#move over nightmind

[kaiidos]

being trans is so funny because you can be the tiniest fucking twink known to man and still have the voice of a 36-year-old radio announcer

[the-nosy-neighbor]

Just So

TW: mentions of suicide related information

I thought I would look at “Just So,” based on the “Bug-A-Bye” song post, to see if I could find any information there.  I did find a few lines that could be related or seemed a bit suspicious. 

A note to start, the singing on this one is way better than the way “Bug-A-Bye” is sung. And this one is sung without accompaniment, so it would stand to reason that “Just So” would be the one that is sung poorly or off pace.  I wonder what that means?

So, the premise of the song is that Frank is tying his bow tie and Julie comes in.  He is getting ready for a croquet game with the neighbors, led by Julie.  Julie shows up in her bowling ball dress and tells Frank they are now doing hula hoop bowling ball croquet instead of just regular croquet (though I am sure there was some difference because Julie doesn’t play games the way they are designed.)

They start talking about how much Frank likes rules, and he starts singing this song about how he likes everything just so.  Wally comes in and asks if Home can play croquet, so they decide to move the game to Home’s yard so Home can play, too.  Julie goes to take care of this and tell Sally they are moving the opening ceremonies.

Wally stays with Frank and continues to talk to him about his rules thing, because he doesn’t understand.  During this conversation, Barnaby busts in and we find out he has boots on his hand, because he is planning to be a horse, because he thinks they are playing polo.  (Side note:  Barnaby rushes in is a thing.  This is a definitely crashing a conversation.  It reminds me of when Barnaby joins the talk show and completely derails the interview—which was veering to Wally’s love life, or NightMind was hitting on him, not sure.  I wonder if Barnaby is doing these things to control or disrupt what Wally says or does.)

Barnaby comes in and wrecks the song, sings a different song, and says he is off to take Wally to the game.  Frank stays to put on the proper bow tie, now that Julie is wearing the bowling ball dress.  (Something to remember for the idea that Frank and Julie are in a relationship.  Is this couple matching or just Frank’s weird idea of what is appropriate for the game? There is also mention in this of Frank helping Julie get all the leaves out of her hair after she got launched on top of Howdy’s store.  Yes,I went to see if I could find the green chalk on the map.)

Lyrics:

Let's see now.. right over left, under and through, fold on THIS side, down, up and around, pass it through and PULL- there! A perfectly tied Croquet Tie.

When I was reading this, I wondered if this didn’t have something nefarious to it, like that these were the directions to tie a noose or something.  I’m not going to post the instructions to be doubly safe here, but it’s not incredibly off.  I think that the pass through and pull is what made me think of it.  It does match the bow tie instructions very closely through the beginning and middle, but gets kind of weird at the end, but it is hard to describe, I am sure.  I’m going to go with maybe.  Maybe it is a reference.  I was mostly thinking back to some early concept art.

This art, which is early enough to still include Sunny, shows all the characters hanging (assumed by the feet) with Wally peering up over the bottom edge of the photo, wide eyed.  I have always found this creepy but it is also one of my favorite pieces from the project.  It’s so evocative.

I forgot an important thought here, marionettes are stored by hanging them. I don't know why that didn't occur to me before, that it could be them in storage. Still, that is interesting given the theory that maybe Frank is removing puplets from harm by some sort of death.

So, while the image is still creepy, it has a basis in puppeteering.  I did look up muppet storage, though, and it is more box based, just one muppet per box. 

We can be on the lookout for something like this as well.  In the “Look, I made a dog”piece, there is a box in the forefront, but it looks to be a regular box, and I would assume the arrow is the important bit, as it is pointing down.  The neighbors are mostly hand rod puppets, which we explored a bit before.  Other are walkaround style muppets and they have muppets that have human hands inside the muppet hands, like Rowlf (or just have human hands like Beaker or Swedish Chef).  Generally, the type depends on what they need the muppet to do.

FRANK: I know how to tie the loop around, and exactly how to pull!

JULIE: Or like the way you keep your garden all in rows!

FRANK: Yes! That way I always know, where each plant will grow.

This one is a throw back to the line above, tie the loop around and pull, which is part of the process of tying the knot, so could be a reference to hanging.  Then, with the garden line, it makes me think of the “Bug-A-Bye” post, with multiple references to the beloved bugs being underground.  Frank always knows which plant will grow.  Is this a reference to Frank knowing exactly where his friends are stored, AKA where to find the bodies? 

There is a portion of the song where Frank uses a crayon metaphor to explain the neat and orderly thing to Wally.  We find out that Frank has a tendency to arrange people’s crayons in rainbow order.  I was definitely that kid.  I could spend a long time organizing crayons by color.  He says something that seems to have a double meaning:

FRANK: I like it best… when red goes in front of the rest.

And the colors all stay inside the lines!

When each and every hue, from orange yellow green and blue,

WALLY: …and purple?

FRANK: RIGHT! Sometimes things have an order that their context, demands-

Since this universe has a strong correlation between character and color, it always pings my radar.  There are lots of examples to use for order, and this is an attempt to relate to something that Wally might already understand, which of course he doesn’t.

“Color inside the lines” has become an idiom in the English language, meant “to think or act within generally accepted guidelines.” That really fits my theory of the neighborhood, that they are being forced by the strongest power to behave.  It sounds like something someone would say to a dictator.  (Like the Mitchell and Webb skit where the baddie tries to get his henchman to kill someone without saying it out loud.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U6cake3bwnY)

Red goes first, so maybe Wally and Home come first?  If we are doing a proper order of the neighborhood, then it makes sense that they would come first. This is also backed up by the idea of Home being a panopticon in the neighborhood, centrally located and always watching.

Purple is left off of Frank’s list, though Wally’s line can be seen as an interruption and he hadn’t gotten to it yet.  If he meant to leave it off, it makes sense that he could be trying to avoid bringing Eddie to Wally/Home’s attention.  Wally/Home wants to make sure that Frank knows that he hasn’t forgotten about him.  Alternatively, if Wally/Home thinks that Frank is on his/their team, that he is asking Frank if Eddie is behaving. 

I did try to draw a line in rainbow colors through the houses in the neighborhood, but it didn't really give me anything.

After Barnaby shows up, and Frank tells them to leave, there is another section about the colors:

WALLY: Aw. I wanted to learn the colors.

FRANK: Wally, I think you already know the colors.

WALLY: …I could hear them again.

BARNABY: Yeah Frank, which one’s orange again? [sounding genuinely confused] Am I orange?

This could be cutesy Wally, for sure.  Most of this could be cutesy character development.  But with the focus on colors, maybe it means more.  Wally wants to know information about the neighbors, like he specifically asked about purple.  Frank says there isn’t more to say beyond what Wally knows, but Wally is kind of pushing the issue.  I don’t get Barnaby a lot of the time.  Is this mocking him?  Insinuating that he doesn’t know anything about colors/neighbors?

Frank kicks them out and then goes to finish his tie, and Howdy shows up and interrupts again.  He says, “On no, Howdy, not now.” I would assume this means he wasn’t going to play the game, or he would say it was moved to Home’s yard. 

I wonder if we have more interactions between Frank and Howdy, to see if there is anything going on there. 

[rouxed]

FULL NAME: Aviva Marie Roux

GENDER: Cis woman

PRONOUNS: She / her

AGE + BIRTHDAY: 28 / may 7th

LENGTH OF TIME IN FAIRFORD: Most of her life

HOUSING: Downtown Fairford

OCCUPATION: Radio show host for local station / podcaster

tw for death , car accidents , small injury mention , abandonment ( none in explicit detail )

the story doesn't start with aviva. it starts with other people : camile, faith & elodie.

the random roommate selection created three best friends at a small local college in houston, texas. where faith and elodie were a couple soon after meeting, camile was their best friend -- the pair had planned to open a veterinary clinic in houston after graduation further down the line while camile was going into social sciences. the three of them were inseparable, even after college.

though they didn't live together post - college, the trio were just as close and over the moon when camile and her then - boyfriend were expecting. it was a bit sooner than she had expected and anticipated, but she was happy.

ABANDONMENT MENTION / their romance was whirlwind, and by the end of it, she was 8 months pregnant and alone ---- her father dipped, leaving camile alone. she was willing and capable to handle it though. everything was set up for the two of them and she was willing to do it alone, no father on the birth certificate.

instead, elodie and faith stepped in. they were taking the time to make moves and get their own business started, camile was grateful they would allow aviva to stay with them during the 9 to 5 camile was working to make sure she was being properly cared for by people she trusted. by the time aviva was a few months old there had already been a routine in place: bring aviva to work, have her stay with faith and elodie and then go home. every day, that was it. until it wasn’t.

CAR ACCIDENT + DEATH TW / it was a year and a half of this routine. they were running late, and camile hated being late. one wrong place at the wrong time and they were t-boned in an busy intersection after the other driver was going way over the speed limit. the impact left aviva with scratches due to the seat she was in and position of the hit, and her mother without her life. elodie and faith were listed as aviva’s god parents due to their close relationship ( her mother had considered them practically family in every regard for obvious reasons ) , they took her in. by that time they already had quite a child and it was a no - brainer when it came down to it.

in the early 2000's, the family moved to fairford to take care of faith's ailing parents, and they've been here ever since. they currently ( and have always ) lived on a farm on the outskirts of town, taking care and raising animals.

currently, aviva is a radio show dj on the local station ( she has a 12 to 3 am spot most nights ) , podcaster / youtube. she loves online horror and mysteries and trying to figure them out. currently lives in a small apartment downtown and visits her parents weekly at the very least.

despite her adoption, aviva has always carried her mother's last name, in an almost - tribute.

has a radio show most nights, but sat and fridays are reserved for playing 2000s club bangers ( playlist of mine , probably what she plays is here )

can and will in fact play her friends requests and music. she loves finding new music and bands and musicians and will play the shit out of them.

very stubborn and headstrong. this can be quite confusing for her because she will not do something someone tells her to do, and will switch up at the drop of a hat just to enforce her own personal rules.

attended the local community college for media studies, graduated a year or two ago.

her big dream is to make scripted series, has various scripts hidden all around and is always taking inspo from life around her, including current + past relationships and people she knows.

i think her podcast is very much nightmind, nexpo, blameitjorge type of content with a more serious danny / kurtis / drew type of comedy, if that makes sense. she's very sarcastic and sometimes a bit dry humored but can take a topic seriously if asked and needed.

pinterest, musings blog tag

tldr: grew up 99% in fairford, a goofy gal who loves her family but most importantly club bangers

[tentacledtherapist]

Lisa,

Per our last letter: I am so impressed! Physics is fascinating but I do not have the brain for it. I love when my friends who love math and physics tell me about it though, they make it make sense, you know? My last roommate kept a whiteboard in her room and just FILLED it with mathematics and would dissect math problems in conversations with us in order to solve them. It was fun. Pity about the Men In STEM type of Personality though, I'm sure you're a delight to chat with minus the golf. Funny, I get zapped myself.... not irregularly? I like the way it makes my fingertips buzz.

As for essayists and Youtubers I also quite like Jacob Geller and watch Bernadette Banner, Bernadette is an inspiration to me. I'm very familiar with both nightmind and Defunctland, I also share a theme park fascination. I love videos of urban exploration in places like that, as well as the technology behind them. My specific fascination is dark rides, but I also enjoy just watching rollercoaster videos too just cuz they're neat. I started in the theme park side of youtube when I started watching Haunted House runthrough videos, looking at the effects and costumes, then it moved on to the dark rides and went from there.

I also watch Morgan Donner, Nicole Rudolph, Karolina Zebrowska, Sew Rena and Rebecca Maksy who are in the same vein of creator as Bernadette. I also enjoy doll creators in the background like Dollightful and Hextian, etellan and Poppen Atelier. Essayists I like, or content creators in general, Athena P is deeply funny, Strange Aeons and Izzyzz are very popular, Kaz Rowe is my BELOVED for a LGBT perspective on history, Li Speaks and Dream Jelly for nostalgia essays, CZWorld and Dead Meat are great for horror, Caitlin Doughty for some really good insight on death work and death culture though she is by no means the last and only creator i follow on that, and hazelyt with their AMAZING creepypasta retrospective I cannot recommend more. If you like horror, but not necessarily campy horror, check out the yt channel nana825763. They made the famous username666 but made this absolutely insane short film called "my house walkthrough" that is a must see for those who like horror that allows you to dissect it moment to moment but isn't very long. Entirely practical effects, I cannot stress how much this formed a huge portion of my standards for scary stuff that doesn't rely on jumpscares, but pure artistry. They literally destroyed this house over time to get each take for the movie so it is WILD to imagine how they did it (the behind the scenes is also amazing).

- Creature

P.s.: I'm so glad you liked Frankenhooker! Definitely one of those sleeper hits that you can tell inspired some of LF, along with things like Re-Animator and Weird Science, Death Becomes Her too (which has some WILD old effects). But I also see the Heathers and Edward Scissorhands comparisons. Not sure if you're a Heathers fan?

i do like heathers quite a bit! and i love edward scissorhands! all the movies you mentioned there i’ve seen more than once and i like ‘em a lot! there’s a thing i’ve seen around more than once about how if lisa frankenstein the movie was actually made in the 80’s, we’d be played by johnny depp and winona ryder, which i do kinda agree with-

thank you for the recommendations too!!!! i cannot wait to check out “my house walkthrough”! it sounds so so so cool, omg. for your little description, it reminds me of, like, wham city comedy’s projects “unedited footage of a bear” and “this house has people in it”? both of which i absolutely LOVED

plus i’m a sucker for good practical effects? i love when you can watch an effect and see viscerally how real it is, because something is actually happening on set? even if it isn’t “perfect,” at least it’s real, ya know?

it’s the same principle as my fascination with theme park engineering? cause a lot of those places have to conceal the actual inner workings of things to maintain illusion, but they’re all real and practical and i think it’s so fun to try and figure out every bit of engineering that went into how the effects work? it’s like a puzzle, i guess

real, physical special effects are just so so cool

- Lisa

[latefrequencies]

Candace Newmaker connections

I really really do not care to think that the game has any direct real connection to Candace Newmaker at all but I was entertaining that thought and I thought about what the implications of that might be for certain things in Petscop.

So it’s clear there’s a concept of cycles and stuff in Petscop and “close the loop” to make Care NLM become Care A again is a Thing (also I would not be surprised if that ended up becoming the main plot of the secret game especially given how much we are told about Care compared to anyone else in the thing).

there was a thing where I was writing up an informal debunking-ish of the Candace Newmaker Theory and while doing so, I kinda stopped and thought “is anyone in the game supposed to be Candace Newmaker?” The reason I thought that was because there’s this Thing that at least a few people believe, that thing being that Michael Hammond is a reference to a boy called Michael Hammond who was executed in 1708. I very much more strongly agree with Nightmare Masterclass’s belief that it’s a reference to a linguist of the same name and not just another reference to dead children (to cite another YouTuber, I share NightMind’s sentiments regarding people putting dead children in media to be “creepy”).

But basically the fact that I had to address the concept that one character in the game might be a reference to a real-life child who died made me think of the idea of the more prominent dead child associated with Petscop having a direct equivalent and I thought “you know what, no one in this game is Candace Newmaker.”

Except then I went “oh shit no Player Character is ‘Newmaker’, TOOL said so” and then my brain went to some interesting places

The common belief is that the Quitter’s Room is a Candace Newmaker reference. I thought “is the Quitter supposed to be Candace...?” and then i remembered the thing about the Quitter looking just like the Player Character except having a different head and how she moves when Player Character moves (well except for that one bit when She Doesn’t but yknow)

and then I thought about the text in the Quitter’s Room (”do you remember being born” and how it’s shown in reverse and in the normal way you read text)

So if Paul is making Candace Newmaker references, the Quitter’s room could contain two Newmakers - the one who was a real person and the Player Character based on what TOOL told them. So they’re mirrors of each other in that regard as well, and this is less a plot thing and more like. demonstrating the theme of cycles and loops (one Newmaker going over the same space as another Newmaker). I think mirrors and reflections can be symbols relevant to loops too, since it’s something being made to face a copy of itself and implicitly creates a loop there

If Player Character is a Newmaker and that’s a reference to Candace Newmaker and everything else people think are references are indeed references, that might mean that Player Character is supposed to do something involved rebirth or being reborn but have it be successful. I can’t help but wonder if this has to do with how Care was said to be reborn.

Again I like. I really do not like the Candace Newmaker theory but if there’s any intentionality behind it it could be like.......serving as a motif for this thing? if that makes sense? hhh Idk anymore

[ifall]

More Like the Stars

by

CHRISTIAN WIMAN

I don't want to be alive anymore.

I don't want to be alive enough to want that.

One is not meant to turn on one's creator

with ferocity expendable in only one way.

Or is that exactly how one is meant to turn

to burn

beyond the love that from beyond being

has come to us:

Christ's ever unhearable

and thus always too bearable

scream.

In love and dread we learn to listen

for beloved dread

coming upon us like a whiplash rain

we watch through a window.

In pain we learn pain.

Sometimes amid the rancid moonlight and mindlice of my insomnia

there gleams a scalpel blade

so clean with meaning

so shaped and sharpened to interstellar blue

that drawing it —in season due —

across my own throat

there comes not blood but an ancient answering

starlight.

Once upon a time in a pleasingly modern slaughterhospice

with a view of sky-contempted skyscrapers

and Lake Michigan's immaculate sewage

my inner skin was skinned mouth to bowels,

my soul —deadword, die to find it.

For self-pity there must remain a self.

Ah, but even shitting one's self

one still finds one's self hastening to hide it all

from the kind Ukranian nearly bearded night nurse.

Fentanyl patches patching my stalactite thighs

my diaphanous shoulders

the very air eating me

like a late leaf

that once I would have flourished

for a perishable lover

or lonelied like some catpiss poignancy

into a poem.

Dead brain, living will, little pills

entangling pain with adoration of it,

morphine machine whose little beep

(heavenly bell)

conjures me to the suddenly more tolerable hallways

of hell . . .

                        Lovely Leila,

so unsurgically curved,

disclosing as she leans to clean my lines

a bit of icelace undergarment like the very last trace

of a glacier.

The brain the brain the brain flickering electrically

in and out,

in,

         out—

not the mind in which I love

my wife

whose tightwound nightmind conjures Christ in diapers,

for instance, filthy infant, or later,

in a mist of adolescent bad weather,

bored of wood, dogdead Judea, squawk-box God,

some restless absurdity of earth, she says,

through which the rest of heaven can come.

Once upon a time I walked through the chemical glamour

of a night refinery

sparking dangerously without and within

for beside me under her underclothes

undulated an incarnation

of creation's finest failure:

moonskin to make a young man wince

coupled with stifling innocence.

Still, we managed.

And over the wrought-iron railing of the country club

to which neither of us could possibly belong,

in the moonskinned pool that seemed both to embody and imbibe

her, we improved.

And later, out on a green (to be sixteen!)

when the starshower I thought was mine

was mining me for sweat, muscle, memory

to make its own death

shine unceasingly inside of me,

even unto hell,

                              we excelled.

Can it be that her last name was really Key?

So much life in this poem

so much salvageable and saving love

but it is I fear I swear I tear open

what heart I have left

to keep it from being

and beating and bearing down upon me

•

What rest in faith

wrested

              from grief

What truce

            with truth

in bowing

down

not to the ground

of being

              but simply

to the ground

Affliction flickers

distant

              now

like a structure

on fire

             Love's

reprieve

moves through me

like a breeze

But antlike

            existence

crawls all over me Lord

and I cry out

if you call

            this vise

quiet

             a cry

this riot

of needs and genes

an I

Feelingly

            among the

bones

             and nerves

of sounds

I make my scathing

way

            Failingly

in church

or in the parked

car

            before work

I try

             to pray

What might it mean

to surrender

             to the wonder

nothing

               means

Not to end

             with a little flourish

                           of earth

Not to end

•

                                                                                                  Love is the living heart of dread

                                                                            Love I love you unto the very edge of being

                                                                                                                                                 Dead

•

Something in us suffering touches,

teaches first to find

little coves in our loves: blank nothings

wherein we are what we always were

             — blank nothings —

but changed or rearranged

as atoms

              in the random

                            kingdom

                                          of things:

hand, we say, or eye, or hair,

as if to make ourselves — to stake ourselves — truly

there

Knowing now not to move in time

we are moved

                       by tiger-striped tails

bloodfine fins

some natureless cerulean

one would say

thinking oneself

out of nature

Something in us, suffering, touches,

torches,

              so we may saunter

seeingly

through an altogether other

element,

as once in the Shedd Aquarium in Chicago

               I floated    a moment

with my love and the two new lives

borne from us

                          who loved best

the eensy

                 green

                              almost

                                             unfish

more like the stars

when you close your eyes and whirl

open to the whirling

grains

so freed from things

                                       you fall

                                                     down

                                                                laughing

at the havoc

For me for a long time

not the minnows mattered

but the pattern after: miraculous

I didn't think

to think:

all those mite-eyes and animate instants

answering at once to my need

and to nothing

as if my very nerves worked

in finally a saving sense

Something in us touches

suffering

                 touching

us

like the constellations

of kinetic quiet

that bound us beyond us

as right to the wall the girls pressed

their still-forming faces

through which the wild new schools flew

                                                         almost

                                          too green

                            too blue

              to stand

And I held your hand.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/57865