The Betty Hill Star Map

Over at Binnall of America, there is a new edition of the Paranormal Apostate.  This time around, I take a look at the Betty Hill Star Map.  Or at least, one popular interpretation of it.

For the uninitiated, Betty Hill (along with her husband, Barney) was one of the first alien abductees.   Through a 1965 UPI article, a bestselling book, John Fuller’s The Interrupted Journey, and a made-for-TV movie starring James Earl Jones as Barney, the Hill’s encounter provided the archetypal alien abduction account of popular imagination.

While Barney described the encounter as terrifying, Betty claimed to have friendly conversation with the alien leader.  According to Betty, the leader produced a three-dimensional, holographic map showing the location of the alien homeworld.  (Ms. Hill’s reproduction, drawn while in hypnosis, at left).

After reading Fuller’s book, Ohio school-teacher and genius-level intellect (no sarcasm) Marjorie Fish, using star-catalogs available at the time, using nothing but string and thread, produced a model showing the alien’s home-world to be Zeta 2 Reticuli, one part of a binary-star system 39 light years from Earth.  UFO researcher Stanton Friedman convinced the editors of Astronomy run an article about Fish’s interpretation.   It caused wide debate on the opinion pages, with even the late, great Carl Sagan weighing in.  This only further entrenched the Hill’s claims within the popular imagination.   In the upcoming Ridley Scott Alien-prequel Prometheus, the crew of the eponymous ship find themselves on a world orbiting Zeta 2 Reticuli.

Friedman has gone on to say Fish’s interpretation goes a long way to proving the validity of Hill’s claims.   Except…in advances in our knowledge of the universe over the past 40 years, has debunked Fish’s interpretation.  For more, read my column at Binnall of America.

So, This Exists…

While writing my last post, I remembered that in October of ’05, I wrote a series of articles for the Call of Cthulhu fan-site, Shoggoth.net, entitled “Octobernomicon.”  Each day for the entire month, I presented a new monster for use in the game, culled from urban legends, folklore, cryptozoology and Cthulhu Mythos stories.  One of those monsters, for October 25th, was T.E.D. Klein’s Xo’Tl’Mi-Go, from his “Children of the Kingdom.”  Unbeknownst to me, this monster was already in the Creature Companion and Malleus Monstrorum (which I have an original entry in, The Father-of-All-Sharks, an avatar of Great Cthulhu).  Though I did have Creature Companion at the time, I must have overlooked the entry.

The X-Files’ Flukeman is almost a perfect match for Klein’s description of the Xo’Tl’Mi-Go.

I’d like to read the entries again, see how I’ve improved or degraded as a writer over the intervening seven-years.  Unfortunately, the Octobernomicon files are lost, it seems.   Kinda.  Sorta.  I lost the files to a dead computer, and they are no longer on the Shoggoth.net site (which seems to be defunct).   However, a search did turn up this post on the Yog-Sothoth.net forums, reminding me of something I had completely forgotten about…

A year after I wrote the Octobernomicon series, the French Call of Cthulhu fan-site, Trouver Objet Cache, not only translated my work to French, but produced it as a .pdf e-book complete with artwork.   The French, yeah, they fucking put us American fans of Lovecraft to shame.   Go to the website, look at the kind of beautiful stuff they get for Call of Cthulhu, and be jealous.

There I am, in French.  I take back all the bad things I’ve said about them.

 If you can read the language, here is the French edition of the Octobernomicon for your perusal.  I may ask TOC if they have the original English-language files; doubtful though, the person who made the post at Yog-Sothoth has not been active in three years.  If anyone knows where I could find the original files, I’d appreciate it if you’d drop me a line.

The Events at Poroth Farm (or, Wherein I Gush)

Sunday night, I didn’t sleep very well.  And by “well,” I mean “not at all.”  The sun was up before my eyes managed to stay closed for a few hours.  Why you ask?  Because I read T.E.D. Klein’s “The Events at Poroth Farm” for the first time and could not remove it from between my ears.

Before everyone does their best impression of Donald Sutherland from Invasion of the Body Snatchers, I still have some weird-fiction-cred.   This wasn’t my first experience with Klein.  That…that was a magical December in ’03.  The Ceremonies took me into bed.  Before then, I was a mere boy.  I emerged a man.  The Ceremonies is arguably the best post-Lovecraft, post-Machen work of horror.  And by “arguably,” I mean I will fight you over it.  Like you said something bad about my grandma.

After The Ceremonies, I grabbed whatever Klein there was to find.  Which isn’t hard, just one anthology.  There is only way to talk about Dark Gods.  You whisper, “god damn,” and shake your head in amazement.  Most people who know Dark Gods cite the novellas “Black Man with a Horn” or “Petey” as their favorites.   For me, it is “Children of the Kingdom,” one of the best horror stories of the 20th century and criminally unknown.   I dare anyone to read “Children of the Kingdom” and it not be the first thing that comes to mind during a power-outage.  Not “better light some candles.”  Not “crap! Now how I am going to watch internet porn and pirate music?”  No, it should be, “Shit, no!  The Xo’Tl’Mi-Go!”

“The Events at Poroth Farm” were the exception to my ravenous apatite for all things Klein.  It’s been anthologized many times, but knowing Klein built The Ceremonies off the same concept and themes as “Poroth Farm,” I skipped the shorter piece.  After all, I’d already read The Ceremonies, why would I need to read “Poroth Farm,” right?

Last week, I came across “Poroth Farm” in the Cthulhu Mythos Mega-Pack, available on Kindle, ninety-nine stories for the staggering price of $0.99.  It was the first story in the collection I had not yet read, so I figured I would give it read, being almost ten years since I read The Ceremonies.

I’m an asshole.

As a fan for everything Lovecraft and Machen, the story tickled me in all the right places.   The sexual allegory making you uncomfortable yet?  No?  Okay, well, how about this?   Reading Klein’s writing is like being touched by a lover who knows everything I like and is going to give it to me, but at a wonderfully slow, pleasurably torturous pace.   “Poroth Farm” is perfection.  It is a slow-burn tale, that builds your complacency, makes you forget you are reading a horror story, so when the horror does come, it is an invasion, a violation, of your world.  Just like real life.  The horrors, like an encounter with the supernatural in real life, are only glimpsed, brushed with fingertips, with no true understanding of their nature or scope.  They are fleeting, but leave echoes.  The story is the philosophies of Lovecraft and Machen realized in the modern age (even if “Poroth Farm” is 40 years old this year, it does not read like it, still the quintessential modern Lovecraftian horror story).  You will find hints of Machen’s “The White People” and Lovecraft’s “The Colour Out of Space.”  One could see “Poroth Farm” as retelling of “Colour” as through the lens of Machen.

Part of me wants to spend the summer reading the books narrator Jeremy spent his time at Poroth Farm reading.  Then another part of me can hear the beat of moth-wings against the window and tells that first part to go straight to Hell.

And it has made me want to take a trip back to ”Poroth Farm” with a re-read of The Ceremonies.  But as the shorter work references and was inspired by Machen’s “The White People,”  I want to go to there as well.   Not sure where to start.  Both are beside my recliner, waiting.

But you, kind reader, if you have not already, read The Ceremonies, read Dark Godsread “The Events at Poroth Farm.”  There, I even made it easy for you.

No excuses.

The Dog Who Wished He’d Never Heard of Lovecraft

My adventures in audio-readings for the Lovecraft Ezine continues this month, with Anna Tambour‘s marvelous “The Dog Who Wished He’d Never Heard of Lovecraft.”  For those that know their Lovecraft, the title should already have you giggling.  Those who don’t, read “The Dunwich Horror” and “The Whisperer in the Darkness.”   Dogs fare worse than human protagonists in Lovecraft.   Under the guise of pastiche, Ms. Tambour takes on Lovecraftian tropes, the male protagonist fumbling against unspeakable truths, the fate of dogs, the conspicuous lack of women, critiquing and turning them in on themselves.  And has fun doing it.

Ms. Tambour has some pretty heavy weird-fiction credit, with stories appearing in both Lovecraft Unbound and Phantasmagorium #1.

Over at her blog, Ms. Tambour had this to say about my reading…

The stories are beautifully set, the artwork is delicious, and zounds! Each story is also presented in an audio version. “Ibsen” highly approves of Bruce L. Priddy’s reading of “The Dog Who Wished He’d Never Heard of Lovecraft”, and who am I to disagree?

Awesome.

No, screw that.  That’s not powerful enough.  Only cursing and italics can properly express my feelings.

Fuck Yeah!

That’s better.

If there isn’t a better motivation to keep reading and recording, I don’t know what is.

Werewolves, Conspiracy Theories and Batshit Books

For a few years now, I’ve wanted to read Arturo Perez-Reverte‘s Captain Alatriste series.  I’m a sucker for swashbuckling Renaissance adventure.   This week I got hold of a copy of the eponymous first book.  (Amazon?  Well would you look at that!  Right under my nose the whole time…) And you’d think I’d be happily drowning Perez-Reverte’s tale of the Spanish Golden Age.   But because I am also a sucker for werewolves and conspiracy theories, another book has usurped my attention…Lycandoids, SuperSoldiers and the Freedom War: The Saga of the Post-Apocalyptic Freedom Wars.

I’m not making this up, I swear…

(see, told you I wasn’t making this up…)

The advent of the internet and invention of the e-reader has democratized the publishing industry.   With just a tiny bit of start-up money, anyone can start a desktop, direct to the consumer publishing business.  I’ve certainly benefited from this with Eschatology.  And anyone with a story on their fingertips can circumvent both the traditional and new-media publishing process, uploading their work to Amazon or Barnes and Noble.  The problem is that these days anyone can publish a book.  Amazon (and I assume Barnes and Noble, but being a Kindle Fire owner, have not checked) is glutted with “independent” (spade-a-spade: self-published) works containing poor editing, poor story construction, poor writing and myriad other problems.  These indie writers have managed to prove that yes, you can judge a book by its cover.  For all its real and popularly-imagined evils, there is some value to the traditional publishing process.

Now, this isn’t to say that all independent books aren’t worth the ones-and-zeroes they are printed on, or that all indie writers are guilty of the above sins (or that traditional publishers only put out literary masterpieces). Scott Nicholson is a great example of an independent writer who thrives and produces quality work in the e-reading world.   There are plenty of examples of indie-writers and publishers doing the same.

Lycandoids, SuperSoldiers and the Freedom War: The Saga of the Post-Apocalyptic Freedom Wars is not one of these examples.  While the copy-editing is competent (mind-boggling I would even have to write such a phrase; it’s something all-too-frequently missing in self-published books), the word-crafting and storytelling are sub par.  The perspective shifts from first-person to third-person omniscient, usually between chapters, which isn’t too great of a sin, but sometimes between paragraphs; the first-person narrator will describe, omniscient, events he is not witness to.   Tense suffers shifts as well, between chapters, between paragraphs.  The characters are so uninteresting it would be a stretch to call them two-dimensional.   Dialogue is so leaden I am worried my Kindle will soon collapse in upon itself, the resulting singularity consuming the greater part of the 502 area code.

(Okay…so from the above it should be obvious I am not a professional book reviewer nor have anything resembling a formal education in English. Often, for me the difference between a good book and a bad one is much like how Justice Potter Stewart saw the difference between art and pornography.  That I could articulate the above criticisms is as significant as Caesar saying “NO!”  What this says about me as a writer I will let you, dear reader, decide.)

(A candid photo of me writing…)

From the description on Amazon, I could tell this book would be problematic.  So why am I reading it?  A few reasons.  One, it is free, discounted from $5.99.

Second, the plot is absolute batshit insanity.  And again, please keep in mind that I am not making any of this up.

Sometime in the very near future, a coalition consisting of the Occupy movement, Anonymous and fundamentalist Christian militia-groups team up (because why the fuck wouldn’t those groups align?) to overthrow the New World Order.  For those of you not in the know, according to conspiracy-theorists, the New World Order is a plot by the ruling-elite of the world to…be the ruling elite of the world.  Yes, I know this makes no sense.   The tide of the war (called the Freedom War, an Orwellian term if there was ever one; shows what the conspiracy-theorists would consider “freedom,” as you will see) is turned when Anonymous releases a virus that destroys every machine run by a microchip on the planet (“freeing” us from the tyranny of heat in the winter, hot meals, clean water and access to medicine.  Thanks, assholes), except for, of course, those computers and machines owned by the freedom-fighters.  This coalition even managed to defeat the legions of foreign troops, hidden for years in Mexico, that invaded America.  Now the ruling-elite, consisting of “international banksters” and the Illuminati and the Fourth Reich scientists who secretly controlled America (and you know, kudos to them for keeping for their genocidal tendencies in check for the past 70 years…) are in hiding, either in the underground base in Dulce, New Mexico shared with demonic-aliens or in their secret fleets around Mars.  On the run and losing the war, the New World Order unleashes their secret-weapon, the Lycandroids, biomechanical, genetically-engineered-with-the-help-of-aliens, super-soldiers resembling the werewolves of modern films.   Seven-feet tall, all fur, teeth, claws and rage.

(I’m sure the Jews were cut out of later drafts…)

It is like the authors shuffled a deck from the Illuminati card-game and based the plot off the first twenty cards dealt.

An aside…what was it that the New World Order was doing that was so evil?  According to the narrator (and all conspiracy theorists) they were engaged in a gradual, decades-long program involving MK-ULTRA, HAARP, flouride in the water, chemtrails and endless regional wars to dumb-down and depopulate the planet.  Of course, this is the same end achieved when the freedom-fighters disabled all electronics.  But that’s okay.   See, if you do not subscribe to the conspiracy-theorists beliefs, you are “sheeple,” “zombies” of the ruling elite, little more than their slave and not worthy of living.  Just listen to the disdain and hatred this dickhole spews, not for the elite, but for the average person.  Even worse are those skeptics who combat these irrational and often-time hate-filled beliefs;  we are government shills, paid disinfo-agents and the first on the list to face the firing squad when the revolution comes.

Another aside…the conspiracy-theorists have a sick obsession with revolution.   They claim a desire to overthrow the tyrannical socio-fascist United States government and restore our freedoms.  That’s complete bullshit.  What they really want is an excuse to kill their fellow Americans (because, remember, if you are not a believer, you are not worthy of living).  As the narrator of Lycandroids says in the opening paragraphs of the book, “Some say the Freedom War…may never end.  Maybe that is a good thing.”   These people have the mentality and maturity of a spoiled child.  Not only do they have no idea what real tyranny looks like, but raised on a diet of the detached-violence of video-games and the sanitized-violence of action movies, they have no idea what modern wars look like either.

Here’s the kicker and the third, most important reason I am reading the book…

The authors believe the Lycandroids are real.  

I first heard about the book when the authors were interviewed on the Church of Mabus podcast (sucker for conspiracy theories, remember?).  They base this off a variety of sources, from Linda Godfrey’s Michigan Dog-Man, American Indian myths, to the Beast of Land Between the Lakes, KY tall-tale (sadly, the story has disappeared from the internet, other than references to.  In short, the park is the hunting-grounds of a werewolf, which occasionally makes a meal of families.  The state and federal government cover up the murders.  Or something.  Whatever).  How else would you explain the (misleading) statistic that 90,000 people go missing every year in the United States (correction: the 90,000 figure is popular mythology; the book uses the 30,000 figure)?  Obviously the answer is genetically engineered werewolves.  Obviously.

And aliens.

And probably Jews.

See, Lycandroids is a warning to all those who would enjoy the outdoors.  The public needs to be made aware of these terrible, ferocious beasts.  Anyone who hunts, hikes or has more than two trees in a four-kilometer radius of their home is at risk.  As the dedication at the beginning of Lycandroids states, “This book is dedicated to the brave researchers and survivors who have gathered the vital information regarding the Lycandroid…which will, hopefully, save the lives of the innocent who love to venture into the forests to hike, camp, fish and hunt.”

I know what you’re thinking.  “But wait Mister Reverend Bruce, if these monsters are murdering tens-of-thousands every year, how come we have never heard about them!?”

Don’t worry your pretty little heads, dear readers.  Special-pleading gives us all the answers we need!  The reason we’ve never heard about these creatures is because, of course, the government covers up their existence.

And no good conspiracy-theory relying on special-pleading would be complete without its twin circular reasoning.  The fact there is no evidence supporting the authors claims is proof the creatures exist and of the cover-up!

Look, I know you have a head-ache by now.  I won’t keep you from the much needed aspirin much longer.

If you love werewolves, love conspiracy theories and possess the ability to suspend disbelief at superhuman levels and ignore bad writing, by all means, pick up this book.  It’s the literary equivalent of a SyFy original creature-feature and will cost you as much.

Otherwise, stay away.

And for god’s sake, stay out of the woods.

 

Wherein You Hear Me Read Words

“Bruce’s voice makes my bottom sweat.” — Keith David(1)

My new unpaid gig is a voice-talent(2) for the award-winning Lovecraft Ezine.  In the latest issue (#12, March 2012), I did my damnedest to live out my Arch Oboler-and-Wyllis Cooper(3) dreams with not one, but two stories.

(One of my heroes, the great Arch Oboler)

Instead of terrifying the world during the golden-age of radio as the masters, I’m terrifying the world through the golden-age of the podcast.  This time through, T.E. Grau’s (better known as the husband of Ives Hovanessian) “That Old Problem”(4) and John Palisano’s “Available Light” get the treatment from my golden-pipes.   Follow the links below to listen.  Go, now.  It’ll make your panties drop.

That Old Problem

Available Light

With “Available Light” you get the added bonus of hearing me breathe.  I forgot to use my make-shift pop-filter during recording.  What do I mean my make-shift pop-filter?

That’s right, a single white sock stretched over the microphone.  We do things in style in the 502.
Make-shift(5) recording equipment aside and frustrations during the recording process(6) aside, I love it.  A couple of years ago, I had the notion of producing a series of podcasts (with hopes of getting it to local radio) inspired by Lights Out and Quiet, Please.  Even had a few people on board, but alas, things fell through.  Doing the readings has given me that itch again.  A burning rash really, with eyes and mouths emerging from the scarlet sandpaper skin, demanding I do it.   “Once you have the proper equipment,” the entity-as-rash allows.

(1) May not be an real quote.   

(2) “Talent” being a generous term.

(3) Kinda-sorta.  Oboler and Cooper were primarily writers but Oboler did play himself on occasion, most famously in Lights Out’s  ”The Thing and the Author.”   After you finish listening to my readings, go listen to how the masters do it.  Lights Out and Quiet, Please.  While I favor Arch Oboler’s work, Cooper’sThe Thing on the Fourble Boardfrom Quiet, Please is perhaps the finest example of horror from the golden-age of radio.

(4) Which I read as “The Old Problem.”  Sorry Ted.

(5) Or the more proper term, low-class.  

(6) I would post my outtakes, but suspect they would become boring quick.  There are only so many variations of the word “fuck.”

(7) Yes, I know there isn’t a number seven above;  just making sure you are paying attention.