Friday, November 16, 2018

2018: November 16th

Goddamn this woman is amazing. I've really enjoyed the evolution of Chelsea Wolfe's sound, and can  only hope we get another album or at least an EP soon.

Plus, not to be overly male, but can this woman become any hotter? Doubtful.

I'm knee-deep in dead Arctic terrorists and mutant penguins and I LOVE IT! Robert Payne Cabeen's Cold Cuts might just go down as my favorite read in 2018.

I expected to dig it because Arctic horror was sewn into my blood long ago by a little movie called The Thing. However, the way in which Mr. Cabeen moves from horror to humor to heartbreaking empathy and genuine touching moments of real human emotion is at times jaw-dropping and has made this a marvelous read. And the best part? This book takes heavy influence from George A. Romero's original formula, in that the killer mutant penguins only show up to remind us - and the protagonists, two scientific researchers stuck in the remains of an arctic research station destroyed by terrorists - that they're there. The meat of the book is about two guys stuck in comfortable-enough living quarters, counting the days, watching their food deplete and their minds unravel. SO GOOD. Strongly recommended. Here's a nifty little video I found of the author reading a passage:

Playlist from 11/15:

Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - B-Sides & Rarities Vol. III
Ghost Cop - One Weird Trick
Thought Gang - Eponymous
David Lynch & Dean Hurley - The Air is On Fire

Card of the day:

Sevens are always a mixed bag. You get the strength of Netzach (Victory), but the uneven energy of coming off the perfection of Six, Tiphareth. Futility fits the moment. Trapped in my home, still under the weather, I've been unable to make much progress writing because I always have trouble writing among all the distractions I've accumulated in my life. There's too many novels and comics and a wonderful cat who seems to know just when to vie for my attention. It's all my own personal bullshit - I'm distracted because some part of me recoils at the amount of work left even as close as I am to finishing this, but the usual way around that is the coffeeshop (so fuck all them squares that say those of us who write in coffeeshops do so for attention - believe me, the last thing I want in my coffeeshop is interaction with anyone else there, no offense to the staff, who totally get it, btw). But yeah, unable to do that, futility is exactly what I feel. Will today be better? Hopefully, now that I've aired all that "out loud."

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