INTRODUCING: COSMIC HORROR MONTHLY

Cosmic Horror Monthly ~ the first four issues

We're now halfway through the month of October -- or, as I prefer to call it, "Halloweenuary" -- and as the days grow short, I know some of you are on the prowl for reading material to put a chill in your bones to match the chill in the crisp Autumn air.

If you're a fan of the creepy, the macabre, the monstrous or the otherwise otherworldly, then you owe it to yourself to explore the newly minted online literary journal, Cosmic Horror Monthly. 

You can either subscribe for a very low fee, or dip into the numerous samples -- a wonderful mix of old and new, of classics and obscurities -- offered up for free at their website. Either way, the price is right, they publish new cosmic horror works of the absolute top rank, and it's not too late to get in on the ground floor of an enterprise that I suspect will soon become a vital force in the world of serious horror literature.

I hope to see you there!

MEDIA DIARY ~ FILMS, OCT 31, 2019

Yes, I know, these should all be horror films in honor of Halloween, right? Well, screw that, man. Just because I mostly watch horror movies, that doesn't mean I don't watch other kinds of movies, too. So now, without further ado, here are my bullet and bullet-ish reviews for a bunch of movies from a bunch of different eras, in a bunch of different genres, just as a way for me to remind myself that I've seen them. Let's go!

HORROR NOIRE ~ This 2019 documentary is currently only available to see on the excellent horror-themed specialty streaming service Shudder.com, which I hereby recommend to one and all. Shudder is currently offering a free trial offer, and the monthly fee is ridiculously affordable, so why not give it a try? Especially considering the quality of some of their exclusive offerings, of which Horror Noire, as I mentioned above, is one. 

Basically, this doc covers the arc of Black people’s portrayal and participation in horror film and fandom. The filmmakers and their many interview subjects (an impressive roster of talents indeed) guide us through every period, starting at the beginning of film history, when slavery was still within living memory for millions of Americans and the only Black people you would ever see on film were white people in Blackface. We then move through the days when Blacks were seen as either monstrous or as comic relief, through the earliest DIY days of an emerging Black cinema, past the first inklings of social awareness and into the revolutionary spirit of the Civil Rights era, which brings us to the single most pivotal moment in all of Black Horror cinema: George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead. 

That’s when things really get complicated… and truly interesting. As you can imagine, this film tells a story that is heartbreaking, enraging, thought-provoking, and ultimately inspirational and cautiously optimistic, culminating as it does with the paradigm-shattering Oscar-winning Jordan Peele film Get Out. A great documentary, and essential viewing for fans of horror, as well as students of Black cinema and art in general.

THE INFLUENCE ~ Although it trods upon familiar territory, this 2019 Spanish language offering—based on a novel by Ramsey Campbell, one of the world’s greatest living horror writers—the acting and production values are sufficiently good, and the scares sufficiently creepy and earned, that The Influence qualifies as elevated genre fare. And while it’s true that the story (which veers significantly far afield of the source novel) shares much with the basic plot of the 2017 masterpiece, Hereditary, which is a comparison that does The Influence no favors at all… there's still enough dread and suspense to keep even the most casual horror fan's attention throughout. The addition of a few really good, high quality freak-out scenes—and some subliminal elements destined to set your short hairs on end—make this an excellent choice for the Halloween season. Speaking of which, why don't we go ahead and just change the name of October to Halloween already?!

DOLOMITE IS MY NAME ~ My expectations were running high when I saw the first previews for Eddie Murphy’s supposed “comeback” film, especially when I learned that it was going to be a biopic of legendary Blaxploitation sensation Rudy Ray Moore, aka Dolomite. I first fell in love with Eddie Murphy, as so many of my generation did, on Saturday Night Live, and I’ve continued to be an admirer, even through the years when, let’s face it, Eddie became sort of a parody of himself. I mean, everybody knows how cringe “Party All the Time” was, but how many among you have heard “Love’s All Right”? I have, because I’m a glutton for punishment. 

Dolomite Is My Name, however, surpassed my expectations. It's funny, yes, with some truly inspired moments of true-to-life lunacy. But more importantly, it’s a beautiful, lovingly put together biopic that manages to focus on the tenderness, humanity, and sense of family, to the point where it shines brightly through the onslaught of misogynistic patter, cartoon violence and raunch that dominated the whole Dolomite act. 

Also, I admit to coming pretty close to tearing up when I saw that the movie was "Lovingly Dedicated to Charlie Murphy (1959-2017)", particularly as, at multiple times throughout my first viewing, I found myself thinking “Darkness would have loved this!” Dolomite Is My Name is a must-see for any Eddie Murphy fan, past or present, as well as anyone looking for just a really good movie in general.

MIDSOMMAR ~ Jesus Fucking Nailholes, is Midsommar ever good! The second film by Ari Aster, after his magnificent debut film Hereditary, is an absolute, unmitigated masterpiece. An instant classic. A glorious cinematic achievement on pretty much every conceivable level, right down to the sound design. Not only does Midsommar live up to the ridiculously high standard set by Aster’s first film... it exceeds them.

Once again, Aster provides a sophisticated philosophical meditation on the concepts of grief and loss, wrapped up in the garb of a highbrow "folk horror" film in the vein of The Wicker Man.  After a family tragedy, Dani accepts a halfhearted invitation by her boyfriend Christian to join him and his friends on a trip to Sweden, where they've been invited to attend a remote midsummer festival by their Swedish friend Pele. Christian has been meaning to end his relationship with Dani for a while now, but feels that he can’t, due to the massive loss she’s just suffered. 

So, it’s off to Sweden they go, with Christian’s fellow Anthropology PhD candidate Josh, their ne’er do well buddy Mark, and Pele, who originally hails from the village where the festival is taking place. The weirdness begins pretty much upon arrival, with free-flowing psychedelics, bizarre living arrangements, strange food, customs and traditions that serve to keep everyone at least slightly off balance for the duration. 

And that’s all you’re getting out of me. Just understand that no true horror connoisseur may skip this film and still consider themselves as such. Your future status as a genre know-it-all depends entirely upon your having seen, and grappled with, the monumental high-water mark that is Midsommar.

CAST A DEADLY SPELL ~ We’re going all the way back to 1991 for this ripe slice of cheezy noir! I’ve long wanted to see this movie, even if only because it stars Fred Ward as a hard boiled detective named H.P. Lovecraft, and it takes place in a late 1940’s world where humans co-exist with monsters and demons, and the use of magic, spells, potions and trinkets has become the norm. I suppose that makes Cast a Deadly Spell the cinematic ancestor of that Will Smith movie on Netflix, Bright. 

Try not to hold that against it though, because while Cast a Deadly Spell never takes itself too seriously, it holds back on the slapstick just enough to make the stakes actually feel like they count for something. That’s probably due in large part to the uniformly excellent cast, from Ward on down to the femme fatale, played by a so-young-it-hurts Julianne Moore, and Lovecraft’s dual nemeses, played by the always awesome genre stalwarts Clancy Brown and David Warner. 

The plot revolves around a stolen copy of the Necronomicon, and Yog-Sothoth makes an appearance, and other than the protagonist’s name, that’s about the full extent of the Lovecraft elements at play here. Still, it’s a really fun movie, which makes you wonder why it never got a DVD or Blu Ray release (only VHS so far, with one of the ugliest boxes you’ve ever laid eyes on). 

You can read more about the movie at Dan Stout's blog, if you’re interested. And if you know how to use torrents, Cast a Deadly Spell pops up semi-regularly at most of the preferred spots… but you’re gonna have to dig for it, like I did. 

ENEMY ~ The first time I watched Denis Villeneuve’s 2013 film Enemy, I did not like it. Like, at all. It seemed to me like a sort of anti-Dead Ringers, with Jake Gyllenhaal playing two characters that were, for all intents and purposes, barely differentiated (as opposed to the incredible dual performances Jeremy Irons gave in Chronenberg’s aforementioned film). 

Upon recently revisiting Enemy, I believe that, this time, I caught the method in the madness. I was also far more impressed by all the wonderful grace notes, including the incredible score, the deliberate pacing and floating camera work, the ingenious use of Louise Bourgeois’ giant spider sculpture as a motif representing… misogyny, perhaps? Or the ever-looming potential, the ever-creeping approach, of totalitarian tendencies in the Modernist remnant of our post-modern world? Both? 

As a Torontonian, I also really admired Villeneuve’s sense of both space and place, the way he shows us mostly empty public spaces—parking lots, parks, apartment lobbies—surrounded by the distant humming ribbons of highways packed bumper-to-bumper with omnipresent traffic. The looming beige and eggshell concrete. I can see how this film would make a really excellent companion piece to another Cronenberg film: Crash. Like Cronenberg did in that film, Villneuve really captures this city to a T. Very much recommended!

BLUE VELVET ~ I haven’t watched Blue Velvet since when it first came out on VHS, which I suspect was 1987. I didn’t much care for it at the time, but that’s probably because it flew way over my head. 

In the years since, I’ve become a great admirer of David Lynch’s work, both in film and on TV. This includes going back and reviewing his films, from Eraserhead, through Elephant Man and Dune, to Wild at Heart, then Lost Highway, that whole Twin Peaks thing, Mulholland Drive, and Inland Empire. And yet, I’ve always managed to avoid going back to Blue Velvet. I think I might have been afraid of it, to be perfectly honest. 

Well, I recently set that wrong to rights, sitting down with Blue Velvet for the first time in decades and giving it my full, undivided attention. And guess what? It’s fucking great. And even though it still isn’t at the top of my list of personal favorites of his work, I can still see how it earned its reputation. 

Blue Velvet is really something different and distinct from anything that was being produced back then, walking a fine line between standard neo-noir and WTF?-level batshit insanity. If you haven’t seen it recently, and especially if you’ve never seen it, I urge you to pay Lumberton a visit and really see where, in a great many ways, the whole David Lynch Americana thing kicked off in earnest. 

BLUE MY MIND ~ Slow-moving, heavy-handed Swiss (I think) “coming of age” movie from 2017 that once again uses the metaphor of mermaids to signify a girl going through puberty. But that doesn’t explain why she keeps eating Mom’s goldfish! I mean, they’re cheap as chips, girl! Go buy your own! 

Anyway, I guess I sat through the whole thing without fast-forwarding, which I suppose says something for it. But I’m becoming less and less tolerant of kitchen sink type family dramas that gussy themselves up as tales of the supernatural or the otherworldly, just in the hopes of attracting the pre-existing audience for such fare. You can always tell when those elements are just tacked on, or when the filmmakers’ hearts aren’t really into it, and this film comes perilously close to being a case in point. 

Also, everyone involved in this deserves a hard spanking for that title alone. I mean, Blue My Mind?! Come the fuck on. The lead actress was pretty good, though.

MEDIA DIARY ~ JULY 22, 2019

Sorry it's been so long since my last Media Diary. I've been busy with personal stuff lately. Anyway, this blog post is to let y'all know that I've begun reading Black Wings of Cthulhu volume 5, and I'll be reviewing each story on an individual basis, a few at a time, over the next few diary entries. So let's get started, shall we?

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BLACK WINGS OF CTHULHU 5
Twenty New Tales of Lovecraftian Horror, Edited by S.T. Joshi

“Plenty of Irem”, by Johnathan Thomas ~ Set in modern day Kingsport, the protagonist has decided to get a feel for the town before beginning his job as a “capital campaign manager and PR troubleshooter at Kingsport Community College” (formerly Kingsport Freemason’s College) on the morrow.

While checking out one of its ancient cemeteries, he spots an old barn type building with a sign identifying it as the “Mugford Museum of Quaint Kingsport”, and decides to investigate. Once inside, he finds the place empty of people, with just a few mannequins in colonial dress and a container with a hand-written sign requesting a donation of $10.

Feeling the place must not get too many visitors, he pays double out of pity, only to be surprised when one of the mannequins turns out to be Eldred Mugford, proprietor and museum guide, who thanks the protagonist profusely for his “liberality” and proceeds to interrogate him, in an oddly buzzing voice, about his familial background on both sides. Then, after forcing his guest to partake of a “jonnnycake” (or journeycake), he leads him down to the basement—hewn out of solid black granite—where the exhibits are kept.

Here is where the author lets his imagination (and the fruits of his arcane research) blossom into something truly beautiful, bordering on crackpot genius, for the exhibits are all chock-a-block with legitimate lashings of weird history. Among the items on display are “the formal sable tiara of the grandmaster of the furrier’s guild in Norumbega” and an elaborately scrimshawed “demon’s baby tooth from the Himalayan caves descending to the ghost-infested citadel of Agartha”. Borges would have loved it.

The other exhibits in this underground showroom are stranger still, as is, increasingly, the behavior of his guide, causing the protagonist to fear for his safety with increasing alarm. When it comes to the story’s ultimate revelation of a vision from beyond, Thomas’s writing style is effective and, when called for, terrifying.

This story has everything you could want from weird fiction: otherworldly creatures, inexplicable dark visions, mysteries beyond understanding, and even a diabolical mannequin or three. A truly excellent Lovecraftian tale.

“Diary of a Sane Man”, by Nicole Cushing ~ This intriguing short narrative takes the form of a diary charting the rapid descent into madness that befalls a loving husband and father of two after he takes a nasty slip and suffers head injury during a moonlit winter’s walk. Or was he really primed to lose his grip on reality from the start? And is that even what happens to him? After all, who are we to judge his shifting perspective on life, as described in this story? It can hardly be described as inaccurate, what with its firm grounding in evolutionary theory. A smart and captivating story that rewards multiple reads, and is short enough to justify them. Another excellent entry.

“The Woman in the Attic”, by Robert H. Waugh ~ This collection’s third first-person entry in a row, and its second that takes the form of a diary, “The Woman in the Attic” is an alternative, ostensibly feminist re-telling of the story of Abigail “Nabby” Gardener, the doomed housewife from the equally doomed family in HP Lovecraft’s legendary novella, “The Colour Out of Space”. An intriguing literary exercise that takes just a few too many unnecessary liberties with the original for my tastes, it nevertheless features some emotionally resonant passages relating to the status of women in the all-too-recent past (who were, in many ways, women in attics). However, if you’re a man trying to write a story in a feminist vein, maybe don’t have your main character have sexual congress with a space rock? Just a thought. The story remains a decent offering, despite my minor quibbles.

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TELEVISION

LIMMY’S SHOW ~ Have you seen this bonkers sketch show from Scottish comedian Brian Limmond yet? It first aired on Scottish BBC about eight years ago, and lasted three seasons. Every single episode is currently available on Youtube (you can start with the first episode of the first series, above), as well as on Netflix in a bunch of countries (I'm watching it in Canada).

However, viewer beware! Due to some music rights issues, almost every single episode of Limmy's Show features missing or shortened skits! I’ve actually gone to the trouble of cataloging all these missing skits on the episodes' respective Youtube pages (see comments from Mark Thibodeau), but if anyone expresses further interest, I’ll post those corrections here, too. 

Anyway, I’m addicted to this damned show, as I’ve never encountered a sense of humor quite like Limmy’s before… at least, not on television shows, or in the movies or anything. He truly appears to suffer from some of the same mental illness issues that I do, which makes his show utterly relatable. Maybe you’ll find it as engrossing as yer old pal Jerky does!

COMING SOON…

I’m currently in the midst of reading Dark Star Rising: Magick and Power in the Age of Trump, for which I will be creating a reader’s guide in the very near future… something not quite as in depth as my concordances for, say, In the Dust of This Planet, or Season of the Witch, but which will nevertheless contain all the most important information contained within this book, distilled down to a single blog post. In fact, the reason why I’m reading this book is because it serves as background research for my ongoing project, which I’ve been working on for over two years now. It's about my theory regarding the New Fascist International(e) conspiracy I keep harping on over at the Daily Dirt Diaspora blog. So keep your eyes peeled here, and at the DDD, for more updates, soon!

READING DIARY, SATURDAY, MAY 25, 2019

BLACK WINGS OF CTHULHU 6 (concluded!)
Twenty-One New Tales of Lovecraftian Horror, Edited by S.T. Joshi

“Satiety”, by Jason V Brock ~ A strange story about a Lord Vanderbulle, superstar horror writer and Mary Sue extraordinaire, who has taken a beautiful young fan named Anastasia as a lover, and brought her to his exclusive high-rise condominium in Dubai to take part in an annual gastronomical “Festival” of his own design. Most of this tale is taken up by a tone deaf and unfortunate political dialogue between the two, with Anastasia playing the part of the petulant and accusatory young “SJW” stereotype who thinks that defending Lovecraft and Roald Dahl makes one a white supremacist, and Lord, that of the worldly, wise, exasperated older liberal who argues that Lovecraft’s racism couldn’t be THAT bad if the subcontinental academic S.T. Joshi (yes, the editor of this collection) thinks so highly of him. Anyway, the argument soon dies down and the story goes in one of the three directions that it could possibly go from that point on. A so-so entry.

“Provenance Unknown”, by Stephen Woodworth ~ Now this is more like it! The final story of this anthology features rarities broker Erin Vance getting a chance to acquire the legendary Aldon-Bennington Object, a cursed item found by explorers during a doomed, all but forgotten early 20th century voyage to the Antarctic. One of Erin’s clients has been trying to get their hands on this object for a long time, and now, at last, an associate in the world of elite procurement (Aram) has laid hands upon it, along with all the proper documentation, and he’s willing to sell. But he won’t be letting it go for cheap.

Erin asks for, and receives, permission to take photographs of the item—which appears to be a pyramidal chunk of meteorite with a partially exposed, cat-sized sculpture of a beetle/lobster looking thing embedded in the center—and a holding period of two days, to examine the documentation for herself and discuss the purchase with her client. Pretty soon, however, her dreams take on a weird cast, and she decides that she wants the item for herself. Lucky for her, she gets a call from Aram, who has suddenly become desperate to be rid of the thing, causing him to cut his asking price in half. Erin arranges for the funds, rushes over and takes possession of the item… but then, disturbing coincidences begin to take place, causing Erin to enlist the aid of a chemist friend, to help fully authenticate the item.

And that’s all I’m going to say about that, aside from declaring “Provenance Unknown” to be one of the best stories of this collection.

“The Well”, by D L Myers ~ While I’m not a fan of horror poetry, this one was quite lovely, and it served as a more than fitting coda to the collection… right down to its final line.

***

And that’s it for Black Wings of Cthulhu Volume 6! I’ve reviewed every story and poem in this book, and now, I’m ready to move on to something completely different… i.e., a novel, most likely Matthew Stokoe’s COWS, a cult novel that I’ve heard is among the most disturbing works of fiction in recent years. I’m really looking forward to it! Also, I’ll be continuing to update this media diary with quick announcements of any movies or TV shows of note that I watch, and of course, graphic novels and comic books.

Cheers!
yer old pal Jerky

READING DIARY, FRIDAY, MAY 24, 2019

This Friday was an interesting one for yer old pal Jerky. I was summoned to a meeting of the Toronto Landlord Tenant Board as a witness on my landlord’s behalf, in an effort to help her evict a truly terrible tenant from the building where I live.

The tale of this nightmarish neighbor of mine is a long one, and I hope to eventually write it all down for posterity’s sake. For now, however, thanks to what can only be described as abject malpractice on the part of the sole adjudicator for the case, suffice it to say that the nightmare tenant “won”. This, apparently due to the fact that the adjudicator in question was in a big rush to get to the cottage this weekend, causing her to dismiss the case for “insufficient evidence”, roughly 20 minutes after she instructed the landlord’s lawyer to release all the witnesses who’d shown up, because “we already have their written statements” and hearing from us would have been “redundant” and a waste of her time.

So, what does all this mean? Basically, it means that my fellow witnesses and I now have to continue sharing our building with a dangerous, drug-addled lunatic with a long history of violent criminality… only now, she knows which of us are her “enemies”. Actually, everybody in the building wants her gone, but only those of us who did the right thing and showed up when summoned are likely to be targeted for reprisals. Yes, it sure is fun, being thrown under the bus by a massively incompetent city official!

I mean, seriously… is it literally impossible to evict someone in Toronto these days? We’re talking about a tenant who, above and beyond her recent involvement in a strong-arm robbery during which insecticide was sprayed into the eyes of an elderly woman, engages in non-stop, round the clock screaming fits in the hallways, and marathon door-slamming sessions that go on for hours. We’re talking about someone who broke into a bunch of other tenants’ mailboxes, kicked in her part-time boyfriend’s apartment windows, and has engaged in countless acts of wanton vandalism. The building bears the scars of her passing on literally EVERY FLOOR, with giant holes punched into the walls wherever there’s a doorknob that can reach. We’re talking about someone who has physically assaulted the elderly landlords! Elderly landlords who have gone through all the proper legal steps to have this lunatic evicted from their building, not only for their sake but for the sake of all their other tenants, only to be told: “Nah. Screw all that. That crazy, dangerous tenant gets to stay.”

What the hell more cause does a landlord need before they can evict a tenant? Hallways covered in blood?! A dead body?!

Anyway, the lawyer for the landlord has already filed an appeal of the Board’s inexplicable and indefensible decision, and myself and some of the other witnesses are going to be filing an official complaint about the adjudicator’s behavior at the hearing. I’ll keep you all posted about the situation, either here at the Mediavore, as part of my media diaries, or at my catch-all hobby blog, Daily Dirt Diaspora. For now, however, let’s get to the reading!

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BLACK WINGS OF CTHULHU 6 (continued)
Twenty-One New Tales of Lovecraftian Horror, Edited by S.T. Joshi

“To Move Beneath Autumnal Oaks”, by W.H. Pugmire ~ The Weird Fiction community recently lost one of its most beloved characters—and sacred Keeper of the Eldritch Flame for the Pacific Northwest—the gentleman scholar Wilum Hopfrog Pugmire. A master stylist and a lifelong writer in the Lovecraftian vein, Pugmire is known for his evocative prose, and for creating the Sesqua Valley setting, home of the Shadow Children and the location where many of his stories take place. This short, funereal piece makes for a lovely introduction to Pugmire’s work, as it features a character he often returns to, the grotesque Simon Gregory Williams, a.k.a. “the Beast”, and an intriguing, semi-linear narrative about death, love, grief and incest (?) that would not be out of place among Poe’s mysterious masterworks. I will definitely be seeking out more Pugmire.

“Mr. Ainsley”, by Steve Ransic Tem ~ A fantastic, truly Lovecraftian tale, presented as an account of the first visitor that the titular Mr. Ainsley has had to his home since his wife died, ten years prior. When the visitor, a young, freckle-faced political canvasser, passes out within seconds of stepping into the house’s “unique” atmosphere, Mr. Ainsley takes it upon himself to make the young man comfortable until he comes to. Afterwards, the two carry on an awkward, increasingly disturbing conversation, which culminates in Mr. Ainsley’s insistence that the young man see the garden before he leaves. Tem is a veteran of the genre who’s been writing some of the best short horror fiction of the last four decades, and he really knows what he’s doing. The buildup of suspense, the way disturbing details are nonchalantly dropped into the narrative for maximum effect, the relentless narrative acceleration towards an increasingly unavoidable doom… it’s all masterful stuff. With two stories (and one poem) left to go in this collection, “Mr. Ainsley” is the best of the lot so far.

READING DIARY, SUNDAY, MAY 19, 2019

I woke up really late today, sleeping through most of the day. It’s midnight, and the sound of fireworks is cracking through the weighty darkness of the overcast night sky. Haven’t gotten much work or reading done today. Instead, I’ve watched the final episode of Game of Thrones (meh), the newish Will Ferrell movie The House (meh), and a number of Parks and Recreation episodes. I really enjoy that show. I find it comforting and easy to like. Also, Aubrey Plaza and Rashida Jones both break my heart. And then there’s “Ron Swanson”, who is awesome. Aziz Ansari, Adam Scott, Rob Lowe, “Andy”… it’s just a quality show with one of the better post-Seinfeld sitcom ensembles I can think of. And it’s got a really gentle, positive vibe. Anyway, I’m three seasons in, and I’ll watch through until I’m done eating my leftover burrito, then I’ll read another couple stories from Black Wings, and that’ll be enough of that.

***

BLACK WINGS OF CTHULHU 6 (continued)
Twenty-One New Tales of Lovecraftian Horror, Edited by S.T. Joshi

“The Shard”, by Don Webb ~ This is a story about James and Bart, two American cousins and SF dorks whose families toured the UK when they were in their teens. Bart’s mom was a musicologist researching the “Birchester Sound”—an obscure late ‘60’s phenomenon overshadowed by the lads from Liverpool, being a mix of psychedelica and something called Severn Valley folk music—so part of their visit took place in Ramsey Campbell’s North Country Mythos setting of (you guessed it) Birchester and the Severn Valley.

One of the mementos Bart brings back stateside is a green and pink slab of tourmaline spar about four inches long. In the years following their UK tour, Bart’s IQ drops from 186 to 86, and his family has him institutionalized. There's no explanation for this sudden change, and James remains his only friend.

Bart dies in 2015 leaving behind a diary with the word “Glarky” written in it thousands of times and that watermelon tourmaline spar. Except that’s not what it was. James, being a scientist with access to labs, scrapes off a bit to test its makeup. Turns out it's mildly radioactive, made of radium mixed with boron silicate and a strange plastic that resembles DNA. Also, it was artificially extruded. And when you fall asleep with it in your hands… you dream. Amazing dreams. So amazing that James becomes a dream junkie, costing him his relationship, his job, etc.

The shard also records memories and plays them back. James goes through all the Bart recordings. Then he goes through recordings made by some British guy in a Birchester Sound band (the Titus Groans) who, while feasting on dreams/memories, decides to stop eating actual food, and slowly starves to death. Then the dream/memories go back farther… and the grand mystery of the shard’s true origin (among other things) is revealed.

See, it all has to do with an advanced alien civilization on a planetoid city with an ancient, titanic, “Class X” god-thing (the Unnamable) being held in a crystal prison of sorts, and the unavoidable residue of four-dimensional beings existing in a ten-dimensional universe, and it involves gravitons and consciousness and the disease called “religion”. Also, tentacles. And, oh yeah! The shard is, like, an alien armpit wart.

Eventually, it turns out the Unnamable was an early form of the being that eventually evolves into the spiny hallucinogenic space-godling called Gla’aki, and the alien whose dreams James is experiencing (now full-on, as though remembering his own past) has succumbed to the Cult of the Unnamable and secretly plans to drill through the Crystal Trap Door behind which Future Gla’aki is being held on his way to an execution that will NOT take place.

The story ends with James’ fate mirroring Bart’s. It’s an okay story, a good, quick read. And so, just for shits and giggles, I thought I’d put together a list of potential band names for practitioners of the fictional “Birchester Sound” (we already have The Titus Groans). If you come up with some names of your own, please include them in the comments section:

The Goatswood Trio 

Watermelon Tourmaline 

Voice of the Pines

The Syncops

Planet Blink

Paperback Discipline

Canlog'Y

The Herd

Ramsey's Commonplace Band

“The Mystery of the Cursed Cottage”, by David Hambling ~ A locked room mystery set in Seesin’s Copse, a woodsy part of Surrey, England, in the late 1920’s. Granny Attwater, an old lady rumored to be a hundred years old, is evicted from her small cottage home by a new landowner, Mr. Potter. She puts a curse on him then promptly dies. Wanting to prove the curse foolish, Potter publicly vows to spend the weekend alone in the cottage. He locks himself in… and disappears. Now, a police inspector accompanies Mr. Blake, a specialist in paganism, the occult and other such topics, and Mrs. Bellhaven, a Theosophist with “a gift for sensing vibrations”, to the cottage, in order to try and solve the mystery. A series of disturbing events begins with a gruesome discovery that indicates Mr. Potter’s true fate, and culminates with someone meeting their own horrific end, as well as a cameo appearance by the British version of our old friend Brown Jenkin.

“To Court the Night”, by K.A. Opperman ~ By far the best lyric poem of this collection so far (which contains an unprecedented four of them), this Poe-like ode to necrophilia is lush in its imagery and precise in its traditional rhyme-scheme and its flawless iambic pentameter. Great stuff!

YER OLD PAL JERKY'S READING DIARY, FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2019

I want to write more, so that means reading more. I find that reading not only inspires me in terms of sparking new story ideas, it also helps me learn new techniques for achieving certain effects (something that is particularly important in the genres in which I wish to write: horror, speculative fiction, “the weird”). Unfortunately, thanks to the fact that my brain has been drilled full of holes thanks to our multi-tasking, attention-deficit-disordered way of life, I find that a lot of what I read goes in through my eyes and then rapidly exits my skull like steam schfitzing from my ears or something.

Of course, being a lifelong English Major, in the Garrison Keillor sense, I won’t be limiting my reading to short horror fiction. However, I’ve been reading a LOT of that stuff lately, so it’s probably going to be taking up a lot of room at the start. What I hope to do with this reading diary is to make note of the things I liked/didn’t like/loved/despised about the stories and novels that I read. I will also make note of any intriguing techniques or tricks that I might come across.

Well, that’s probably enough introductory babble for now. Know that I’ll be taking notes on stories in the various anthologies I’ll be reading in a piecemeal manner, reviewing a number of stories at a time. On the other hand, with the novels that I read, I will try to keep my notes on those together, even if I read said novel over an extended period of time during which I read multiple other short stories, comics, novellas, etc.

Let’s get started with the most recent edition of what is reputed to be the finest ongoing collection of Lovecraftian and/or Cthulhu Mythos fiction, editor S.T. Joshi’s Black Wings series.

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BLACK WINGS OF CTHULHU 6
Twenty-One New Tales of Lovecraftian Horror, Edited by S.T. Joshi

“Pothunters” by Anne K. Schwader ~ Interesting story about field anthropologist Cassie Barrett, who specializes in native cultures of the American Southwest, getting a mysterious package from her assistant Frank Yellowtail’s nephew, Joshua, informing her about a dig site being looted of its unprecedented cache of uniquely constructed and decorated pottery found hidden in sealed-off cavates in the high desert. But looting by meth-addicted “pothunters” is the least of what’s going on at the site, and Schwader does a good job of establishing Cassie as someone who’s dealt with otherworldly forces before, peppering the text with references to terrifying past events at “Zia House”, or the need to bring along her absent mentor’s mysterious “box”. It’s almost as if this is a chapter from a larger novel, or Cassie Barrett is a character who features in multiple linked short stories. Either way, she makes for a unique entry in the pantheon of “Lovecraftian heroes”, and this ends up being an effective horror in the investigative/adventure genre, featuring classic Lovecraftian creatures, the identity of which any seasoned Lovecraft fan will be able to identify relatively early on. Not that this lessens the pleasure of this tale. Particularly recommended for young and female readers.

“The Girl in the Attic” by Darrell Schweitzer ~ A dark, disturbing bit of prose describing in lyrical but horrific ways what appear to be bits and pieces from a lifetime’s worth of memory going through the mind of a young woman (or perhaps the ghost of a young woman?) chained in the attic of a lonely, abandoned house in the woodlands of rural Pennsylvania… a woman who is simultaneously an organized cult’s sacrificial offering, and something like the larval form of a horrifying deity yet to be born. As her memories move from the mundane and familial towards the cruel and unavoidably horrific, the reader is subjected to some tough imagery. “The Girl in the Attic” is chilling and effective, but the ultimate effect is beautifully elusive in its treatment of the story’s central mystery.

“The Once and Future Waite” by Jonathan Thomas ~ Set in the 1980’s, in that most famous of Lovecraftian settings—Arkham Asylum—this story starts off as an investigation into a cell that seems to be haunted. Patients are complaining of flying insects trying to drill their way into their heads, and also of visions of a spooky, bearded man floating above them. Doctor Meg Kilduff, already miffed at being passed over for the job of director after her previous boss’ departure, begrudgingly investigates the room’s past, as per the new director’s orders. It’s at this point that Lovecraftian Easter Eggs (the first of which is in the story’s title) start flying at the reader fast and furious. With themes as varied as Reaganomics, postfeminism, sexual assault and the politics of mental health, this story ends up being an intriguing “serial possession” ghost story, with a final twist that will surprise, a final image that will disgust, and a final line that should put a smile on the reader’s face.

“Oude Goden” by Lynne Jamneck ~ An interesting short piece about a young, self-described “witch” in the Pacific Northwest, set in the 1920’s or so. The title is Dutch for “Ancient Gods”, with the ancient god in this case being Ghanatothoa (first offspring of Cthulhu according to some readings, Lin Carter’s in particular). Seems as though the protagonist’s lover, Jupiter, as well as other “outsiders” (homosexuals for the most part) from a small Seattle suburb are all disappearing. So, she sets out to solve the mystery. For such a short story, “Oude Goden” has an interesting cast of characters, including a sub-continental merchant with a deep understanding of the occult and a sideline in bootleg First Nations alcohol and super-potent hallucinogenic entheogens, a floppy-eared nocturnal rabbit who happens to harbor the soul of a hundred-years-dead Dutchman, the KKK, a phantom college of witches, and an arrogant, doomed young travelling warlock whose ultimate purpose in this story remains mysterious. Jamneck has also gifted us with a new book to add to the Mythos library: “Dhol Chants”, which contains incantations so potent that the reader needs to take arcane steps in order to prevent the triggering of uncontrollable effects simply by opening the book to certain pages! Decent short story.

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LITTLE BIRD #2 of 5

Story by Darcy van Poelgeest, Art by Ian Bertram

The first issue of this instant classic comic book was so utterly superlative, it inspired me to write my first fan letter to a comic book creative team since the mid-1980’s. I guess I’ve got pretty good taste in comics, because since its debut, Little Bird has experienced unprecedented word of mouth success, leading to a swift sell-out and forcing Image Comics to print a second, and then a THIRD run… all before the second issue was even released. A dark future fantasy sf dystopia with elements of Native American lore, over the top superheroics, Jodorowsky-style mytho-messianic mysticism and utterly sui generis character designs, Little Bird is so far telling a somewhat familiar tale, but oh, the way it’s being told! I simply can’t wait to see where this creative team takes this magnificent comic.

HORROR REVIEWS ~ "GERALD'S GAME" & "THE VOID"

GERALD'S GAME (Netflix) - I went through an incredibly passionate Stephen King phase during adolescence, during which time I read every single thing he ever wrote. Good Lord, could that man throw a scare into me. There are images and moments in Salem's Lot, The Shining, and Pet Sematary that still give me goosebumps, and I'll argue for The Dead Zone's status as a Great American Novel to this day.

Sometime during my first year of university, however, I read The Dark Half, then Four Past Midnight, and both left me cold, at which point I gave up on King... as a writer of fiction, at least. This means I never got around to reading Gerald's Game, which if I recall correctly came out in a year when something like six or seven other Stephen King novels were published, and the man's legendary literary fecundity went from being a wonder to being a bit of a running joke.

Watching shit-hot indie horror specialist Mike Flanagan's stylish, assured version of Gerald's Game, I was reminded of what I loved so much about reading King's novels as a teen: His knack for telling stories that make you greedy to read more, his uncanny ability to develop extraordinary horror out of ordinary, everyday life circumstances, and his ability to create solid, believable characters via grace notes that say so much with so little... which, I realize, is ironic when discussing a writer who is often justly accused of logorrhea.

These little bullet reviews of mine are not meant to serve as film analysis or serious criticism. If and when I do start publishing more serious criticism on this particular blog... trust me, you'll recognize it. Mostly though, considering how many people read this blog (a couple dozen people a day at most), these reviews mostly serve as a way to remind myself of which movies I've seen, and whether or not I liked them. And, to my few readers, to maybe give an indication as to why I did or didn't like a movie, so that they can guess as to whether or not they might like it.

So, bottom line, I liked Gerald's Game. I liked it a lot. In fact, it instantly enters the ranks of my favorite Stephen King adaptations ever, putting it up there with Cronenberg's The Dead Zone, Reiner's Misery, Darabont's The Mist, and DePalma's Carrie. The acting is great. Carla Gugino and Bruce Greenwood are both, as usual, amazing. It spooked me. It impressed me with its visuals. It made me squirm in empathetic agony. It made me deeply uncomfortable. Even with its somewhat clumsy and tacked on coda, and despite its occasionally cavalier approach to incredibly touchy subject matter, this is a B movie that earns an A+ from me.

THE VOID ~ This... this is a tough one. As a lifelong horror fan, I'm generally predisposed to liking (and rooting for) films like The Void. It's a low budget affair, everyone involved is clearly game, the story contains some original ideas and a shit-ton of homages to (rip-offs of?) past movie favorites both well known and obscure, and it features some truly arresting visuals and occasionally impressive practical (i.e. non-CGI) special effects.

It's also a freaking mess, with an impossible to follow plot, way too many convenient coincidences, occasionally painful performances and dialogue, no likable characters worth rooting for, the occasional SFX fail that takes you right out of the action, and a first act jam-packed with some of my most hated cliche's and unforgivable genre movie sins.

Weird thing is, the deeper I got into this movie and the less sense it was making in terms of traditional plot and storytelling... the more I found myself willing to forgive its sins. Because, for some bizarre reason, once the filmmakers decide to give up on the "siege movie" motif of the first two acts -- it's pretty obvious they never really had their hearts in it -- and just let their freak flags fly with the surrealistic Lovecraftian nightmare of the extended third act... I gave up trying to make sense of the plot, or keep track of the characters and their motivations, and just let the movie wash over me in all its trippy, disgusting glory.

And you know something? If you'd asked me halfway through the movie how I felt about it, I would have expressed my extreme displeasure at having been taken in by the slick "80's retro" vibe of the music and the advertising and the Stranger Things font used in all the promo material, causing me to waste my time with such a greasy slice of cinematic sleaze. But when the end credits started to roll, I couldn't say that I was disappointed by it.

None of it makes a lick of sense, and I can't in good conscience recommend this to any cohort other than rabid horror movie fanatics, H.P. Lovecraft aficionados, fans of practical special effects, and lovers of Italian gore-meister Lucio Fulci's somber late period films (The Beyond, for instance, which might be one of The Void's least obvious but most direct inspirations). However, if you don't mind when there's way more rough than diamond in your diamonds-in-the-rough, and you're okay with a movie where the whole is lesser than the sum of its best parts... then maybe give The Void a try.

You know what? Come to think of it, The Void might make for the perfect Halloween party background movie. Even if you pay attention, you won't really understand it any more than the people who don't, the first half is mostly silly and easy to ignore, and the all the best parts don't require that you understand what's going on in order to be fully enjoyed!

So, bottom line, The Void is a bad movie. But I really liked almost as many things as I really hated about it. Your mileage may vary, but I'd really love to know what other people think about this one. If you want, include your own bullet reviews in the comments section, below.