#november 16 2022

[dogstomp]

Dogstomp #2871 - November 16th

Patreon / Twitter / Discord Server

[dmwrites]

“It’s not fair.” Joel muttered to himself. He was watching, not stalking, watching, Jimmy and Tango walking around Tumble Town together, chatting and laughing and looking like they were having a lot of fun. Joel hated fun, more specifically them. So, he flew down from his hiding spot to grouch at them. “Oi! Idiot toy and ice guy! You’re both so annoying!”

“JOEL!” Jimmy yelled, shaking his fist out of instinct.

“Woah, woah, big guy! You can’t talk to Jim like that!” Tango strode forward, frowning and crossing his arms at the god. “What’s got your toga in a bunch, huh?”

“I don’t need a reason to hate, I’m a god and he’s an annoying little toy. And you, ice boy, are his little soulmate, so you too will suffer.” Joel sneered at them.

“Jimmy, you know what?” Tango said thoughtfully. “I think that Joel here is projecting his anger onto us, because Etho didn’t come to visit him.”

Jimmy gasped. “Tango you’re a genius!” He started laughing. “Oh my god, Joel’s jealous!”

“Am not!” Joel said defensively. “I could care less about him, he was just some guy, I would never care what he thinks or why he didn’t come to see me even though you two morons got hang out with each other. I’m not jealous!”

Jimmy and Tango were laughing now, and Joel huffed and puffed at them, feeling how red his face must be. Tango was the first to stop, and spoke again.

“Listen, dude, you’re literally a god! Just, like, summon Etho here or something. I’m sure he’s just in his singleplayer world or something, hasn’t even noticed that the hermits left hermitcraft.”

“He can’t do that, he’s weak! He’s a weak little man!” Jimmy laughs turned into screams when Joel hit him with lightning.

It wasn’t too bad of an idea though, Joel thought as he flew back to Stratos. Perhaps if he prayed to his fellow gods, he could be granted some extra power to jump over to another world, just enough to grab Etho. He hated that Tango had read him like a book, but it was true, he missed his soulmate, and had sulked when he found out that Etho wasn’t among the people that had come through the rift.

“Oh great and powerful Peril.” Joel stood in the peaceful temple he’d built for some god he could hardly remember. And he wasn’t weaker then them, just to be clear, he was just collaborating with the other gods, because he just loved teamwork. “I don’t know if you know, but I once was in a relation ship, like an actual wooden boat that looked so cute, with a guy called Etho. You might know him, he’s kinda a big deal, super mysterious and cool. We were soulmates, I showed him everything he knows, well, you know how it goes. Anyway, I want to bring him here, but I need some-” and here Joel looked around conspiratorially, like someone would be spying on him from the bushes. The only person around was Hermes, who was playing in the water a ways away, “extra power to get him. Could you please help?”

There was a moment of silence, and Joel stood with his head bowed. And then, Joel felt a heaviness enter his skin, and he knew that the prayer had worked. He snapped his fingers, and a portal appeared in midair, rippling in the breeze.

“Hermes! I’ll be right back, son!” Joel called. Hermes looked up and waved. Joel stepped into the portal, closing his eyes and concentrating on Etho, his mask and his laugh and his sarcasm.

And when he opened his eyes again, he was in a field, and there was a man with a shock of white hair with his back to him. He was surrounded by bits of redstone machines, and Joel grinned.

“Honey, I’m home!”

Etho yelped and turned around, pulling out his sword. “Wha- who- hold on, Joel?”

“The one and only!” Joel couldn’t stop smiling.

“What- hold on, hold on. Why are you dressed like that, and why do you have a beard, and, most importantly, why are you here?” Etho cocked his head and approached Joel slowly.

“Listen, we don’t have much time before my extra power gives out.” Joel told him. “Long story short I’m a god now, surprise, and all of your hermit guys came through some rift into empires- you remember empires, right- and you weren’t there and I was upset because the silly toy got his soulmate back- come with me!” Joel grabbed Etho by the arm and dragged him into the portal, giving Etho no time to respond.

They appeared back in Peril’s temple in an instant, and Joel sighed as the heaviness in his skin left him, and the portal vanished. Etho gripped Joel’s arm and looked around.

“Where am I? Did I have some bad mushroom soup or something?”

“No, no, my friend, this is my kingdom, Stratos! I am super cool and hot, I’m a god, baby.” Joel spread his arms so Etho could behold it. “You’re impressed, I can tell.”

Etho’s breathing was slowing, and he let go of Joel. “It was just very sudden, all of this. You know, I was trying to figure out a redstone machine that could invert-”

“Hermes! Come meet your dad’s old fling!” Joel called.

“Dad?” Etho asked, distracted at once. Hermes came running over and waved right into Etho’s face. “Hi there. Is this your father?” Hermes nodded, hugging Joel’s leg for a moment before running off again. “You had a kid?”

“Oh, yes, with Daddy Sausage, it’s a funny story actually, we-”

“Sorry, who?” Etho interrupted, eyebrows raised high, a laugh making his voice crack.

“Oh, shut up.” Joel muttered. “Listen, I did not do all of this just for you to laugh at me for what I call the man I co-parent with. My builds are in the sky and amazing, and I am so tall and hot. Right?”

Etho eyed him over. “Still shorter then me.” He said.

“Etho, I swear!” Joel said, but he couldn’t help but smile. Etho was back with him, and it felt right.

[card-of-the-day]

Today's Card Is: Pikachu

[tyforthevnm]

lsdunes: Where have you been seeing #PastLives? Let us know! 📸:@katerussellftw

[November 16, 2022]

[1morteveryday]

320/365 👣

[minorhoursmagazine]

Issue 28, containing: Regarding Mountains, Sleeping in New Places, A New Locale, Working in New Places, the Humor of Editors, Commonplaces, &c.

------------------------------

SOME EDITORIAL NOTES

I am, at this moment (but not, notably, this moment), writing from a small house in a small place in the middle of Vermont, a smallish state that borders my equally small commonwealth-- but has mountains that (unlike the hulking New Hampshire peaks that sneak up close behind and threaten you lightly for your loose change) stand distant across wide valleys, like kings and queens of wardrobe worlds with considerably more concerns than me, in this small house in this small place with worries much smaller than whatever makes these mountains look quite like that.

------------------------------

REGARDING MOUNTAINS

As a matter of policy, I prefer the cutthroats of my childhood. There's an honesty to the assholes of the White Mountains, standing deliberately in front of your path regardless of whatever direction you want to go, and probably also smoking something cheap and foul while muttering about how we just don't understand them, Mom.

These very regal Vermont mountains, with wide skirts spread down and out over the vast valleys, are deeply lovely, but, also, I'm pretty sure, probably too high in the in-step for the likes of humanity-- and if your mountains aren't out to kill you personally, then why even bother worshipping them?

------------------------------

SLEEPING IN NEW PLACES: A SHORT LIST OF CONCERNS

Any monster that lives under your bed will travel with you to the new location.

Further: The years of painstaking siege tactics you've developed to maintain the sanctity of your feet against said monster will crumble in the face of Different Blankets.

Light switches are in the wrong places.

Bathrooms are also in the wrong places.

All silverware, glassware, and stoneware are, as you may have guessed by now, in the wrong places.

Further: The sheer number of things in the wrong places will suggest to you -- correctly -- that there is a malevolent force deliberately moving things when you're not looking.

So far as you know, the malevolent force (a) is not the monster under your bed, and (b) apparently has reasonable electrician and plumbing skills, as the light switches and bathrooms, despite being in the wrong locations, nevertheless do seem to work.

The monster under your bed will quietly reassure you that the malevolent force is licensed.

But will follow that up very quickly by making a noise that sounds just like a draining pipe in a house that's not your own--

So really the odds that there will be a malevolent force eager to take on your modest list of home repair tasks instead of, like, joining forces with the monster under your bed to do something truly distressing will be... slim.

------------------------------

A NEW LOCALE

Since the above, I have returned home, and am no longer writing from a small house in a small state, et cetera.

Though, it should be noted, I am not at this moment (yes, indeed, this moment) in my humble abode. I have, through good fortune and odd connections found myself with a small shared studio space, which is a useful place to both work and store my various Arts and Crafts.

Behold:

Fig. 1. A busy (but as yet unimaginative) desk area. The work of others lurks in the background. The night is formless through the windows.

------------------------------

WORKING IN NEW PLACES: A SHORT LIST OF CONCERNS

Ostensibly a good thing: There is no bed here, and therefore the monster that lives under your bed has no easy method of hiding. This is less comforting than it should be.

The artists in the next bay over have some funny ideas about what sorts of paintings are nice to leave pointed directly at your desk.

Gas heating can be either a lovely and quiet modern convenience or one step up from the Victorian era of open flames and surprising psychological torture. You have one guess as to what your new work place has.

The rent is almost disturbingly low, and while this will make this venture an extremely reasonable method of giving you storage, workspace, and an excuse not to spend money at Starbucks while holding down a table, it does mean that there are. Compromises. That must be made.

Sometimes you will think fondly of your good old familiar monster. How you know all its rules. How it could negotiate with any malevolent forces around and about-- and, for that matter, you miss the licensed and professional malevolent forces of the recent past, who would not, for instance, make you put up with this bathroom.

Ah, the bathroom. Past what the artist who has been here longest cheerfully refers to as "the creepy door." Next to the room that is apparently being demolished as part of the landlord's slow and uninterested hobby of owning big old factories and fixing them up when the spirit moves him. Down the hall that has a Mystery Lamp that is sometimes on, sometimes not, and is the only source of illumination at night.

For reasons that escape you, you will think it's a good idea to work at night here. Consistently.

The artist who has been here longest has cheerfully let you know that while falling asleep at your desk is probably fine, it does get "spooky" at night. This has been evidenced by the fact that, at the moment you contemplate this memory, a strange noise has started up to your left and just behind you-- which you comforted yourself for several moments was a train passing by until you remembered that, in fact, what's immediately outside this building is a river.

The last time you spent any significant amount of time past midnight in this studio, the building groaned and a painting fell off the wall without warning.

So anyway, you are considering hauling a small cot up three flights purely so your own personal, preferred monster is around to poke at your shins, mutter about lap blankets, and cordially make friends with whatever else is... around.

------------------------------

THE HUMOR OF EDITORS

We here at The Minor Hours and Small Thoughts Magazine of course were delighted to stay in Vermont and are equally delighted to be in an excellent and odd studio space. But we do so like our little jokes, and, incidentally, we are totally fine with the fact that the gas heater's fan has abruptly stopped and left a stunning silence filled with nothing but our typing fingers and the, to be entirely fair, the dulcet tones of Anais Mitchell.

She is, notably, singing her cover of "Tam Lin," which is less comforting than we would necessarily prefer, but it could be significantly worse. This playlist also has more than one murder ballad.

------------------------------

COMMONPLACES

From The Classic Tradition In Japanese Architecture, by Teiji Itoh and Yukio Futagawa:

The word wabi (侘び) does not lend itself readily to translation, for it can mean a number of things: loneliness, desolation, rustic simplicity, quiet taste, a gentle affection for antique, unostentatious, and rather melancholy refinement.

******

By Jarod K. Anderson, writing as twitter user The CryptoNaturalist:

I once wrote, “every memory is a ghost and the house they haunt is you.” The boy I was, the boy who slept in maple trees and knew many plants by smell, he has thoughtless understanding of things I must not forget. He holds them for me. For us. Not all haunting is malicious.

******

From "Start Here," by Caitlyn Siehl:

When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it.

------------------------------

ANNOUNCEMENTS

It is, perhaps, time to leave my esteemed work location. The music has turned to "The False Lady," which is surely not auspicious.

If you would like to write a letter to be produced/answered in the magazine, please email me at minor.hours.magazine@gmail.com with the subject line:

Letter to the Magazine: [subject of letter as you would like to see it printed]

If you wish the letter to be anonymous or under a nom de plume, please state so in the body of the email; similarly, if you'd rather not be printed at all, please also state so in the body of the email. It will otherwise be assumed that mail sent to that address is intended for print.

Alternately, commenting on the Patreon post will get you a similar result, with much less fuss.

******

As always, you can find me at my regular website, katherinecrighton.com, or sometimes via twitter, at @c_katherine.

To support the magazine and get it delivered directly to your inbox, join the Patreon.

-Until next week, be safe.

[averbaldumpingground]

"It couldn't have been a pleasant way to go."

"What, radiation sickness? No. I was part of the Xi'an Inquest. There hadn't anything we could do for the survivors."

Savannah Mokri had only been half-right when it came to the whereabouts of her father's former colleagues. Fred Okeke, despite his incredibly advanced age, was alive.

"He thinks it's the Third Expansion again," his son had said when Josephine arrived on Pontus Major. Her brief visit with former engineer had left him upset and reciting old cricket statistics.

Like most unaugmented citizens who managed to live past one hundred and forty, Fred had regressed to the relative safety of his childhood, not even recognizing his own sons. And nobody had thought to keep any of his field notes from the three Brighton expeditions his expertise had been called in on.

Zahava Meier had not been remotely as lucky.

[yahooanswersblog]

topgun100: MAGA COUNTRY

Me: Usually more problems there than other parts of the US. Teenage pregnancy, poverty, obesity and other health problems.

[mermaidinthecity]

ashleytisdale: 🤍

By @adrianmartinn

[naomiscottstyle]

What: JW Anderson Run Hany Print Cropped Hoodie - £265

Where: LOEWE Rodeo Drive Party

When: November 16, 2022

[ratedr4revenge]

You told me you felt it in an instant and I told you I felt the same

I was ready but you were in hell

Now I backed up unfortunately without a parting word

Instead, a quick kiss and off to work

Where he saw me with my light whisper dim

Tides were rising in my eyes and the moon was full but I tried to remain stronger than the oceans inside

Now I see both of your smiles and wince

For a few moments, go back and rest ice on the sting

Take a hit for the air we shared

Exhale. Respira. Exhale.

May our eyes meet once again like the beginning

Where you tell me it feels like everything disappears when we kiss

Where you tell me you felt it in an instant and I tell you I felt the same

November 16, 2022, Elisabeth

[fishchomp]

me inside

i am art.

i am art.

do not touch me

do not even look.

[music-asylum]

November 16, 2022

[druggeddraccus]

update to this. last night my parents and i went out to dinner and then we all went to the bar where my dad plays darts.

i had a great time and my uncle rusty introduced me to a lot of people. and they told me about another bar in our area that does a drag show on wednesdays so i might try that out sometime. my uncle rusty said i could drag him out anywhere if i didn’t want to go by myself lol

so a couple weeks ago when my mom was in town she went with my dad to the bar while he played darts

and she told me “you should come out with him sometime, it’s fun to people watch” blah blah whatever

and then tonight my dad asked me if i was looking for another relationship and i told him that i had dating apps on my phone and i go on them and message some people but then i just get disinterested. and Then he told me a few minutes after tthat “i’m surprised that there’s so many gay girls at the bar during dart night. their pretty good (at darts). i don’t know if you’d be interested in them though”

thanks guys for trying to set me up with the gay girls lol

[acquiescest]

irt the lrb what would you say if i said liam & noel spent new years 2023 together in paris

what would you say if i said liam bought the house in france (the one with noel's name carved into the walls) in march 2023 and that month noel talked about wanting to spend several months in paris

which could mean nothing