Published by Cryptid Press Release Date : 22nd February 2022 High Fantasy with a double-shot of self-reinvention. Worn out after decades of packing steel and raising hell, Viv the orc barbarian cashes out of the warrior’s life with one final score. A forgotten legend, a fabled artifact, and an unreasonable amount of hope lead her to the streets of Thune, where she plans to open the first coffee shop the city has ever seen. However, her dreams of a fresh start pulling shots instead of swinging swords are hardly a sure bet. Old frenemies and Thune’s shady underbelly may just upset her plans. To finally build something that will last, Viv will need some new partners and a different kind of resolve. A hot cup of fantasy slice-of-life with a dollop of romantic froth. WHAT FLAMES COULD NOT CONSUME, NEVER SHALL BE EXTINGUISHED Legends & Lattes is a relatable, cozy, and deliciously comforting the slice of life fantasy that feels like the warmest hug. As a 20-something year old young adult I start my day by drinking a cup of black coffee, straight, no sugar to wake me up and prepare myself for the day ahead. I drink my coffee to feel comfort and as a way to destress before the stress hits me. What I’m getting at with this opener is that Legends & Lattes is the combination of everything I love coffee, snacks, and fantasy. This self published novel first caught my eye after reading reviews from friends and raving reviews from fellow SFF bloggers. Legends & Lattes is a self published sapphic fantasy romance debut novel by Travis Baldree, a well known audiobook narrator of Will Wight’s Cradle series, that was released on February 22nd 2022. After two months since its release date Legends & Lattes has over 3k reviews on Goodreads which is incredible. In this case it wasn’t surprising that while I was reading I saw Travis Baldree’s tweet that Legends & Lattes had recently been acquired by TOR books. This is truly a wonderful turn of events for Travis Baldree because now Legends & Lattes can reach a wider audience and what is even more exciting Travis will expand the book into a series. In cupped hands around the warmth of a mug and the lingering enjoyment of the last taste. It was the echo of her own experience, and a pleasant flush of recognition washed over her. Legends & Lattes is a story that is centered around a retired adventurer, Viv, an orc barbarian that has adventured for years with her crew. One day she decides that her adventuring days are over after cashing out on one final score. Pocketing a mysterious artifact from the legends Viv heard during her travels, her whole life savings, and a dream to open up her own coffee shop. Viv sets her sight on a town called Thune where no one knows what coffee is. Partnering with the locals she built her cafe and starts serving the cup of joe. However, starting a business isn’t easy Viv stumbled upon many hurdles and attracted unwanted attention of shady friends and the local gang. Filled with drive and hope to succeed Viv puts her heart, soul, and energy into growing her business. The tag line on the cover “A novel of high fantasy and low stakes” is an accurate description of the premise of Legends & Lattes. Readers will definitely get what they are promised of a relatable simple premise that is opening up a cafe in a high fantasy world. What makes Legends & Lattes precious is how endearing the story line is and how violently genuine the motivation of the characters are. Travis Baldree relates to readers on a deeper level through their characters discussing themes of love, friendship, family, solidarity, the importance of community, and how food brings people together. Though the red string that ties the story together is the main theme that encapsulates Legends & Lattes which is about new beginnings and jumping out of your comfort zone to do something entirely different. I read this book while I was planning my wedding during that time I’ve only lived in Canada for three months adjusting to life here, this book is the comfort blanket that assured me that everything will be okay. Picking it up was the best decision ever because it comforted me when I was feeling homesick and anxious about the future. This was the first time something else made me feel a way I wanted to keep feeling. So, here I am, and with some blood still in me. The book is told mainly from the perspective of Viv. Readers will get to know Viv’s inner thoughts, the moments that solidified her resolve to open up a cafe, her insecurities and beliefs, etc. This sole POV is coloured with multiple interactions with different characters. Where there is a small cast of characters with their own intricate characterization, charm, and skill which they contribute to the growth of the cafe. The quality of interaction between the characters deserves the highest of praises. The bond they share is believable, genuine, and adorably precious. Being a former mercenary Viv is always wary of the people she surrounds herself with, as a cafe owner Viv has to maintain relationships both with customers and the people she works with. The consistency of running a cafe is different from the inconsistencies of mercenary contracts. It is a learning curve for Viv to be able to succeed in the hospitality industry and to learn how to trust the people around her. Cal, Tandri, and Thimble are the kindest characters that have extended their hand to Viv. They have taught, not just Viv but also readers, about trust, camaraderie, and kindness. As adults we often forget this notion because we have experienced hardships and tragedies. Legends & Lattes reminds us of that kindness that can be found from any where. The development of Viv into the strong hearted and happy cafe owner by the end of the book is so touching and heart warming. The growth of the other characters are also as satisfying especially Thimble. It was like drinking the feeling of being peaceful. Being peaceful in your mind. Well, not if you have too much, then it’s something else. Baldree’s pacing for the story is consistent and strategically done giving the story a solid gradual unfolding that is satisfying making it an enjoyable experience for me as a reader. Baldree’s writing and accessible prose is addictive with every chapter I read. What made Legends & Lattes such a serotonin boost is seeing the gradual growth of the cafe. Viv literally built it from the ground up. Baldree shows readers the process from the day Viv buys the land that will be the spot of the cafe, to the building renovations, the equipment acquirement, advertising, and everything in between. It started with a chalkboard menu of just one item into a complete menu with snacks. The process seeing Thandri adding one more item and naming them is fulfilling. I love seeing the menu grow. Anyone reading Legends & Lattes would want a bite of the cinnamon roll and a sip of the ice latte. An orc’s life was strength and violence and a sudden, sharp end—but she’d be damned if she’d let hers finish that way. It was time for something new. Final thoughts, Legends & Lattes is a warm hug in the form of a fantasy novel with amazing characterization, wholesome premise, and heart warming character interaction. There are layers to why this novel is so precious. Readers can feel how genuine and down to earth this story is being set in a high fantasy world. It is relatable, cozy, and deliciously comforting. I didn’t expect to have slice of life fantasy as my new favorite fantasy sub-genre that I fall in love with this year. This is a book that I am happy to see thriving from being self published to being acquired and soon to be traditionally published. I highly recommend Legends & Lattes to anyone that needs a pick me up or a few moments to destress from real life. It is the perfect book to read at a cafe, with your cup of coffee or tea, and maybe a cinnamon roll or two. Relax and enjoy the goodness that is Legends & Lattes! Pin this post!

I know summer isn’t officially over until the autumnal equinox rolls around mid-September, but by the time the calendar reads August 31, I’m already thinking fall. My husband and I will be closing our pool this coming weekend, Halloween stuff is stocked in most every store I visit, and the days are growing noticeably shorter. I live in the northeast where summer is much, much too short. Blink and it’s easy to miss. I love fall, but I thrive on summer. So…I’m lamenting the demise of my favorite season with an end of summer sale on SOLSTICE ISLAND, my breezy romantic adventure novella. Many thanks to all my friends and fellow bloggers who are helping me spread the word today and tomorrow! Why should you read SOLSTICE ISLAND (other than the fact it’s like a shot of summer wrapped up inside Kindle pages)? I’m glad you asked. 🙂 The Top Ten Reasons Why You Should Read Solstice Island by Mae Clair: - You’ll meet a hot charter boat captain trying to live down his family legacy. - You’ll encounter a spunky heroine cryptozoologist, determined hot captain should embrace said family legacy and all the baggage that goes with it. - You’ll be able to impress your friends with your stunning new knowledge of cryptozoology. - You may find yourself struck by the uncontrollable urge to look up blurry images of strange creatures online or go on a cryptid hunt (think Loch Ness, Big Foot, and the Jersey Devil). - You’ll learn why you should never ignore a craving for mint chocolate chip ice cream. - The next time your boat is attacked by a rampaging sea monster, you’ll know precisely what to do. - You’ll be swept up in a tale of romance, adventure, and folklore. - You’ll uncover buried treasure, thwart a villain, and discover a new use for a boat oar. - As a 72 page novella, SOLSTICE ISLAND makes a quick end of summer read. And the number one reason you should read SOLSTICE ISLAND: - It’s FREE on Amazon August 31 and September 1! SOLSTICE ISLAND Blurb: Can an ancient leviathan work magic between a practical man and an idealistic woman? Rylie Carswell is an amateur cryptozoologist in search of a mythical creature, the Sea Goliath. In order to reach Solstice Island, a location the ancient leviathan is rumored to haunt, she’s forced to hire charter boat captain, Daniel Decatur. Initially, Daniel wants nothing to do with the trip or the fool woman waving double payment in his face. Convinced she’s yet another loony treasure hunter looking for gold on the remote island, he reluctantly agrees. An embittered neighbor wants to have his charter license yanked, so the extra cash will help him stay afloat. It doesn’t take long for Daniel to realize Rylie is after the same beast his parents were tracking when they mysteriously vanished ten years earlier. He’s avoided all links to cryptozoology ever since, but the smart and sexy cryptid hunter has him second-guessing his oath and wondering what he’s signed on for. Warning: A family legacy, glowing plankton and rough waters. Download SOLSTICE ISLAND Free from: Add SOLSTICE ISLAND to your Goodreads TBR

Better throw out your GPS for this trip with Brett and Harley as they take you to the mountains of Oklahoma! On this week’s episode, we travel to Honobia, OK to check out the Honobia Bigfoot Conference. Where else are you going to find bigfoot, but in the mountains of Oklahoma. The people of this town are super nice and they can point you in the direction of all of the bigfoot hangouts. Bigfoot may not be the only cryptid walking in these woods, but he is the only one that gets his own conference. We like to support cool people doing cool things, and what is cooler than having a bigfoot event to raise scholarship money for the local youths. Bigfoot has been around these parts for as far back as anyone can remember, but was brought to the attention in 2001 when a horrifying encounter made the news. We discuss the event that happens at the beginning of every October and some of the cool people we me along the way. This is an epic oddity hidden away in a scenic location. Our news story is truly disgusting and ripped from the headlines. ScienceNews.org brings us a new super-food. If you are planning a trip to Honobia, these are just a few other activities that you might be interested in checking out: Beavers Bend State Park 45 minutes away – Eagle watches are available from November through February. Trout fishing, fly fishing clinics, guided horseback rides, and hayrides throughout the park are other activities offered at Beavers Bend. Robbers Cave State Park 1 hour away – This park is a favorite of rappellers, equestrians, hikers and outdoor lovers. Robbers Cave is historically notable as a former hideout for infamous outlaws Belle Starr and Jesse James. Brett’s top 5 things you didn’t know about Oklahoma list. We also discuss one of the best burgers in Oklahoma. All this and more on episode 47 of the Travel Oddities Podcast. Give us some love on ITunes OK News story about Honobia Roach Milk News Story Original Honobia Bigfoot Story Defense against Bigfoot Honobia Creek Store Honobia Oklahoma Bigfoot Conference Lyle Blackbun – Author

Justin Aclin On ‘S.H.O.O.T. First’ And Battling The Supernatural With Weaponized Atheism [Interview] Around Halloween, it's always fun to read stories about ghosts and spirits, and personally, my favorite kind of spooky story usually revolves around a team of hard-boiled toughs slugs it out with monsters in a more action-oriented tale. Justin Aclin and Nicolás Selma's S.H.O.O.T. First, currently out from Dark Horse, fits that mold, but there's a twist: Rather than fighting the monsters on their own supernatural terms, the Secular Humanist Occult Obliteration Taskforce battles exactly the monsters they don't believe in, gunning them down with guns powered by anger and atheism. It's an interesting twist on a classic concept, so to find out more, I talked to Aclin about his motivations for writing the series, the reaction he's expecting from religious readers, and how personal the stories of atheism guns are for him. ComicsAlliance: So how hostile do you think this interview is going to be? Justin Aclin: [Laughs] Is that a trick question? Will the answer I give set the level of hostility? You and I managed to get through an interview about Star Wars together, so I'm sure we can cross any bridge we come to and it'll be fine. CA: I ask because it was only a couple of days ago that I wrote about how I don't like it when monsters are given "scientific" explanations for existing rather than just going with magic, and that's pretty much the exact premise of S.H.O.O.T. First. JA: I'll be honest with you. Your approval is very important to me. [Laughs] I actually got legitimately nervous when I read that, I thought "oh crap, I just sent Chris a couple issues that are exactly like that!" But I legitimately thought, well, that is the premise, but I feel like, as you pointed out, a lot of the stories that take that position do it as a way to be lazy about monsters and impose their own rules, whereas in S.H.O.O.T. First, it's sort of the whole point of it. It feeds into the central metaphor and the central conflict of what the whole series is about, so hopefully it's not just a matter of me deciding that I don't want to come up with an explanation for why vampires don't show up on camera. The reason behind it and all the world-building is based around this fact. CA: The places where it bugs me tend to be in stories where things that are every bit as weird as monsters already exist. In a superhero comic, there's no need to not just have vampires, because you already have Kryptonians or Doctors Strange. And I do like S.H.O.O.T. First a lot, actually. All I ask for is consistency, and if it's Hellboy where everything is true, that's fine. If it's S.H.O.O.T. First, where nothing is true, that's also fine. I think you've done a good job with that. JA: Thank you. S.H.O.O.T. First does take place in this world where everything that you can imagine that could be considered a supernatural monster, or a cryptid, or a religious creature is basically one type of creature that S.H.O.O.T. refers to as "Outside Actors." We get into it quite a bit in the first issue, and in subsequent issues too, but they're extradimensional creatures that self-evolve. They can choose their own form, so they can basically be whatever they want. But somewhere along the line, they discovered that if the form they choose aligns with either a creature that humans have a belief or a faith in, or if they then manipulate creatures into having faith in them, it charges them and gives them even greater abilities and powers. That's the history of our two species for the past couple thousand years. They've been manipulating us into believing in their various forms, and humanity's just been going along with it. Then along comes the Secular Humanist Occult Obliteration Taskforce, and they not only want to stand up for humanity being able to stand on their own without this manipulation, they also know that the Outside Actors have an endgame in mind that involves most of the people on Earth dying, so they're here to protect us. CA: It's an interesting idea, beacuse you have this group of super-hardcore atheists trying to prevent what would be a literal Biblical apocalypse. JA: Right, and the reason it would be a Biblical apocalypse is that they're setting it up to be a Biblical apocalypse. They've been seeding these apocalyptic prophecies for thousands of years just in case they ever needed to pull the ripcord and make it happen. Now they're realizing that if things keep going along as they have been, eventually their food supply is going to dry up. Science and reason will win out over faith, so their plan is to pull the ripcord, make one of these apocalyptic prophecies come true -- because there are several factions that each have their own apocalypse that are a competing to be the first one to have theirs happen -- and even though most of humanity will die out in that, the people left over will be in their pocket forevermore. Those are the stakes they're fighting against. CA: There are a lot of things I want to talk about. The Atheism Guns, for example, are a pretty fun idea, but since you already brought up what's going on in the comic, let's talk about that. I read #1 and #2 back-to-back today, and I thought "oh wow, Aclin's looking to get letters." JA: [Laughs] Especially #2, I think. I tried to be respectful of religion, other than the fact that, obviously, this takes place in a world where religion is wrong. Setting that aside, I'm not saying that people are wrong for being religious or having religion. The opening action scene takes place in a mosque, but it's not "evil Muslims" attacking it, it's S.H.O.O.T. trying to save the people who are worshiping there from the Outside Actors that are attacking them. It's never religious people or people of faith being the antagonists, unless they're allied with the Outside Actors and trying to do harm to humanity, which does come up a few times. The comic does have a viewpoint, which may be a popular viewpoint on the Internet, but isn't a popular one in the outside world yet, which is that religion may have its place, but a certain kind of religion that belives firmly that it has all the right answers and that everyone else should live by the truths it believes is a destructive force. The people fighting against that are the protagonists in this series. So yeah, if fundamentalist religious people are ever moved to pick up a comic book that says "Angels vs. Atheists" on the cover, I'll probably get some letters about it. CA: I think you might have a Jack Chick tract about you. JA: Is he still active?! CA: Oh yeah. As someone in the south with Halloween coming up, I can tell you without a doubt that there are going to be houses handing them out instead of candy. JA: I should've gotten him to do an alternate cover. CA: That would've been great. But yeah, we've talked about it before and I've read the Dark Horse Presents stuff, so I knew the premise going in, and it's the kind of thing that could quickly become just really insulting very easily, if it's not done well. But I think it works out really well. JA: I'm sure there's a comic you could write where it's a team of atheists fighting against just religious people constantly, but I'm dealing in allegory here. I think the important word in the title is "Humanist." this isn't a team of completely cynical nihilists who are out to destroy everything having to do with religion, they're humanists. They believe in humanity. They're taking a stand for humanity, and that includes religious people and people who wouldn't choose to have their services if they had a choice in the matter. There's a line in the DHP story that you mentioned where Mrs. Brookstone says that they defend humanity whether humanity wants it or not. Like I said, there's a certain viewpoint that the comic takes about a certain kind of religion, but when it comes to humans and humans who are willing to let other humans live as they want, it's a very pro-humanity book. Hopefully that comes across as, if not inoffensive to everyone, because I'm certain it's going to step on a few toes, then as coming from a place that's not looking to poke people in the eye for the sake of it. CA: Most comics, superhero comics in particular, take the position that everything mythological is true. It's kind of by necessity of there being myths and weird history that it's fun to do stories about. In Hellboy, like I said, every religion is true, every folktale is true, every bedtime story is true. With S.H.O.O.T. First, is it a matter of you seeing that nobody was doing a comic where none of it was true? Was that the role you wanted to fill? JA: When I was trying to come up with the story, I wanted to do that sort of Dark Horse comic that Dark Horse is known for, where it's a team battling against mythological creatures. It's fun. I love that kind of thing. I'd just read Beasts of Burden, which is fantastic, and which is basically BPRD with the twist that everybody is a pet. I read that and was blown away by it, and I was thinking "what's the twist that I can do?" The twist that I came up with was that every time you see monster hunters, they're fighting on the monsters' own terms. You always see someone going after a vampire with a stake and garlic, you never see monster hunters saying "it's all bulls**t, we're going to go after them on our own terms with our own weaponry." That was what unlocked it for me, and then it happened to dovetail into things I was going through at the time in terms of becoming less religious and starting to question my own beliefs. It gelled nicely and turned into this thing that became not only the action-adventure comic that I wanted to write, but something that really let me explore questions that I had about what I was going through, and emotional places that will hopefully resonate with people besides me. CA: It feels like there's a lot of Nextwave in this, too, in terms of influence. JA: It's funny. You're not the first person who's said that, and I've seen a few people say that Nicolás Selma's artwork, with colors by Marlac, reminds them a lot of Stuart Immonen's work on Nextwave, which is fantastic. CA: That's not a bad comparison to draw. JA: Oh, yeah. Immonen is tops, man. But it's funny, because other than an issue here and there, I haven't read Nextwave, believe it or not. It's cool, I've gotten that comparison enough times that I want to check it out, and I'm flattered, because I know people love Nextwave. The Pyramid Golem, I was amazed that no one had done it before. I searched for it after I came up with it, and it was probably three years ago now that we've been putting this book together, and I've been living in fear ever since that someone else would do it before it came out. CA: I'm jealous of it. I wish I would've come up with it. JA: There was a race and nobody knew it. CA: Let's talk about the characters. You talk about working through a lot of stuff yourself, and there's a lot of that in the character of Infidel. There's a scene in #2 that I think is a very common thing for people who have faith and lose it, where they have a moment where they wish they could go back. Is that something that was personal for you? JA: That, not so much. I live in New York, you know? I'm not surrounded by super-religious people. My family, even though I was raised Jewish, none of them are very religious, and my wife and I are very much on the same page, so I'm very fortunate in that regard. What Infidel is responding to is that, coming from Afghanistan and coming from a community that is very much based around faith, losing it isn't just a personal thing for him. It shuts him off from everyone he knew. I've never had that experience of wanting to go back, but what he's going through in terms of recognizing that... once you lose that faith, you can't just will yourself to feel it again. Once the plug is pulled out of the bathtub, there's no getting that water back. That's something I've definitely experienced, but I've never had that sort of longing to undo it that he has. This is getting a little personal, but when I was first writing the story and starting to deal with it, I had a lot of questions about how I would feel, especially in terms of how I was going to raise my children and how I was going to teach them about death. One of the chief strengths of religion is that it gives you a belief in something that's greater than yourself, and that's something that makes death feel less scary. Once that goes away, how do you replace it? Do you need to replace it? Working through the story of S.H.O.O.T. First helped me figure that out. I won't tell you where it is, because you'll be able to tell if you read all four issues. CA: I was going to ask, then, do you consider yourself to be closer to Mrs. Brookstone? The person who finds herself unable to comfort her son? JA: We do raise the kids with our beliefs. I was lucky. The very first page of #1 is Mrs. Brookstone being surprised by her son when he asks her what happens after you die, and by her reaction, we can tell that this is a) not something she's prepared to answer, and b) something she's been dreading having to answer. That came from, not so much the personal experience of my kids asking me about it, but of dreading what was going to happen when they did. By the time they eventually did, I'd worked out a lot of the stuff, so I was more prepared to answer than Mrs. Brookstone was. But yes, I do identify with her, very much. I think being a parent and having these struggles is a lot different from going through it on your own. You're not just thinking about your place in the universe, you're thinking about the place for your children and how you're going to instruct them and how they're going to fit in with the community and their peers. There's a lot of responsibilities of being a parent, and this is one of them.

The Barmanou, a bipedal humanoid primate cryptid which allegedly inhabits the mountainous region of northern Pakistan. Shepherds living in the mountains have reported sightings. The Barmanou is the Pakistani equivalent of the Bigfoot. The term Barmanou originating in Khowar, but now used in several Pakistani languages including Urdu, Shina, Pashto and Kashmiri. In addition to the name Barmanou there are a few local variant names as well. The proposed range of the Barmanou covers the Chitral and Karakoram Ranges, between the Pamirs and the Himalaya. This places the Barmanou between the ranges of two more-famous cryptids, the Almas of Central Asia and the Yeti of the Himalayas. The Barmanou allegedly possesses both human and apelike characteristics and has a reputation for abducting women and attempting to mate with them. It is also reported to wear animal skins upon its back and head. The Barmanou appears in the folklore of the Northern Regions of Pakistan and depending on where the stories come from it tends to be either described as an ape or a wild man. The first search in Pakistan for Bipedal Humanoid man was carried out by a Spanish zoologist living in France, Jordi Magraner, from 1987 to 1990. He wrote a paper, Les Hominidés reliques d’Asie Centrale, on the Pakistani cryptid – the wild man. He later researched the Barmanou extensively in the 1990s, but was murdered in Afghanistan in 2002. Loren Coleman wrote that he “collected more than fifty firsthand sighting accounts, and all eyewitnesses recognized the reconstruction of Heuvelman’s homo pongoides [“apelike man”–i.e., a living Neanderthal.]. They picked out homo pongoides as their match to Barmanu from Magraner’s ID kit of drawings of apes, fossil men, aboriginals, monkeys, and the Minnesota Iceman.” In May 1994, during a search in Shishi Kuh valley, Chitral, cryptologist Jordi Margraner, Anne Mallasseand and another associate reported that once during a late evening they heard unusual guttural sounds which only a primitive voice-box could have produced. No further progress could be made.

Tonight’s date with the King is the second King novel I ever read, and today it is still one of the stories I find myself coming back to most. The premise is simple: an alcoholic writer becomes the winter caretaker for an isolated old hotel in the Colorado mountains, looking to both cure his drinking problem and his writer’s block. He moves with his wife and young son into the hotel, where they will be shut away for the foreseeable winter. What could possibly go wrong?Read More Tag: 31 Days with King Tonight’s date with the King is one whose premise may not sound particular interesting (a killer car?), but I can assure you it provides for a quality read if you give it a chance! At least, I can guarantee it’ll scare you enough to never want to adjust your car seat ever again. Tonight’s selection is…Christine!Read More Tonight our date with the King is Lisey’s Story, a novel that King himself has stated is his favorite of all the books he has written. I have personally owned a copy of Lisey’s Story for a long time, but while I only recently got around to reading it, I am glad I did because it quickly became a work I am fond of.Read More Tonight’s date with King (or technically what was supposed to be last night’s date) is a King story who’s movie is getting a remake this year: Pet Sematary! Pet Sematary is a novel King wrote in 1983, after King returned to teach at his alma mater, the University of Maine, and his family moved next to a busy road out in the country.Read More - Hoia Baciu ForestSometimes referred to as the "Bermuda Triangle" of Romania, the Hoia Baciu forest in Transylvania has more than its share of weird stories surrounding it. It's spooky for sure, but it's not spooky enough to have people start calling the Bermuda Triangle the "Hoia Baciu Forest of the Ocean". Join Acadia and Shooey as the […] - The Franklin Coverup Part Three (Bohemian Grove)This is the last of our only ever four part series (and third of just the Franklin Coverup) and it took a little bit out of us. The story is so gross that it gave two of the Fell Companions the 'rona! But that is all behind us now. We don't have to listen to […] - The Franklin Coverup Part TwoThis story is just too horrible to fill just one episode, so here we go with part two of the lurid tale of child sex rings, corruption, and a justice system that (maybe) doesn't work right. Oh, and I guess we should mention that some of the Grackles have Covid so we will be back […] - The Franklin CoverupJoin us as we discuss one of the most horrific things we have ever covered on the show. If you want really terrible stuff in your true crime, we have a whole bunch of it for you in this episode. Oh, and some people say it never happened, but we will deal with that next […] - Johnny GoschSeason Five starts with Mells, Snoops, Shooey and Acadia talking about Johnny Gosch and how the case of the Iowa paperboy gone missing is the first link in a terrible chain. Sit back and prepare yourself to get mad at some cops! - PopobawaWe end Season Four with a cryptid who doesn't just scare you. The Popobawa from Tanzania does...other things to you, and then threatens you that he will do it again if you don't do what he says! Join Mells, Snoops and Acadia as they investigate this malevolent cryptid. Thanks for a great season and we […] - Fred and Rose West - Part TwoThe terrible story of Fred and Rose West is finished off this week as Acadia and special guest Emma from Fan Critical go in depth into the horrors of 25 Cromwell Street in Gloucester, England. We don't have special guests very often. It's what makes them special. So enjoy! - Fred and Rose West - Part OneAcadia is joined by special guest Emma from the Fan Critical podcast to discuss part one of the story of Fred and Rose West, the worst sex murderers who ever lived in Gloucester, England. We hope. - Daniel LaPlanteDaniel LaPlante was a teenager in the 80s who had a hard life but no matter how rough things for him were, they don't excuse his actions. Join Acadia, Shooey and the newest member of the team, Snoops, as she debuts with one of her all time favorite stories. That should tell you something all […] - The Witchcraft MurderCome with us to England where we discuss the terrible murder of Charles Walton in 1945. Was he killed by a witch? Some say he was, indeed. Find out what Acadia, Mells, and Shooey think as they dig into the story and do some incredible British accents. Seriously, top notch!

First, I’m sick, and when I’m sick I am COLD. Cold hands, cold feet, pissier than usual. I’m wearing LAYERS. WHAT IN THE ACTUAL GROUCHY FUCK. Okay, in my previous post On being hungry, I talked about…a lot of horrible crap. But I found a really important picture: I kept this picture on every fridge I used (I didn’t actually own one until 2003) for years and somehow lost it. You’d better believe I’m having this re-printed and stuck on the front of my fridge. In my previous-previous post, How to Buy Friends and Delude Yourself, I talked about being a loser in desperate need of attention. I did get some validation from the guys at The Cryptonaut Podcast and I’m not going to lie, I might have cried a little bit. I was just happy to be acknowledged. It’s right at the beginning, so just listen. Super great transcription by me: Mark: Before we get started with this week's episode we got some shout outs to give to some super awesome listeners that sent us some super cool presents. Chu Brown! Rob: Unfuckingbelievable Chris: Oh my god. Mark: Chu Brown with the Kraken Rum Rob: How could she know? I mean of course it's a cryptid, it's a cryptid so she's thinking...but little could she imagine that well nigh a decade ago Chris and I one slammed, just annihilated a bottle--I think it was mid afternoon, I think we were sitting at your kitchen island- Chris: probably Rob: -working on a screenplay about an anti-Noah's ark as we were wont to do in our misspent youth. And we just polished off an entire bottle of Kraken and I have not had a sip of it since. It is amongst the favorite things I can ever put in my mouth. They go on to discuss the how Chu Brown should be a 70’s private eye show and I agree wholeheartedly. I don’t think I can grow a proper mustache but maybe that can be corrected in make up. Also, to answer the question of how could she know? Well… I really do feel so happy (and relieved) when people like the gifts I give them, but regardless of whether it’s a stranger or a friend I’ve had since grade school or my husband of a million years I’m sure they all secretly hate everything. That every item or gesture or attempt at doing a nice thing is perceived as me being at best a total fucking idiot. My rational brain tells me that that’s silly, and that I should trust that if someone says they like their gift that means they actually like it so I will grit my teeth and do my best to believe that. I really am glad they liked their gift.

This week, the crew watched paranormal horror Ghost House, which rose above its innocuous title to prove itself a more than formidable example of a successful ghost story. Also discussed is the sequelitis that Houses That October Built 2 is infected with, Russian cannibal families, cold case killer clowns from Florida, eyeball tattoos, getting married at Tim Hortons and a whole load of genre news. The crew keep it local in this week’s Crappy Cryptid and then round off the episode with a monstrous round of Whole Hog. If you have questions you would like asked on air, by our team, please feel free to send them to drunkinagraveyard @ gmail . com, or tweet us @DrunkGraveyard.

Who's Behind Listverse? Jamie founded Listverse due to an insatiable desire to share fascinating, obscure, and bizarre facts. He has been a guest speaker on numerous national radio and television stations and is a five time published author.More About Us Top 10 Times Hurricanes Left Strange Things Behind Hurricanes are one of nature’s greatest forces. With great power comes great . . . all right, hurricanes have no responsibility. (Sorry, Spider-Man.) But they do leave interesting things in their wake. Uprooting ancient artifacts and freeing the biggest alligator is just the start. The superstorms also solve cold cases, creep out the Internet with monsters, and leave behind incredible survivors. 10 Island-Hopping Cows Cedar Island is home to wild herds of horses and cattle. After Hurricane Dorian swept into North Carolina in 2019, locals decided to check on the animals’ well-being. They were devastated to find that 17 cows and 28 horses were missing. Their worst fears were confirmed when the bodies of some of the horses began to wash ashore. The rest of the missing animals were presumed to have also drowned. Cape Lookout National Seashore is separated from Cedar Island by roughly 6–8 kilometers (4–5 mi). The distance is not cow-paddle friendly. Yet, three of the missing bovines were found happily grazing on Cape Lookout. How they made it to the island alive is a mystery. Even if the storm surge pulled them along, the fact that they survived being tossed in a brutal sea the entire distance is a miracle. 9 Civil War Cannonballs After Hurricane Dorian left South Carolina, a couple combed the beach for tidbits. The area, Folly Beach, had already delivered 16 cannonballs from the Civil War after Hurricane Matthew swept through the region in 2016. The couple found two more cannonballs from the same war. Initially, they mistook the weathered artifacts for rocks. But a closer look revealed a complete cannonball and a partial shell. The authorities took the discovery seriously and cordoned off the area. The myth that all cannonballs are solid metal is a dangerous one. Some are live explosives because they contain gunpowder. The two artifacts probably contained gunpowder because most of the Hurricane Michael batch did. Explosive experts took over both cases, and the cannonballs were likely destroyed for safety reasons. 8 Irma Closed A Police Case In 2013, Rodelson Normil decided to go for a swim in the ocean. The 17-year-old was last seen near Gulfstream Park when a riptide pulled him into the open sea. His body was never found. Four years later, Hurricane Irma hit the area. Among the things pushed ashore by the storm was a human bone. The femur was taken to a laboratory in Texas for identification. As Normil was known to have vanished in the area, scientists extracted genetic material from his toothbrush and from his parents. The DNA from his family and his toothbrush matched the bone’s DNA, confirming that the teenager had not survived. The case was finally closed as an “accidental drowning.” 7 Floating Fire Ant Colonies When Hurricane Florence waltzed through the Carolinas in 2018, she brought severe flooding to several neighborhoods. The water hid many dangers, including snakes and downed power lines. But another threat floated openly on the surface—colonies of ticked-off fire ants. When a flood hits, this species floats to safety by clinging to a living raft. It consists of all the ants clustering together, including their eggs, larvae, and queen. Although this strategy stops the colony from drowning, the ants are quite vulnerable out in the open. That makes them nobody’s friend. The ants attack anyone who touches them. The unbelievably painful sting has earned them the name “fire ants.” Indeed, during the aftermath of Florence, the rafts looked like harmless debris. But they posed a very real danger to rescue workers and people moving through the water. 6 Fresh Evidence Of Historical Explosion In 1816, the US Navy attacked a fort in Florida. The fort held 320 people, mostly Native Americans and former African-American slaves. The community refused to surrender, and a week-long battle ensued. During a devastating moment, a shot fired by the navy hit the fort’s ammunition depot. The explosion killed 270 people. Later, the survivors succumbed to injuries inflicted by the blast and the soldiers who stormed the fort. In the following years, the site was renamed Fort Gadsden. Vegetation sprang up everywhere. But in 2019, Hurricane Michael toppled roughly 100 trees. When archaeologists returned to assess the damage, they discovered fresh artifacts from that terrible day. Stuck in the root balls of the trees was ammunition from the depot, including musket balls. Apparently, as time went by, the trees grew over the devastation, pushed the items deeper into the ground, and kept them out of sight until Michael ripped their roots from the earth. 5 Imelda Freed America’s Biggest Alligator Imelda was technically a tropical storm. Had the tempest been slightly stronger, it would have been classified as a hurricane. But nobody at Gator Country cared for the somewhat reduced status of the storm. When Imelda hit their alligator sanctuary in Texas, the reality was terrifying. Imelda arrived in 2019 and dropped 109 centimeters (43 in) of rain on the Beaumont facility. The floodwaters rose above the fences that kept the alligators in their pens. When the waters receded, many gators were missing—including Big Tex. Measuring 4.3 meters (14 ft) and weighing 454 kilograms (1,000 pounds), he was the biggest alligator that had ever been captured in America. Luckily for the neighborhood pets, the gator was found and returned to the sanctuary within a few days. The reptile was lucky, too. He had escaped during the peak of alligator hunting season. 4 Miracle The Dog Hurricane Dorian (of the island-hopping cow fame) also razed the Bahamas. This time, the storm devastated pets along with their homes. Animal welfare organizations rescued any dogs that they could find. But as the weeks fell away, so did the hope that more pets would be found alive under the rubble. One organization, the Big Dog Ranch Rescue in Palm Beach County, refused to give up. They used drones to search the worst-affected areas and difficult-to-reach places. That’s how they noticed a dog trapped under an air conditioner in Marsh Harbor. Incredibly, despite not having eaten anything for almost four weeks, he was still alive. The emaciated pet became the 138th dog rescued by the group and was suitably named Miracle. He recuperated at Big Dog Ranch for a few weeks. Once Miracle had put some fat on his bones, the plucky pup was put up for adoption. 3 Hurricane Harvey’s Monster Texas endured Hurricane Harvey in 2017. Shortly after the storm fizzled, science communicator Preeti Desai went for a walk on the beach and found a creature pulled from the ocean by Harvey. The animal was already decomposing, which was why Desai could not identify it straightaway. But with the serpentine body and jaws lined with fangs, it looked like the proverbial sea monster. The Internet went ape. The beast reached stardom among cryptid sleuths, but the experts agreed that Desai had found an eel. The species was a mystery. Desai had taken pictures of the creature, but she had left its body behind. As DNA tests were out, the carcass was matched to known eel species based on the length of its body and scary set of teeth. The suspects for Harvey’s monster include the fangtooth snake-eel, the tusky eel, and the stippled spoon-nose eel. 2 Ophelia’s Strange Red Sky The former Hurricane Ophelia pulled a number on Ireland in 2017. While the damage was noteworthy, the most memorable moment occurred after the storm had passed. In Britain, the sky was no longer blue. Instead, the atmosphere had an eerie red glow. On the way over to Ireland, Ophelia scooped sand from the Sahara desert. This grainy cloud was so large that it disrupted the atmosphere’s physics. Specifically, the dust messed with the color blue. Any wavelength that carried blue was reflected into the sky, while red waves were allowed to go through. This desert-in-the-sky filter led to the hazy redness that lasted for at least a day. 1 Homes In The Air The horror known as Hurricane Sandy landed in 2012. Among the places flooded by the superstorm was the Jersey Shore. Countless properties were damaged or destroyed by the water. The community responded in an unusual way. Instead of moving to a safer place, many residents simply moved their homes higher into the air. Several years after Sandy, the neighborhood has been changed forever. Some houses are down on the ground, while the rest are raised high in the sky. Their elevated garages cannot be used, and their front porches (steps and all) now look more like strange balconies.

What a rollercoaster of a ride these last few months. Turbulent energies and fluctuating levels are really taking their toll on those of us who are more sensitive than the average bear. How does it all feel where you are? Are you checking in with your community of therapy workers, energy workers and empaths? You know that as a very energy-sensitive person, we really benefit from being around others of the same ilk.. sometimes even just being in the presence of other energy workers is a support. This week we are talking all things energy, challenges, journeys.. literal and metaphorical. Where is it all going?! If you get to the end of the podcast, you'll hear a baby tawny owl. This was what it was like, every night during my visit home. Owls ALWAYS feature very heavily when I journey back to catch up with family. https://theanthropophobiaproject.bandcamp.com/track/pesticide-acoustic Featured Music Artists, The Anthrophobia Project and The Aquaerials, 'Pesticide' from the album 'Sinking Ships' https://www.darkjournalist.com/ for the explosive ongoing X series. https://bigfooteyewitness.com/ Vic Cundiff's homepage which was taken down from YouTube but you can subscribe to his homepage here. https://dogmanencounters.com/ Vic Cundiff's homepage for the remaining channel on YouTube that is currently experiencing a raft of ongoing difficulties. Both shows specialise in cryptid sightings and encounters.

The car's a bit of a cryptid, with few facts and plenty of fuzzy details to go on. The SP Signature concept apparently began as an Indian-market product, then morphed into a worldwide offering. Kia said the "SP Concept hints at the company's plans to introduce a new small SUV for its global markets," but that "hint" has already been confirmed; Kia Motors CEO Han-Woo Park told Automotive News last October that the U.S. would get a new compact crossover in late 2019, and a prototype matching the Signature's profile has been spotted testing. Slotting in below the Sportage and about the size of the Hyundai Kona, the reported retail name is Tusker, but we aren't sure that name will apply here. Although the Signature evokes Kona vibes, detailing makes the Signature look more technical and hawkish than the Kona, which we like. Rumor also has it that the so-called Tusker won't include all-wheel drive as an option so as to leave daylight between it and the Sportage. Several outlets have posited a debut at the New York Auto Show, partly because the N.Y. show put out a press release listing Kia as one of the automakers with a world debut. That press release has since disappeared, and with Hyundai having announced the even smaller Venue crossover for New York, it's possible Kia could have to give way to big brother.

People living on the shores of Okanagan Lake have long said that dark, curling waves signal the presence of Ogopogo, a monstrous serpent lurking beneath the surface. A handful claim to have seen the long green body and horse-like head of Canada’s own Loch Ness monster. They tell stories of a creature that once nearly killed a settler when it dragged his horse into the depths. And every few years, new video footage renews excitement that Ogopogo has been found. Indigenous residents tell a very different story: one of a scared water spirit whose identity has been warped by outsiders. Now, a move to return ownership of the Ogopogo legend to a First Nation has renewed discussions over the appropriation of traditions – and the challenges Indigenous nations face in reclaiming their culture. Okanagan Lake is a 84-mile sliver of water in British Columbia, famed as a summer vacation spot, and as home to the monster. But Ogopogo recently became the focus of controversy when the city of Vernon granted a children’s author permission to use the monster’s name for his upcoming book. The city had held the copyright since 1956 when it was donated by an enterprising local reporter, but that fact was not widely known, and the revelation that local officials had control over the name came as a shock to nearby First Nations. “We equated it to someone taking ownership over the Bible and suddenly copywriting the name Moses,” said Chief Byron Louis of the Okanagan Indian Band, one of the seven communities of the Syilx Nation. “The idea that someone can take ownership of your teachings and your religious beliefs is absolutely unacceptable.” After Louis and others voiced concerns, the council voted in late March to transfer the copyright to the Syilx Okanagan Nation. “It’s much more than just simply a gesture,” said Louis. “It’s the city saying ‘This is not ours. This is yours.” The name Ogopogo comes from an English music-hall song, but the creature itself is based on a Syilx water spirit named n ̓x̌ax̌aitkʷ (pronounced n-ha-ha-it-ku) Although the Ogopogo is depicted as a fearsome reptile, the Syilx say the spirit, which can take the form of a dark serpent with antlers, spends most of its time in its true form: the water itself. The Syilx would sing to the spirit, gifting it sage, tobacco and salmon. But early settlers mistook the gifts as sacrifices to a monster. “The gifts were an acknowledgement that the blessings and abundance we have come because of our water,” said Coralee Miller, from the Sncewips Heritage Museum. Over the years, purported sightings of the creature became increasingly common but the meaning of the n ̓x̌ax̌aitkʷ gradually faded. “What is supposed to be a metaphor for taking care of the water and the people that are connected to it gets lost,” said Miller. “Now, this sacred water spirit has become a fishing derby mascot that sells apples, beef jerky and irrigation lines.” The controversy also speaks to broader questions across Canada over the appropriation of Indigenous storytelling: Ogopogo is by far the first cryptid to be transformed by non-Indigenous retelling. The Ojibwe wiindigoo was traditionally described as a giant, foul smelling creature with an insatiable appetite. Now known as the wendigo, it is is depicted as a wiry creature with antlers, used to sell brands of gin and tea. The Sasquatch – derived from the Halkomelem word ‘Sasq’ets’– has gone from being a cautionary tale for children to a lumbering forest ape named Bigfoot. Sightings in the wild persist, but nowadays it’s far more likely to be seen hawking snowshoes, beer, camper vans or beef jerky. “It’s outsiders choosing which aspect of our culture to elevate, not us. And often, they choose just the cheesiest interpretations of our cultures – and this becomes what we’re about,” said Robert Jago, a Kwantlen First Nation citizen and prominent writer on Indigenous issues. “I don’t think you can find [many] children in the Salish nation that know the name of their god. But 100% know the name Bigfoot.” The practice speaks to a broader trivialization of Indigenous culture, in which headdresses and sage that are sold as novelties despite pleas from Indigenous people, Jago said. “People treat these requests like an esoteric curiosity. They’re confused, they wonder what this could possibly be about,” said Jago. Ogopogo’s immense popularity as a marketing tool misses out on the important meanings behind the story of n’x̌ax̌aitkʷ, said Miller. After a one million dollar bounty was placed on the Ogopogo in the 1980s, Greenpeace declared the serpent an endangered species. But while the group focussed on the beast itself, they did not take action over pollution of the lake itself, he said. “We see diapers and beer cans being tossed into our lake,” said Miller. “And [Greenpeace] wanted to protect Ogopogo,” said Miller. “They were so close. They almost understood what needed to be protected.”

Welcome, Matt Doyle! I wish Matt could hop the pond and come over for Halloween. From the costume he wears when answering the door for trick-or-treaters, to his excellent taste in horror movies, we’d have a blast. New Hopeland was built to be the centre of the technological age, but like everywhere else, it has its dark side. Assassins, drug dealers and crooked businessmen form a vital part of the city’s make-up, and sometimes, the police are in too deep themselves to be effective. But hey, there are always other options … For P.I. Cassie Tam, business has been slow. So, when she’s hired to investigate the death of a local VR addict named Eddie Redwood, she thinks it’ll be easy money. All she has to do is prove to the deceased’s sister Lori that the local P.D. were right to call it an accidental overdose. The more she digs though, the more things don’t seem to sit right, and soon, Cassie finds herself knee deep in a murder investigation. But that’s just the start of her problems. When the case forces Cassie to make contact with her drug dealing ex-girlfriend, Charlie Goldman, she’s left with a whole lot of long buried personal issues to deal with. Then there’s her client. Lori Redwood is a Tech Shifter, someone who uses a metal exoskeleton to roleplay as an animal. Cassie isn’t one to judge, but the Tech Shifting community has always left her a bit nervous. That wouldn’t be a problem if Lori wasn’t fast becoming the first person that she’s been genuinely attracted to since splitting with Charlie. Oh, and then there’s the small matter of the police wanting her to back off the case. Easy money, huh? Yeah, right. Favorite Halloween costume as a child or adult? So, I actually cosplay quite regularly, and tend to build at least one new costume for a convention every year. The last two years, I’ve been reusing one particular costume for Halloween though: Renamon from the Digimon Tamers anime. I built this costume in 2014, and my word it was a tough one! I’d never built anything close to a fursuit before, so I was going into it with nothing but a handful of online tutorials as a guide. Then, my sewing machine broke before I could start putting it all together, and I ended up having to hand-stitch the entire thing. In terms of the convention, it’s my most successful costume by far; I had tons of photo requests (sometimes, I even had bigger lines than some of the celebrity guests), and made a couple of magazine appearances here in the UK as a result. I’ve worn the costume multiple times since, for everything from birthday parties to charity events. Halloween is my favourite time to break it out though, and for one reason: kids. Whether I’m walking around Trick or Treating with my youngest, or simply answering my front door to little ones who are themselves out and in costume, children love seeing a giant, cuddly, yellow fox standing in front of them. I get asked for high fives, hugs, photos … it’s fantastic, because you can see from the kid’s faces that they’re going to remember it for a long time to come. I love being able to help make positive memories like that. It does confuse the odd drunk person though. Best horror/thriller movie you’ve seen this year thus far? Hmm … I rarely get to see stuff when it’s new. I simply don’t have the time or money to do a lot of movie trips, so I end up waiting for DVDs and Blurays to appear and order them then. Even then though, I usually end up waiting for the price to come down a little. The upshot of that is that my top films this year aren’t exactly new. Picking one would be hard too, so I’m going to cheat and name two from each genre. - The Exorcist (Director’s Cut) – The Exorcist is so well regarded, and for good reason. We watch the film multiple times a year, but have previously stuck with the theatrical cut. This year, we finally picked up the anniversary edition on Bluray with both the theatrical and director’s cut. There are a lot of nice subtle touches in this cut but oddly, it’s not the infamous spider walk scene that stands out for me. It’s the ending. The extended ending actually feels a lot better to me, and it certainly helps set up The Exorcist III, which was based on another of William Peter Blatty’s books. Honestly, the only fault I can find in this is that, when you research him, the demon Pazuzu is actually pretty misrepresented in it. The way the demon behaves is actually more akin to the child and woman killing Lamashtu, whom Pazuzu was often invoked to counter. Even then though, the demon that possesses Regan feels more like Legion to me, which is actually broached in the third film. - The Conjuring 2 – James Wan is, in my eyes, a modern master of creepy. While I find it hard to pick between his Conjuring and Insidious franchises as a favourite, I’m going with the Conjuring sequel here for one reason: it’s close to home. The film is based on the well documented ‘Enfield Poltergeist’, which was a haunting that took place in Enfield, London between 1977 and 1979. The house is only a little over an hour from mine by car, and it’s a case that we’ve done a lot of reading about because it was so fascinating. Of course, the length of time that the haunting went on is perhaps more indicative of demon than poltergeist, but that’s another story. The film itself is sensationalised compared to the documented events (Sky Living’s ‘The Enfield Haunting’ in 2015 is actually closer as a dramatisation I believe), but it does such a wonderful job of escalating from creepy to in-your-face that it’s hard to criticize it. - A. Confidential – This 1997 classic is one of my favourite films. The main cast does a phenomenal job with it, and not one performance stands out as weak for me. The mystery itself takes us on a multi-layered, well-paced journey, and the conclusion is, while not entirely what you’d call a happy ending, satisfyingly realistic in the confines of the world it’s set in. In short, it’s as close to perfect as you can get in terms of thrillers, at least in my opinion. - The Warriors – I first saw this on VHS back when my Dad borrowed from a family friend. I was hooked form the get-go. To date, this is probably the film that I’ve watched the most out of all the ones that I own. I don’t really know what it is about it that I love so much … the story is fun, the slightly campy costumes are cool, there are some wonderfully quotable lines … but it’s hardly high cinema. Somehow though, it endures well enough for me that I’ve ended up watching it at least once every year since the late 1990’s. As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up? Oh man … I think that my original ambitions, back when I was a little kid, were professional wrestler and werewolf. The funny thing is, I actually succeeded, to a degree. And I mean that in both cases! No, I don’t howl at the moon (unless I’m feeling particularly playful), but between Renamon and my last cosplay (Inukai from the Flying Witch anime), I’ve certainly managed to be a canine-person for a few hours a year. The wrestling is where it’s at though. Way back when my age was only just hitting double digits, a lot of us used to play wrestle during break times in school. Then, back in 2001 (during my high school years no less), I took it to the next level and started training at NWA-UK Hammerlock’s wrestling school. Those were tough sessions; five and a half hours every Sunday, with very little in the way of breaks throughout. So many people came and went, largely because it either wasn’t what they expected with the focus on actual wrestling, or because it was tougher than they realized. I stuck it out though! During my time at Hammerlock, I got to appear on the same show as two of my old wrestling heroes too – Jake ‘The Snake’ Roberts and Jim ‘The Anvil’ Neidhart. And as to modern workers, I came through the same training group as Zack Sabre Jr and have worked with him many times, and I also worked on some of the same shows as Finn Balor back when he was Fergal Devitt. Over the ten years that I was involved, I did everything I could: wrestling, ring announcing, refereeing, booking shows, acting as a road agent, and even training people. They were good times. Biggest Horror/Thriller novel influence? This is an odd one for me because I tend to look to films and TV for inspiration in these genres. For example, when I wrote Addict, I came off the back of a film-binge of L.A. Confidential, Blade Runner and The Maltese Falcon. Other times, I’ll go to anime such as Ghost in the Shell and Psycho Pass. YouTube videos about different encounters that people have had are great for horror too. It’s an absolute mecca for paranormal and creepy stories. Of late, I’ve mostly been focusing on a mix of cryptids and sightings of ghosts and vampires. Are all the ‘real encounters’ truly real? Probably not. I do think that most of them likely encountered something, though it won’t always be what’s reported. I actually wrote a long piece giving my view of what the Dogman cryptid may actually be. Regardless though, there’s an absolute goldmine of inspiration out there. Even just listening out for similarities between tales and picking out common threads between different encounters with the same thing can be enlightening when it comes to research. Of course, I do read too though. Personally, I like stories that combine different genres. Take Urban Fantasy for example. Get the right book and you’ll get a nice mix of horror, thriller, and romance. Seeing them weaved together has always been an inspiration for me. Again, studies of true events always come across well, be they hauntings or crime studies. Comics can be a good source of inspiration too. Take Dark Horse’s Blacksad for example. It’s a collection of tales about John Blacksad, an anthropomorphic cat working as a PI in 1950’s America. The whole thing is essentially crime noir with some suitable political commentary on the period portrayed. Stan Lee actually described it as being ‘as good as it gets’. What are you working on now? Too much. Honestly, I’m always working on far too many things at once. Outside writing, there are the costumes and some art. If we’re looking outside stories specifically, there’s also my website, which is now up to five posts a week as a minimum. In terms of stories though, that’s where most of my time goes. Let’s see … - I’m finishing up my personal edits on the sequel to Addict before I submit it to the publisher. As a bonus, I’m also working on an illustrated guide to the Tech Shifting concept shown in Addict. - The third Cassie Tam is in the planning stages, so I’m currently mapping out the concepts and the mystery itself. - I’m editing FAHRN, a novella set after my original sci-fi duology, The Spark Form Chronicles. - I’m editing both Stoth and Xera, which are the third and fourth books in my MG/YA horror series ‘Teller Tales’. - I’m writing a couple of short stories with specific anthology calls in mind. - I’m planning a build your own adventure novel. I have a load of notes for other idea scattered about too, so they’ll turn into something soon enough and lumber me with a ton of other work, I’m sure. Do you have a favourite character you’ve created? Right now, it’s Cassie Tam. Sure, her being the primary focus of my work right now may be part of that, but there’s a lot to her that I really love working with. In a way, she’s a homage to pulp fiction detectives: she has a very rigid set of morals that she follows, and she will pursue them stubbornly once she has her eyes set on a particular outcome. If that means sleuthing and subtle manipulation, great. If that means less than subtly punching someone in the face, that’s fine too. It works so well because the world that she lives in is corrupt by default, so having that sort of attitude gives her the opportunity to be both at odds with the underlying movements of the city while still being so embroiled in the way it works herself that she can work with rather against the tide. The thing is, Cassie is incredibly flawed. She knows that her stubbornness and habit of digging will get her in trouble (it’s led to disaster for her in her past), but she does it anyway because she can’t get past the concept of following her own moral compass. She can also be a bit judgmental; her view of the Tech Shifting community is jaded at the onset, and her interactions with her client-cum-love-interest Lori really forces her into having to consider this. Then there are her views on VR junkies, the police in general, and the higher-ups in the city. She definitely has a habit of looking for negatives in people! Throw in her fun little quirks, like the fact she loves horror films but suffers from terrible nightmares every time she watches on, and she’s just so much fun to write about. She’s strong-willed, doesn’t put up with other people’s nonsense, fights for the right result, but is in many ways just as bad as the city she lives in anyway. When you’ve got a character that gives you that much to work with, it’s hard not to love them. That Cassie is a lesbian but her sexuality is simply a part of her character and not something that ever gets made into a big deal is something that I’m really happy with too. The Cassie Tam Files may feature a gay lead, but they aren’t coming out stories. They’re just sci-fi based crime stories that happen to feature a protagonist who isn’t heterosexual. Matt Doyle lives in the South East of England and shares his home with a wide variety of people and animals, as well as a fine selection of teas. He has spent his life chasing dreams, a habit which has seen him gain success in a great number of fields. To date, this has included spending ten years as a professional wrestler, completing a range of cosplay projects, and publishing multiple works of fiction. These days, Matt can be found working on far too many novels at once, blogging about anime, comics, and games, and plotting and planning what other things he’ll be doing to take up what little free time he has. - Website: http://www.mattdoylemedia.com - Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14173377.Matt_Doyle - Twitter: https://twitter.com/mattdoylemedia - Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MattDoyleMedia/ - Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Matt-Doyle/e/B0120Z5RFU - NineStar Press: https://ninestarpress.com/authors/matt-doyle/ - DeviantART: https://mattdoylemedia.deviantart.com/ - Google+: https://plus.google.com/105461183776248861486 - Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/mattdoylemedia/ - Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/mattdoylemediaprojects/ - Tumblr: https://mattdoylemedia.tumblr.com/ - RedBubble: https://www.redbubble.com/people/mattdoylemedia/shop I always did like Venetian blinds. There’s something quaint about them in a retro-tacky kinda way. Plus, they’re pretty useful for sneaking a peek out the front of the building if I feel the need. That’s something that you just can’t do with the solid, immovable metal slats that come as a standard in buildings these days. That said, a thick sheet of steel is gonna offer you a damn sight more security than thin, bendable vinyl, so I keep mine installed. Just in case. Another round of knocking rattles the front door, louder this time than the one that woke me. The clock says 23:47, and the unfamiliar low-end car out front screams “Don’t notice me, I’m not worth your time,” which makes for the perfect combo to stir up the paranoia that the evening’s beer and horror-film session left behind. This is my own fault. My adverts are pretty descriptive in terms of telling what I do: lost pets, cheating partners, theft, protection, retrieval of people and items, other odds and sods that the city’s finest won’t touch…I’ve got ways to deal with it all. That’s right, I’m a real odd-job gal. The one thing that I don’t put in there are business hours. The way I see it, even the missing pet cases usually leave me wandering the streets at half-past reasonable, so what’s the point in asking people to call between certain hours? More knocking, followed this time by the squeak of my letter box and a voice. “Hello? Cassandra Tam?” It’s funny, really. For all the tech advances that the world has made, no one has been able to improve upon the simple open-and-shut letter box. I stumble my way through the dark and wave dismissively at the frosted glass. The light switch and the keypad for the door lock are conveniently placed right next to each other on the wall to the right of the door, so welcoming my apparent guest is a nice, easy affair. The lock clicks a moment after the lights flood the room, and I pull the door open. “Cassie,” I say, turning and skulking my way back into the room. “Or Caz. Drop the Tam.” I hear a sniff behind me, and the lady from the letter box asks, “Are you drunk?” “If I pass out in the next five minutes, then yes,” I reply, turning the kettle on. I’d left it full, ready for the morning, but I guess this is close enough. “Take a seat at the table. Would you prefer tea or coffee? I’d offer beer, but since I reek of it, I guess I must’ve finished it.” Footsteps creep unapologetically across the room, and a chair squeaks on the floor. Good. If you can’t deal with a snarky response to something, don’t say it all, and if you can deal with it, then as far as I’m concerned you don’t need to apologise. “Coffee,” the lady says. “So, do you always see potential clients in your underwear, or is it just my lucky day?” Her voice has a slightly playful edge to it, but with a sarcastic kick to round it off. The business portion of my apartment comprises entirely of a small open-plan room separating my kitchen from my living room. And by open plan, I mean an allotted space that encroaches on both territories but is conveniently large enough to house what I need. Or, in other words, a table, four chairs, and nothing else. Since filing went near entirely digital, filing cabinets have pretty much become obsolete, so the two that I found dumped outside the building when I bought the place currently live in my bedroom, and contain a mix of quick access work stuff and personal files I’d rather not have floating on the net. Most things, though, I store electronically, the same as everything else. I rarely use the business table to eat, read, or any of that junk, so until this evening it’s been entirely empty for a good few weeks. The lady sitting there now is studying me, I can see, and probably wondering if this was a mistake. Whatever she may have expected, a Chinese-Canadian gal of average height in a cami top and a loose pair of sleep shorts most likely wasn’t it. For what it’s worth, though, I’m studying her just the same. She’s a lithe-looking thing, dressed in a casual pair of jeans and a plain black fitted top under a leather jacket. If the metal plugs running down her shaven head like a shiny, rubber-tipped Mohawk weren’t a giveaway for what she is, the light scarring punctuating the outer edges of her pale blue eyes certainly would be. She’s a Tech Shifter, and like most of her ilk, she looks like a punk rocker gone cyborg.

The cactus cat (KAK-tus/KAT) is a cryptid found in Baja Province. It resembles a large feline about the size of a bobcat with a spiky coat and a branching tail. However, it is not a mammal at all, but a fast-moving mobile cactus, which uses mimicry to look like a cat. The cactus cat does not put down roots. It obtains nutrients by slashing open normal cacti and drinking the sap, often waiting a day or two for the sap to ferment. Drinking heavily of this mezcal-like substance will intoxicate the cactus cat, which will then dance, stumble around, and make loud yowling sounds through the night. Cactus cats are green and can photosynthesize, but still require the sap of local cacti for nutrients. They have four feet, with razor-sharp claws, as well as a traditional cat’s face, with eyes, ears, a nose, a mouth, and spiky whiskers. These all seem to perform the same sensory functions as they do with an actual cat, allowing the cactus cat to see, hear, smell, and use the whiskers for balance and sizing. They do not appear to have any sense of taste. Cactus cats do not breathe as mammals do, but “inhale” carbon dioxide and “exhale” oxygen as part of photosynthesis. They are able to vocalize and their drunken night caterwauling is a memorable experience. They can also purr. Cactus cats do not have typical mammalian internal organs but possess a spongy interior similar to a cactus. They do not seem to feel pain but dislike and will resist being cut. Cactus cats also have an internal sap which is highly alcoholic and magical. Cactus cat sap (colloquially called “cat juice” or “catsap”) is supposed to be able to get one pleasantly drunk with just one sip; however, it causes a wicked hangover the next morning. It is a magical hangover, immune to all charms and attempts to dispel it. Cactus cats live in family groups in the wild, with both male and female alternating as leaders. Once the cactus kittens mature, they leave to form their own family groups. Cactus cats are fiercely protective of their space and mark their territories with scent. However, cactus cats from many different territories are known to congregate when drunk for a group yowl. Cactus cats can be kept as pets, and much like their mammalian counterparts, they enjoy resting in the sunlight and destroying houseplants. They cannot be trained, although they can be used as familiars. Their flowers can be harvested both as spell and alchemy components and as decoration. A juvenile cactus cat is called a cactus kitten. The collective noun for a family of cactus cats is a family. Groups larger than a family are called a cacophony. Cactus cats live in dry, arid areas with some native vegetation. They can commonly be found in the southwestern United States. They do not sleep, per se, but do rest from time to time in the sun. Internally, cactus cats resemble the cacti they feed on, however, they do have sensory organs on their face and a mass of tissue in the head area resembling a brain. They have sharp, retractable claws, and spines on their ‘pelt.’ Cactus cats reproduce sexually via pollination of a female cat’s flowers. Cactus cats photosynthesize and also drink the sap of native cacti. They do not drink each other’s sap. The spines of cactus cats may occasionally be used for wands, especially those being used for herbology and sun-related magic. Their flowers can be used in charms and ground into potions. Their sap can be used in potions as well, or drunk as a powerful alcoholic beverage. Cactus cats may be kept as pets or used as familiars. The sensory organs of cactus cats may be used in spells that require similar sensory organs, eyes for eyes and so forth, but they produced unpredictable results. Cactus cats typically do not attack unless defending their young and they have no natural fear of humans, often choosing to simply ignore those who pass through (as long as they keep moving). The chief weapons of the cactus cat are its razor-sharp claws and teeth and its spiked tail. Its spiny coat grants it an excellent defense against most physical attacks, and it is only vulnerable to plant (rather than animal) spells. The best way to befriend a cactus cat is to carry a flask of liquor, the closer to mezcal or tequila, the better. Drawn by the scent, cactus cats will actively come to you, drink the liquor and allow themselves to be petted and scratched. Watch out for the spines when you pet them.

Following the journey of Stella Starosta, who moves to the fictionalized Ontario town of Ladle in her final year of high school, Raptor Boyfriend: A High School Romance is an episodic romantic comedy with a dinosaur themed twist. Despite its conventional visual novel style gameplay, brilliant artwork, excellent writing and a cast of memorable cryptid characters cement Raptor Boyfriend as anything but. One of the most striking aspects of Raptor Boyfriend’s presentation is its distinctive art style. With beautiful hand-drawn backdrops, each of the environments you encounter throughout the game’s roughly six-hour runtime is consistently stunning. Good attention to detail and a palette of pastel shades keep even the most mundane scene, like a dingy school corridor or the side of a deserted country road, easy on the eyes and a visual treat to explore. The warm color scheme is comforting, perfectly complements the abundance of characteristic 1990s objects, like chunky TVs and antiquated answering machines, helping to create a tangible sense of nostalgia. Visually, everything exudes an indescribably inviting sense of small-town charm, with small buildings and plenty of trees littering the landscape, and I found myself quickly drawn in by the setting. The character art is similarly superb, with each of the three romanceable characters being particularly impressive. Although their animations are limited in a conventional visual-novel sprite-based style, the sheer amount of personality packed into each expression, outfit or pose is remarkable. Each still from the game wouldn’t look out of place in a full-color comic book and the fact you can tell a lot about each of their characters by simply looking at them makes it much easier for players to choose which romance route they want to pursue. The supporting characters, who occasionally appear on screen, are admittedly a little more basic in their designs but this was likely a deliberate choice so as not to distract from the central cast. Alongside character mouth movement as text appears on screen, there are a number of stylish on-screen effects, like smooth side-by-side transitions, which add a little variety in the presentation to help keep interactions feeling fresh. The Raptor in the Room Judging solely by the title ‘Raptor Boyfriend’, I was half-expecting the game’s writing to be the typical self-aware satirical visual novel fare. What I found, however, was one of the most earnestly written, heartwarming, and enjoyable stories I’ve experienced this year. Narrated by Stella, who is recounting the year's events to her therapist/teddy bear, it presents an intimate portrayal of teenage friendships and awkward high-school romance. Despite the obvious implausibility of dating a dinosaur, or the other members of this supernatural society for that matter, dialogue is surprisingly ground and very believable. After the chaos of the last two years, I very much appreciated reliving many of the staples of high-school life through the comforting nostalgia of numerous awkward romantic encounters, a handful of sleepovers, and, of course, that one pointless group project. Where comedy is present it’s used sparingly and effectively. Comedy may be subjective, but I found the occasional in-character sarcastic remark or well-timed situational joke far more amusing than the bombardment of self-aware shock humor that I was expecting. This approach helped the genuinely heartwarming moments, of which there are many, land without a total tonal dissonance. I was also impressed by the frank and believable portrayal of social anxiety, from which the protagonist suffers, and it quickly had me invested in her success. Reasons to Revisit From a gameplay perspective, there are three possible routes to completion, each centered around one of the romanceable characters. Robert the raptor, Day the fae, and Taylor the sasquatch were all equally compelling options for me, and on replays, I found each of the potential avenues presented a good level of variety. Even if you’re not the kind of person to play a game more than once, each of the characters has their own troubles and secrets which are hinted at in other routes to almost irresistibly entice you in. For completionists, the presence of collectibles in the form of comic strips, cassette tapes, and poems, which can be gained from picking dialogue options based on details you have remembered about characters, also provides a good justification to jump back in. Unfortunately, in the 15 hours, I spent with the game completing the three routes I found that the music, despite being excellent in isolation, became a little repetitive. Thanks to the strength of the writing and visuals you generally don’t feel the game’s long length but I would have still appreciated maybe one or two new background tracks here and there to add a little auditory variety to repeat runs. Raptor Boyfriend Review - Everything I Could Have Wanted Raptor Boyfriend: A High School Romance was definitely not the game I was expecting, but it was the one I needed. Packed with great characters, fantastic writing, and a constant nostalgic 1990s charm Raptor Boyfriend is a breath of fresh air and a visual novel that fans of the genre should not miss. A copy of Raptor Boyfriend: A High School Romance for PC was provided to TechRaptor by the publisher. The game is available on Steam and Itch. - Charming Writing and Beautiful Artwork - Memorable Setting and Diverse Cast of Characters - An Excellent Length with Reasons to Replay - Music Becomes Repetitive with Extended Play

The Matrix movie series became one of the most revolutionary works of art in Hollywood. It became a classic and it has since become the subject of internet memes and movements alike by its pro-humanity, anti-authoritarian message. Keanu Reeves is a real-life heroism and makes his role as Neo that much more incredible at the center of this silver-screen revolution. He is having a huge heart and it’s been easy for him to distance himself from the dark side of Hollywood. Reeves has been recognized at anywhere not only in photo opportunity pr stunts but also in real life situations as a genuine good person. Redditors have compiled a list of testimonials from people who claim their lives have been touched by Reeves and noted ten times this Hollywood legend has lived up to the “Bill and Ted’s” motto of “be excellent to each other.” 1. REEVES WOULD ROUTINELY BUY LUNCH FOR ALL THE WORKERS ON THE SETS OF HIS MOVIES. “Back in the late 90s and fresh out of college I got my first job as an assistant prop designer on the set of Chain Reaction (Keanu was a supporting actor with Morgan Freeman). EVERY DAY for the last few weeks of filming, Keanu treated the stage hands and “grunt workers” (including myself) by taking us out for free breakfast and lunch. He was genuinely a very nice guy to work with. “Since then, I’ve worked on about 30 different sets and have never met an actor as generous and friendly as him. Most actors I’ve seen and worked with are total douches who always think they are better than us. Keanu on the other hand, at the very least, was socially approachable and definitely kindhearted. 2. REEVES REPORTEDLY GAVE $20,000 TO A CREW MEMBER OF THE MATRIX BECAUSE HE KNEW HE WAS HAVING FAMILY TROUBLE. According to kahi, “A family friend builds movie sets, doesn’t design, is one of the poor dudes that just builds. Anyways he worked on the set for the Matrix and Keanu heard about family trouble he was having and gave him a $20,000 Christmas bonus to help him out. He also was one of the only people on the set that genuinely wanted to know peoples names, would say hello and mean it, and would talk to people as they were his peers and not below him just because they were practically making nothing to build a set. I’ve never heard anyone say Keanu is douche, seems like the nicest person in Hollywood from a second hand experience.” – kahi 3. REEVES WAS REPORTED TO HAVE DRIVEN A WOMAN 50 MILES OUT OF HIS WAY BECAUSE HER CAR BROKE DOWN. Lovemyax said, “A friend of mine told me that she was once stranded on the side of a highway outside LA when her jalopy broke down. She had no cell phone (that was before most people had cell phones) and no way to call for help. Then a nice black porsche pulls over and as you can guess, it was Keanu. He tried to help her jump start the car and when it didn’t work, he called AAA for her. When they towed her car, he offered her to drive her home, which she accepted. He drove about 50 miles out of his destination just to drive her home. She told me she hoped he would hit on her but he didn’t, he was just a gentleman, dropped her at her house, gave her his phone number and told her to call him if she needed further help.” 4. REEVES WAS ALLEGED TO HAVE BOUGHT HARLEY DAVIDSON MOTORCYCLES FOR THE ENTIRE SPECIAL EFFECTS CREW ON THE MATRIX. “I had a few friends working special effects jobs on the Matrix movies, he bought all of them fucking HARLEYS for Christmas during the shoot for the second one. “One of those guys, Paul, said that Keanu was the most sincere, humble and lovely dude he’d ever met. Said he eschewed contact with the cast in favour of hanging out with the crew, was the only guy the martial arts coaches respected out of the whole cast, and was the bravest man he’s ever met. That scene in the first Matrix film, the assault on the office tower lobby – Keanu turned down earplugs for all the charges blowing everywhere taking ‘bullet holes’ out of pillars, walls etc, just for authenticity. When he turns and hides behind a pillar which explodes with bullets hitting it on both sides, Paul said ‘the entire crew was about 15 metres away, with ear protection, and all flinching anyway when the charges blew – Keanu just took it like a complete badass.’” 5. WHEN HE’S NOT BUYING PEOPLE THINGS, GIVING THEM RIDES, OR STARTING A REVOLUTION, HE IS A GENUINELY NICE PERSON WHO MAKES EVERYONE AROUND HIM HAPPY. “My brother works at a coffee shop in New York, it’s got pretty alright coffee but the real draw is that they roast their own beans and all the beans are sucked through pneumatic tubes into a machine that grinds and brews all at once. It’s a bunch of bells and whistles, and doesn’t necessarily make for the best coffee ever. Anyway, Keanu comes into the store and orders a coffee, asks my brother how the whole system works and immediately after he finishes, he pauses, looks surprised and says ‘Whoa.’ It was perfect. And it seemed like he was actually interested and impressed by the fancy nature of the coffee shop.” 6. REEVES STANDS ACCUSED OF BEING A REGULAR GUY, WHO LIKES TO CHILL AND WHO MAY ALSO BE A MYTHOLOGICAL BEING. “So my neighbor was out camping and met Keanu Reeves who was also camping (I guess he likes dogs because he came up and said ‘I love these dogs!’ about her rottweiler) and she said she thought she was crazy for a minute because no one else knew he was there and it turns out Keanu was just there chilling with a one-man tent and a cooler and his little Dodge car and every time someone looked at him he’d just turn his face away and it’s kind of just solidified in my mind that Keanu Reeves is a cryptid.” Even though the above testimonials could be mere rumors of him, they are backed up by some of the examples below as Reeves was captured on video and in images being a great person. 7. REEVES WAS CAPTURED ON VIDEO SIMPLY BEING A FRIEND TO A HOMELESS MAN. While Reeves was spotted hanging out with a homeless person in 1997, one of the most famous stories was happened. He was just staying on the streets of Hollywood and met upon this man. He was really interested in what the man had to say and then he shared some drinks, snacks, and listened to the man’s stories, even lying down on his back. All this conversation was noticed by some paparazzis. 8. REEVES PUT HIS OWN MONEY BACK INTO THE MATRIX MOVIES SO HE COULD ENSURE THE EMPLOYMENT OF THE CREW. There’s a false rumor that Keane gave tens of millions to the crew of Matrix. That’s not true, but he makes deals to take lower payments to have jobs for the employees of the movie. Keanu Reeves has never written a personal check to anyone as Roger Friedman explained. He put some of his money back into the franchise the back-end deal basically to ensure that the special effects and costume crew could continue working on the franchise for the duration of the trilogy. It’s more like what Keanu did on The Devil’s Advocate and The Replacements, which was to give up part of his asking price so that the studio could afford to hire Al Pacino and Gene Hackman in those respective films. 9. THE HOLLYWOOD LEGEND HAS BEEN RECORDED GIVING UP HIS SEAT ON THE SUBWAY—BECAUSE HE’S A GENTLEMAN. Other Hollywood stars never be caught riding a subway, but there are some who reportedly so arrogant that even if they had to ride on the subway, they would likely never give up their seat. But Keanu Reeves was not like that. Reeves once jumped out of his seat to give it to a woman who’d just boarded the train, but it’s not a PR stunt. 10. REEVES WOULD RATHER WAIT IN THE RAIN THAN INCONVENIENCE OTHERS OR CAUSE A SCENE. According to Page Six reported at the time: Keanu Reeves was more like his chill character from “Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure” than any pampered movie star Friday when he waited patiently in the rain for 20 minutes to get into his own wrap party for “Daughter of God.” Chauffeur Ronny Sunshine — once known as the “Mad Limo Czar” for driving bands including The Beatles, he claims — was also on the scene outside Chelsea lounge the Leonora. “Keanu was really patiently waiting,” the driver told us. “I don’t think he said anything to the bouncer, like, ‘I’m Keanu.’ No one recognized him.” Sunshine added: “Keanu looks very ordinary. It was raining, but he just waited for his two friends to come. He didn’t act like he had money. I just thought he was a rock ’n’ roller.” The club’s owner Noel Ashman told us: “I didn’t know he was kept waiting, and he didn’t say anything to me.” He added, “He’s a very relaxed person.” Once inside, Reeves even announced from the DJ booth he’d found another guest’s credit card on the ground and wanted to return it. Totally excellent!

Needless to say, some fans were not pleased (though it still has its followers) and the show only ran two seasons (only one of which was new episodes) before being sent to reruns. In the late 70's and 80's, select cartoons from this show were routinely mixed in with the classic theatrical shorts in local UHF stations' airings of Tom and Jerry cartoons; and even today, they are sometimes mixed in with other Tom and Jerry shorts that play on Cartoon Network and Boomerang (often also incorporating shorts from the 1980 Filmation series). Another show with the same title was made in 2014 and aired on Cartoon Network coming on the heels of 2006's Tom and Jerry Tales. Unlike previous shows, this show was made with Adobe Flash but otherwise follows the usual formula of the series. Hanna-Barbera would later go on to make another Tom and Jerry series in 1990, entitled Tom & Jerry Kids. Tropes found in the original 1975 The Tom and Jerry Show: - Animation Bump: The animation for the syndicated opening is noticeably smoother than that of the first-run series. - Continuity Nod: It may be considered this for those that recall some of the older shorts where Tom and Jerry worked together happily. As it certainly didn't originate in this show. - Cryptid Episode: - Bigfoot tracks are actually left by a diminutive hillbilly hermit who lives all alone because he's tired of people making fun of his giant feet. - The "never before photographed, fuzzy-feathered Pipsquacker Bird" might also count. - Flat Joy: In an episode from the 1975 series, Robin Hood (here called Robin Ho Ho) tries to get his Merry Men to laugh, and they all respond with a mirthless "ha ha ha...ho ho ho...hee hee hee." This kind of laugh becomes the Running Gag of the whole episode right up to the end, when the Merry Men break out of this habit and have a truly joyous laugh at Robin Hood's expense. - Friendly Rivalry: The titular duo in many cases. - Lighter and Softer: There's little to no violence and the main duo were friends instead of the enemies they were in the originals. This was due to the series being made in The '70s, when animation aimed at children was heavily policed by Moral Guardians, and the older, more violent cartoons were Bowdlerized to hell and back. This didn't change until the advent of Merchandise-Driven cartoons in The '80s. - Miles Gloriosus: In "The Super Cape Caper", Super Cape is a cowardly expy of Superman, so Tom and Jerry try to boost his confidence. - Repetitive Audio Glitch: From the episode "Cosmic Cat and Meteor Mouse", Tom and Jerry both disguise themselves as the titular superheroes and visit the bulldog whose beauty sleep is being interrupted by their watching the titular show, with both characters lip-syncing to a record playing out the voices of the superheroes. The bulldog catches on that he's being duped when the record player hidden behind Tom's back skips on "Cosmic Zinger", and so he decides to fix them by having the record player speed up so that Tom and Jerry are lip-syncing faster and at a higher pitch. - Running Gags: After many mishaps and plenty of damage done to the ship (it sinks 5 times!) - Show Within a Show: Cosmic Cat and Meteor Mouse, from the episode of the same name. The characters even appear outside their television show to give the bulldog a taste of their (real) power in order to defend Tom and Jerry who want to peacefully watch their show. - Strictly Formula: Outside the changes to Tom and Jerry, the show stuck to the usual formula of Tom and Jerry competing over things or when they're not competing, being friends, and when there is a villain, the duo often runs from them. - Superhero Episode: "Cosmic Cat and Meteor Mouse" and "The Super Cape Caper". - Took a Level in Kindness: The main duo, to the point of no recognition.

Head on down to the Eden Project this half term for some spooktacular family fun for Halloween. Halloweden is a great day out for all the family. If you follow GinGin & Roo on Instagram then you’ll know we absolutely love going to the Eden Project. It’s one of our regular haunts. There’s always something new and exciting to see, no matter the season or the weather. Plus the Eden team are pretty creative when it comes to putting on a show. And they’re masters at blending together education and fun activities. It’s a place I’ve recommended before for great family days out in Cornwall. And so you can probably guess that we’ve been along to enjoy Halloweden a couple of times already this half term. “Go to Eden!” This is always Roo’s answer whenever I ask her what she’d like to do today. She marches round the biomes like she owns them. And she’s been down the slide in the Core more times than I can count. Both girls love going to the Eden Project. And so do I. Enjoy the Outdoors There’s masses to see and do this Halloween at Eden. But don’t just rush in straight down to the biomes. Take your time to walk round the outside too. The plants are so beautiful during autumn, so do make sure you fill your senses with the riotous colours and seasonal fragrances of the garden walkways too. If you’re lucky, you might still see some bees and butterflies zipping round before the cold weather sets in. There are lots of fun and exciting things to look out for once you’ve reached the heart of Eden. Things to look out for include: - Ice Skating – this has an additional cost to the entry fee but you can go in and watch the skaters for free. There’s a cafe at the ice rink so you can grab a hot drink if it’s chilly. - Potion Making – totally free! Think of what magic spell you’d like to cast and get busy making the potion. Do you want to fly, be invisible, shrink down to the size of a mouse? It’s all possible if you get your potion mixture just right! - Pumpkin Carving – okay so you don’t get given your own pumpkin to carve – boo! – but you can watch the experts and be inspired by the wonderfully creative carvings they make. Honestly it’s like some sort of wizardry! - Creepy Hollow – this was probably GinGin’s fave part. For some reason kids like to stick their hands in gooey things. So let them fill their boots feeling around the slime and gunk for rats, eyeballs, worms and all sorts of other gruesome things! - Web Weaving – if you’re good at crafts then you’ll love this. If you’re not so good at crafts then there are some lovely Eden people prepared to give you a helping hand. Sticks and wool – who knew they could provide so much fun? - Owl Encounters – the brilliant people from the Screech Owl Sanctuary bring along some of their fabulous owls everyday. Make sure you say hello to “Froggy” if he’s there! - Storytelling – be wowed and fascinated by the excellent storytellers, suitable for kids of all ages! - Face Painting – again this has an extra cost, but you can find the very talented face-painting artists in the Core. Turn your cute little pumpkin into a cute little pumpkin 🙂 - Cryptid Petting Zoo – this is brilliant! Come face to face with rare, mythical creatures and learn all about them from their specially trained handlers. - Beast Walkabout – GinGin loved meeting Missy, the six-year-old beast who’s favourite foods are apples and mangos! Roo on the other hand was not quite so keen. In fact she did scream and cry. But she did calm down after a couple of minutes and even managed a shy wave hello – from a distance! One more thing you should definitely look out for is the new installation of the Eden Project’s gold-winning Chelsea Flower Show exhibition. You’ll find it in the Mediterranean biome. It’s all about the Campaign for Female Education in Africa (CAMFED). And it’s awesome! I don’t want to say too much more, because I don’t want to spoil your own visit to Eden this Halloween. But here are a few pics I took of the girls enjoying all the spooky fun this half term. If you like this post then you might enjoy these to: - Discover This Hidden Gem: Places to Visit in Cornwall - How To Make Your Kid’s Christmas Extra Special This Year - A Must-Go Place in Cornwall (Part II) Why not follow us on Instagram too 🙂

I asked y’all for suggestions as to what to draw the other day and have decided to completely ignore your responses… for now. Instead, I’m working on another calendar: The Cryptid Calendar! These are the critters I’ve done so far (most of which I already had lying around): That’s eight! Based on my advanced mathematical skillz, that means I’m only missing four months! Woot. So, which cryptids should I draw to finish the calendar? I put together a list, which I turned into a poll, so you can vote. The four with the most votes will go on my crytid calendar. If I did it right, you’re allowed four choices per person, so go vote for your favorites! You’re also welcome to write in your own answer if I forgot one.

“It is my first time to see Korean books in a library!” an elated Donggi Jun said when he saw the shelves of books in his native Korean, a part of the World Languages Collection Ngā Reo o te Ao / World Languages, Auahatanga | Creativity, Level 4 of Tūranga. Jun hails from South Korea but has been a Christchurch resident for years. “I’m so happy to see lots of popular authors. A lot of us miss our country. These books will be a source of comfort,” added the 58-year-old who also renewed his library membership card so he can start borrowing Korean books “as often as I can”. Jun is only one of many migrants who were delighted to see the World Languages Collection since Tūranga opened on Friday 12 October. The collection aimed to reflect the thriving cultural diversity of Christchurch. It enables migrant communities to maintain a connection with their language and culture, as well as provide study materials for English language learners. Olivier Hoel, who left France to work in Christchurch a year ago, was thankful to find his beloved French titles housed at Tūranga: “It was a great surprise when I saw them first at Peterborough Library and now, they’re here, more accessible in a such a lovely place.” Visitors to the city were equally impressed. “We are in the wrong city! How come you have this!?” a South African visiting from Wellington exclaimed while lifting an edition of the Afrikaans magazine Rooi rose from the rack. She was also able to find a book in the Afrikaans section written by a friend, quickly getting a snapshot for Instagram. German tourist Horst Schnidt was also pleased. Looking up from reading the pages of German periodical Der Spiegel, he commented, “This new library is in itself amazing. But having items in various languages like German makes it more special.” The collection has been well-used. An average of 30 items are being marked “used” every day, at times peaking up at 50. This doesn’t include the many more being borrowed. Many customers also joined the library or renewed their membership (like Jun) just to access the collection. ESOL tours have proven to be quite popular as well. Over 350 individuals from various cultural backgrounds have been toured around Tūranga since its opening and shown World Languages materials (adult and children’s) including the eResources they can access from the library website. Among them were students from Hagley Community College, Papanui High School (Adult ESOL Department), and Wilkinson’s English School. “The ESOL items are a big help to me,” said Chinese student Rita Xu who was also thrilled to see the Chinese books section, the most extensive in the collection. “My friends will be happy. I will tell them about it.” The collection, however, is not only popular with English language learners but also with students of other languages. For instance, German language students from Hagley College were keen on the German books and magazines that could aid them master German. No doubt, the World Languages Collection in Tūranga is a hit. As Anne Scorgie from South Africa puts it, “Having this collection shows that Christchurch is really now recognising its growing diversity. It’s a great step.” Several years ago now, I bought Mystic and the Midnight Ride by Stacy Gregg as a Christmas present for Miss Missy, my daughter. We read our way through all the Pony Club Secrets books as I (and other members of my family) bought them for her as Christmas and birthday presents. Miss Missy quickly become a huge Stacy Gregg fan (seriously, just the other day we were chatting about favourite authors, and Miss Missy said, “Jacqueline Wilson and J.K. Rowling are great of course, but Stacy Gregg is the author I’ve been the most obsessed with.”) I even persuaded my twenty-something year old brother to get a signed copy when Stacy attended Storylines in Wellington. He willingly, if somewhat embarrassedly, stood in line with a crowd of young pony-mad girls to get her signature. Miss Missy was very excited when, a few years later, Stacy visited Christchurch Storylines, and willingly signed the rest of her entire collection of books (there are a lot!!) We sent Stacy a photo of Miss Missy’s dedicated Stacy Gregg shelf, which Stacy then shared on her blog—super cool! So I sort of feel as though I’ve been with Stacy Gregg from the start. I’ve enjoyed all the books I’ve read (though I haven’t kept up with them all, I have to admit). I loved The Diamond Horse, and have just finished The Fire Stallion. I think it’s my favourite book so far, although I’m now reading The Princess and the Foal, which I didn’t read at the time when Santa gave it to Miss Missy — I think it might be my favourite too. First of all, what gave you the idea of writing about Brunhilda? I was fascinated to learn a little about her, and about Viking girls. I’m curious: Did you like the story of Sleeping Beauty when you were little? What were your favourite fairytales? I think my favourite fairytales were always the creepy ones. Hansel and Gretal hanging in a cage in the witch’s living room while she fattened them for the pot, wolves eating grandmothers whole, that kind of thing. The romantic ones left me cold. Brunhilda is all kinds of mythic and historic figures. Yes, she’s the origin story of the Sleeping Beauty myth, and she’s also the Queen of the Valkyries from Wagner’s Ring Cycle, and she’s the Icelandic Princess who is central to Snorri Sturluson’s Eddic poem. There are different versions of her throughout time – this is the update in which Bru reclaims her power and stops waiting for true love’s kiss to wake her. I don’t think girls have time for that anymore. Brunhilda and her brother had some pretty serious sibling rivalry, and so did Anna Orlov and her brother. Do you have any brothers and sisters? If so, did you fight with them a lot? I know! What’s my problem with siblings? You would swear I have a brother that I hate like poison. In fact I have just one sibling, a sister, and we get on famously – although we did fight like cat and dog when I was a kid so I do understand that complexity of being rivals I guess. I was surprised by some of the things I read about the Vikings in your book. What was the most fascinating thing about Vikings that you learned while you were researching the book? In the past I’ve written books with historical narratives anchored in the time of Empress Catherine the Great in Russia, Queen Isabella and Christopher Columbus in Spain and the Italian Civil War, but this one with Vikings was definitely the most fun yet. They had such a brutal and noble way of viewing the world and their pantheon of gods is so nutty, so there’s a lot of Norse mythology in this book – Thor, Odin and Loki all make an appearance and I really enjoyed researching them. And of course travelling to Iceland and visiting Thingvellir – standing on the Law Rock where the Viking counsel held their AGM – that was very inspiring. The landscape of Thingvellir is spectacular – it’s the shooting location for everything “Beyond the Wall” in Game of Thrones – so dramatic and beautiful. What did you enjoy most about Iceland? How cold was it when you were there? You’ve been to Russia too; do you enjoy the cold? I had originally planned to go to Iceland in December until I realised that it would be too wintry – Iceland only has a couple of hours of daylight a day in that month. By the time I went it was spring – which meant minus five degrees during the day. I really feel the cold so I pretty much lived in a massive duvet-like Canada goose jacket the whole time I was there, sometimes teamed with fleece lined overalls. So no, I don’t theoretically like the cold, and yet I would say that Iceland and Russia are my two favourite places that I’ve ever been. Russia for the food (I know! Who would have thought?) and Iceland is just so outrageously beautiful. The next book is set in Berlin and Poland I’ve just been there on a research trip and it was freezing too! I need to start writing in warmer places. What’s the weirdest things you’ve eaten in your travels? And what is your favourite food? Fermented Greenland Shark is the iconic traditional food in Iceland. In my book Hilly explains how you take the shark, which is totally toxic if eaten fresh, and crush the poison out by burying the shark under boulders on the beach for a month. All of which is true. By all accounts it tastes disgusting. I never gave it a go because the Icelandic people told me it’s just for tourists now – the Vikings ate it out of necessity. Puffins are on the menu for tourists too – they catch them in giant butterfly nets and they taste a bit like muttonbird apparently. I didn’t eat them either on the grounds that they are too cute. I did eat reindeer carpaccio at an amazing hotel called the Ranga down on the southern coast which is the best place to see the Northern Lights. And in Russia my favourite meal was probably raw mince with raw quails eggs and pickles. I thought I was ordering a burger at the time but it turned out to be amazing. What’s the most exciting thing you’ve been able to do because of being an author? I was incredibly lucky when I was working on The Princess and the Foal to be given full access by Princess Haya’s staff to do my research in Jordan. I spent time at the royal palace where she grew up and spoke to people who’d known her as a little girl. I visited the royal stables and rode Arabian horses in the desert and floated in the Dead Sea and ate amazing food and was made to feel so welcome. Afterwards, when the book was published in Arabic, I did a book tour in Beirut fell in love with the place. It’s a really liberal Middle Eastern society there, with a strong French influence to the food – again it’s all about the food! I’m wading my way through various titles on Hitler – the new book is set partly in Berlin from 1939-45. I haven’t struck one book yet though that has gripped me. I try not to read when I’m writing as I’m a terrible mimic and I adopt other people’s styles too easily so I have to read in the gaps between writing. The last book I read was Paul Cleave’s The Cleaner and I’m onto the sequel – Joe Victim. Cleave is very dark and very funny and Joe is my favourite psychopath since Patrick Bateman in American Psycho. Did you enjoy English when you were at school? What was your favourite subject? I loved English. But I always tell kids that if they want to be writers it’s not all about getting the best marks in class because sometimes within the school system I’m not entirely sure being creative is rewarded. Passing exams is about ticking the boxes not thinking outside them. I also think that grammar skills don’t really get taught in English at school. I didn’t really learn how to use apostrophes until I was working on newspapers as a journalist. I learnt my writing skills being chastised by sub-editors. As a consequence I think my copy is very clean now and my editors don’t have to correct much. The most important thing you can do if you want to write is read, and think critically about the work you are reading and then try and utilise what you’ve learnt in your own writing. Do you (as an adult) read pony books by other authors? No. I read the “Jill” books by Ruby Ferguson as a girl. I don’t read any modern pony fiction and I guess now I don’t really consider my books to be pony fiction. I think of them more as far-flung epic action adventures that just happen to feature girls and horses. Are there any authors that you’d recommend to girls who’ve read all your books and are wondering what to read next? I think I’m more in the vein of adventure – I write for strong, brave independent-minded readers who aspire to be heroes. I’d probably be inclined to point them towards male authors who occupy similar terrain – like Rick Riordan or Michael Morpurgo. I’m not a girly writer, despite the glitter on the jackets. Blaze from Pony Club Secrets always reminded me of another pony called Blaze from a picture book Billy and Blaze by C.W. Anderson which I loved as a child. How do you come up with all the names for the horses in your books? Oh it was really hard to name the horses in the Pony Club Secrets series! That’s because the name of the horse features in the title. And often in real life a horse is given a human name – our horse for instance is called Cam, and he shares a paddock with a horse called Dennis. But you can’t really have a title like “Dennis and the Golden Trophy” because it gets confusing. Who is Dennis? Is he human or horse? So the horses have to have ‘horsey’ names like Blaze and Fortune and Storm. Although Pony Club Secrets is set in New Zealand, when I was reading the books, I thought it seemed like a slightly English version of New Zealand. Did you do this on purpose? Well the books were always intended for the UK market and my publishers HarperCollins are based in London so it kind of naturally evolved to be slightly a combination of the two countries which I think works. Do you have a favourite horse colour? I like a really bright bay or a very rich golden dun with black points. Although lately all the horse-protagonists in my books seem to wind up being grey for some reason. Do you have a favourite character (girl and or horse!) from your books? I am totally besotted with the two girls in my new book, The Fire Stallion. Especially my Viking princess Brunhilda (Bru for short). Bru is so sword-wielding and stoic and yet she’s still sensitive and devoted beyond all else to her horse. She’s a hero in the true mythic sense and she just sort of leapt onto the page right from the start and gripped me by the throat and said “let’s do this”. I want to be her. Did you have a pony when you were young? Can you tell us about your first horse? I had to beg my parents for years. They were convinced I was going through a phase. When I finally did get a pony (her name was Bonnie) they didn’t have a clue what to do. Neither did I although I was convinced I was a genius. I was very lucky that they enrolled me in pony club. My sister rode too and we competed every weekend but we never had starry ponies and we wore homemade jackets and jodhpurs held up with safety pins. My daughter was lucky to have a horsey mum I think, and also times have changed and everything is so much swisher now than it was back then – there’s so much gear to buy and the horses are so fancy now. Cam is actually my daughter’s horse but I’m lucky I get to ride him quite a lot at the moment as she’s busy working on Power Rangers! Do you have a special place where you write your books? The Fire Stallion is dedicated in part to the Sea Breeze Café in Westmere – which is where I am sitting right now answering these questions. I’ve just bought a new apartment and also a new desk in the hope that I can spend more time writing at home in future. You were a journalist before you became an author. What did you like most about that job? I loved the variety. I did everything from features and fashion so one day I’d be interviewing Donna Awatere Huata and the next I’d be down at Mount Ruapehu because it was erupting and then I’d be in Sydney for a Louis Vuitton launch eating fancy canapes and drinking champagne. Journalism taught me so many skills that I use all the time – I research in the same way now that I did back then and I’m pretty fearless about bowling up to people that I need to talk to and asking them the right questions. Plus I can hammer out a super-huge word count under time pressure. It’s also the reason today I like to work in a café – it reminds me of the buzz of the newsroom. Did you always want to be an author? Totally! I just didn’t think it was a realistic expectation. I mean riding horses and writing – it doesn’t sound like a real job does it? What is the best thing about being an author? Everything. I love the freedom of it, creating your own routines. The flipside is that it’s a very uncertain profession. You have to have a bit of steel in you to get through the phase when you’ve been working on a manuscript for three or four months and no one has seen it yet and you’ve hoping it’s as good as the last one and that you’ll be able to continue to pay the rent. That sort of existence is not for the faint hearted. Do you think being a journalist has made you a better writer? Absolutely – although I was always a “style writer”. I did features, not hard news reporting. I never actually went to journalism school – I don’t think I would have survived that environment of nuts and bolts reporting. I managed to pester my way into a job at More Magazine and I learnt from the editors I worked for – Lindsey Dawson, Warwick Roger, Paula Ryan, Donna Chisholm, Wendyl Nissen, Stephen Stratford, Steve Braunias. It was an education. What advice would you give to someone who wants to be an author? You need a back-up career – books are a slow business and even once I was getting published with Pony Club Secrets it took about three years for the royalties to begin coming in. The average author in the UK earns two thousand pounds a year. In New Zealand I’d think it’s probably about the same. If you are determined to do it, look at the market and do your research and think about your career as a big picture, not just one book. And then write. And rewrite. And get your manuscript into perfect shape before you approach agents to take you on – you’ll only get one chance to impress them so the work needs to be tight. What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you? What? In my entire whole life? Like I’m going to tell you that! I am mortified by things all the time that I do and I have no memory of my victories but a long memory for all the times I’ve been a twit. My days as a fashion editor left me open to daily embarrassment. I was at the Viktor and Rolf show at the Tuileries in Paris and I was allocated a seat in Row Z but I was so busy chatting to my friend Lisa Armstrong who was front row I didn’t realise I was single-handedly holding up the runway show because Vogue editor Anna Wintour couldn’t get past me to get to her seat. Her people had to move me on. That was a bad moment. Lastly, where did you get those amazing silver boots you wore to WORD? Do you have lots of shoes? When the Sunday Star-Times first launched their magazine “Sunday” I was their fashion editor and I had a column called Shoe of the Week. So yeah, it was a work-related hazard that I developed a shoe obsession. The silver boots are Balenciaga and despite the fact that they look crazy to walk in they are super comfortable. They were also nose-bleed inducingly expensive. They have since been surpassed on my latest London/Berlin trip by a pair of black patent Prada stilettos and some furry Birkenstocks that make me look like an Ewok. I shall have to write a lot of books to pay for them…. The Fire Stallion by Stacy Gregg is available now ($24.99 RRP, HarperCollins) The Fire Stallion by Stacy Gregg Published by HarperCollins New Zealand 2018 has been a stunning year for me when we talk about books and reading, and here’s a selection of recreational non-fiction titles that I have enjoyed in the back half of 2018 and that you too can enjoy over the New Zealand summer season! I was lucky enough to see/hear Philip Hoare speak at this year’s Word Christchurch festival, and it was the realisation of a dream that I didn’t know I had – to meet the man who has had me mesmerised with his writing about the sea and natural science too often to count. Philip Hoare writes of the sea in such powerful and beautiful language. This particular book is his own graceful exploration of whales, their place in our world, our human history interacting with them, and the perils that they face at the hands of humanity and environmental changes. A book to read slowly, embracing every sentence for its beauty and poetic brilliance. In completely the other direction, 2018 was the year I discovered this book from long ago – Wisconsin Death Trip This book is a surreal journey about the real events surrounding the town of Black River Falls, Wisconsin way back in the 1890s. Over a decade or so the townsfolk underwent what can only be called a mass-mania with incidents of murder, arson, infanticide, institutionalisation, and all manner of other horrors. These stories are told through archival newspaper reports and the most astonishing images taken from glass-plate negatives taken during the time. Haunting images and crazy stories… an amazing piece of captured history. A very compelling volume of short accounts of the sessions delivered by many noted British scientists including Richards Dawkins and the great David Attenborough himself. These lectures were aimed to get kids excited about science and they are very entertaining and informative – you’ll love them too! And the last title I’ll share with you is a micro-history. A micro-history is a work which focuses on one very specific piece of human or natural history. In the past I’ve enjoyed brilliant micro-histories like Salt by Mark Kurlansky – the amazing story of the most popular food seasoning in the world, or The Surgeon of Crowthorne by Simon Winchester (a repeat offender when it comes to micro-histories!) – an account of a madman who made the most significant contribution to the English language dictionary. I may one day write a blog just about the amazing world of micro-histories (Alina has done a very good microhistories list to start with) but for this time it’s all about Krill in The Curious Life of Krill. This is a fascinating read about one of the most bountiful and important food sources in the Earth’s oceans. Written with an expert’s mind and a writer’s sense of storytelling this is a most enlightening read. Krill; they’re not as small as you think, and they are almost definitely the most important link in the food chain for life on Earth. Great read. Cool creatures. Think of them when you’re BBQ-ing your prawns this Christmas! 🙂 And that’s the back half of my 2018 reading in recreational non-fiction. These are not all the titles that crossed my path but definitely the most interesting and the ones I would like to share the most. Happy Christmas season to y’all and happy reading for the rest of 2018! I am well into the morning-after glow of having spent an evening in the company of Lee Child, Paul Cleave and 750 of his Christchurch fans – and what a night it was! This is my first WORD Christchurch event – this one presented in association with Penguin Random House New Zealand – and I couldn’t have asked for a better author to kick off with. Lee Child is funny, intelligent and relaxed as he responds to Paul Cleave’s questions. He looks every bit as he does on the back cover of his books too. Now don’t worry – there are no spoilers for Past Tense in here – nor were there any in the interview, thankfully. I am still only part way through the book so I would have been gutted if it had been discussed in depth. Have you ever wondered if Lee Child is channeling any of himself into our favourite character? Turns out that he is. He has gone out and experienced moving around the States as Jack does and has a similar dislike for technology. He also told us that other than the leather jacket and boots that he was wearing on the night; everything else will find itself in the bin in a few days and he will leave with new clothes. The basics aren’t expensive – he’s tried expensive clothing and found that they look the same anyway. And yes his jeans go under the mattress at night! So which of you didn’t like Tom Cruise in the big screen role of Jack Reacher? No? Me neither! Quite simply because he doesn’t have the requisite traits that we all know Reacher to have – if anything, Tom Cruise is the antipode of Jack Reacher. But this isn’t something that we will have to continue to grin and bear for any future films. That’s because there won’t be any. It was in Lee’s contract with the studio that he could opt out of any future movies once two had been made. So he has. Instead we have something much more worthy to look forward to. A TV series! He has just signed the paperwork to put Jack Reacher onto the little screen and I for one will be happily bingewatching it. If luck has it, there will be 8 seasons which will incorporate 24 books – 3 per season. One book will be chosen as the main theme and the other 2 will be cannibalised to round out the episodes. Can’t wait to see the result. It was nice to see Lee graciously accept the book of a first-time author from the audience, when he was offered it. I had the impression that he genuinely supports up and coming talent. He does however, heartily disapprove of a well established author who quite blatantly kicks off a series with a character who is a bit of a dead ringer for ol’ Jack. David Baldacci… you know who you are! Amusingly, Lee didn’t take this affront lying down and is openly disparaging of such behaviour. He even went as far as to name a couple of his minor characters Baldacci and made sure that Reacher got a chance to punch them in the face. It seems that was enough to assure the absence of David Baldacci at some book events that he and Lee Child were due to attend together. Better watch your back DB! So, ‘how does he remain as thin as he does?’, was one audience member’s question. Lee has discovered that stoking the fires of his creativity is as simple as keeping himself hungry. He writes better like this. He puts it down to some primal part of his brain that is activated when he is hungry – and it’s no doubt trying to imagine what it will have to do in order to hunt and forage to fill this need. Deep stuff. So even though food doesn’t play a huge part we can rest assured that he is consuming copious amounts of coffee. This stuff must be running through his veins as it’s not unusual for him to consume 36 cups of coffee in a day! 36! Mind blown! How on earth does he sleep at night, I wonder? So that was my night with Lee Child. It was a very entertaining time that was had by all. And no I didn’t hang around for my book to be signed, because I didn’t have a couple of hours to spare! Maybe next time. Time to immerse myself back into Jack Reacher’s world – Past Tense here I come! Christchurch City Libraries blog hosts a series of regular podcasts from New Zealand’s only specialist human rights radio show Speak up – Kōrerotia. This show is created by Sally Carlton. Join Rodney Bell (internationally-renowned wheelchair dancer and founding member of Touch Compass), Lyn Cotton (Founder and Artistic Director of Jolt Dance Company) and Jo Casey (Regional Programmes Coordinator (Christchurch) at StarJam) in a beautiful and uplifting discussion on the benefits of dance and performance for people perceived as having disabilities. Part I: Why do you do what you do? Part II: The benefits of dance – health and wellbeing, social, identity Part III: The benefits of performance for dancers and audience – visibility, confidence, self-worth; performance as a human right Part IV: What would you like to see happen in NZ in terms of dance and disability? Lee Child has just released his 23rd Jack Reacher book – Past Tense – and I can hardly wait to get my hands on it. The only thing that could possibly be better, is attending ‘An Evening with Lee Child’ – but you also won’t be surprised to hear that this WORD Christchurch event is already sold out. With a drawcard like bestselling author Lee Child having a chat with local author Paul Cleave – it’s no wonder! There was much seat bouncing and skiting to anyone who would listen when I heard that I would be going to see the creator of the Jack Reacher series in the flesh. It is almost like being in the same room as the great man himself – and who wouldn’t want to be up close and personal with someone like Jack? Lee Child is one of an elite group of authors of whose work I have read in its entirety – and eagerly anticipate his next offering. This doesn’t sound like too big of a deal, I agree; but I am actually one of those librarians who don’t read many books. Blame the alluring pull of technology, being time-poor and feeling like it is taking my work home with me. But for another tale about Jack, I will always make an exception. With 23 books under his belt and more than 40 short story anthologies, Lee Child has been giving his imagination and typing skills a serious work out over the last 21 years. His books have been bestsellers and he’s sold well over 100 million of them all over the world. From a librarian’s point of view I can honestly say that they are rarely back in the library long enough to actually get shelved. Now I can see how this is a wee bit like teasing you all given that the event is actually sold out – but don’t despair. You can put your name on the waitlist according to the WORD Christchurch website – so you might be in with a chance! I on the other hand will be there with bells on and will let you know what you missed from the comfort of your lounge room – so watch this space! Christchurch City Libraries blog hosts a series of regular podcasts from specialist human rights radio show Speak up – Kōrerotia. This show is created by Sally Carlton. Guests Rakesh Naidoo (Strategic Advisor Race Relations at the Human Rights Commission), Archna Tandon, and Jane Buckingham (University of Canterbury historian) discuss Indian migration to and settlement in New Zealand across the centuries. Part I: History of Indian migration to and settlement in Aotearoa, including changes to immigration policy and its effects; key drivers for Indian migration; Indian international students Part II: Being ‘Indian’ in New Zealand vs being ‘Punjabi’ etc in India; navigating multiple identities in multiple contexts Part III: Factors that can enable and hinder successful settlement Funnyman Rhys Darby has teamed up with Scholastic in a fun new fiction series for kids. He talked to Christchurch City Libraries about his debut children’s book and reading interests, his passion for cryptozoology and his connections to Christchurch. Darby joins other comedians like David Walliams and Australian Peter Helliar who have written children’s books. By Darby’s own admission, he has childlike sensibilities and this lends itself well to his writing. “Loaded with unmistakably quirky and random Rhys humour, 12-year-old Buttons McGinty pens top secret scribbles in a collection of extraordinary notebooks, as he and his friends enter a universe unlike any they’ve seen before. Buttons has been shipped off to Ranktwerp Island Education Fortress for Gifted Lame Unruly Minors, a.k.a. R.I.E.F.G.L.U.M., a boarding school on a remote island, somewhere in the Pacific Ocean between New Zealand and Antarctica. His parents are missing under strange circumstances and there are bogus baddies and a burly bigfoot on the prowl.” (Scholastic press release) Darby says the main character, a flame-haired 12-year-old, is a young spirited version of himself and that he used to dream about going on adventures as a kid but back then he could only go on such adventures in his head – lucky he had a big imagination. Darby’s three years spent in the army from the age of 17 also comes through in his children’s book with his use of Morse code and the military-like operations going on in the story. Darby describes the setting as like “an Alcatraz for kids.” Who is the book for? Darby kept his two young sons in mind (ages 8 and 12) when writing his book. He says he wrote it for anyone with a sense of humour. “It’s for reluctant readers or for fans of my work” and what’s more, he adds, “I wrote it to amuse myself – it had to be fun for me to do it.” It’s hard not to read the book without hearing his distinctive comedic voice in your head, making it feel as if he were reading it to you. Aside from a bit of Morse code, the book is full of funny asides, drawings, lists, maps and speech bubbles. Darby says that breaking up writing like this makes reading easier and more appealing. The story is written with a sense of immediacy. Button’s journal writing addresses the reader and makes you feel as if you are there figuring out the mystery alongside him. Rhys Darby’s interest in cryptozoology is evident in the book when a mysterious caged creature is snuck onto the island. He describes cryptozoology as “things unclassified by science that people don’t think exists – a pseudoscience.” “I’m a fan of the unknown,” he says and he co-hosts a long-running podcast on cryptozoology called The Cryptid Factor with the likes of wry Kiwi documentarian David Farrier. Rhys, why cryptozoology? What sparked your interest and do you have any favourite creatures? “You’re opening a can of worms asking about my interest in this but yes, ‘hairy humanoids’ like the Yeti, the Sasquatch and other upright walking things that seem to be human which aren’t human, like the Australian Yowie and also including human reptilian creatures and sea serpents like the Loch Ness monster.” “I remember reading when I was a kid an Usborne book called Monsters, seeing that in the library – Pakuranga Library – and one of my favourites featured all the creatures that may exist and sparked my interest in the unknown. We haven’t solved all the things on the planet that need to be solved.” What role did libraries play in your life? “I was a big library goer, mum would let me choose 5 books – it was a ritual. It was a safe quiet place. I remember going to my school library at Elm Park Primary and getting obsessed with car magazines.” When we spoke Rhys was planning to visit his old primary school to read to the kids there. The Buttons character in your book is named after your mate Leon ‘Buttons’ Kirckbeck (from your projects the Cryptid Factor and Short Poppies)? Tell us more about the name ‘Buttons’ you chose? “‘Buttons’ sort of alludes to someone who is very good at knowing how to push the buttons, being a bit of a tech whiz or having a knack for machinery – like in the movie Gravity when Sandra Bullock is trapped but just knows how to go in and tinker with things to save herself.” Rhys, your children’s book is mainly available through Australasian distribution and there are a number of ‘down under’ references and slang in the book. You’ve got a great line in your book about Buttons trusting someone “as much as you trust a cheap pair of jandals.” What made you choose to ‘keep it local’ in your book? “Since I have international pull I am in a position to keep and draw attention to our unique Kiwi ‘voice’ – like Taika Waititi does. Wouldn’t it be great if like, in the same way we accept the English world of Harry Potter, that we just accept things and it became like that on the other side of the world?” Rhys has even managed to retain his kiwiness in the recent Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, as the voice of a villain called Hypno-Potamus). “I trust him about as much as I trust a cheap pair of jandals” – quote from Buttons McGinty. (Rhys obviously loves jandals – so much so he wrote a song about them!) What did you learn from writing your first children’s book? “To keep the humour coming in and not so much fantasy or action and also to keep it light so it’s not too dark, like the territory that Roald Dahl and Lewis Carroll get into.” Obviously Book 2 is underway since Book 1 ends on a cliff-hanger and loose ends – and you hope to write up to 4-5 in the series once you see how this goes. What about a film adaptation? “My dream would be that maybe the book series would get made into a movie and when I’m writing it I imagine it and am visualising it all.” You’re so multi-talented… What drives you and motivates you? “I have a creative brain and get bored easily if I’m not doing something creative and I enjoy entertaining.” Is there nothing you won’t take up or try out? Conversely, what’s something you want to try your hand at – if you could wave a magic wand and just do it, what might it be? “Nothing too dangerous like jumping out of a plane since I’ve got kids now and I don’t know when my luck will run out. I’ve had the opportunity to climb Mt Kilimanjaro – for charity – and ‘nearly died’. I was so sick so although I’ve since been asked to Everest, I’ve turned it down. But if I could wave a wand, I’d like to go back in time and be an explorer – like being in Cairo exploring tombs in the 1920s, just doing archaeological digs. And also I’d like to visit the Victorian days in England – like the gloomy time period of Jack the Ripper and perhaps solve the riddle of what happened.” You’re already really interesting and diverse, but can you tell us something about yourself that we might not know? Rhys (age 44): “Well, I like to skateboard. I have eight skateboards and got Tony Hawk to sign my son’s skateboard when I was working with him.” What are you currently reading? “I’m the sort of person with a stack of books on the bedside and read bits here and there but currently The Explorer’s Guildby Kevin Costner the actor (and Jon Baird) – it’s part novel/part graphic novel. It’s set around WWI and it’s a bit of a tome – it’s not an easy read but I like the idea of it. (A worthy but challenging read). We know you like Spike Milligan and, as well as the non-fiction you’ve mentioned, what else did you read as a kid? “I wasn’t a great reader when I was a kid but I did enjoy graphic novels like TinTin(because he was an adventurer) and Asterix – funny and involved time and I learnt about Romans ruling.” You must be a fun dad! What are your children’s current favourite reads or things you like to read to them? Rhys Darby spent some formative years living and studying in Christchurch. He attended the University of Canterbury, trained at Burnham Military Camp and did his early performances as a comedy duo in Lyttelton. In your earlier autobiographical book This Way to Spaceship, you tell a funny story about being in the 1996 Christchurch Christmas Parade dressed as Mr. Blubby, a mascot to help advertise some sickly jelly concoction, but kids threw the jelly drinks at you and tipped you over. What other memories do you have from your time here? “Christchurch was a time of awakening for me. I had my first girlfriend there, I had my first comedy gig there and went to Burnham Military Camp. I like going back to the places I remember and finding new places, visiting the park and visiting Canterbury University and also Lyttelton where I started with my friend Grant (Lobban) and my performing began (Rhysently Granted).” Talking to Rhys Darby is a delight and a volley of conversation that can go in any direction. One thing that struck me was his way of thinking. “Just imagine” he says often or “I could imagine…” As you can imagine, he’s effusive and full of spark and creativity and his enthusiasm is refreshing and contagious. Rhys Darby certainly has cross-generational appeal. I have been looking forward to this book being published for a while, as both a children’s librarian and a parent of children in the target age group. I was already a fan of his comedy since his Flight of the Conchords days, but now I have children who enjoy his work too, in projects like Jumanji and Thunderbirds Are Go! With a children’s book in the mix, he’s growing a new fan base. Darby’s first book is a winner! Borrow it, buy it, gift it! We look forward to finding out what happens next in Darby’s daring adventures in Book 2! Christchurch City Libraries blog hosts a series of regular podcasts from New Zealand’s only specialist human rights radio show Speak up – Kōrerotia. This show is created by Sally Carlton. It is 125 years since New Zealand became the first country to allow women to vote in parliamentary elections. In this show, guests Vanisa Dhiru (National President of the National Council of Women of New Zealand), Katie Pickles (Historian of Women’s and Feminist History at the University of Canterbury) and Kym Hamilton (Tokona Te Raki) ponder the history of suffrage in Aotearoa New Zealand, as well as the current state of women’s rights in the country. This show is proudly supported by the Ministry for Women’s Suffrage 125 Community Fund. Part I: Brief overview of the Suffrage movement in Aotearoa New Zealand; who exactly was entitled to vote following the 1893 Electoral Act Part II: Women’s rights and challenges in NZ 125 years since Suffrage Part III: The need for a gender-equal NZ; the need to look at gender beyond stereotypes and beyond the binary

Put on your wading boots because Brett, Eric and Harley are taking you on a trip to Browntown. Today we are discussing the legend that is the Lizard Man of Scape Ore Swamp in Browntown SC. Is this cryptid really terrorizing people in the swamps around Johnsonville SC? Tall tales often involve a big fish, but this mystery is all reptile. Can anybody get through this show without pointing out the names of these towns? Is Brett going to wait until the skeptics section to call bs? Was BMT abducted by aliens? All this and more on the Travel Oddities Podcast episode 31!

Missing Link (2019) Meet Mr. Link You wait for years for a good, family friendly, cryptid-themed animated film to come along, and then suddenly two show up at almost the same time. Only a little over six months ago we got treated to Warner Animation Group’s Smallfoot (2018), and now comes the response to that call in the form of Laika’s Missing Link. Essentially a buddy comedy, Missing Link sees the titular character, a Sasquatch voiced by Zach Galifianakis, Puss in Boots (2011), reach out to failed adventurer and wannabe cryptozoologist Sir. Lionel Frost (Hugh Jackman’s pipes) for some much-needed aide. The creature is the last of his kind and needs help getting to a hidden valley in the Himalayas where he hopes to find a distant branch of his furry family (yeti, of course). For his part, Lionel wants glory and the respect of the Explorers’ Society in London — naturally, he will need to learn some lessons as things progress. And so the two set off for Link’s home in the Pacific Northwest. Standing in their way: bounty hunter Willard Stenk (Timothy Olyphant), hired by Lionel’s rival, Lord Piggot-Dunceby (Stephen Fry), to stop them by any means necessary. Reluctantly abetting them: Lionel’s sparky ex, Adelina Fortnight (Zoe Saldana). Charming us: Laika’s delightfully handmade-looking stop-motion animation and a rather wonderful, whimsical rendition of a fantastical late 19th century. Animation house Laika have form for this sort of thing — over the years they’ve given us the Neil Gaiman adaptation Coraline (2009), the bizarre fantasy The Boxtrolls (2014), the Japanese myth/ Beatles mash-up Kubo and the Two Strings (2016), and more. They’re the anti-Pixar in a way, doing smaller scale, decidedly offbeat movies that don’t seem to sacrifice idiosyncrasy for popularity (no disrespect to Pixar, but their broad popular appeal is very much down to always aiming for, well, broad popular appeal). So, an eccentric story about a gentle Bigfoot (who at one point chooses the name Susan for himself) and an ambitious, foolhardy monster hunter learning to get along is right up their alley. Yet there’s something missing. Kubo is the company’s masterpiece, and Missing Link doesn’t get within a parsec of that film’s thematic complexity and emotional resonance (take all the tissues to Kubo, folks). Indeed, the script by writer-director Chris Butler, ParaNorman (2012), seems a little undercooked, never strongly commenting on the colonialism that underpins its setting and story. All the pieces are there, but they never line up correctly. Similarly, ‘Susan’s’ status as the last of his kind never quite has the impact it should, and Lionel’s relationship with Adelina — a clear riff on Indiana Jones and Marion Ravenwood — fails to spark. Missing Link’s aesthetic, however, is absolutely on point, and its carved-wood-looking characters and elaborate, exaggerated sets are worth staring at for days. The voice cast is all in top form, with Galifianakis’ amiable, innocent title character a standout. The pace rarely flags, so you won’t find yourself checking your watch. Still, even for an outfit with such limited output, this feels very much like mid-level Laika. Having said that, if this is what their median quality looks like, they’re punching well above their weight. 3 / 5 – Good Reviewed by Travis Johnson

KEITH ERIC MARTIN Keith Eric Martin Ohioville Keith Eric Martin, 62, of Ohioville, with his wife at his side, went home to be with his Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, Tuesday, June 9, 2020. Born January 12, 1958, in Buffalo, N.Y., he was a son of the late Wayne G. and Mary Roessler Martin. A resident of Ohioville for the last nine years, Keith had worked the majority of his life in retail, spending the last fifteen years of his career at Walmart. Previously he had worked for a printing company, in sporting goods stores, and, of course, as a drummer during the years he spent with his friends and partners in crime as a member of Marauder. Keith loved hunting, fishing, spending time in the outdoors, and listening to and playing music his whole life. Keith was a creative soul who truly had never met a stranger. He had a huge heart, a huge personality, and a huge love for animals, having had many dogs and cats as companions throughout his life. Keith was a mentor to many people, from his time as a youth minister to offering wise words or a helping hand to anyone who needed it. He was fascinated by all things cryptid, was an avid movie buff, and most especially loved listening to classic rock music any chance he had. Keith will be greatly missed by his beloved wife and best friend of 16 years, Sherry Johnson Martin, Ohioville; daughters, Kiersten Narad, Ohioville, and Alyssa (Joseph) Staats, Danville, Va.; a brother, Chuck (Carol) Martin, Bradford, Pa.; a sister, Cathy (Harry) Haulton, Athens, Pa. and his cherished granddaughter, Trinity Narad, who called him "Grandpa Tikka". He is also survived by his mother-in-law, Anita; brother-in-law, Dale; many nephews and nieces, and innumerable friends cherished over his lifetime. In addition to his parents, he was preceded in death by his brother, Wayne Martin and his father-in-law, Kenneth Johnson. The family wishes to extend special thanks to Tasha and Kelly of Patriot Home Care, and the nurses and therapists of Concordia, who helped care for Keith. Your patience, humor, and generous care for both Keith and Sherry were invaluable over the last months of Keith's life. As per Keith's wishes, there will be no public visitation. A private memorial will be held at a later date. Professional arrangements have been entrusted to the NOLL FUNERAL HOME INC., 333 Third St., Beaver. Online condolences may be shared at nollfuneral.com.

With summer fast approaching thoughts turn to outdoor activities. The snow and cold are gone and Mother Nature beckons us to “come out and play!” Some folks like the water: a sandy beach or a maybe just a public pool. Others, like me, prefer something a little more woodsy, like a national forest or state park. When I was young I absolutely loved camping. It was my favorite way to spend summer vacation. As a Girl Scout I spent many happy days and nights hidden away from the hustle and bustle of city life. Tent, RV, or cabin – it didn’t matter. I just loved to be out in the woods. I long for those carefree days and wish I could get back out into the woods. My agenda would be much different now. Instead of racking up merit badges I’d be searching for Sasquatch, the Ohio Grassman actually, the resident Sasquatch-type cryptid creature in my great home state. As a paranormal investigator I’m used to running around in the dark looking for things that may or may not exist, so looking for the Grassman should be a no-brainer, right? All I need is a pair of hiking boots, a camera, and a dozen donuts. According to James “Bobo” Fay, Bigfoot has a sweet tooth. A giant, deer eating, treat loving sweet tooth. I’ll happily admit my unhealthy addiction to the Animal Planet show Finding Bigfoot. According to the BFRO crew, the great state of Ohio is tres “squatchy.” My Haunted Housewives partner, Cathi Weber has a camper/trailer that would be perfect for just such an adventure. We’d call ourselves “The Squatch Sisters” and use our women’s intuition and motherly instincts to guide us on our “monster” hunt. I know a thing or two about ghosts, but I’m certainly not an expert in other areas of the paranormal. Cathi and I have often talked about branching out from our ghost-loving world and exploring topics such as cryptozoology and UFOs – they still fall into the paranormal range. The world is a wonderful menagerie of incredible mysteries and we are fascinated by them all. When the Squatch Sisters want to go looking for cryptids we’ll call our resident go-to guy on the Ohio Grassman, Joedy Cook. Cook is as close to an expert as one can be on a creature that science can’t prove exists. He’s authored several books on the subject and has been featured in many television programs, including Monsters and Mysteries in America where he speaks about another creepy Ohio cryptid, the Melon Heads. Why not? Why couldn’t there be a 9 foot, hairy upright walking beast secretly living in the deep woods of Ohio? And it’s not just Ohio, not just the United States – many cultures believe in a Bigfoot-type creature. There has to be something to it. The uncertainty is part of the attraction. This fascination has led to dozens of documentaries, television shows, and countless books. YouTube is loaded with video “evidence” of the elusive creature. Biologists and anthropologists keep records in the form of footprint casts that illustrate the human/ape similarities. How can anyone NOT believe? One of the most interesting televised accounts of the Ohio Grassman aired on my second favorite cable show Mountain Monsters. The team of “Hillbilly Hunters” captured an incredibly compelling photograph of what looks like a large humanoid creature covered in hair. Or a guy in a ghillie suit. But are we overlooking something? Are we making light of what could be a very dangerous undertaking? There are those who claim that the Grassman (or any other Bigfoot type) is not a shy, peaceful creature who just wants to be left alone. Some researchers and witnesses say that a run-in with the massive creature can be very troublesome. Bigfoot would certainly be at the top of the food chain. He’s a formidable predator who can be extremely aggressive and territorial. If you find yourself in Grassman country you’d better be ready to run. It’s all fun and games until someone loses a limb. How much of what we hear and see is true? It’s hard to say, especially since I can only speak from my own experiences. I do know that sometimes the media paints an incredibly inaccurate picture of the paranormal. I imagine it’s the same for all aspects of the very broad blanket of what we consider “the unknown.” Fame-hungry thrill seekers and ambitious producers can “embellish” true accounts to make them more palatable for television. On the other hand, Bigfoot researchers have the same problems we ghost hunters do when dealing with skeptics and non-believers. We can’t “prove” that ghosts, Bigfoot, aliens, fairies, sea monsters, or unicorns exist to any scientific certainty. We can’t control our investigations so that others can experience what we do. We can’t convince anyone of anything that they don’t want to believe in. Our best photographs, video clips, audio recordings, or plaster casts won’t change closed minds, although with Bigfoot there is the possibility of collecting DNA through hair or saliva samples. Can’t get spit from a spirit. The true adventure comes from the exploration, the hunt, the quest into the unknown. Instead of decrepit asbestos-filled abandoned buildings, Bigfooters are trekking outdoors in the fresh clean air. Granted, the weather doesn’t always cooperate, but you get the idea. A weekend of squatching is, at the very least, a magnificent excuse to commune with nature. That is how I want to spend my summer vacation, or at least part of it. Go forth and find that evidence! I vow to make this the greatest summer of my adult life. Maybe I’ll get the best ghost photograph ever, maybe I’ll spot a UFO, maybe I’ll catch the Grassman in my backyard. And I won’t stop there, this is only the beginning. The supernatural is broad topic. There are endless possibilities, a cornucopia of curiosities just waiting to be explored. I won’t spend three months hunkered down at home zoning out in front of a television or computer screen. And that’s more than I can say about a lot of writers. Listen to the America’s Most Haunted Radio interview with Mountain Monsters star Trapper Tice

I've been a subscriber to Cryptid Crate for about 4 months now and even bought some of their past crates from their Etsy. I've been interested in cryptozoology since I was a little kid but could only ever find cheap, hoaky cryptid themed trinkets that I had no interest in buying. That is not the case with Cryptid Crate! The crates are always full of great, high quality items that I'm always excited to receive! I enjoy the fact that the crates often follow a theme highlighting one or a few cryptids of interest and the shirts are of excellent quality! I love that info about the independent creators of items/artwork is included so I can go check out their shops and buy more fun stuff from my favorites! Getting my Cryptid Crate is definitely the highlight of my month and I'll likely be a long time subscriber!

- 1 Background - 2 Appearances and allusions - 3 Connections - 4 Trivia - 5 References Background[edit | edit source] Real-Life[edit | edit source] The Yeti had been a part of Tibetan folklore for centuries, traditionally named to: g.ya' dred, Yachê, and g.ya' which would later be anglicized as, "Yeti". Most traditional names referencing the creature being along the lines of a man/bear hybrid or giant bear, namely the Himalayan Brown Bear. In 1921, as European explorers traveled through Nepal, they reported finding large inhuman footprints, which some of the locals identified as, "Metoh-kangmi" which the British interpreted as, "Abominable Snowman" while in reality it translated to, "Man-Bear of the Snows" . The iconography of the yeti as an, "Ape-Man" was predominately created by Western pop-culture due to a trend of racists altering regional cultural traditions into said caveman-like monster to support pseudo-scientific theories on eugenics. The first alleged sightings of the yeti was recorded by British naturalist Brian H. Hodgson, in a footnote in a book about mammals from Nepal. No one has been able to find a Yeti or even conclusive evidence that one exists, but its place in popular culture and world mysteries is a cemented one. It is widely believed that the yeti is a mythologized and misidentified Himalayan Brown-Bear given DNA testing on samples mostly being of brown bear samples, Himalayan Brown Bears living in the yeti's supposed habitat, the traditional names of the Yeti referring to it as being a bear, brown bears being able to stand and walk on their hind-legs giving them human-like figures in the conditions of the Himalayas, bear hands looking near identical to those of humans, and the foot prints spotted in 1921 being believed to be bear footprints altered by wind. Development[edit | edit source] When development was being done for Expedition Everest, Imagineers turned to primatology to develop the look and movement of the cryptid. Unlike previous versions of the character, such as the yeti at the Matterhorn Bobsleds, they wanted to get as accurate as possible to what it would look like if it really existed. They studied many animals, including the extinct Gigantopithicus, which lived in China, Vietnam, and Indonesia, and the snub-nosed monkey, which is indigenous to high-altitude places in central China, to use as references for the Yeti's final design. They also looked at Tibetan and Nepalese depictions of the Yeti in folklore, which differ from Western depictions. Disney Parks[edit | edit source] The Yeti is the legendary protector of the Forbidden Mountain in the Himalayas though it is unclear to what extent it is mystic and to what extent it is animal. Due to being seen as the guardian of the mountain, it had a history of being worshiped by locals of the Himalayas for safe-passage through the mountains with them even building a temple dedicated to the yeti. At some point in the 19th century, Harrison Hightower III of S.E.A. journeyed to Mt. Everest in a mission to hunt the yeti. Around 1930, the League of Adventurers attempted to build a Fixed Ropes Traverse System trail through the Forbidden Mountains, but they encountered the Yeti along the way, managing to take a picture of him before they left. In the Anandapur village of Serka Zong, at the foothills of the Forbidden Mountain, the Royal Anandapur Tea Company once rain a railway through the Himalayas to ship tea to markets across the region. However, the railroad became plagued with accidents starting around 1933, around the same time that British explorers began making more attempts at climbing Mount Everest. These accidents were attributed to the wrath of the Yeti and the railroad closed down in 1934. Decades later, a 1982 expedition to the Forbidden Mountain would turn disastrous, with the discovery of the expedition camp's remains showing gear torn up by enormous claws and recovered photographs showing very close-up views of the attacker. Shortly after the turn of the 21st century, and despite concerns within the local community of intruding on the yeti's territory, including local Yeti Museum curator Dr. Pema Dorje, the railroad was re-opened and refurbished by Himalayan Escapes Tours & Expeditions as a way to bring mountain climbing tourists to the Everest base camp. Appearances and allusions[edit | edit source] The Yeti can be seen in photographs on message boards in Camp Discovery, chronicling the expeditions of the League of Adventurers through newspaper clippings and headline pages of the First International News journal. Asia (Disney's Animal Kingdom)[edit | edit source] The yeti is referenced throughout the Asia area of this land in artwork and name. One location is even called the Yak and Yeti Restaurant for the creature. A shrine can also be found across from the Himalayan mountains which has a figure of the yeti within it. The Yeti is encountered twice in the attraction. They first see him as a shadow, where they see him tearing a piece of the tracks off of the railway. He is encountered physically at the ride’s climax. When the animatronic worked, the trains rushed underneath him, just missing his claws as he reached down to grab them. Now, a strobe lite flashes around him, simulating movement. One of Harrison Hightower III’s books is titled Expedition Everest: The Search for the Yeti. At some point, he must have gone searching for the Yeti, to add it to his collection. This is a reference to Imagineer Joe Rohde, the designer of Expedition Everest and the model for Hightower. Hung on the wall of Trader Sam's bar is a mask virtually identical to those seen in the Yeti Museum and Serka Zong Bazaar, possibly depicting the yeti. Connections[edit | edit source] Another yeti is found in the Disneyland attraction Matterhorn Bobsleds. The Yeti of the Matterhorn however looks considerably different as; it around 6' tall while the Everest yeti is is 25' tall, the Matterhorn Yeti has white fur not covering its face or hands revealing blue skin while the Himalayan yeti has brown fur completely covering its body with some pink flesh being visible, and the Matterhorn yeti having red eyes while the Himalayan yeti has yellow eyes. - Promotional material by Himalayan Escapes Tours and Expeditions and merchandise sold in the Serka Zong Bazaar both depict the yeti as being more similar looking to its Swiss counterpart. - The Matterhorn Yeti is referenced in the decor of the Serka Zong Bazaar where there is a posed figure in a snarling Yeti mask, given white, "fur" and which is positioned in the original Matterhorn Bobsleds yeti pose. Up[edit | edit source] The Asia sections of the Wilderness Explorers Guidebook contains several allusions to, depictions of, and missions regarding the Himalayas, the Forbidden Mountain, and the Yeti. This includes using a telescope to note the height of the Forbidden Mountain and differentiate it from Mt. Everest, taking one of Himalayan Escapes' train-tours of the mountains, and studying the folklore and anthropology of the yeti outside of the Yeti Museum. The Wilderness Explorers are also connected to the history of Anandapur, namely in the Anandapur Royal Forest. Trivia[edit | edit source] - The static Yeti has the fan nickname “Disco Yeti”, in reference to the strobe light behind him. - A poster in Disney's Asia tributes this by advertising, "The Dancing Yeti Inn" - The yeti has been given the nickname of, "Betty". - The mural of the yeti in the Yeti Temple is modelled after imagineer Joe Rohde.

Prof. Mark "Toonery" (Smith) is a Freelance Cartoonist and Animation Director based near Atlanta. His animated ads have won three Telly Awards and an Addy for Best Sales Video! He's also the author/illustrator of The Art of Flash Animation: Creative Cartooning, as well as The Struggling Cartoonist, now available from BookLogix. The Cartoonyville T-shirt store is now officially open! Fans of Bigfoot, Nessie, Chupacabras and other Cryptids can now share a smile with your own Cryptid or Squatchin' shirts! But why limit yourself to T-shirts? These first three designs are also available in a variety of colors for hoodies, phone and laptop cases, tote bags, coffee mugs, stickers and even masks! More designs are on the way to our T-shirt store, especially with the Cartoonyville characters (Deadbeat Skunk, Thurman, Sezquatch, Dr. Ratnest, The Arsonist Space Squirrels, and many more) have hit now bookshelves in The Struggling Cartoonist... a Cartoonyville Adventure!

It’s been cold and snowy recently… Continue reading Springtime in Vermont — starring Jareth and Jennifer My current temp assignment places me in the state’s largest office complex, as measured by square footage. Like the hospital where I once worked, the complex started as separate buildings, together forming an integrated plant for the manufacture of computer chips. Over the course of expansion, separate pieces of architecture merged into one convoluted maze. The company that originally filled these buildings now retains only a ghost of a presence; current primary tenants are another chip manufacturer that bought out the local division of the first and a division of the state’s Health Access Department, where I work. I’m ostensibly here to do UAT testing, which in itself is its own recursion of absurdity, but, after several weeks, I’m now 86.2% certain that I’m in the Labyrinth. Here’s the evidence: Everything looks the same. The sadistic genius who constructed this place started off with that thoroughly dank industrial style common to so many 1960s and 1970s office buildings: unadorned square forms the color of wet mud, cement walls, long rectangular windows impossible to open, raw metal pillars, endless corridors – all topped off with liberal use of jaundiced fluorescent lighting. After duplicating this style in several cubes, they then linked the cubes together with identical glass catwalks. I have walked around for fifteen minutes, expecting myself to be in one building, only to realize I’ve gone through three replications instead. The landmarks aren’t landmarks. When I discovered that one of the glass catwalks had bird decals along its sides, I rejoiced, thinking I had found a way to differentiate it from all the other catwalks. But no. All the other catwalks have the exact same decals, in the exact same pattern, at the exact same positions. It’s like the place is working against me. The arrows point the wrong way. There are signs pointing to two key locations, the cafeteria and the state offices. 95% of them actually show you which way to go, but 5% of them point you in precisely the opposite direction, just for shits and giggles. Of course I followed the 5%. The maps show you where you aren’t. I came across a route for indoor walking that described a loop through several buildings. It showed a location where the route started, but there was no indication of where I was in relation to that starting point. What is the point of a map if there’s no basis for comparison? The denizens have a sarcastic and scatological sense of humor. I saw a sign on a door that said, “We provide fast service…no matter how long it takes!” Also someone scribbled out the first word on the “Records Retention Room” label and wrote “Poop” instead. Time runs differently here. You may have no idea where you are around here, but you’ll always know what time it is. Well, scratch that. You’ll always see a clock, as they hang throughout the halls at junctions both major and minor. You’ll probably never know what time it is, as each clock seems to preside over its own local time zone that varies from all contiguous ones anywhere between zero and ten minutes. There are dangers untold and hardships unnumbered. To get to my office, for example, I must traverse the Fiery Corridor of Death, a catwalk in which the overcranked HVAC combines with exposure to natural sunlight to yield about 50 feet of heady, smothering heat. Then, of course, there are the Exits of Mockery, which means that the door most convenient to my car would sound a fire alarm if I opened it, so I have to circumvent it with a 10-minute walk in the opposite direction. And then there’s a Failure Analysis Lab, where, I assume, you are taunted with explicit details of all your past mistakes until you cry. Chilling. I suppose that, if I solve the maze, I will escape and win a permanent job with decent pay and benefits. But what constitutes a solution? Should I be heading for the center? As far as I can tell, this place has no center. Should I be heading for an exit? And who’s in charge of this thing? The Goblin King appears to be conspicuously absent, which I suppose is good because he’s an immature, petulant little shit. So should I be looking for Daedalus or perhaps Ariadne? Should I be on my guard for a Minotaur? Now that I think about it, I do hear a dull roar, but that could just be the air conditioning…. Like many things in life, my perspective on letter writing as a form of activism has been deeply informed by Calvin & Hobbes, the seminal comic strip of my childhood, by Bill Watterson — namely, the particular strip from which the title of this entry is pulled. However, I have decided to employ this tactic regularly, given the cesspool of which the incoming President seems determined to make of the national government. This week’s Bat Fax, addressed to Representative Pat Leahy [D-VT], Senator Bernie Sanders [I-VT], and Representative Peter Welch [R-VT], concerns the future President’s appointment of Steve Bannon to position of White House Racist in Chief. Text below.Continue reading “Quick! To the Bat Fax!” or, Haranguing Government Officials on…Steve Bannon The corollary to Mr. Ding-A-Ling, this experience is based on an encounter with a local parlor’s odd flavors. Sometimes unusual flavors can be delicious — I myself have had wonderful cucumber sorbet, wasabi ice cream, and strawberry basil ice cream — but sometimes I get the feeling that the makers are just being weird for weird’s sake. Side note: You can tell that it’s coming along autumn when Jareth breaks out the combo of slit throat choker and phalanges jewelry! ^_^ Side note 2: My favorite expression in this story is Jennifer’s in panel 8. That’s disappointment and revulsion all rolled into one if I ever saw it! Jareth encounters an oddly named ice cream van. Yeah, ice cream. That’s what this photostory is about: ice cream. :p P.S. There is a real, actual, 103% true ice cream van by this name that drives around Winooski. I am not making this up. [My fictional ice cream truck would probably be something like Creemees 2 Go or Artisanal Cone Productions, Inc.] From here, with my commentary. - The middle of the road is the best place to stop your car and take pictures of the leaves! We like to complain about leaf peepers as much as we complain about the weather. We’re also sometimes uncertain why they’re taking pictures of the leaves and why, if they like them so much, they just don’t take them back with them. - Who are those two guys that started that ice cream company? Ben and Jerry! We’re still sad that they sold out to Unilever. - I’ll take all of my groceries in plastic bags, please. This is implying that Vermonters tend to go for paper bags, their own bags, or no bags, but I dispute this, having seen plastic bags in use ubiquitously. - What’s your area code? ‘S’all 802, buddy. - You should probably shave your beard. I guess we don’t remove our facial hair here? - I wish more people would get married in rustic farm barns. “Rustic farm barns” is a tridundant phrase; we just call them “barns,” and they’re not some vintage shabby chic wedding destination in our view. If we’re talking wooden barns, those are the dilapidated structures all over the state that people either use as makeshift garages/sheds or just allow to slowly decompose by the side of the road. - I’d love some vanilla soft serve. It’s a vanilla creemee, not “soft serve,” and local tradition decrees that it [and any other flavors] must be advertised via large, handmade wooden cutout of a creemee in a cone. - I need something to put on my pancakes. Please pass the Aunt Jemima. We don’t use racist water, sweetened with high fructose corn syrup, here. We use what comes from sugar maples — so-called “REAL maple syrup,” the adjective being there to distinguish it from the swill that almost everyone else in the country counts as syrup. - No, I don’t know any farmers. Most of us know farmers… - You just moved here from Connecticut? Oh, you are definitely a Vermonter now. People who have moved here from out of state are called “flatlanders.” We tend not to consider people Vermonters unless they were born here, along with their parents, etc. - I bought so much stuff at Target today! We have no frickin’ Targets in this state, but plenty of Wal-Marts. What gives, Target? - There is no such thing as Champ the Lake Monster. We take our cryptid seriously. - I don’t own any flannel. Better statement: “I don’t dress in layers.” - Did you see that great billboard advertisement on I-89? We don’t have billboards in the state, so we always experience the shock of their ugliness whenever we cross the borders. - I never run into anyone I know! Vermont: a small town cleverly masquerading as a state. - I’ll pass on the craft beer; just toss me another Bud. Microbreweries proliferate. - I’ve never met anyone who smokes weed. I guess it’s ubiquitous, like real maple syrup. - I don’t eat organic food. I guess it’s ubiquitous, like real maple syrup. - This restaurant only serves local, farm to table food? No thanks. Locavore and farm-to-table movements have great support here, to the extent where we assume that all locally based restaurants should participate. - What’s a fiddlehead? It’s the unripe, rolled-up frond of certain types of fern, edible steamed or in salad. - Vermon-T. We swallow the T and insert a glottal stop. - Moun-T-ain. Insert glottal stop instead. - Spring is the season that comes right after winter. Nope, that’s mud season. - The weather here is so predictable. The only thing predictable is that we complain about it. - Rain in January? Yes! January is statistically our cold month; though we may have some rain for January thaw [or at least we did when our weather was more regular], we tend to get lots of snow then. - You have gluten intolerance? Good luck finding a restaurant to eat at. We apparently have lots of gluten-free options. - We are proud supporters of the University of Vermont football team! UVM doesn’t have one. We’re all about hockey instead. - You’re from New Jersey? Wow, that’s so cool! Flatlanders…! >_> - Let’s leave the beer brewing to the professionals. See statement on Bud. - Let’s go to Stowe for an inexpensive weekend getaway. Stowe is not cheap at all! - I’ll just quickly run into the store and grab what I need. I won’t talk to anyone, promise. See “small town” comment. - No more kale! “Eat more kale!” [Corollary: HISSSSSSSSSSS to Chick-Fil-A.] - The leaf peepers are leaving for the season? Nooooooooo! See comment on taking pictures of leaves. - I wish my neighbors lived closer. They live so close that they won’t go away. - I hate that we have to drive so far to go hiking. Getting anywhere is pretty much a hike. - Let’s move to Massachusetts! Some of us moved to get away from Massachusetts and have no desire to return. - I think I’ll just stay inside all weekend. We tend to like to frolic outside. - It’s snowing out, looks like school is going to be closed. Snow does not necessarily guarantee school closure; lots of ice and crappy back roads, however, tend to shut it down. - What’s Town Meeting Day? It’s when the local government gets stuff done. - Phish got started in Vermont? I had no idea. We tend to have some idea. - I sure wish there were more Subarus in this parking lot. Four-wheel drives like Subarus really help in the winter. - People go on vacation here? Really? Why? Some of us have deep, unreasoning love for this state. - The air is so dirty. I guess it’s cleaner than other places, but it’s really not that great over all. - This state has nothing going for it; I think it’s time to leave. “Deep, unreasoning love.” - Bernie who? The politician we’ve all been on a first-name basis with since the 1980s. 50 Shades of Poooooooo somehow came up in discussion at the Friends of the Library meeting this evening when we were talking about the prospect of a book swap and donations this spring. I felt it apropos to mention that the first book in the series keeps getting stolen from the library, so I keep donating copies to replace it. [Okay, just twice, but still…] Favorite response: “Why would you steal it?! It’s a novel; it’s not a manual. You’re supposed to read it and then return it, not keep it for reference!” That cracked me up because clearly the speaker was not thinking about the pleasures of rereading. I was also entertained because, distressingly, people actually do take the series as a manual for either an ideal relationship and/or how to practice bdsm. On the subject of pooooooooooo, a friend has sent me a pdf of Masters of the Universe, which is, of course, E.L. James’ Twilight fanfic that eventually spawned the Media Juggernaut of Poooooooo. If I don’t get lost in some infinite wormhole of recursion upon reading it, I might post a thought or two about it here. More accurately, mud season in Vermont. It was like 24 degrees F this morning, and it’s currently 54 degrees F. Tomorrow we anticipate a high of 65 degrees F, followed by 1 to 3 inches of snow four-letter word on Saturday and a high of barely above freezing on Sunday. The truism that March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb doesn’t really apply in this state. March might come in like a lion, but, at some point around the middle of the month, it turns into an ornery goat who won’t stop taking ludicrously high jumps and deep dives, all the while swerving between moments of deceptive mildness interspersed with biting nastiness. Of the many place names in New England transported here from settlers hearkening back to their connections in Old England, I most like that of Braintree. There’s a Braintree in Massachusetts and one here in Vermont. Both of them take their name from Braintree, Essex in England. As far as I’m concerned, though, that’s less than half the story. The etymology geek in me has a burning desire to know how several locations in the world are named after [according to my overheated imagination] trees growing out of skulls. Unfortunately, the etymology geek in me will not be adequately satisfied. Wikipedia, font of all knowledge online, deems the origin of the name Braintree "obscure." Despite that, the online encyclopedia discusses several possible sources for the name, most of which support the idea that, somehow, Braintree began life as something like "Brantry" or "Branchetreu," both of which seem to mean "town by the river." In fact, in the Domesday Book, a 1086 record of land use and taxation covering much of England, records Braintree as "Branchetreu." As far as I can tell, this appears to be the earliest record of the place name in its somewhat recognizable form. Thus it’s worth looking into the sources of Branchetreu. Branchetreu, like Braintree, breaks down into two syllables with a different origin for each: "Branche-" and "-treu." The speculation that Braintree means "town by the river" leads me to interpret the "Branche-" as equivalent to the French la branche, which is one of those words that means the exact same thing in both language. La branche in French and "branch" in English both refer to those small extensions of a tree growing up and out from the main trunk; both words also carry the same figurative meanings that denote the subsidiary parts of certain things [e.g., governments]. Therefore both words can mean "a separate smaller offshoot of a larger river." "Branche-" clearly equals "river," at least in my mind. So what about that "-treu?" According to Wikipedia, the suffix "-treu" is equivalent to the modern suffix "-try" or "-tree," which used to mean "farm" and then expanded to mean "settlement" or "town." Apparently this appears in town names around Wales. If that’s so, then "Branche-" = "River-" and "-treu" = "town," making "Branchetreu" = "Rivertown." The shifts changes in spelling and pronunciation we can attribute to the inevitable changes in language as it wends through the landscape of time. Even though I know Braintree is basically Rivertown, the poetic images of its current iteration — brains and trees — will always teem in my mind. When I think of Braintree, I think of a tree in a cemetery growing out of someone’s skull. More specifically, I think of an old New England family plot, full of effaced and canted stones, and an apple tree rooting in one corner, planted firmly in the pot of a dead person’s skull. Or I think of another feral apple-like tree, once by a house that has long since disappeared. Short and broad, it bears the heavy burden of its fruit: bright ripe brains, swinging from their stems. Or, more metaphorically, I think of the nervous system as the epitome of a brain-tree: with the spinal cord as its trunk, it ramifies in electric branches throughout the body, with the brain at its fruiting crown. Around these parts, we have Front Porch Forum, a uniquely Vermont Internet development, which provides E-mail lists for every town in the state [sometimes for several neighborhoods within towns, if the towns are large enough]. Like most E-mail lists, it contains classifieds, notices from town government and local services, requests to borrow things, thank you notes and loads of rants. I belong to the Winooski one and one for the neighborhood in Burlington where I work. A few days ago, someone posted on the Winooski FPF that she didn’t like a sign that Sneakers [restaurant] put up in a little garden in an island near our horrible traffic rotary. It said "Sneakers — Yield to Bacon," which she, as a member of a Muslim household, found insensitive. She added that it was a safety hazard, impeding visibility for drivers and pedestrians, and wished that it was removed. As Seven Days, our local newsweekly reports, poo flinging ensued. An inevitable backlash of posters castigated the original poster as a coward, a terrorist and the epitome of what was wrong with today’s "politically correct" society. Soon a representative from Sneakers posted, apologizing for upsetting people, explaining the joke behind the sign and adding that the sign would be taken down. The inevitable backlash then apparently subsumed the restaurant in its bitter wash; Seven Days reports that Sneakers has received so much bile on its Facebook page that it took said page down. For the record, I recognize that the sign was offensive to the original poster, even though it wasn’t intended to be. I disagree with her particular targeting of the Sneakers sign as a danger, however, since other local businesses put up little signs in the sponsored gardens on the rotary islands, and she didn’t seem to have a problem with them. I thought that her original complaint was a reasonable statement and justification of her opinion, and I also appreciate the restaurant’s respectful response. They did include the "Well, we didn’t mean it!" line in their apology for offense, but they did apologize sincerely, and they took down the sign as a gesture of good faith. If only more institutions acted with such sincerity and sensitivity… At the suggestion of a Figurvore member, I added a local menu to the fridge. [I found it online and reduced it to 16.67%, then printed it out.] I also added a LOVERMONT sticker, since Vermonters really like to proclaim their attachment to their state. I have a list on Amazon of Books to Read Eventually, which has been hovering between 50 to 60 books long since its creation last summer. Some books I can find at my most frequented libraries, the Winooski and Fletcher Free [Burlington], while others, I know, I will just have to out and out buy. Sigh. In a truly stupendous flash of smarts this morning, I realized I could check other libraries in the county for some books on my list. Winooski participates in the Homecard system, where persons with cards at participating libraries can show their cards at other participating libraries and sign out books. [Fletcher Free doesn’t participate because it’s selfish and doesn’t play well with others.] There are three Homecard libraries that I feel comfortable trekking to for books — Brownell [Essex Junction — not really a trek], Essex Free [Essex Center] and Dorothy Alling [Williston]. I found seven of my wish list items at these libraries and one for download at listenupvermont.org! Maybe one of these days I’ll actually read all the books on my list! Awwww, I love the Winooski Library. They just started a campaign to get the library patrons to collectively read a total of 1,000 books between July 15th and August 15th. If we hit that goal, we get an ice cream party!! Books and ice cream! What could be better?! Of course I’m going to pitch in by letting them know of all the books I read. I wonder if there’s any capacity in which they need volunteers? I would love to regularly scan the stacks for books to sign out shelve books, for example. GO AWAY STOP MAKING ME THROW OUT ALL MY BREAD AND RICE AND PASTA AND PANCAKE MIX I’M TRYING TO SAVE MONEY HERE BY BUYING IN BULK AND YOU LITTLE SHITS AREN’T HELPING I HATE YOU GUYS YOU’RE SO ANNOYING AND BESIDES YOU ARE FUCKING UP OUR FRESHLY PAINTED WALLS BECAUSE I HAVE TO PASTE YOU WITH A PACK OF PHOTO PAPER AND THEN HALF THE TIME AFTER I SCORE A DIRECT HIT YOU’RE STILL FUCKING ALIVE AND WHEN I DO GET YOU YOU LEAVE BUG GUTS ALL OVER THE WALL THE PANTRY LOOKS LIKE AN INSECT CHARNEL HOUSE ALL BECAUSE OF YOU WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU LAYING YOUR FUCKING EGGS ANYWAY WE ALREADY GOT RID OF ALL THE OPEN BULK PACKAGES AND SEALED EVERYTHING IN PLASTIC STORAGE SO ARE YOU INCUBATING INSIDE THE STORAGE AND THEN MAGICALLY TELEPORTING THROUGH THE PLASTIC OR SOMETHING STOP HAVING CONVENTIONS IN OUR PANTRY GO BOTHER THE UPSTAIRS NEIGHBORS WHO COULD THEN DO SOMETHING USEFUL WITH ALL THEIR ELEPHANT STOMPING AND SQUASH THE SHIT OUT OF YOU I waited outside for 15 minutes today [estimated windchill factor negative a billion] because the Hindquarter, Cloud 9 Caterers’ former fire engine and current mobile food van, was parked in front of my building today, and I had to test out their burger ["House Grind, Smoked Country Bacon, Lettuce, American Cheese, Tomato Jam"] and onion rings ["Buttermilk Soaked, Malt Vinegar Aioli"]. First I ate the onion rings. They were light and crispy, with no sogginess that I usually associate with larger, cheaper versions. Their noticeably salty flavor [which I liked] was cut by the mild aioli. That’s glorified mayonnaise for you philistines. :p Then I ate the burger, which came on a toasted, buttered bun. I appreciated this detail, as untoasted buns distract me from my burgers with their chewy texture. The meat was juicy, tender and done medium, as far as I can tell [outsides definitely cooked but not hard, insides lightly cooked but not red]. The bacon added a nice smoky note, and the cheese and lettuce were fine. Everything merged together into a hearty mess of flavors, except for the tomato jam, which did not overpower the burger, but definitely had a slight medicinal aftertaste. Could’a’ done without that, but, for $11.00, I was very pleased with my meal. Definitely worth waiting 15 minutes in the cold for! At Burlington "International" Airport, daily arrivals and departures occur to/from the following cities: Cleveland, Chicago, Detroit, Newark, New York City, Orlando, Philadelphia and Washington DC. There are seasonal flights to/from Toronto and daily bus trips to/from Montreal, which are the only qualifications I can think of for the "International" in its title. It's a source of great irritation to some of us Vermonters that there are no flights to/from Boston out of BTV. For that, you have to go across the lake to Plattsburgh "International" Airport, which defeats the purpose of having a direct route to Boston slightly quicker than Greyhound "We'll Get There Whenever We Feel Like It and Stop in 46 Towns Along the Way" Bus Lines or the Amtrak "It Takes All Day and Only Gets You Three-Fourths of the Way There" Choo Choo Service. Of course, now there's Megabus, which takes only 4.5 hours to go between Burlington and Boston. Where was this service for the past decade of my life when I was hauling ass regularly on tedious Greyhound trips that took approximately 5 years? >:( City employee: Town clerk's office. Me: Hi, I swear I registered to vote last year, but I'm not showing up on the Web site. [gives name and address] City employee: Nope, you're not registered. Me: But I registered last year when I switched my driver's license over. City employee: Yeah, Motor Vehicles is really bad with giving us that information. Me: So I should register again? City employee: Yeah. Since I moved here, I have become a fiend for used books, whether at bookstores or, more often, periodic sales to support local town libraries. In the past few months, I’ve hit the Alling Library’s humungous Fourth of July sale in Williston, the Brownell Library’s September sale in Essex Junction, plus 2 sales at Fletcher Free in Burlington. Sadly, I missed the Essex Free’s annual sale in Essex Center, usually in early June, but I’m planning on attending next year, if only for nostalgic reasons [Essex Free was my childhood library]. On Sunday, for example, I thought I’d just pop by the Fletcher Free Library to return a book. However, it was the last day of their yearly book sale, with books going for $5.00 a bag. Suddenly a time vortex occurred. When I next looked up, I had 15 books in my Fletcher Free tote bag, and it was an hour later. I was powerless to resist! Anyway, I discovered a directory of some of the library-related book sales in the state. While not complete, it does allow me to direct my future fiending activities. I see sales at Pierson in Shelburne in October and at Brownell in October and December to hit, as well as a really big one at the end of June next year in Burnham in Colchester. I really need to get on some local mailing lists to find out when these things are happening. I do not keep a check register. I used to when I first got a checkbook when I was 18, but then I figured, Why bother? because I could always get to my account information online. Also I write checks very rarely. Anyway, I've found check registers less and less useful as I have grown older because I track my accounts online. Tracking my accounts online, of course, depends on prompt updates to my accounts whenever money goes in or out. Herein lies my problem. I had no trouble with prompt transaction posting and, thus, online account tracking when I lived in Massachusetts and patronized multinational banks. Now that I've switched to a Vermont-based credit union, I'm having difficulties. About the only thing that posts promptly are automatic deposits, like my paychecks, and automatic withdrawals, like my auto insurance and auto loan payments. Everything else — that means purchases on my debit card and transfers to/from Paypal, both of which make up the bulk of my account activity — takes days to post. For example, Saturday's debits typically don't register until Tuesday. NOT HELPFUL. The lag time in transaction posting certainly makes it easier to overdraw my account. Anyway, I called the credit union today to see if cash withdrawals from ATMs would post more promptly than debit card purchases. Answer: No. Apparently there is no way to achieve prompter posting of my transactions until APRIL 2013, when the credit union upgrades its software. The person I talked to at the credit union told me to keep a check register and record all my transactions in it. This would not work because I have automatic withdrawals of varying amounts on varying days and automatic deposits of varying amounts on varying days. Furthermore, NO. It is not my job to go back to the 19th century to accommodate my credit union. It is the credit union's job to haul its ass into the 21st century to accommodate me and the other customers. I'm very happy with One Credit Union for giving me a small auto loan with a low interest rate and for not charging overdraft fees on debits [only for checks]. However, I am really infuriated with them for their lack of updated technology. Do they still think people are banking in person with actual bills or something??? August, my Buddy Doll April, came yesterday in pieces. I need to clean and restring her. Having never restrung a doll before [with proper tools], I seek hemostats, among other things. I called the local Walgreen's to see if they sold hemostats.\ Me: Do you sell hemostats? Person 1: Let me check. [long pause, hold music, boredom] Person 2: Hello, Walgreen's. Me: Hi, I was wondering if you sell hemostats. Person 2: Can you spell that, please? Person 2: What's a hemostat? Me: It's a clamp thing. Person 2: Is it an over-the-counter product? Me: You know, if you aren't sure what it is, you probably don't carry it. Thanks. Goodbye. After my horrible experience with Clarke Demas and Baker’s disgustingly heteronormative policies, I searched for an explicitly GLBT-friendly estate planner in Vermont, vowing to ask if this one had up-to-date forms. One of the few firms whose site clearly mentioned experience with same-sex couples was Unsworth Law. Preliminarily, I can say that my experience with Unsworth has been much better than my experience with Clarke Demas and Baker. For one thing, the firm is clearly in touch with reality. For another, the legal assistant sympathized with my outrage at Clarke Demas and Baker. She could actually say the words “same-sex marriage,” which shouldn’t be that much to ask, but which made me feel very pleased. I’m going to a general seminar by Unsworth about estate planning next week. Further bulletins as events warrant. My financial advisor has been bugging me to make a will, power of attorney, health care agent, all that sort of thing, so I finally got around to scheduling an initial consultation. At my sister's recommendation, I chose Clarke Demas and Baker, a Vermont-based law firm, and scheduled an appointment. I received a PDF intake form for a single person, but wanted a Word document so I could make notes on it. When I received the Word intake form, I noticed that it was for married people, but I decided to use it anyway. Then I looked closely at the married intake form. It was divided into 2 columns, one labeled "Husband" and the other labeled "Wife." Outrage overcame me. [It does that a lot these days.] We've had marriage equality here in the state since 2009, but Clarke Demas and Baker apparently refuses to accept reality by simply changing their forms to read "Spouse 1" and "Spouse 2." They may have experience doing estate planning for same-sex couples, but their forms betray what they really think of us: we don't exist. I refuse to patronize a law firm that thinks I don't exist. My business is going elsewhere, and I'm telling them why. EDIT: I just explained to the legal assistant my cancellation and my reasons. I said that they should update their forms. She said, "I apologize; we do have a form for that." Now I'm really glad I'm not using their services. My God, if the legal assistant can't even say the phrase "same-sex marriage" and if, for some reason, there's a separate form [separate but no doubt "equal!"] for same-sex spouses, the firm clearly devalues me and my ilk. Following up on my entry earlier this year about sexism on a customer service line, I present the following conversation, which happened between me and the dental hygienist this morning. I was actually finding the poking, scraping and drilling much less annoying than usual, thanks to the hygienist's sense of humor and skills. Then we started talking about mouthwash. I asked for recommendations of alcohol-free mouthwash. I mentioned that "my fiancee" used mouthwash with alcohol, which I did not like because of its strong odor. Hygienist: "What kind does he use?" Me: "I don't know what SHE uses." Conversation continued with recommendations. So she automatically assumed that I was engaged to a guy because a) I look like a woman and b) the majority of marriages are between a man and a woman. However, given that spouses are not always 1 man + 1 woman, people should know better than to make that assumption, especially in Vermont, which is on the vanguard of marriage equality in the US. The definition of marriage has changed yet again, people. Get with the program! P.S. My FIANCE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? What fiance? P.P.S. Holy crap, the hygienist was not the only one behind the times. Just out of curiosity, I typed "define marriage" into Google. Merriam Webster's online dictionary says: "(1) the state of being united to a person of the opposite sex as husband or wife in a consensual and contractual relationship recognized by law (2) : the state of being united to a person of the same sex in a relationship like that of a traditional marriage" FAILURE. Just say "the state of being united to a person as a husband or wife…blah blah blah." reference.com/dictionary.com says something similar: "1. a. the social institution under which a man and woman establish their decision to live as husband and wife by legal commitments, religious ceremonies, etc. Antonyms: separation. b. a similar institution involving partners of the same gender: gay marriage. Antonyms: separation." FAILURE. It's all the same institution. Google's first dictionary result has the same problem: "1. The formal union of a man and a woman, typically recognized by law, by which they become husband and wife 2. A similar long-term relationship between partners of the same sex" THREE STRIKES AND YOU'RE OUT. It's not "a similar long-term relationship." It's the same thing! Not until Wiktionary do we get a more accurate definition, talking about an exclusive union between two or more people. Subdefinitions clarify that, in some jurisdictions, marriage is defined as being between 1 man + 1 woman, while other jurisdictions allow 2 partners of any sex to marry. But the main thing is the exclusive union. I actually like the Wikipedia entry the best, as it seems to capture the concept and purposes of marriage that have remained stable over time: "Marriage (also called matrimony or wedlock) is a social union or legal contract between people called spouses that creates kinship." Marriage is a grouping of people to create social units. Everything else varies. If you don't like that, you're on the losing side of history. We noticed yesterday that my work water bottle had yellow-green mold hanging around the bottom. :p Given that I haven’t replaced it since last July [it’s just a drug store water bottle with a squirt top], I decided to throw it out and get something else… This time my water bottle will be bigger and easier to clean…and I’ll put a recurrent reminder in my Outlook calendar to clean out the bottle at least every month. In GOOD news, the best bread in the state is made just diagonally across the street from my workplace at Great Harvest Bakery. I go there at least twice a week to stock up. They’re very sneaky, in that they give out free slices of some of the day’s creations. That’s how they hook you… Since I became addicted last summer, I have tried many types of bread, including the following: smoked Gouda and stout Gold Rush [a hearty bread with cornmeal] Mountain Crunch [a sweet bread with gold and brown raisins and cranberries] Popeye [has spinach] cran apple orange carrot cake cream cheese roll maple cinnamon chip blueberry coffee cake coconut almond tea bread green chili cheese They also make delicious BLT panini for lunch. Once upon a time, at some point in the previous millennium, Jill and I came across an amusing personals ad in Seven Days. The poster sought other gay men who knitted in the Northeast Kingdom. We thought that his chances of finding someone else who shared all those identities was vanishingly small, and "gay men who knit in the Northeast Kingdom" became a standard reference for a ridiculously specific set of conditions. Years later, I wonder how many gay men there are who knit in the Northeast Kingdom. Let's do the math, shall we? The Northeast Kingdom is a region in, obviously, the northeastern corner of Vermont, containing Essex, Orleans and Caledonia counties. That's a total of 64,764 people. We'll say that 50% of them are men. That leaves 32,382 men. Let's say 10% of them are gay. That leaves 3,238 gay men. But how many of them knit? A 2003 survey showed that 1,300,000 people in the US know how to knit. Dividing that into the total population of the US in 2000, which was 281,421,906, we get a ratio of approximately 0.00462, or, rounding up, 4.6:1000. Assuming that the ratio of knitters to the general US population remains stable from 2003 to 2010, that's about 15 gay men who knit in the Northeast Kingdom. Yup, that's a vanishingly small amount. And that's not even getting into the probability that the 14 others will even see the ad that the 1 put in the paper! "Podunk" exists in the U.S. imagination as a mythical town of such remoteness and emptiness that it epitomizes hillbilly rurality, but, interestingly enough, there are several places in the U.S. actually named Podunk. One, a subdivision of the extremely small town Wardsboro (population 854 as of 2000), exists in my home state, Vermont. A few years back, the Washington Post gave an interesting, if cursory, look at the place with the folklorically charged name. Podunk, located in Windham County in the extremely southern part of the state, flourished during the mid-1800s, peaking at 1000+ residents, most of whom were subsistence hill farmers. The population dwindled as residents of Wardsboro moved to better land or more industrialized places to live. By 1916, Podunk’s schoolhouse closed, and the forest began to overtake the once-cleared fields. Current residents sometimes happen upon abandoned foundations in the underbrush and, more poignantly, little cemeteries, mere family plots with a few markers. The population now numbers half a hundred full-timers, though that number may be increasing, at least on a seasonal basis. With the Mount Snow and Stratton Mountain ski areas nearby, Podunk now attracts vast vacation homes for skiers. Though Podunk is not an especially significant place, it is one with an interesting history, one that currently is being paved over by oblivious gentrification. In fact, I am one. Area Man Way Too Into Local County History.

A Review by Joey Madia Thanks in large part to horror films and cable “reality” paranormal shows, the immense amount of time and effort legitimate paranormal investigators spend in libraries and historical societies chasing down leads is largely ignored. Most people are only interested in the “sexy” aspects of the haunting or cryptid visitation—who got chased, frightened, possessed, or injured? What dark menace is lurking in the corner? Are there “jump scares” as the investigators walk insane asylum hallways in the green glow of night-vision technology? Viewers don’t realize that paranormal investigators are in large part journalists and historians, tracking down the history that provides the context for the paranormal phenomena at play. One of the world’s best known paranormal investigators was John Keel, of Mothman fame. He was also a journalist. So was his counterpart in the film The Mothman Prophecies. It is the journalist’s instincts for finding the hidden facts buried beneath or adjacent to the known ones that drive the good paranormal investigator. Christopher O’Brien’s Stalking the Herd, about cattle mutilations, is a thick, exhaustive testament to the value of mining newspaper clippings, police reports, and other firsthand accounts. My forthcoming book, Watch Out for the Hallway: Our Two-Year Investigation of the Most Haunted Library in North Carolina, co-authored with my wife Tonya, a talented medium, owes as much to dozens of hours of research as it does to the 150-plus hours we spent investigating the library itself. There were plenty of dead ends, but also corroborations and finds in the form of documents and photographs that made all the hours worth it, illuminating the messages we heard and physical phenomena we experienced. So I can appreciate the work that the three authors of The Van Meter Visitor put into this volume. I am taking my time with this aspect of the book because there are a surprising number of negative reviews of the book that sadly confuse indispensible research with “filler” of some kind. I hope this review serves in part to undo some of this mistaken criticism. Lewis, Voss, and Nelson (all of whom have impressive resumés in the field, as evidenced by the About the Authors section) situate a limited sighting of winged, horned cryptids over several nights in the small town of Van Meter, Iowa in 1903 in a series of expanding circles of interest. As one would expect, they begin by laying out the history of Van Meter, as well as all of the major players—the town’s business owners and other prominent citizens—who encountered the creatures. In this first section, appropriately titled “History,” they relate the story, which is fascinating reading, recalling similar winged cryptids like the Mothman, but with its own unique twists. This section is authored almost entirely by Lewis. The second section, “Theories,” is as strong as it is because the authors took the time to provide plenty of historical, geographical, economic, and human context. We already feel, 40 pages in, that we know and trust both the people of Van Meter and the authors themselves. In the “Theories” section the three authors look at a variety of possible explanations, including a primer on cryptids (featuring several similar cases such as the Jersey Devil), another on large birds of prey, the UFO/Alien connection that is prevalent in many cryptid sightings (such as of Mothman, Bigfoot, and Skinwalkers), thunderbirds and thoughtforms (the latter of which is currently of great interest because of the Slenderman phenomena), and ultraterrestrial theories (a standout survey chapter that runs 30-plus pages; the section on quantum physics and the holographic universe demonstrates that the authors are using all of our modern tools in their work). The three authors all contribute chapters to the closing section, “Final Thoughts.” Their summations responsibly explore a number of possible explanations and there are no firm statements made about what the citizens of Van Meter encountered 115 years ago. Their theories all connect back to the information from the previous two sections. Overall, The Van Meter Visitor serves a dual purpose: as a primer about the Van Meter mystery that allows the reader to pick up where the authors left off in their investigation, armed with abundant historical, sociological, and cryptological context (the two appendices offer a list of businesses operating in Van Meter in 1903 and an array of local and national newspaper accounts of the incident) and also as a handbook on the components—and countless hours—that go into a thorough paranormal investigation. As if these two aspects were not enough, an extra bonus is the Foreword by the recently deceased author of over 80 books on the paranormal and spirituality, Brad Steiger. The book also features abundant historical photographs of the people and places in Van Meter, many provided with help from the local library, which help to close the century-plus time gap for the reader. The Van Meter Visitor is a textbook example of how to do a thorough investigation written by seasoned, passionate professionals who bring to light a fascinating cryptid that has not yet gotten its fair share of attention and consideration. It should be a part of any investigator’s or enthusiast’s library, alongside Keel, Guiley, Redfern, Steiger, and the rest of the pillars of the field of paranormal investigation. Kudos to the authors on a job well done. TITLE: The Van Meter Visitor: A True & Mysterious Encounter with the Unknown AUTHORS: Chad Lewis, Noah Voss, and Kevin Lee Nelson PUBLISHER: On the Road Publications

Monsters, the human race has been fascinated by them for as long as we can remember. Ancient myths are full of terrible creatures from the other side; ghosts, orcs & goblins, gnomes & pixies, gorgans & gargoyles... We terrify our children with stories of bogiemen and boglins under the bed, monsters in the closet...why? Why do we have creatures all around our house that need to be placated or minor chaos will ensue? The Chronicles seized this folklore with eager hands once the Nephilim started to develop. We realised that we could use something like them, a race of sort of human creatures who possess an extra strand of DNA gifted to them by their angelic forebears. Now, angels, remember, are the precursor, purely spiritual beings with an obviously physical component somewhere that allows them to create a fully working human body around their astral one. That an angel would have DNA (twelve-stranded, no less) might sound counter-intuitive to some but, to us it is both logical and necessary. In order to pass on the kind of traits and problems experienced by the early Nephilim, there must be a genetic component. Why only one extra strand is passed on is just one of those things I am not going to explain, it just seems like the right number. As I said, the angels are the first form of 'life' in our universe (that we know of) and existed before our universe, technically, existed. It is therefore reasonable to assume that they were created with the same potential that other life came to inherit. When angels encarnated and took on flesh, their spiritual bodies expressed differences and these differences were passed onto the children they later 'fathered' with mortal women. It is safe also to assume that the DNA of the angels somehow 'learned' from earlier disasters and refined their zygotes so that they contained only three strands because all 12 meeting human DNA was not beneficial to the offspring's survival. This idea of DNA learning by itself is real and cutting edge science and, though it is far from being proven, this is a work of fiction isn't it? Monsters in the Dark So; this human need to have some horrible creature with lots of teeth, claws, and an ugly aspect concealed either under their bed or where they hang their clothes...why? The psychology is simple really, it's easier than explaining what is actually going on, especially when we don't actually know what that truly is. Also it might be part of a terrible and traumatising parenting practise which seems to be dying out; "Eat your dinner/go to sleep/tidy your room or the monster will get you!" Humans are, for the most part, quite an imaginative species. If we cannot explain something, then we'll invent something that can. We have Santa Claus to blame for the children not getting the presents they wanted for Christmas and for ensuring they behave in the run up to said festival. We also have monsters to explain other phenomena we are unable to explain. Also, children are very imaginative, creating iamginary friends and so forth as they learn at a terrifying rate and try to place all of this information in their very limited frame of reference. They love stories so the loving parents make them up for them as they try to add valuable lessons into them. They add witches, monsters, and so forth because nobody minds if something inhuman perishes to teach the dangers of not following the lesson. This is something we call the "Stormtrooper Accuracy Dilemma" which I am sure Star Wars fans will appreciate. One can easily be heroic and mow down dozens of seemingly faceless drones but intentionally ending the life of someone whose face you can see, whose eyes you can see the light fade from is quite a different challenge. Also, it's easier to blame unseen beings for your misfortunes than your own possible laxness, isn't it? Plagues were due to witches, Pestilence himself, and so forth. Rare genetic conditions such as haemophilia, serious albinism, hypertrichosis, porphyria, etc. probably gave birth to the werewolf and vampire myths. A love for drama or the inability to recognise common species may have contributed to others. Michael Critchton presented a great idea in his lesser know work called The Eaters of The Dead, his version of Beowulf. It claimed to be the historical origin of that story, based upon the recently re-discovered manuscript of an Arab traveller's diary of his journeys with Nordic traders and his adventures in their homeland. It was rather good and well done. It posited that the 'evil' Grendel of Beowulf were an isolated Neanderthal tribe who has somehow survived into what we would call 'Modern' times. When one considers there were still Mammoth in Europe while the pyramids were being built, it is a possibility. They could also explain orcs and goblins, perhaps. Encounters between black and while men, members of the the pictish and aryan tribes, so on and so forth could explain many other stories. It wasn't racism back then, it was unfamiliarity and, though no acceptable, one can understand demonising one's competitors for resources. Fear and unfamiliarity, as well as competition, can breed monsters too. Look at the witches and how they were demonised in England, Europe, and Massachussetts, for example. Of course, one cannot write a story based upon the fact that stories cannot be relied upon. That would be, in essence, self-defeating from the onset. We have, therefore, a more dramatic and fictional explanation in The Chronicles of Enoch. We have, as previously mentioned, the Nephilim. Now would be an excellent time, we feel, to familiarise yourselves with the of Nephilim section of our website, it is quite extensive and contains a lot of information we will skip over here. We decided to conduct quite an extensive study of monsters, cryptids, myths and strange beasts across the world and throughout history and try to fit them into our universe as confortably as possible. below are a few examples, the website gives others. Werecreatures and shapeshifters. There are various of the Nephilim genetypes that could help here; polymorphic or 'shifter' Nephilim can take on much of the responsibility for all manner of myth and monster; from lycanthropes to aliens and cryptids. It seems that the Golden Helix (angelic DNA strand combined with regular human) adds a certain plasticity of form to the Nephilim which makes them useful. The Jeepies, or General Purpose Nephilim shifter can change their physical form at will and appear as pretty much anything they have been shown and or can imagine as long as it is organic. Aliens and cryptids. As we've already mentioned, Jeepies and similar Nephilim shifters have masqueraded as aliens and some of the more exotic kinds of humaoid cryptid in the past for reasons known only to their masters. Asmodeus is rumoured to be the mastermind of this particular enterprise. Vampires. This is almost exclusely the realm of the Strigoi variety of shifter. As we have seen, Striga such as Lorasta are afflicted with a genetic disorder that makes them both partially mortal and able to access abilities that involve feeding from a human victim's soul. They do not drink blood and cannot eat or drink anything much at all, being pure energy feeders. They are, however, unable to control their physical form and fury when feeding and, therefore, tend to spill an awful lot of blood in the process. Zombies. This is a difficult one. There is an extremely rare class of Nephilim, deemed mythical by most of them, known as Isochronals. These extremely rare and powerful creatures can recover from any injury or wound, including almost complete distruction of their physical form. Their body can regenerate from scraps of tissue and, the only change they experience when recovered is a change of face. It is as if their surviving DNA reboots upon regenerating them. A certain fictional time-travelling alien medical professional is said to have been based on an Isochronal encounter. So, humans adore invention and imagination, it's common and obvious, their history is replete with examples. Most of the mosters their history is filled with can easily be explained by misunderstanding, trying to explain unknown species or myopic inspection thereof. Others simply embody our fears or are due to rare genetic disorders. Taking all this into account, one would think that today, in this age of Science, where so many of these things have been explained and Reason is more common, that there would be no monsters left. That is not, however, even close to being the case. Nort only to be have the more ethnic and mythic monsters now but we have cryptids, the local monster or beast of x-town or geographical feature, BigFoot, and so many others. We appear to believe in more monsters than we did before and even think there are conspiracies to hide their presences from us.... It appears that our stories have not been disproven, they story has simply changed or been made more complicated.

Trenton Doyle Hancock at MASS MoCA Mind of the Mound: Critical Mass By: Charles Giuliano - Mar 10, 2019 For the next year Building 5, the largest gallery at MASS MoCA, has a new tenant. There is always some suspense as mid winter from its inception visitors anticipate how the designated artist will negotiate the challenge of the most daunting space for contemporary art in North America. Over the years it has been sorted to two basic approaches. The glass is either half empty or half full. One impulse is to cram it full with aesthetic detritus or to set off an installation and let it breathe allowing one to absorb and feel the magnificent vaulted space. The aesthetic success of these projects have ranged from the sublime to ridiculous. Hit or miss may be another way of putting it. This year’s installation Mind of the Mound: Critical Mass by epic scaled and zealous cartoonist/ illustrator Trenton Doyle Hancock feels rather tween. Working with the MoCA staff of fabricators and installers most of the content is site specific. There are large and small paintings that appear to have been created in the studio. The windowless back room under the balcony has billboard scaled banners that have been printed. There are more large and small paintings on the balcony. From its edge we have a view down into the space. This provides a panorama of a spiral with large, brightly colored floor panels that provide a path or guided tour through the raucous, stridently graphic exhibition. From the steps of the entrance to the gallery we enjoy a first encounter, in cuatorial parlance “The Approach,” as we launch into the artist’s eccentric world. It entails ersatz action figures, oddly chubby caped crusaders of color, and a cornucopia of sci fi inspired narrative. We first encounter a house, the entrance to which is fenced off and populated with a line of kids trick or treating. They wear Halloween costumes and masks. The back of the house has been sliced off to reveal a vintage, uninhabited interior evoking generic Americana. On the wooden beams above the space is hand written “The Devil Made Me Do It.” Indeed. There are a number of tent like or mound structures of varying scale. Visitors were filtering in and out of them. One igloo-like interior was lined with shelves on which were displayed stacks of toys. One assumes they conveyed aspects of the artist’s inventive and complex narrative. We made our way through a post-modern, FAO Schwarz toy store. The extensive display of toys in various configurations recalled the stepped pyramid themed sculptures of local artist Jarvis Rockwell. They have been shown quite often in North Adams pop up galleries as well as at MASS MoCA. The coincidence was not lost on seasoned MoCA visitors who asked Jarvis about the similarity. We had a curious interaction. He acknowledged the similarity of material but noted that he uses it in a different manner. I asked Jarvis if he and Hancock compete for toys on E Bay? He wasn’t sure what I meant so I explained. “I’m 87-years-old” he said “So I don’t even have a computer.” He added sincerely “Do you have one?” I answered that indeed I do and am using it right now to write this piece. The curators and staff of MASS MoCA are quite serious folks. But with this exhibition, it would appear that like Cyndi Lauper this time round, they just want to have fun. Post Derrida that seems a bit odd but why the heck not? This is arguably a show for all ages. The appeal primarily is for the young or all least the young at heart. As to what it means here is the artist’s statement. About 50,000 years ago an ape man named Homerbuctas masturbated in a field of prehistoric flowers giving birth to a legend, no, “The” Legend. For years, there have been reports of large, furry, smelly heaps residing in wooded areas around the world. These reports are supposed sightings of the cryptid (creature not yet verified by science), simply known to cryptozoologists as Mounds. I am, for reasons that I can’t quite explain, connected to these mysterious Mound creatures. I share a psychic bond with each Mound. I am ground control, and they are my satellites. I remember things that they have done, and I recall things that they have seen even after they are dead. I am able to inhabit the reality of the Mounds. Therefore, it has become my duty to document the goings-on in their realm, an alternate space that exists in hidden Earthly pockets. I have come to know these spatial accumulations as The Moundverse. The first Mound I learned of was in 1997, at which time I began chronicling his life. This Mound was called Mound #1, The Legend. In the year 2000, I began telling the tale of this Mound’s demise at the hands of Vegan rebels.” – Trenton Doyle Hancock

If you’re like me, when you visit a new city you make a stop at the local museum to see what they have to offer. It’s a great way to soak in the culture, and it gives you something to do instead of hitting the bars at an ungodly hour. But if the typical science or history museum isn’t exciting enough for you, you might need to find a spot that really gets your blood pumping. Here are some of the strangest, creepiest, and sometimes most hilarious little museums in the country. 1. Museum of Sex in New York, NY Despite featuring reams of pornography displayed on its walls, the Museum of Sex in Manhattan is allowed within the 500 feet of church institutions not granted to strip clubs and porn stores. The current hot exhibits at the popular adults-only museum include Sex Among the Lotus: 2500 Years of Chinese Erotic Obsession and GET OFF: Exploring the Pleasure Principles. 2. International Cryptozoology Museum in Portland, ME We all know the cryptid classics such as Big Foot, the Loch Ness monster, and the Yeti, but this museum also features regional hits like Dover Demon, the Montauk Monster, the Jersey Devil, skunk apes, and even some relatively unknowns like “giant beavers.” 3. Museum of Death in Los Angeles, CA This LA museum’s cheerful slogan is “make people happy to be alive,” and proceeds to do so by showing them a variety of historical items related to death. They’ve got baby coffins, taxidermy animals, artwork from serial killers, a recreation of the Heaven’s Gate mass suicide (featuring the original beds), and even the severed head of serial killer Henri “Bluebeard” Landru! 4. Vent Haven Museum in Fort Mitchell, KY Claiming to be the “only museum in the world dedicated to the art of ventriloquism,” this museum features a lot of heavy hitters in the dummy world, such as Charlie McCarthy, Cecil Wigglenose, and Jacko. Don’t know who these guys are? Then you probably had a very sane childhood. 5. Warren Anatomical Museum in Boston, MA Inside Harvard’s Medical School lies this 15,000-item collection of strange anatomical specimens, including the skull of Phineas Gage, the railroad worker remembered for receiving an iron rod through his head and surviving. 6. House on the Rock in Dodgeville, WI Designed by the mysterious and eccentric architect Alex Jordan Jr., this labyrinth of weirdness features, among other things, a large collection of Santa Claus figures, a 200-foot model of a sea monster, and the world’s largest indoor carousel. 7. UFO Museum and Research Center in Roswell, NM No one does extraterrestrial speculation quite like Roswell. This museum may be light on the actual facts, but it’s heavy on the fog machines and memorabilia from the famous 1947 “crash.” 8. The Warren’s Occult Museum in Monroe, CT Ed and Lorraine Warren, the famous investigators of the Amityville haunting opened up their own paranormal-themed museum in the back of their Connecticut home. It features shrunken heads, vampire coffins, and the cursed doll Annabelle herself. 9. Porter Sculpture Park in Montrose, SD Using scrap metal from old railroads and antique farm equipment, Wayne Porter built several absolutely bizarre sculptures way out in the middle of nowhere. Among them are dragons, a giant bowl of fish, and an ox head approximately the size of one of the Rushmore heads. 10. Meguro Parasitological Museum in Tokyo, Japan Immerse yourself in 45,000 different specimens of parasites, including the world’s longest tape worm, stretching nearly 29 feet long! There you have it, the least pretentious museums in the country! They’re all admittedly off-putting, but somehow less disgusting than when the MET asks you for a $20 donation. Read more: http://www.viralnova.com/weird-museums/

Well it’s January 5th, the 12th night of Christmas. Most years I celebrate the season from the Winter Solstice straight through to the 12th night. Of course this year was different, no parties, dinners or gatherings. One thing that wasn’t different was the steady stream of orders from my websites, custom work and online shows. I’m grateful for the opportunity to exhibit my work online, from my home and to complete a number of different custom pieces, from my niece Katie’s wedding rings early in December to a set of anniversary keychains that will be presented later this week. A highlight for me were the pieces that finally arrived at their recipients today, who are parked at a goat farm in Arizona, just in time for the last day of Christmas. See, my kid and their best friend, Coriander who is really more like a sister, have been off traveling the country in Gerti, their RV, for the last six months. It’s an interesting story, but it’s their story, not mine, so if you want to learn more about their grand adventure follow their Facebook group, the Cryptid Camper Crew . For Gwen’s gift, I got to a long imagined redesign of my puzzle ring and since the kid has been wanting my hand wrought version for a number of years now, I sent the first version of the new design to them. Now me and the kid are wearing matching rings. Coriander told me about an idea for a ring last summer. It’s been on my mind for a while and I managed to squeeze it in with all the other work this holiday season. Her ring says, Be Curious Be Kind. Coriander wrote a post about its meaning on her Patreon page. Which I highly encourage you to join if you love to look at beautiful art adventures. Both of these rings will be available for sale. Each year I try to attend the annual conference of the Society of North American Goldsmiths aka SNAG. Since the first time I joined this group, I’ve felt like they are my art jewelry tribe and each year my friendships there deepen. This was my fifth time, so I did a few Instagram posts to cover the highlights, follow the links in the images to see more. I’m really excited looking forward to next year when the SNAG conference will be taking place here in Philadelphia! When I’m not working in my studio this is one of the places where you can find me. I really appreciate all the support of the Northeast Times, and reporter Logan Krum, in shining a light on the emerging arts scene in Northeast Philadelphia. This week Logan came out to the LAB for an interview and to get a look around. Here’s the article he wrote. I got a new title this past week- Craft Pusher. I think I’ll embrace it. It happened when I was teaching an introductory workshop in needle felting, also known as dry felting, at the Tacony LAB. The “LAB” is a community art center in the local neighborhood where I live in Northeast Philadelphia and I work there as a coordinator as well as instructor. I had eight students around the tables shaping wool roving into small whimsical forms. None of them had ever tried needle felting before and each person was enjoying it immensely with the room experiencing periods of near silence with only the sound of poking needles. The classes at the Tacony LAB are free and include all supplies. Introductory classes like this are a great way to try out a craft you are interested in without investing in tools and materials. In the course of the workshop, it became apparent that many of the participants wanted to continue in the new techniques they had learned. “These free workshops are really starting to cost me.” one lady said with a laugh. “I’ll need to go buy some of these needles and the wool.” “Tell me about it!” said another. “I took the Intro to Enameling and enjoyed it so much that I bought a kiln!” In the course of the discussion that followed, I was labeled as a Craft Pusher. I’m happy to embrace it, as I have found it a delightful experience to bring new techniques and art forms to students who may not otherwise get the chance. In the course of the workshop, I was busy working on an experimental piece that combined both vitreous enameling and needle felting into an eye pin or brooch. My life has always been surrounded by craft. Tools, materials and processes have shaped my approach both as an artist and educator. It fuels my curiosity about the ways that different techniques can be used in new ways. As a jeweler, interaction with the body and wear-ability are as important as the quality of the work, but as an artist and process geek, I can not help but constantly investigate new ways of making. Here’s a post from the Tyler Blog. It’s an overview of my artist life as well as the specifics of the Leeway Art and Change grant that I received last Fall. It was from a while ago, but still pertinent. During the late 1990s I lived on a sailboat docked on Toms River in Pine Beach, NJ. It was a beautiful place to live, but I was feeling a little isolated from friends and family. I was able to connect online with a group of women that eventually formed the core of an intentional family for me. We met in diners, each other’s homes and sometimes on the beach to celebrate the seasons. It was a magical time that lasted almost three years. As time passed we scattered, but all of these women still hold a special place in my heart. Sophia probably wandered the most, moving to the UK for several years and then returning to the US to settle in Maryland. Sometime last Fall she returned to her native Ohio to be with family and start anew. I was delighted to hear from her in November.

While walking down a dark stretch of rural road, a pair of teenage girls had a terrifying run-in with a peculiar pack of creatures, which, quite simply, should not exist. Episode Reference Links: STUMPS: (OREGON, USA) Cryptonaut Podcast Tee Public Merch Store: Cryptid Crate Unboxing Video: Visit http://cryptidcrate.com and use promo code “GRAMPUS” at checkout to get 10% off The entire life of your subscription!