Ross Lockhart > Recent Status Updates

“Barkonauts are dogs who complete their missions. We’re voting on whether we’re still Barkonauts. And if we’re not Barkonauts, we’re just a bunch of lost dogs.”

Yes! It went there!

“The moral of that story, I think, is that being poor will kill you.”

"Fascism is also mythopoetic insofar as its ideological system does not only seek to create new myths but also to create a kind of mythical reality, or an everyday life that stems from myth rather than fact."

"…fascism is an ideology that draws on old, ancient, and even arcane myths of racial, cultural, ethnic, and national origins to develop a plan for the 'new man.'"

"vague, elusive, fragmentary impressions of wonder, beauty, and adventurous expectancy."

"Miss Mack," by Michael McDowell, was a lot of fun, and I couldn't resist casting it in my head while reading.

Sour, stagnant water with sour things in it; soft slimy things though they had jaws and claws and tentacles. He knew they were there – Auntie Green had described them to him. She had also told him that the floor was weak and rotten. If he fell through the floor, those things would have him.

"The fatal touch and chain reaction of a graceful leather ankle boot."

"Sometimes bad decisions keep lasting forever."

The American id could not be educated, Spinks thought. It needed horror in order to stay awake and to justify its most pleasurable pursuit, the destruction of helpless people who had never done anything wrong.

America is truly Lovecraft's country: fearful because it cannot love.

I was amused to see that while wiser books stayed on the shelves, the novels were almost always on loan, romances in particular. It made me think that what the world needed was not wisdom, but stories.

Here, in horror's heart, I had found my people. Only, what people they turned out to be! Shamblers, moochers, living corpses with terrified eyes. Angry women and stealthy children. Vacant people set like stones at the feet of trees.

"After all, there's nothing especially lovable about a billowing collection of atoms, spiraling around in compliance with laws that have nothing to do with us."

"He needed to believe that he was a superior being, or at least that he belonged to a superior race, because, in his heart, Howard was terrified that he was nothing at all. His prejudice was like a child making a wall out of sand, to keep the ocean out."

Ablo, Aklo, Outer Spheres.

Then, damme, I must have drows'd, for the next I knew, the Boy had vanish'd, and with him, all my Suits except the thin blue, the Flatbush Overcoat I had from Sonia, and Samuelus's Radio, which he had entrusted to my Safe-Keeping. How shall any of it be replac'd?

"Cigarettes of any brand suddenly tasted like rotten plums."

"It all starts with someone like you begins to suspect that everything is a trifle."

"It seemed as though some kind of religious ritual were taking place."

"I want to see their faces, to hover above their sleeping eyelids like a guttering flame, to slip inside their dreams, spend the nights flaring in through their forehead, their eyelids. Until their nightmares are filled with my eyes, my eyes as the blood drains out. Until they hear my voice asking, demanding, why."