#Dime Store Adventures

[gemwolfz]

[hartshorn-and-isinglass]

I'd meant to look into the consumption cases in Vermont that got treated as revenants... I don't know when I'm going to personally go down that rabbit hole at this rate, but there's a list of sources in the video description so I'm bookmarking this for later.

Interesting that there seems to be more attention paid to excising the liver and lungs, rather than just the heart. The lungs almost make sense in the context of TB, but the liver too? Hepatic TB will enlarge your liver, and seeing an enlarged liver in a body suspected of being a vampire would certainly implicate it in whatever you thought was going on. But also, there's a long history of seeing the liver as the seat of the soul or the source of the vital energy that animates the body. Galen conceived of the liver as the most important organ in the body, seeing it as responsible for all sorts of fluid exchange, including the production of bile and the conversion of food into blood. So the liver might have been seen as the offending organ responsible for converting the life energy of others into fresh blood for the revenant.

Still blows my mind that Galen--yes, the second-century Roman Empire doctor guy--had such a huge influence on medicine well into the modern era. Hepatocentrism and cardiocentrism coexisted as competing models for centuries, but even as modern medicine came to align itself with cardiocentrism, the idea of the liver as the most important organ still hung on in the cultural imagination into the 19th century. I guess in rural New England folk medicine it hung on for a lot longer than it did in wider North American popular culture.

Most of the newspaper articles presented are from the 1850s-1870s and have this tone of, "can you believe there's people around here who do this shit?"--it's a "cringe superstition" as our host here puts it. And yet, collectively they are painting the picture of a deeply-embedded, persistent folk belief in New England that has its roots in 16th- and 17th-century European revenant legends. This was definitely a thing. Can you blame people, really? There was no cure for TB back then. Outbreaks could devastate entire families. You'll try a lot of things when you're desperate enough.

[gaykarstaagforever]

Forgotten US history: the time a rich religious extremist got taxpayers to fund the installation of ugly public fountains that shot boiling poisoned water at people, until Mark Twain incited a riot against them.

[forgottenbones]

Why does this nonsense phrase appear in so many old newspapers?

[lilikitsune18]

This is what happens when I get inspired by weird things.

So recently I was working on an essay and left my phone on YouTube and set to auto play. This led to a video by dime store adventures from 2 years ago talking about dogtown Massachusetts. (Linked here: https://youtu.be/T4yhm_S-dHc?si=zPBSfoo9aKkm7XOX ) I was extremely inspired by all of the weird and creepy stories about the place and wanted to do a few drawings with these ideas. This one was inspired by the story of Tammy. I decided to draw something inspired by it because the idea of a woman who claims to be a witch harassing those going down the road into giving her food or getting cursed. The entire situation sounds weirdly hilarious and extremely awkward to me. And admittedly a little creepy.

[imjustusingthistolikeartists]

Why does this nonsense phrase appear in so many old newspapers?

(Or, the original keyboard smash)

[kinsey3furry300]

"Destroying statues is destroying history! People in the good old days would never have stood for that!" People in the good old days: "Fuck that drinking fountain! Lets kill it!"

[zenobiaseptimia]

[sojourner-between-worlds]

If the internet/yt existed in the L&Co universe, George would absolutely have a side-hobby yt channel where he shares all of his research, inspired entirely by the channel I stumbled on with a dude who finds gravestones and does research on the person/story behind it, like Warren Gibbs whose epitaph accuses his wife of murder

[quinton-reviews]

Top 5 YouTubers in my mind this exact moment

5 NerdSync

4 Dime Store Adventures

3 Scott the Woz

2 Defunctland

1 Internet Comment Etiquette

[yeoldenews]

I found something fascinating and I was wondering if you'd come across any of these: https://youtu.be/vlurcp_qiSg?si=dDyD0jQ6C2X5DXFh

(The link goes to a YouTube video by Dime Store Adventures about the story behind the linotype keysmash "etaoin shrdlu" that often appears as a typo in old newspapers.)

I have definitely seen these around from time to time, but didn't know the phrase had such a cult following in newspaper printing lore.

That was very interesting! Thanks for the link.

[clonerightsagenda]

I’ve been using the RLPL as my main book hookup, and to their credit, they’re trying. It started out as the lost and found car and before you know it it’s filled halfway to the roof with discarded James Pattersons, because those things breed in liminal spaces, like as soon as you put your airport book down because you just can’t take one more dime store action flick-in-a-brick it starts doing the nasty with an abandoned Michael Crichton doorstopper and there you go, a new Alex Cross adventure enters the world. There were so many books piling up someone installed a little free library, and then a librarian who got a condo at Park Street Station took it over. Set up a reciprocal borrowing relationship with BPL and everything, you fill out this form placing your hold and saying what your schedule’s like, and a page runs to the station and meets your train when you get there. Now that’s what I call service. Of course, business major bozo Bespin keeps banning things, but is that going to stop Red Line’s badass book jockeys? No way no how. When RLPD comes knocking they just dangle the books out the car window on fishing line and haul them back in when the fuzz moves on. That’s how I found out about the library, saw a train pull into the station with Transport Justice: Designing Fair Transportation Systems hanging out the window like they were trawling for urban planning students. I hopped on to let them know their book was trying to Shawshank its way to freedom and they told me don’t worry Mallory, it’s all part of the plan. They’ve got a decent vet med section actually, since program grads offload their old textbooks.

Doing a Mallory piece for Podcast Girls Week and finally bringing my vision of Red Line's library to the world

[gaykarstaagforever]

For 152+ years, there was a town on the rocky heights above Gloucester ("Gloster"), Massachusetts. Founded as the shepherding community of Gloucester Commons in 1693, it came to be known as Dogtown as it declined after the American revolution. By 1830 the last resident was dead, and by 1845 the last bulding was torn down, turning it into a ghost town maze of stone ruins amidst glacial boulder deposits.

It is now a park / hiking area above the city of Gloucester, a dense new-growth forest dotted with bogs, where the stone ruins and old roads are still visible, and legends of witches and tragic deaths persist. It also hosts an abandoned tree farm, and the weird Babsen Boulders, a scheme to keep people employed during the Great Depression that only added new weird human stonework to an area already rich with it.

Dime Store Adventures takes us on a tour, while he retells the history and very queer (ha) legends of a long-lost world.

(Note: this feels like certified Blair Witch stuff. It isn't. He just hikes and educates us. ...Though if you indeed want to make an inexpensive horror movie, just adding some freaky jumpscares to a hiking video like this would be a brilliant idea.)

[theboywithburninghands]

So. I guess I kind of got into a flow, haven't I? Anyway, here's my first entirely Buttonblossom story, but it's... unconventional, I guess you might call it? It's another horror piece, but less hopeless than the last one. Although I'll still include trigger warnings for anyone that's squeamish. I... admit I mostly wrote this because of @red-balloon12 rightfully pointing out that I haven't had enough Ragatha in my Bunnyjesterdoll stories. But also because I wanted to have something specific happen. Anyway, enough preamble. Here story

The Dollhouse Part 1: Legs

T/W: Horror, chilopodophobia, gore against a giant bug

Another day, another adventure. Caine told the performers that he had worked hard on this one, which was usually a sign things were going to be unpleasant. Everyone hoped for shorter adventures so they could spend the rest of the day relaxing or… well, doing anything but adventuring, really. If Caine had put extra effort into an adventure, that was usually code for “it was going to take all day.” Sure enough, this one was a doozy.

Caine created a sprawling funhouse for the group to explore. The kind of funhouse that was usually maintained by a traveling carnival, full of rubber bats, cheap animatronic monsters that lurched from dark corners, a few rudimentary puzzles to solve, and an overuse of fog machines. Of course, this was The Amazing Digital Circus, so things like “budget” or “OSHA compliance” weren’t an issue. The first thing that happened upon the six performers stepping into Crazy Caine’s House of Tricks (the ringmaster insisted they call it by its full name) was the door slamming shut behind them, leaving them in complete darkness. 

Ragatha: Everyone okay? The others gave short affirmations. A loudspeaker steadily crackled to life. 

Ominous Voice: *in a thick Hungarian accent* Welcome… Welcome to Crazy Caine’s House of Tricks. I am your host for this little excursion. 

Zooble: Our “ghost host?” 

Gangle: *giggles*

Host: Ahh, you are a clever one, my asymmetrical friend. Keep that wit about you as you venture inside. If you would all be so kind, please, stand upon the illuminated circle with the first letter of your name. 

Six circles of light, in even lines of three, lit up on the floor. Red, blue, pink, yellow, purple and white, each with a black letter in the center. 

Jax: Yeah, I don’t think I’m gonna do that. 

Host: Oh, but you shall. Or else, Crazy Caine’s House of Tricks will keep your spirit trapped within its walls for eternity…

Jax: We’re already here for eternity, bub. Also, that is a terrible Lugosi voice. It’s not even a dime store imitation, it’s like the hobo outside the dime store. 

Pomni covered her mouth to keep from laughing out loud, trying to pass her outburst off as a stifled sneeze. 

Host: If you will not acquiesce, let me show you a little trick I can do. Ka-ZAM.

The purple circle of light blinked from its position amongst the others and appeared directly under Jax’s feet. The rabbit looked down at the light and applauded blandly.

Jax: Wooow, I’m straight up mystified. You can make a light move- I’m sure nobody has ever- 

The circle of light under Jax slid open vertically, revealing a hole beneath it. True to cartoon logic, Jax stood on thin air for a moment, his grin fading as he looked down at what he was about to fall into. 

Jax: …Okay.

He dropped out of sight with a whoosh.

Pomni: Jax! The other circles of light blinked from their original positions and reappeared underneath its corresponding performer, each one opening up and dropping them into a trapdoor. 

Gangle: Eep-! Zooble: S#?%-!

Kinger: *makes a noise not dissimilar to the Wilhelm scream*

Pomni: ACK-! 

Ragatha: Oh nOOO-!

The trapdoors slid shut. Host: Do tread carefully, my esteemed guests. You never know what might be behind the next corner… in Crazy Caine’s House of Tricks.

The host gives an ominous cackle before the intercom abruptly cuts off. 

—

Ragatha rocketed down a tube slide, her boneless legs flopping over her shoulders. 

Ragatha: -OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO- OOF! 

She crash landed into a pit full of multi-colored plastic balls, about a dozen of them flying through the air and bouncing away with rapid, hollow tapping sounds. Ragatha, practically upside down, pushed her legs off her shoulders and her dress off her face. It had flopped over her head when she landed in the ballpit. 

Ragatha: Graceful, Ragatha, truly graceful…

The doll woman waded through the waist-deep pit of plastic balls, trying to keep her mind off all the horror stories she remembered about the nasty things found in ball pits… dirty diapers, used needles… 

She grunted with effort, pulling herself up and out of the ballpit, straightening out her dress and sighing. 

Ragatha: Hello? Guys? …Marco! She got no reply and decided to check herself out, making sure she didn’t rip anything. She did feel an unpleasant itch on her left leg, so she might have popped a stitch… The itch… moved. Something was on her leg. Something-

with too many legs centipedeCENTIPEDECENTIPEDEOHGODCENTIPEDE-

Ragatha shrieked and frantically slapped at her leg, smacking the wretched little arthropod off of her. It flew onto the floor on its back, all of its horrible, spiky little legs flailing about to try and right itself. Before it could, Ragatha brought her foot down on the creature with a wet and juicy crunch. She hopped from foot to foot and flailed her arms about, patting down her entire body and shaking her dress just in case any more of the horrid things had gotten onto her. Her search came up empty, and she put her hands on her knees and panted. She then shot up and shook her fist at the ceiling.

Ragatha: F#$% YOU CAINE! 

She normally didn’t like cursing, but no one was around and the situation warranted a little profanity. She was going to be slapping at every itch she felt for the rest of the day… how could Caine stoop so low?! 

She looked at the crushed centipede on the floor. She felt a pang of guilt for killing it, but… it shouldn’t have been on her leg. 

She shuddered once again and double checked her dress and hair before walking to the nearby door. 

Ragatha: Onward and upward…  She opened the door hesitantly, and was admittedly a bit relieved by what she saw. It was a parlor, it looked like it could have fit right in at a castle or old fashioned mansion. Yellowish bricks made up the walls, and a roaring fireplace sat in front of a pair of some plush red armchairs. A small table sat between the chairs, a few statues made of different kinds of stone arranged neatly on top of it. The Persian carpet was a slightly different shade of red with gold trim, and a large coat of arms sat above the fireplace. It was a shield emblazoned in front of a gold fleur de lis, one side red and one side blue, the red side reading C and the blue side reading A, both letters silver. 

Ragatha: Oh wow. This is so… bougie. 

She smiled and went over to the fire, warming her hands on it. The architecture and atmosphere reminded her of a safe room from Resident Evil. She wanted to sit and rest a moment, but she knew better than to dawdle in a funhouse. 

On the opposite wall, she saw an old fashioned, heavy wooden door painted, what else, red. It lacked a doorknob, only having a single indentation in the center of the door, with a few words inscribed over it. On either side of the door stood two suits of armor, each about seven feet tall and clutching a pretty crude weapon. Nothing but a heavy, spiked metal ball on a stick. Some sort of mace. What were they called? It was something oddly elegant… She had no idea what time period the suits of  armor came from, but they looked ponderous to wear.

Ragatha approached the door and read the words written above the indentation.

Ragatha: “My marble walls as white as milk,

My insides just as soft as silk,

No doors inside, but within here, 

A golden treasure will appear.

But beware, for if you’re wrong, 

They will catch you before long.”

Ragatha put a hand on her chin. A riddle. She wasn’t the best with these. She was better with questions that had multiple right answers, philosophy and the like. The past was blurry, but she did remember struggling a lot with math and word problems. 

She wished Pomni was here. She was surprisingly great with math and logic questions. She also just… generally wished Pomni was around. Even if she was a nervous and cynical wreck most of the time, she was starting to come out of her shell. She had a really sweet little laugh and was the perfect size to pick up… plus she could ground the group whenever they started squabbling. Mostly because she had the guts to just tell somebody to shut their stupid mouth. She was a nervous wreck, but she never pretended not to be, and that honesty was super refreshing. 

It was only a few nights ago that Ragatha got to share a bed with Pomni for the first time. Pomni had warned her earlier that she might need some time to get used to cuddling, and Ragatha promised she would take her time. Almost immediately after Ragatha got under the covers, she felt Pomni’s arms around her midsection, and it wasn’t long until she had the jester snuggled up against her. Poor little thing was so touch-starved…

“I’m sorry if you get uncomfortable, we can stop if you need…” Pomni murmured into Ragatha’s chest. 

“Pomni, don’t worry… What good is a doll if you can’t touch it? Or cuddle it? Or love it?” Ragatha replied, petting down her hair and kissing her on the forehead. 

The look of pure contentment that washed over Pomni’s face just about made Ragatha’s heart melt. It had been a loooong time since she had made someone that happy, and sister, it felt good. 

She shook herself out of her lovesick haze and focused on the situation at hand. Okay, think Ragatha. Something white and soft with a treasure inside… Ragatha: Ugh, I should have paid more attention to those Haunted Tomb riddles in Spyro 3…

Well, when you got stuck behind a locked door, you looked for a key. Time to look around. She looked under the chairs and beneath the cushions, only turning up flecks of lint. She stared into the fireplace, making sure there was nothing behind the fire. Not that she would go sticking her hand into a lit fireplace, but it wouldn’t be the weirdest place she had found a key in this place. Only finding ash, she got to her feet and put a hand on her hip. This room wasn’t that big… Maybe it was back in the ball pit room? 

Ragatha: *to herself# I am NOT going back there. 

She wasn’t gonna waste her time digging through a ballpit and put herself at risk of running into more centipedes. So here she would stay. 

Ragatha examined the statues on the table. It was some kind of abstract art, vaguely humanlike figures that all straddled different 3D shapes, one on a sphere, another wrapped about a pyramid, another clutching an egg... This looked promising. 

Her eye and button fell onto one statue, a four-legged pewter creature with a smooth, featureless face, seated on top of a white cube. She picked the statue up, and the humanoid sculpture wobbled. It wasn’t attached all that well. After a little bit of jimmying, the statue came off, leaving only the cube in her hand. She set the statue back down on the table and tossed the cube from hand to hand. It was slightly soft and something rattled around inside. 

Ragatha: Bingo! 

She brought the cube over to the door, sliding it into the indent on the door. She took a few steps back and waited, her hands behind her back. 

At first, nothing happened. Then there was a gradual creak of rusty metal. Rust sprinkled down off of one of the suits of armor as it turned its empty head towards her. 

Ragatha: Uhh…

There was a loud crack as the suit of armor pulled its foot off the pedestal it stood on, a good chunk of yellow brick remained stuck to the bottom of his foot as it yanked its other foot off the pedestal. It stepped down off the pedestal, raising its weapon over its head.

Ragatha: Oh NO-! 

The ragdoll woman dove out of the way as it brought down the mace where she had been standing, smashing a decent sized hole in the brickwork. It turned its empty visor to look at her, pulling its enormous mace out of the floor with the same effort that someone might pick up a bowling ball. 

Ragatha: Hey, hey, easy..! I got the answer wrong! I’m sorry, will you let me try again?!- 

The suit of armor wound up for another go, Ragatha ducking behind one of the chairs as it swung. The mace smashed into the chair, shattering the back of it into splinters and bits of old, moth-eaten stuffing. 

Ragatha looked around for anything she could use as a weapon, and her eyes fell on the rug they were both standing on. Well, if this place worked like a cartoon, then maybe… 

She hurried to one end of the rug, the suit of armor lumbering after her with its mace raised. Ragatha shoved the chair and the table with statues on it off of the rug and picked up the edge of it, gulping. 

Ragatha: God I hope this works- HRNGH! 

She yanked the rug with all her might, the suit of armor stumbling backwards at the sudden shift beneath its heavy feet. It swung its arms for balance before landing with a teeth-chattering crash on its back. It struggled to stand back up, but it was simply too heavy to right itself, flailing its arms impotently. 

Ragatha: HA! I betcha wish you were dressed a little lighter now, don’t you?! 

Ragatha made her way over to the statues that had fallen on the floor and began to take the pieces that could be used on the door. But she was interrupted by a loud and decidedly wet smashing noise from the fallen suit of armor.

Ragatha screamed and scrambled backwards. From out of the suit of armor’s visor emerged an enormous centipede, as long and thick as a pool noodle. It flailed about like a live wire, eventually slowing down to turn its head to look at the terrified doll. Beady, unintelligent clusters of shoe-button eyes looked her over as its antennae writhed about, before it lunged for her. 

Ragatha: GET AWAY FROM ME!

Ragatha managed a pretty strong kick, knocking the enormous arthropod off course before it could drive its pincers into her leg. It let out a nauseating bubbly hiss before thrashing about a bit more, trying to free itself from the suit of armor. It eventually succeeded in yanking itself out of the visor and scuttled towards Ragatha. 

Ragatha: only manages a terrified whine, pressing herself against the wall

The giant centipede reared back like a snake about to strike, opening its pincers to drive them right into Ragatha’s face… but the blow never came. 

There was instead a crunch and a squish as a small hatchet was buried into the side of the creature’s face. Greenish yellow blood oozed out of it, and the centipede appeared to be in shock that part of its head was now cleaved apart. The hand holding the hatchet yanked the blade out of the creature’s carapace, the centipede turning to look for its attacker before the hatchet smashed into its face again, this time neatly splitting its head into two parts that were barely held together by vile sinew. 

Pomni: Ragatha, don’t look. 

Pomni pulled out the hatchet and motioned for Ragatha to turn around before chopping at the creature’s body. Ragatha did as she was asked and looked at the wall, hearing Pomni’s grunts of effort and the nasty crunch and squelch of the hatchet meeting arthropod flesh. After about a dozen good chops, Pomni sighed and plopped on the floor. The centipede was dead, cut into pieces, although many of its legs still twitched.

Pomni: Oh God, it smells f#%&$ng awful… *she covers where her nose would be* Ragatha, are you okay..? 

Ragatha refused to turn around, Pomni getting up with tremendous effort and walking over to the doll woman

Pomni: I… got that thing, Ragatha, it’s over. 

Ragatha looked at Pomni, her eye filled with tears of fright. The jester managed a weak smile.

Pomni: I… I guess we’re finally even, right? I saved you- EEP!

Ragatha pulled Pomni into a huge hug, still trembling. Pomni jumped a bit at the sudden action, but she hugged her right back, dropping the hatchet so she could squeeze the ragdoll as hard as she could. 

Pomni: I’m sorry that happened… I know you’re not okay, but-

Ragatha: How did you get in here..? You… We all fell through those trapdoors… 

Pomni: I climbed back up the slide and pried the doors open, there was a ball pit with a snake in it and I wasn't even going to entertain the idea of going through that again… I found that hatchet stuck in a statue’s head up there, and I… well, I just started chopping at the floor before that stupid intercom opened your trapdoor for me. I heard you screaming, and- mmf!

Ragatha pressed her lips to Pomni’s. The jester seriously jumped this time, expecting the circumstances of her first kiss on the lips with Ragatha to be… well, more romantic. And not next to a giant arthropod carcass. Still, her lips were warm and soft, so she savored the feeling while it lasted. 

Ragatha: *breaking the kiss* Thank you so much for saving me… I owe you so much more than a kiss for that, but-

Pomni: We-We’ll worry about it later. You're welcome though. Let’s get out of here. 

Ragatha: The… door is locked by a puzzle. I was trying to solve it when that monster sprung out at me…

Pomni went over to the door and read the riddle, snapping her fingers. 

Pomni: Oh, I’ve heard this one. It’s an egg. 

Ragatha, doing her very best to ignore the giant dead centipede, picked up the egg that had fallen off the statue, inserting it into the indent on the door. There was a click, and the door slid open, revealing darkness beyond the threshold. Pomni walked up beside her with the hatchet in her hand. 

Pomni: Well… whatever horrible thing comes next… gripping Ragatha’s hand We’ll… face it together, right?

Ragatha: *she looks down, and, despite her fear, manages her usual glowing smile* Right.

The two of them entered the door, hand in hand. 

[phrear]

enjoying smaller youtubers