Thursday 19 November 2015

The Few, the Far and the In Between

In a couple of ways, I miss the very first few days of this blog. It was a wild, frontier-time when I was writing for writing's sake; when I was a mere amateur, not ever published, so my only writing pressures were my own; when I suffered from just one mental illness; when I somehow managed to write once every three days & - although I do not regret having work to look forward to - when I had less "projects" going on, so that I could more readily focus on this blog and my readership.

I honestly don't know how I managed three blog posts a day. I think I cared a little less, or maybe nowadays I care a little too much. One of the reasons I'm writing this is because, despite not feeling confident enough to write an entire blog post about some of the ideas I have, I do want to keep writing this. I love having a blog, my little foot in the door between me and the great world at large. I have an awful lot of pride in this blog, such that even though I don't like change, several times I found myself changing this blog to better suit the style that I wished it to evoke. And I am in fact honoured that people come here to read it, and occasionally leave comments.

This is entirely my own, and I do hope - one day - to become a published author, and on that day I still hope to have this blog, and update it. Even if someone insists that I have a "proper website", I still want to have this one handy. It is entirely mine, entirely self-motivated and entirely for fun. I like the atmosphere it has, and wouldn't trade that for anything.

So, please, do not take it the wrong way when I say that I am too busy to update. But, the fact of the matter is that I consider this blog part of my "writing work", and lately I have been working on some other writing projects.
There is one collaborative writing project that I was accepted into almost a month ago, called ODIN. I've been working on a serialized story for the project in the time I would usually spend working on personal writing projects and/or blogging. It's a lot of fun, lots of folks are taking part and I'm enjoying the challenge, but it means this blog has fallen to the wayside. I'm working to write more blog posts, but you definitely can't expect them as frequently as I once wrote them.

Although, on that note, ODIN is looking for more writers. There's a bit of a screening process, but if you are a writer and are keen to take on a significant writing challenge (although enjoyable and rather fast and loose, this will be relatively labour intensive), and if you like science fiction and adventure let me know that you're interested, and provide me with a link to an example of some of your writing. If I'm impressed, I will bring you to the attention of the Head Writer.

There are some other ideas I've been toying with lately as well. As you can tell, I did my Halloween Countdown recently (it was actually the last thing I did on this blog, oh my how time flies), but that also means it was my birthday.
The present I got for my birthday (alongside some lovely chocolates) was, in fact, a mobile phone. For the last 8 years, I have had one phone, it was a great phone. In fact it still is a great phone, a Nokia X1-01 and I would still be using it today, except . . . Vodafone happened. My provider decided that, because I hadn't made a call in 6 months (I had no disposable income and was looking for work, so I was receiving calls but could not afford to make them from my mobile phone), they put my number in something called "quarantine", as the phone number would eventually transfer from my SIM to be recycled into the network.
Which is a fancy way of saying: "Well, you're not giving us money, so fuck you we're taking your phone number away."
And since I needed a new SIM card, and they don't sell 2G cards anymore, I was forced to upgrade my phone.

So, I got a new phone. This one another Nokia, since I love that brand, and since I was upgrading I figured I'd try for a smartphone so I got a Nokia Lumia 532. In my eternal quest to stay just behind the cutting edge of technology, I bought a phone that they don't make anymore, the "Lumia" series goes all the way up to the 900s now which meant my phone was very cheap despite coming with a pre-packed SIM card. Also, because Vodafone was such a dick, I switched to Telstra.
Anyway, my point is, I have a phone, a Microsoft Phone (because I do not like iPhones) which means it came prepackaged with Microsoft Word.

And all of that was a long way of me saying that I've been looking into cell phone novels lately. Or, since I am not an American , I would prefer to call them phone novels. They are meant to be written on a phone, so I thought it would be interesting to see if I could actually accomplish that.
Don't get all excited, I haven't planned anything, I just think it's a cool idea, with a fascinating medium and style, so I might see if I can actually do something like that. In short, if you're interested, it's a style of writing whereby each chapter is the size of a text message. It forces the writer to resort to greater poetry and use of whitespace to express the story, and a lot of the plot is concealed (due to writing limitations) which adds to the theme and style of the genre.

And thirdly, there are several blog post ideas that I am interested in writing, but I keep forgetting or getting side-tracked. So, I figured, rather than keep getting all flustered, I'll do what I often do to organize my brain . . . lists. I can't give you a deadline, since with Christmas coming up, family responsibilities, job-hunting & ODIN work to do, I will be quite busy; but, I can give you a checklist. So, here are seven blog posts that I am going to attempt to write for this blog in the near future:

  1. Healing Diary: A Tribute to Dr Mona
    • (Where I talk about my psychologist, because she was nice)
  2. WotD: "Speech"
    • (Where I talk about Freedom of Speech)
  3. Blogfiction: "Creature Fluff"
    • (I promised my girlfriend I would write some light, cute fiction for her)
  4. WotD: "Selfie"
    • (I want to talk about selfie culture, photography and self-portraiture)
  5. WotD: "Doxxing"
    • (Apparently, this happens a lot. I want to look at the word and the phenomenon)
  6. Duke Forever - Chapter 12: Party Crashers
    • (I want to continue this story, I'm getting to a really good bit)
  7. WotD: "Special"
    • (I want to discuss what does and does not make us special)
So, you see, I haven't been out of ideas . . . just busy. I will, in time, write about all of these things. Of course, I may occasionally write a few more posts like this in between. And I may do a special Christmas and/or New Years post around these as well. It's going to be pretty fast and loose. But, I will get around to them all, in time. All I ask is that you be patient.

I'm the Absurd Word Nerd, and until next time, feel free to leave comments, keep in touch, I'll be around . . . I just have a few stories to write first.

Friday 30 October 2015

Me Only

Ed crouches by the ravine, glaring at his reflection. The reflection in the water is warped and burbled by the fast running water.
Look at what you’ve done, says the tangle of weeds beside the water, rustling with each syllable.
Momma won’t be pleased says the Dark Ed in the water Not with sad, Lonely Eddie
“Leave momma out of this,” says Ed, “What she don’t know won’t harm her.”
But she’s so ashamed, Eddie the Dark Ed teases, making the weeds snicker. The trees sway back and forth mockingly,
“No. I don’t want it, Ed is a good boy.”
Eddie’s no good, Eddie’s all alone. The Lonely One . . . says the Dark Ed. You’re Lonely, and Just One, and you deserve no better. You’ll be alone forever.
“I didn’t mean to . . .” sobs Ed,
But you did. That kind girl. Now she’s dead rustles the weeds.
“I’m sorry. I said I was sorry! Didn’t I?!”
Perhaps . . .we should leave . . . the trees groan in unison
Leave the Lonely One alone . . . whispers the ravine, rushing vibrantly,
Like he deserves says the Dark Ed.
“No, NO! Please don’t leave me!”
Ed can’t be trusted! sneers the weeds
“Please, I’ll do anything . . .”
Will he now? says the Dark Ed . . . we will see.
THIS . . . WAY . . . creaks the little bridge. Ed is confused, but to keep the world on his side, he nods and heads to the bridge.
Follow the streetlights hum the fireflies, as they bother him down the path. Ed looks to the street beyond.
“We’re going to the girl’s house. The one from the druggist’s.”
The sky above doesn’t respond. As he steps onto the street, a mailbox suddenly screams WAIT!
Ed jumps back off the road. He walks over to the mailbox.
“Why?”
It’s not time yet . . . says the mailbox.
“I don’t like this,” says Ed, “I don’t like it at all.”
You will do as your told . . . says the mailbox, it’s lip clanging loudly as it speaks, What would you be without us? NOTHING. That’s what. Lonely little Ed and his lonely, old momma . . .
Ed is upset about them talking about his momma like that, but he bites his tongue.
Now, come here! sings the empty glass on the porch. Ed does as he’s told. He steps up to the door.
Come inside . . . says the door, with a suave demeanour.
“I don’t want to,” says Ed.
There is a scream in the distance, making Ed flinch,
I SAID COME INSIDE roars the door as it swings wide open.
Ed slowly creeps inside and the door slams shut. The house is silent.
“I don’t like it here.” Says Ed.
Here is where you wait says the door with a chuckle.
“I don’t like it here . . .” Ed whimpers to himself. As he waits, it starts to get darker, and the clock ticks mockingly
“Please, can I leave?”
NO! Roars the comfy sofa,
“But I hate it, I hate listening to you!” yells Ed.
You need us . . . flickers the light,
What would Lonely Eddie do without us? teases the Dark Ed in the hall mirror, You’re nothing without us.
And you’d be all alone . . . taunts the door.
“You know what? I don’t need you.”
All lies, you couldn’t last, Lonely Ed! The world screams.
Ed puts his hands to his head
“No! NO! I can do this alone. Me, alone, on my own. Me, Only Me! So all of you . . . SILENCE!!!
As Ed looks around the room had fallen deathly silent. Then he hears a scrambling at the door. He says to himself,
“I can do this on my own . . .”

Monster Bash, Tier 3: Final Match

  “G’day everyone, how are you all goin’? Good? I hope so . . . We have had some god-damned amazing fights in this arena, now. Battles have been waged; blood has been spilled and champions have risen from the ashes! . . . and now we come to the pointy end of this competition.” I say, adjusting my headphones as I walk towards a whiteboard with a contest bracket drawn on it, which looked like this:


 Tier 1   Tier 2  *Tier 3*  WINNER

WEREWOLF┐                        |
        ├WEREWOLF┐               |
GHOST───┘        │               |
                 ├─DEMON──┐      |
ZOMBIE──┐        │        │      |
        ├─DEMON──┘        │      |
DEMON───┘                 │      |
                          ├─ ??? |
VAMPIRE─┐                 │      |
        ├─HUMAN──┐        │      |
HUMAN───┘        │        │      |
                 ├─WITCH──┘      |
TROLL───┐        │               |
        ├─WITCH──┘               |
WITCH───┘                        |


  “Now this . . . uh this . . .” I stammer and start laughing. “The hell is this? What am I meant to do with this? What?” I stop as someone is talking into my ear. “Yes, I know it’s live, doesn’t change the fact that I don’t know what to do with this . . . okay, look, ladies and gentlemen if you’ve missed the previous fights, they’re in the blog archives, you should check them out.”
I pause for a moment as my headphones keep talking at me.
  “Pfft, no fuck off, I am not recapping the whole lot of matches, that would defeat the . . . you know what?” I take my headphones off and throw them over the fence. “We'll do it live, fuck it. Ladies and gentlemen, this evening, I am proud to announce that I am once again joined by the stunning Miss Jayalaw. Are you excited to be here?”
“Maybe not excited, but I am curious to see who will win. Both the contenders have fought through quite a bit and given their hundred and ten percent, but it’s going to be hard to go back to trick or treating and candy after this.”
  “Especially for our losers,” I say, sitting down on an Esky behind the desk. “But we have one hell of a fight this evening. So, I have to ask, which of our two monsters are you backing this evening? Will you make a call on the final fight?”
“Technically witches aren’t monsters, but I see what you mean. I do hope Melissa wins because she has been through a lot at this point.”
  “But not Carver? She did rip off her fucking hand, come on . . .”
“Ah good point,” Jayalaw admitted. “At this point I’m going to sit back and watch . . . are you drunk?”
  “Psh . . . barely. But I am looking forward to celebrating later," I say, tapping my 'seat'. "And y’know what? You're right. It’s all come down to this, I don't want to spoil the surprise by trying to analyse this to pieces. Let's just wait and see what happens. Oh, and here come our contestants now!”
On the left side near trees, On the other side of the field, three stagehands entered with summoning materials. They set up the pentagram as one of them chanted. As the ritual was complete, the candles each became a fireball that merged in the centre of the symbol to become Carver, the red-skinned, yellow-eyed woman with horns and a tail. Her right hand was replaced with a hook, and she wore a burnt bikini.
  “In this corner, Rkk’lugh O’ash’sh kss-Ra, a demon also known as ‘Carver’. In her first round, she lost her hand, only to smash her opponent’s brain, and in her second round she tore her opponent up and shoved her hook through his face! She’s a devilish beast, give it up for The Demon!”
On the right side near the church, a short woman was lead through the gate by two stage hands, one holding each arm. She was wearing a black, draping dress and a wide-brimmed hat, and had a pair of handcuffs on her wrists. One of the stagehands unlocked the cuffs and they both left to leave her standing, solemnly, with her head bowed.
  "And in this corner, Melissa Maitland. In her first match, she faced off against a powerful troll, and despite being outclassed in size, she used her ingenuity and ripped off his head. And in her second match, although there was a close call near the end, but she managed to snap his neck. She’s one Magical Mistress, give it up for The Witch!"
I jump up and scream. “Without further ado, Tonight is our final match! it’s Sorceress versus Succubus, who will win? Let’s get ready to RUMBLE! Three . . . two . . . one, FIGHT!”

Carver began by walking down the path towards her prey. with a flick of her left hand, her talons sparked and ignited, and flames crawled up her fingers to rest in her palm.
Meanwhile, Melissa just began dancing. She started by humming and slowly stamping her feet. She lowered her hands and stamped faster, singing wordlessly as she spun in a circle, and the demon watched this, smirking. As Melissa spun, the sky grew dark and the stars disappeared behind clouds. She stamped faster and faster, clapped her hands, then jumped forward held up her hands and whistled long and low. Instantly, there was a rumble of thunder, and rain began falling down, and the demon’s smile dropped.
The flames in her hand fizzled and spat as rain fell. Before it could douse it entirely, the demon growled, and the flame burst much larger and brighter. The rain fell and sizzled, but it was hot enough to stay lit. She thrusts her hand forward and sends a bolt of fire at the witch. Melissa throws her hands in front of her face, as she does, raindrops around her collect into a wobbling blanket of water. The fire extinguished as it hit the water. Then Melissa dropped her hands and the water splashed to the ground.
  “You pathetic maggot!” screamed the demon as she ran forward. She threw a fireball, and Melissa countered it with another swipe of water, which turned into steam. But Carver closed the distance between them and swung her leg. She kicked Melissa in the face, making her double back. Melissa grabs more water and smacks it into the demon, but Carver grabs her by the front of the shirt, lifts her from the ground and raises her hook to swipe.
Melissa slaps her in the face and throws out both arms. A sudden and quick gust of wind grabs the witch and she flies up into the air.
  “Don’t flee from me, human!” yells the Demon, and she throws up both hands, sending a spurt of flame high up into the air. The fire encompasses the witch’s body and she screams. As she swipes at her burning clothes, she drops out of the sky, smoking.
She hits the ground heavily, and collapses onto her back. She cries out in pain. The rain extinguishes the last of the fire, but she grabs her leg. It wasn’t broken, but she winced as she kneeled to stand up again.
  “You are weak and pathetic,” said the demon. “I tore off my own hand, and I am still standing. you twist your ankle, and you look ready to cry.”
Through gritted teeth, Melissa pointed towards the demon with her hand, and spoke in a strange tongue. In a flash, lightning cracked loudly. striking just behind her. Carver jumped and hissed. Melissa continued to speak, and swirled her hand as though casting a whip. Again, lightning struck, Carver dove aside, and the lightning struck where she had just been standing.
  “You can keep casting your magic at me all you like,” said Carver. “But you know, the moment I get my hands on you, I’ll rip your pretty tongue out.”
Melissa held her hand forward and clenched the air in front of her, then pulled down. As she did, Carver stumbled, but soon regained her footing. Melissa tried to magically grapple her again, by throwing her hand to the side. She managed to pull Carver over, but she quickly got back on her feet.
  “I think you’re growing weak, mage,” said the demon. She flicked her talons and they burst into a flame, which she quickly flared brighter as the raindrops sizzled around it, so that it wouldn’t be extinguished. “and I am growing impatient . . .” She reared her arm back so she could shoot the fire, when Melissa swung both arms around her and with a rushing sound, the ground in front of her was scooped up and she threw the dirt and mud at the demon.
The mud splattered her from head to toe, and she stood there for a moment, looking bewildered. Her hand had been extinguished, and she stood there, spitting dirt out of her mouth as Melissa gestured around her, gathering water with her hands, and she collected it all into the ditch she’d carved into the ground in front of her, until there was an oddly-shaped puddle.
The rain washed the dirt off of the demon’s face, and she looked at the witch, who was breathing heavily, exhausted. The demon looked at the puddle, and began to laugh.
  “Give up, human,” said the demon, smiling cruelly. “You might as well come here and let me kill you. Do you honestly think this little moat is going to stop me?”
The demon stepped into the shallow puddle and marched towards her pray. Melissa took a breath and spoke, which surprised the demon.
  “It’s not a moat, it’s a ‘fossa’.” said Melissa. “Also known as a murder-hole . . . or drowning-pit.”
Melissa once more held up her hand to grapple the demon, then she plunged her hand down, and the demon was thrown face-first into the puddle.
Melissa crouched there, catching her breath as the demon struggled. The water around her splashed as she thrashed with her hands and tail. She even tried to throw fire, causing the water to burble and let off bursts of steam. Melissa stayed there, holding her down with her magic. She didn’t even flinch as lightning struck in the distance.
Carver continued to fight and thrash for her life, digging at the mud with her hook, kicking her feet, but after the first minute, bubbles floated around her head, then her movements slowed considerably. The thrashes turned into light slaps at the surface, then she fell limp. Even after she stopped moving, Melissa kept holding her down.

A bell rang and I jumped up.
  “We have a winner!” I scream, running over, my suit soaking in the falling rain. “And not just any winner, the winner. The ultimate champion! This is incredible. Melissa Maitland, how does it feel?”
  “Is she dead?” asked Melissa.
  “I think so,” I say, kneeling down. “Either way, we’d call that a T.K.O . . . woo! That was pretty intense. But you’ve won! You’re Monster Supreme 2015. You are the ultimate monster. How does it feel?”
  “I think I need to lie down,” says Melissa. “I twisted my ankle.”
  “Oh yes, of course, of course. we’ll get the medic over here soon. But, ladies and gentlemen, give it up for the Witch!”
Everyone claps as we hear the ambulance driving up, in the distance.
  “Yes, you saw it here first. We put eight monsters in the ring, and in the end, only one was left. And that answers our question: Who is the ultimate monster? I’m proud to say, without a doubt, that the Monster Supreme for 2015 is the witch.”
  “I want to give a shout-out to the folks who own Horton-Meier Cemetery, for lending us their grounds for this arena - don’t worry Glen, we’ll clean this up soon. I want to thank the Tsukiyama family for their generosity. I want to give a great, big thank you to all of our contenders who participated. And finally, I want to thank you all for joining us, it’s been a pleasure. Goodnight, everybody!”
With a sigh, I throw the microphone into the puddle, and walk off the page.

Thursday 29 October 2015

Cheap Halloween Decorating Ideas!

I was looking up some ideas for posts that I could do for Halloween, for my countdown, and there were quite a few suggestions about economic ways of celebrating the scary season. Cheap Halloween Costumes, Cheap Recipes, Cheap Celebrations , etcetera.
It seems like everybody likes to celebrate, but these people don't want to lay down their hard-earned cash just to spook their family and friends.

So, I've got a couple of ideas for Halloween Decorations which you can achieve on a budget, but will still manage to scare the bejeesus out of your friends, neighbours and any trick-or-treaters that come around!
I have three little decoration ideas that you can pull off yourself. But before I start, a couple of little  but first, I need to get you in on some "Cent-Saving Suggestions":
  • D.I.Y. or Die: Never buy anything store-made. Anyone can write "Happy Halloween" on a banner; anyone can make spooky paper cutouts to stick on their windows & anyone can bake a cake with a spider drawn in the icing. Saving time is wasting money, but if you want to go to the effort to decorate, then don't skimp on time by spending money, or it will become a budgetary burden.
  • Recycle: Have you ever been walking through your house at night, and caught sight of a shadow flicking past that made you jump? Have you ever had to get something out of the cupboard and felt uneasy about the weird-looking stains on the shelf? Your house already has the capacity to be terrifying. Look around for what materials and scary things you already possess, and use them to your advantage.
  • Creativity is Free: If you have a talent for craft or drawing or art in any way, or if you have a flair for make-up or putting on a creepy voice, then employ that creativity. After all, if you - for example - know how to draw a realistic pair of eyes, then all you need to do is draw eyes on several pieces of A4 paper and stick them in your windows. Already, you've made your house a little creepier, and it only cost you a pen and a piece of paper. So, use your own talents, and you can reduce your budget tenfold.
Alright, those are just a few tips. Now, here are a few ways that you can decorate your house this Halloween, that is guaranteed to bring on the screams! I use this to decorate my home, and I always enjoy the looks of fear on everyone's faces.

The Door of Doom!!!
Why go the the trouble of outfitting your whole house with fake cobwebs and carved pumpkins if all anyone will see is the front door? Don't waste time on the small stuff, go straight for the throat and outfit your door to look like the entrance to something a great deal more terrifying than a suburban home.

You Will Need:
  • 1 large axe
  • Paint (preferably quick-drying), whichever colour(s) you have
  • Paint Brushes
  • Drop Cloth (I use an old bedsheet)
  • Double-sided sticky tape
Optional:
  • Measuring Tape
  • 1 box cutter, or scissors
  • Lighter or Matches
  • Stapler
  • Pens and Pencils
Method:
  1. You may want to start by planning your design. Maybe draw yourself an outline, but I find that a more organic look is best. Use your axe on your front door, so as to cut some nice gouges in the wood. Remember though, you're not chopping it down! Just a cut here and there to add some unsettling disorder to your front entry. Perhaps take a few swings at the banister or mailbox to mix things up.
    • Caution: Be careful with your axe, you don't want to hurt yourself.
  2. After you've created some nice dynamic damage to the front, you will want to get some paint on your paintbrush, and use it to write a message on your door. You could perhaps draw something, like a smiley face, or a cross. Personally, I like to go for the short but effective: YOU WILL ALL DIE.
    • Note: If you're concerned about getting paint on the ground, lay down your drop cloth before preparing your paint.
  3. This is where you can get creative. That alone will do, but you might want to burn some of the wood and paint with some matches to get an unsettling look and smell. or, for something simple but effective, you could use an old knife or hatchet, gouge it into the wood and leave it there, sticking out. That's one of my favourites!
This is a great way to meet, great and trick-or-treat your guests. If you want to make it even spookier, you may want to put on some eerie music, or sounds in the background. My trick is, I put on a horror movie and turn the sound up really loud . . .

Bag of Tricks
One of my favourite money-saving tricks, is to find something cheap that you can use all over the place, to cover the whole house in creepy. Some people buy bags of "cobwebs" for this very reason. But you can recycle all kinds of things around your home to make several things at once.

You Will Need:
  • Several large, black garbage bags.
  • Twine or sticky tape
  • Gloves (I use gardening gloves
Method:
  1. First, put on your gloves, then find some spare material around your house, anything you can find to fill them up. Laundry, pillows and blankets work well, but also, don't be squeamish about using actual rubbish and compost to fill your bags. I tend to have a lot of old meat and empty clothes in my basement that I can fill them with.
    • Note: Something that often terrifies people, but which is sorely underutilized, is smell. After all, a werewolf wouldn't be as scary if he smelled like fairy floss. We're scared by sour, rotten, burnt and unusual smells. So, why not use that to your advantage.
  2. Next, for that extra touch, feel free to put some aromatics into the bag. I find that milk works best, especially if you do this ahead of time, to allow the bags time to go sour. But, you may just go for eggs or cheese if you don't have any meat around, but this step is optional.
  3. Now, tie up your bags with your twine. This is where you might want to get creative, with some clever arrangements of bags and tying, you can even make what looks like a make-shift body bag,
  4. Lastly, move your bags into place, around the front of your house, near the garden, behind the doors and wherever you think would be the most unsettling.
For something a little extra, you might want to try putting a possum or a neighbour's cat inside, to give people an extra scare!

Dope on a Rope
People always find death very unsettling, so why not rub it in their faces with this fun and creepy hanging house decoration? It's guaranteed to put anyone at unease if they ring your doorbell, but it's really cheap to make and incredibly simple, anyone can do it!

You Will Need:
  • A set of clothes you're not using
  • A long rope or chain (at least 5 metres)
Optional
  • A counterweight (I sometimes use a pillowcase full of bricks)
  • Knife
Method:
  1. First, you'll need to get yourself something to fill your clothes. I find the cheapest method is to get some clothes which are already filled. To save time and effort, I sometimes wait until Halloween itself, and get the help from anyone that comes by.
    • Note: You may need a knife for this part. Just remember, the larger the victim, the heavier the corpse; pick someone easy to carry.
  2. Once you've got what you need, you just need to tie the rope around their neck. You may want to go the extra mile and tie a noose, but any old knot will do, just make sure they won't slip.
  3. Finally, tie the other end to the edge of your roof or in a nearby tree. If there's nothing to secure the other end of the rope to from your roof, you may need a counter-weight, just tie the rope to it and place it just over the apex of the roof.
    • Note: Be careful as you lower it into place, you don't want to break something.
This one is so quick and easy, you may want to make more than one. It's a clever trick to just do this a few times throughout the night. As long as you have enough supplies, you can make dozens of these and turn your home into a real horrorshow!

- - -

Anyway, those are my decorating tips. So, as you see, you don't need to break the bank to make your house spooky. I find that I we everything we need to scare your friends, neighbours and guests within the walls of your very own home. With just a little ingenuity, you too could turn your Halloween into one your neighbours will never forget!

Wednesday 28 October 2015

Monster Bash, Tier 2: Semi-Final #2

“Welcome back, once again, were we are at the last match before the final showdown,” I say, as I walk down the steps of the church, heading for the commentator’s desk. “We’ve seen a lot of fights here at the Horton-Meier Cemetery and Church, and it’s been brought to my attention that this is a concern for a lot of parents. So, I feel it is my duty to remind everyone watching that this is, first of all, not suitable for children. But more importantly, these are monsters. In the real world, fighting is wrong.”
I walk up to the commentators desk, where a gorgeous, young woman is waiting.
  “As is tradition now, here at Monster Bash, I am joined by Jayalaw to comment on the night’s proceedings. Jayalaw, last night, you expressed some concern at seeing a human fighting against a witch. Can I ask what prompted that?”
“Well, it’s that under ordinary circumstances something like this would appear in The Hunger Games, which was against violence performed for the sake of fun. I feel a bit queasy at the thought of two humans fighting to the death, since witches technically are human and the stigma against them is high.”
  “Yes, some stories make witches into inhuman creatures, but as is the case in history, and in tonight’s show, she’s just a regular person. Although most of those Salem witches were just spinsters or crazy cat ladies; and our witch is quite talented.”
  “On that note, if you have a black cat, keep them safe on Halloween because people are crazy and might kill them! This is a public service announcement for cat lovers out there.”
  “Indeed. I’ve seen some crazies that think they’re Satanic. But what do you think of tonight’s match?”
  “Reminds me of the American political debates going on, where a man tries to cut down an extraordinary woman. I may need a drink to watch this. Is there an open bar for the commentators?”
  “No, but I’ve got an Esky in the back of my car. Perhaps we’ll celebrate our finalists after tonight’s match-up . . . Oh, and speak of the devil, Here come our contestants now!”
Near the copse of trees, a concerned-looking black man with long daggy hair, wearing an open shirt with a singlet and a pair of jeans walks towards the field, with two stagehands holding each arm. They walk him inside the graveyard, stand him a few metres away from the fence, then they left and shut the gate behind them.
  “In this corner, Jerome Ratray. This mighty stud, shrugged off that life-sucking slug, but will this budding thug stand tall, or shed more blood? give it up for our Human!”
On the right side near the church, a short woman wearing a large hat was lead through the gate with a stagehands on each arm. She was wearing a black, draping dress and a wide-brimmed hat, and wasn't very muscular. She nodded grimly as the stagehands walked away, closing the gate behind them.
  "And in this corner, Melissa Maitland. This doll stole the gold from a fearsome troll, so, can she maintain control, or will her head roll? Give it up for the Witch!"
I jump up and scream. “Without further ado, it’s Man versus Mage, who will win? Let’s get ready to RUMBLE! Three . . . two . . . one, FIGHT!”

Immediately, Jerome ran off to the side and into the small thicket of trees.
  “Come get me!” he screamed, running into the dark of the trees.
Melissa sighed and arched her hands above her head, like a ballet dancer. She spoke quietly, her lips moving almost soundlessly as she closed her eyes, when a wind picked up around her and, her black dress and hat whipping around her wildly, she was lifted from the ground. She flew up over the trees then, in the air, began to turn. She spun one revolution, then another and another, faster and faster, As she did, the trees began to sway. Loose leaves  and twigs began twisting around in the swirling wind, then dust and dirt, then branches. The whirlwind was building and building into a small tornado.
Within the trees, Jerome was bracing himself against a tree as dirt and branches whipped around him. But when he gained a firm enough footing, he burst from the edge of the trees and ran towards the church. As she was still spinning, it took Melissa a while to notice that Jerome had fled, and when she finally did, he had run inside the church.
Melissa stopped spinning and the gust dissipated, shaking her head a little, she drifted down to the ground and landed deftly on the grass below. she knelt down and circled her arms around her in what looked like a yoga exercise. Then she thrust both hands towards the church. The whole house shuddered with a sudden concussive shockwave, and all of the windows shattered. Melissa then began walking towards the church, and as she did, she gestured her hands in the air, and simultaneously the shattered glass all lifted up off of the ground.
She chanted under her breath, and summoned the shards quickly towards her, they collected in a large, floating sphere above her open, left palm. With her right hand, she began to make a flicking gesture, and with each gesticulation, one shard of glass shot at the church, whistling through the air and either penetrating the wood like a knife, or shattering explosively on impact.
After a few moments, Jerome ran out of the church, but he stopped just outside the doorway. He grabbed the wooden door with both hands and pulled, ripping it off its hinges. Then, he ran down the steps and towards Melissa, holding up the door as a shield.
She was confused at first, but as he gained ground on her, she thrust both hands forward and sent every shard at him, pointiest edge first.
A few stray shards hit his hands, or the edges of his legs, making Jerome swear loudly, but he kept running towards her.  Melissa curled her fingers, and grabbed the door with her magic. She raised her hands, ripping the door up out of Jerome’s grasp, but then he just sprinted forward. Before she could react, he punched her in the face.
Melissa screamed as knuckles and glass crunched into her cheekbone. She was knocked onto her side, landing awkwardly on her forearm. She attempted to regain her bearings and stop her ears from ringing, but two powerful hands grasped her throat. And Jerome groaned loudly, his teeth clenched, muscles flexing and eyes wide with determination.
Melissa couldn’t breathe, she twisted but couldn’t move under his weight.
  “All your little tricks,” Jerome groaned through clenched teeth. “All your power . . . but when I get my hands on you, you’re just a little girl . . .”
Melissa’s eyes were turning red as she tried to breathe. She reached out a hand and grabbed one of his arms, then struggled to speak. She spat and frothed at the mouth as she spoke in an unknown language.
There was a sudden flash of light and lightning pierced the sky. It struck Jerome on the head, making him scream. He leapt off, his head steaming as sweat evaporated from his forehead. Melissa turned over, coughing and spluttering. She couldn’t stand, so she knelt back, wheezing. Jerome looked shaken, but still standing, and he looked furious. He yelled out and began to run towards her, but Melissa swept her arm.
The door suddenly swung up from the ground and collided with Jerome, glass-first, crashing into him like a speeding truck. He rolled and struck a headstone with his shoulder as he hit the dirt.
Before he could get up, Melissa held out a shaking hand, clenched her fist and quickly spun her hand around. There was an unsettling crack as Jerome’s head twisted around.

  “We have a winner!” I cry, running over. “That was amazing! Using a shield? I didn’t see that coming. But looks like manpower can’t quite overcome a witch’s willpower!”
As I got to Melissa I knelt down and held out the microphone to the crouching girl.
  “You did very well at the end, there. We were all on the edge of our seats, but you’re okay now, you’ve won! How does it feel?”
She was breathing heavily, and she looked up, sadly, and all she said, in a hoarse, croaky voice was.
  “. . . he tried to kill me.
  “Well, you tried to kill each other, can’t blame him for that, I guess. Although my co-host admits that ‘little girl’ remark was uncalled for.” She nodded slowly, then stared off into space, catching her breath. “Uh . . . okay. Medic? Uh, I think we should get a medic to make sure she doesn’t have any brain damage. But either way, that was amazing. We have both of our semi-finalists! Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for the Witch!”
The stagehands all looked on, with concerned expressions on their faces.
  “That was that, but it’s not over until the last man’s left standing. Although, in this case, seems we have two ladies vying for the final spot of Monster Supreme. We’ve had a good time so far, but we still have ONE! . . . FINAL! . . . FIGHT! Come back soon, where we will finally face off our last two contenders to discover which is the master monster. Until then, stay safe, everybody!”

Tuesday 27 October 2015

Monster Bash, Tier 2: Semi-Final #1

Good evening, and welcome back to Monster Bash 2015! For those of you who missed out on the first four matches, well, we had an epic clash so far, we saw match-ups of:
Werewolf versus Ghost; Zombie versus Demon; Vampire versus Human & finally, Troll versus Witch.
They were a fascinating set of matches, some with more interesting results than others. But, right now, we will continue the fight, shaving down the numbers until we're left with just one champion. Who will it be? Let's head down the arena to see!

- - -

  "Thank you, Matt, and welcome back to Horton-Meier Churchyard, where we've done a little bit of reconstruction, renovation and lawn care, so that we could have a clean slate for our next round of fighting," I say, walking alongside the Church to head towards the commentator's desk, where there were those same two unimportant characters alongside a gorgeous, young woman. "Yet again, I am joined by the inimitable Jayalaw, to comment on tonight's match-up. You're looking radiant as ever, my dear."
“Thank you so much,” she responded. “The first tier was quite brutal, and some victories were unexpected. How will the second tier be organized?”
  “I’m glad you asked. Purely and simply, we’re matching up the winners of Round One and Two to fight in our first semi-final match, and tomorrow night, we match up the winners of Round Three and Four-”
“-Rounds Three and Four?” she repeated. “You mean the human will be facing the witch? That’s going to be a bit messy. They technically are both human and have suffered a few injuries already.”
  “Don’t worry, they know what they signed up for. But, it does mean that tonight we’ll be seeing our first champions face off, the Werewolf and the Demon. They too have their fair share of bruises, but they’re ready to go at it. Do you have any thoughts on tonight’s pairing?”
  “As for tonight’s pairing, my money’s on the demon Carver because she is crafty. She’ll also have more years of experience under her belt.”
  “Ah, true. y’know most of them - supernaturally or otherwise - look around the same age, it’s easy to forget that the vampire is . . . well, was over a hundred.”
“But undercut by arrogance.”
  “Indeed. But, now that you mention it, I think that too could be a point in Gareth’s favour tonight. More often than not, demons can be shown to possess that self-satisfied hubris. Even in her fight against the zombie, her self-confidence got her badly scarred. If she hasn’t learned from that mistake, then the Werewolf’s superior strength could be the upperhand that decides this match. But I have to admit, I’m with you on this one, demon all the way. What can I say, fire plus fur? Equals toast. Oh, and here come our contestants now!”
The gates on the left side, next to the trees, were opened by two stagehands just in time for a large truck to reverse into the yard. The stagehands opened up the doors and Gareth jumped out, his wrists tied up with heavy chains that lead back into the truck. He was wearing ripped jeans, shredded from his earlier fight, and a singlet.
  “Come on, let’s go!” he said, hopping up and down impatiently.
  “In this corner, Gareth Donahue. He’s proves his might against a ghastly wight, but will the wolf-man win the fight? Give it up for the Werewolf!”
The commentators all clapped as three stagehands walked into the arena with their ritual supplies. They drew the bloody symbol, lit the candles and recited the incantation, just as they had before. The chanter threw up his hands as the candles exploded in a firey tornado that filled the pentagram with flame, then extinguished to reveal Carver, the red-skinned, yellow-eyed demon. On her right arm, her hand was missing, but in its place she had been given a metal hook.
  “And facing up against him in this corner, the demon named ‘Carver’. She easily disposed of her decomposed woes, but suppose, will this devil overcome her latest foe? Give it up for the Demon!”
I stand up and announce. “It’s Fido versus Fiend, who will win? Let’s get ready to RUMBLE! Three . . . two . . . one, FIGHT!”

Gareth and Carver together made towards the middle of the arena. Garth walked with a confident swagger, but the demon was more careful as she made her way towards her opponent. After a moment, Gareth stopped.
  "Wait a minute . . ." he said, and he scanned the ground before picking up a small rock. He aimed and pegged the rock. Carver easily deflected it by swiping at it with her hook hand, making a sharp, metallic ringing.
  "Have you already resorted to throwing stones?" asked Carver.
 "No, love," said Gareth, flexing his muscles and straining his veins. "I just wanted to know you were solid this time . . ."
Gareth's singlet ripped to expose his bandaged ribs underneath, then fur and muscles grew and tore through the gauze. Bones cracked and snapped into place as Gareth became the Werewolf, and growled, hungrily, as it stared down the demon. Then, the werewolf ran forward on its hind legs.
The werewolf stood tall to swipe its claw. As it did, Carver swiftly kicked him in the ribs. The werewolf winced, but was otherwise unaffected. He swiped his claw and sent the demon flying. She hit the front of the church, and collapsed onto the steps like a ragdoll. But, the demon was more durable than she looked. She climbed to her feet and crouched in an aggressive stance with claws held out in front of her, eyes glowing orange. The werewolf began to advance, but fire burst forth from the demon's hands, Catching the Werewolf's stomach with the flame, the creature yelped and jumped back, cradling the singed hair with a paw. The demon ran forward and leapt over the werewolf's head, twisting in the air. She landed by gouging her hook into the werewolf's shoulderblade. The werewolf twisted to try to grab at her, but couldn't reach its arms around its back. Instead, the werewolf tucked and rolled, slamming its back into the dirt. Then the werewolf quickly rolled and twisted to stand up, but as it did so Carver's hook-hand shredded through the muscle of his back, gouging an inch-deep cut down to his waist.
All of the werewolf's hair stood on end as it yelped in pain.
  "You stupid animal," said Carver, looking a little bruised as she got to her feet. "You did that to yourself!"
Mouth slavering and ears flat against its head, the werewolf snarled viciously.
Carver just gritted her teeth and threw another ball of fire at the werewolf. This time, the werewolf jumped high over her head. It landed on the roof of the church and hid from the fire.
  "Pathetic, snivelling little dog-man," said Carver, as she backed away from the church until she could see the werewolf. It was standing on the roof, holding the cross on top to steady itself as it patted at the still-sizzling embers of its fur. "Escape is not available to us, beast. Fight, or die."
The werewolf was breathing heavily, blood dripping down its arm. It pumped up its chest, arched its head back and howled at the sky. Then, looking more confident, it took a running jump and leapt off the roof towards the demon, fangs bared, headfirst.
As the werewolf hit the demon, sinking its teeth into her, Carver swung her right arm upwards and the two tumbled heavily along the ground. When they stopped, the werewolf was on top of the demon, but he had fallen limp. The furry beast lifted off the ground, but not under his own power. The demon was lifting him up by his head as she got to her feet. Standing up, it became clear that her right arm, with the prosthetic hook, had been shoved into the werewolf's mouth. And, judging by both the angle, and the werewolf's limp body, the hook had penetrated his brain. As the demon glared, disgusted, at the corpse attached to her hook, the werewolf began to shrink. Deflating, like a slowly shrinking balloon, or an uncontracting muscle, the werewolf shrank back down into the natural form of the human it truly was.
As the wolf once more became the man, Gareth, Carver grabbed his jaw with her left hand, dislodged her hook from his skull and dropped the body, lifelessly, to the ground.

A bell sounded and the commentators all cheered.
  "We have a winner!" I cry, running forward. "That was an outstanding clash, my dear. A real . . . oh, wow."  I stop, wiping my eyes for a second as I catch the scent of burning hair. "That is what I call a pungent pong, ugh . . . well, uh, Carver, how are you doing this evening?"
  "I think this new hook was quite useful."
  "Yeah, they're pretty handy, aren't they?" I asked.
The demon just glared at me for the pun.
  "Okay . . . well, congratulations! I think the werewolf made a fatal mistake there, by using just his size and muscles, he forgot that he had the mind of a beast. I think that what turned the tides of this match was relying on animal instinct rather than tactics."
  "Of course," said the demon.
  ". . . yeah. Anyway, ladies and gentlemen, give it up for our first Finalist, the Demon!" The stagehands clap as the demon nods, then walks away.
"But, that was just the first semi-final, tomorrow, come back for our penultimate match, where we will see which of our remaining champions will survive for the final round. Thank you, you've been watching Monster Bash, 2015!"

Monday 26 October 2015

Santacide

Have you ever seen The Nightmare Before Christmas? I absolutely hate that movie. I know, it's a cult classic, it's beloved by millions and has it's own franchise and my own girlfriend adores it . . . but I hate it, passionately.
I admit that my disgust at the film comes from a sense of severe disappointment moreso than the degree of the badness. I am self-aware enough to admit that while the movie is bad, it is not irredeemably terrible. The reason I hate it is because, firstly, it was the first blu-ray I ever bought and I hated that experience immensely; but also, the cult status of the film lead me to believe that the film was astoundingly good. However, it was not. The music is bland and the lyrics are lame, and the story is insubstantial, a thin plot being thickened out by incessant singing.
The characters look interesting, and that makes for good merchandising, but the movie is unwatchable to me. It does have one good idea though, an interesting one, of adding horror elements to the otherwise cheery and bubbly season of Christmas.
That's what drew me to the movie in the first place, it's such a great juxtaposition. Comfort, warmth, joy and gifts with insecurity, cold, sadness and loss. But The Nightmare Before Christmas is not the only story to have made this thematic choice, of adding horror to Yuletide. So, I figured I could investigate this phenomenon of Evil Santas. The Word of the Day is: ‘HOLIDAY’
Holiday /holǝday/ n. 1. A day on which ordinary business is stopped, often in memory of some event, person, religious feast, etcetera. 2. (often pl. )A break from work often involving a trip away from home; vacation. ♦adj. 3. Relating to or suited to a holiday: A holiday frame of mind. ♦v.i. 4. To take a holiday: She will holiday on the Gold Coast.
What is unusual, to me, is that one of the first horror slasher movies ever made was Black Christmas, a horror movie with a killer dressed up as Santa Claus. Most confusing of all is that this wasn’t a Christmas movie . . . but it also wasn’t a Halloween movie. The film was first released in 1974 and it was in cinemas in October for Canadian audiences, but it was first shown to Americans in December. So, It wasn’t either of these holidays, but it was a little bit of both.
There were more Santa Slashers, in the form of Christmas Evil and Silent Night, Deadly Night, the latter of which garnered controversy by concerned parents and teachers who believed that lovable Santa should not be depicted as a serial killer; they forced the filmmakers to pull an ad campaign depicting Santa wielding an axe, and it was also widely protested and condemned.
In spite of, or perhaps because of, this controversy, Silent Night became a franchise with four sequels and a reboot.

But also, I know of a few even in my own experiences. Round the Twist, a show based on the books by Paul Jennings, featured an episode called “Santa Claws” based around a short story of the same name, wherein ‘Santa’ is actually a kind of genie creature with chimney-climbing claws which provides wishes with unfortunate consequences.
Then there’s my favourite, The Hogfather, a novel by Terry Pratchett where someone tries to assassinate the Discworld version of Father Christmas, and so Death takes his place, they also made a great miniseries based on it
Also there was an episode of the Tales from the Crypt called “And All Through the House” featuring an escaped mental patient wearing a Santa suit and wielding an axe (I think people like giving Santa an axe because the colour red makes people think of firemen).
And do I even need to mention the Robot Santa Claus from Futurama? It seems like people are really attracted to the idea of an evil Santa . . . but why?
Well, I could point out the Santa/Satan connection, with that anagram often the subject of comedy, but there are more relevant connections. In many traditions, Santa Claus is accompanied by a companion known as the Krampus. The Krampus was a devil-like creature with horns and cloven hooves that carried a sack. Santa makes his list, checks it twice, if you’re nice he gives you gifts; but, if you’re naughty, you would be visited by the Krampus, who would either give you coal, rocks or switches, or if you were truly bad, he would kidnap you and take you home to eat you for Christmas dinner. Then there's the Knut Goat, a creature in some parts of Europe said to go around and buck naughty kids. Then there's Black Pete, a racist caricature that would kidnap naughty kids, and force them to become future versions of Black Pete.

So, why are there all these horror elements sneaking into Christmas? Well, I’m not certain, but if you ask me, it’s evidence of the Pagan origins of Christmas. Despite what Kirk Cameron would like you to believe, Christmas has little, to nothing, to do with Christianity. It was an entirely Pagan celebration of the winter harvest. In fact, when you look at the History of both Christmas and Halloween,they are in fact very similar festivals.
Halloween takes its origins from Samhain, a Gaelic winter festival to celebrate a bountiful harvest. Meanwhile, Christmas takes its origins from Saturnalia, a Roman winter festival, which celebrated Saturn, a god of agriculture, and gift-giving to enjoy the plentiful yeild. And both festivals were held before the Winter Solstice, when farming would be more difficult, they were celebrated with animal sacrifices and prayed to gods of the agriculture.

So, in several ways, I guess you could say that Christmas and Halloween are basically the same holiday. In a matter of speaking at least . . . so, is it really such a stretch to suggest that Old Nick and St. Nick are the same person? If you do a little research, you’ll start to unravel this mystery yourself.

I’m the Absurd Word Nerd, and until next time, I hope you’re preparing for a Merry Halloween.