As I bodaciously rode the bus through sespiquidian fields of black nightfall, I turned my thoughts towards thy stars, O Fear Mythos! I got to thinking about the history and the weird nature of the whole enchilada.
In the beginning, of course, was the Slenderman Mythos, which started after Just Another Fool rocked the internet sensation. A simple tale, one of a perhaps intellectual love and loss, ruminating best in its later posts when it set up and broke all conventions for blog fiction. From there spawned such epic feasts as Marble Hornets, Tribe Twelfth, and Everyman HYBRID, and sprawling dizzying epics like The Tutorial, White Elephants, and et cetera. But there was too much talk of proxies and too little focus on good horror, so some people got together after a few years and started this gargonzolian nightmarefest we now know as the Fear Mythos.
In the beginning, there was simple blogs. Hidden in the Trees and Ontological and junk. They focused on a couple of monsters, showing proxies in whole new ways, and plus they were the scariest. And over time, more people joined and the place got a whole lot less cool because there were too many people spoiling the broth. Like really, did we really need Built For Two and its many sequels? That blog wasn't even scary. Between you and me, I never saw what the big deal was. But then my tastes have always been more thought-provoking and interesting. Eventually, sometime after yet another millionth new Fear was invented, long after the Woodenslendergrapher or whatever the fuck its name was, the scariness of the Fear Mythos stopped being so prominent in its focus.
Any sane reader will agree with me that that point, the point where the mythos stopped being about the horror and started seriously navel-gazing, was sometime before OH GOD THE RAPTURE IS BURNING ended. Even that story's later parts were really unhorror, it was like reading a Coen brothers movie, it was kinda cool at parts but mostly there was like no real.. chutzpah to its Fears, y'know? Where once that story could rock me to my core, Act 6 turned into this neverending boat ride of boredom with too many new characters that seriously nobody cared about and too much teen drama. Then the author started retconning shit? Hey man! All the best internet writers utilize the internet's "FIRST DRAFTS ONLY" policy!
But I digress. Like a cancer, this new trend of "no horror, we're too scared for that" spread throughout everything else. Suddenly nobody wanted to dare writing anything scary. And the mythos withered like a rose in autumn, perishing in periwinkle, as they say. Now it is the comedy writers (SHUDDERS) who dance upon its grave, twiddling their flutes and making fun of everything we used to be.
Well, I won't stand for it! That's why I have finally made my public return and started this blog. Not only do I want to keep my fans updated on who I'm killing, but more importantly I recognize that someone needs to set an example for these greenmasks who dare insult our mythos's horror pedigree by calling themselves "Fearbloggers." Someone needs to reincite the fear in our bones. And I am willing, since no one else will, to take up that mantel.
Let these Ten Commandments of Fear be my calling card of hate:
1) Thou Shalt Always Kill. None of this "characters get away scot-free to be moody and shit" business. This is a horror community. We need blood!
2) Thou Shalt Respect The Hierarchy Of Content. It's quite simple: Vlogs > ARGs >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Blogs >>>>> Creepypasta. Vlogs are the creme de la creme of creep. They're mimetic and junk (that's an intellectual way of saying they're performance arts rather than crummy campfire stories like blogs are). Vlogs are what we aspire for.
3) Thou Shalt Not Worship False Idols. We're the F E A R mythos. Not the "James Joyce" mythos. Not the "Comedic" mythos. Not the "Drag Slenderman Into The Dirt And Make Him A Lawyer" mythos. Not even the "Fears But Bullshit And Wordy And Pretentious" mythos. The FEAR mythos.
4) Thou Shalt Not Commit Blog Adultery. Come up with your own ideas. If you feel like you have to steal the good ideas of another blog, and I don't care how much better that blog is than yours, then you're obviously not cut out to blog at all! I'm sorry, I'm just saying.
5) Thou Shalt Not Be Pretentious. Get your stupid grandpa plays out of your brain. Stop what you're doing, don't give The Archangel a pipe and a beret. The only wandering your blogs should do is wandering headfirst into the bloodbath, or the grave, or both.
6) Thou Shalt Finish Using The Twenty Billion Fears We Already Have Before Thy Start Grasping For New Ones. I don't think I need to explain this one.
7) Thou Shalt Honour Thy Blogging Forefathers. Brush up on your mythos history, even if you just read this post-- that's why I made it. If blogging conventions were good enough for the Slender Man Greats, they're good enough for you.
8) Thou Shalt Not Maketh Unto Thee Any Graven Manifesto. Get that manifesto out of your brains. There is only one Ten Commandments post in this mythos, and this is it.
9) Thou Shalt Not Covet Alliterator's Blogging Proficiency. He's insanely good and insanely fast. But if you keep aspiring to be like him, you miss the sight of the bigger picture: There's more than enough horror to go around!
Finally, the most important: 10) Thou Shalt Fear Without Meta. This one is twofold. Firstly, it reinforces the essence of what I've been saying: Focus on the bonecurdling chills that we were made for. And secondly, it stresses not to be so pretentious. The meta is a cheap gimmick, only to be used by the utter experts. But remember your place in the hierarchy of content. Don't overstep your bounds, otherwise you too will be contributing to the cancer that kills off everything we hold dear.
Be smart. Be safe. Be aware. Our future depends on it.
Wednesday, November 4, 2015
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
Proxy Mobile Post (65/96) Chapter 10 part one
The Feared One gave me an iPhone so I can blog while I'm on my unholy mission. I would have preferred Android but whatever.
In order to get to the Pentagon I have to take the bus through several stops, each one more dangerous than the last. This city doesn't like proxies. It likes me even less because I'm a Blogger, even though I'm called noblogger.
Stop 1: The Timberwolf Cafe
Stop 2: Downtown
Stop 3: Subway Station
Stop 4: Runner Hospital
Stop 5: Grove Street
Stop 6: Blindman High
Stop 7: The Pentagon
I feel a little ill. I hope I don't bleed out on this bus. Oh god. Fhofpevor sbe zber pbqrf! Rl'yeh fhtagn... wish me luck, guys.
In order to get to the Pentagon I have to take the bus through several stops, each one more dangerous than the last. This city doesn't like proxies. It likes me even less because I'm a Blogger, even though I'm called noblogger.
Stop 1: The Timberwolf Cafe
Stop 2: Downtown
Stop 3: Subway Station
Stop 4: Runner Hospital
Stop 5: Grove Street
Stop 6: Blindman High
Stop 7: The Pentagon
I feel a little ill. I hope I don't bleed out on this bus. Oh god. Fhofpevor sbe zber pbqrf! Rl'yeh fhtagn... wish me luck, guys.
Proxy Post (64/96)
"hellonoblogger" the Feared One said.
"Yo how's my main man doing," I said.
"prettygoodyouknowhowitis.anywayyouareprobablywonderingwhyIcalledyouhere," he said.
"You want me to kill alliterator," I said. "I know this because there were rumours. But killing alliterator is impossible," I then said.
"iwantyoutokillalliterator," he said.
"But killing alliterator is impossible," I then said.
"trueunlessyouhavetheonlyweaponcapableofkillinghim," he growled.
"And what's that?" I sasked.
"themightypen," he said. "inordertoacquirethisunholysacrilegedeviceyouwillhavetotraveltotheveryoutskirtsofthecityandstealitfromthepentagon."
"You want me... to.... steal from the Pentagon?" I said, bewildered.
"itwon'tbeeasy,youknowthistobetrue.butthatiswhyientrustthistasktoyou,foryouaremyrighthandman." he said.
I laughed and said "You know it. Bros before hoes, am I right?"
He laughed this time and said "youaremyfavouriteproxyBilly."
I recoiled in angst from this name which was a dagger to my heart. "You hurt me. I don't go by that name anymore," I whispered.
"i'msorrybutifyouwanttotrulybenobloggeryouwillhavetodothis." He said.
"I'll manage. When do you want it done by?" I said.
"iwantitdonebyyesterdayyouknowthat.butyouarenotgoodenoughtohavedoneitbyyesterdayorelseyouwouldhavedoneitbynow." He said.
"Relax. I will do it, and it'll be done as soon as I can." I said. Then I turned and walked out.
"beforeyougothereisonemorething," he said.
"Make it quick," I said. I was planning on crashing with some proxy friends for the night.
"youmayhavetokillalltheSlendermenonyourjourney.alsodoesthenameMaskymeananythingtoyou?" he said.
".........." I said, not turning around.
"ithoughtnot.goodluck." he said. Then I walked out, trying to wrap my head around all of this.
"Yo how's my main man doing," I said.
"prettygoodyouknowhowitis.anywayyouareprobablywonderingwhyIcalledyouhere," he said.
"You want me to kill alliterator," I said. "I know this because there were rumours. But killing alliterator is impossible," I then said.
"iwantyoutokillalliterator," he said.
"But killing alliterator is impossible," I then said.
"trueunlessyouhavetheonlyweaponcapableofkillinghim," he growled.
"And what's that?" I sasked.
"themightypen," he said. "inordertoacquirethisunholysacrilegedeviceyouwillhavetotraveltotheveryoutskirtsofthecityandstealitfromthepentagon."
"You want me... to.... steal from the Pentagon?" I said, bewildered.
"itwon'tbeeasy,youknowthistobetrue.butthatiswhyientrustthistasktoyou,foryouaremyrighthandman." he said.
I laughed and said "You know it. Bros before hoes, am I right?"
He laughed this time and said "youaremyfavouriteproxyBilly."
I recoiled in angst from this name which was a dagger to my heart. "You hurt me. I don't go by that name anymore," I whispered.
"i'msorrybutifyouwanttotrulybenobloggeryouwillhavetodothis." He said.
"I'll manage. When do you want it done by?" I said.
"iwantitdonebyyesterdayyouknowthat.butyouarenotgoodenoughtohavedoneitbyyesterdayorelseyouwouldhavedoneitbynow." He said.
"Relax. I will do it, and it'll be done as soon as I can." I said. Then I turned and walked out.
"beforeyougothereisonemorething," he said.
"Make it quick," I said. I was planning on crashing with some proxy friends for the night.
"youmayhavetokillalltheSlendermenonyourjourney.alsodoesthenameMaskymeananythingtoyou?" he said.
".........." I said, not turning around.
"ithoughtnot.goodluck." he said. Then I walked out, trying to wrap my head around all of this.
Proxy Post (63/96)
The proxy apartment is subdivided into three floors: The top floor is the penthouse suite where all us cool proxies live, it has a hot tub, and a big closet full of guns. The middle floor is a lame place for the lame greenmasks, it's nothing but beds for each of them and they don't even get snack privileges until they've killed their first Runner. The bottom floor is the altar where we throw Runner prisoners and force them to worship the Feared One. It also has a reception for welcoming us when we get home, because the front door is there and also vending machines stocked with Masky Way bars. Sometimes we go on the roof and drink beer together.
It's not easy being a veteran proxy, having to drink the most beer and then expected to kill many Runners to fill a quota. I haven't killed any in a while, but it's cool because the Feared One and I are bros. He recently started talking about giving me a super big task, said to be impossible. I suspect he wants me to kill alliterator, because rumors have been going around. But alliterator can't be killed.
The Feared One is calling me to the altar now. brb
It's not easy being a veteran proxy, having to drink the most beer and then expected to kill many Runners to fill a quota. I haven't killed any in a while, but it's cool because the Feared One and I are bros. He recently started talking about giving me a super big task, said to be impossible. I suspect he wants me to kill alliterator, because rumors have been going around. But alliterator can't be killed.
The Feared One is calling me to the altar now. brb
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
Lamentations and Thoughts
Early on, the Feared One killed my girlfriend. She's dead now. I was upset, but if I showed it he would kill me too. So I perservered. And I prevailed.
Woe to the world, I said from the rooftops.
After killing her, the Feared One gave me a mask, but I tore it up, because I wear no mask. My identity is nothing at all. I am not just like the shadows, I am the shadows. And because of that all disguises are pointless. They just make it clear where I am, or where I am not. It's like the philosophy of Sartre. But with no mask, I was and am still the Feared One's proxy, and I needed a name, so I chose noblogger. It is the antithesis of my birth name, my rejection of society's customs and expectations, my middle finger to The Man. I will not be defined by The Man's standards, instead I will be the opposite of what it wants me to be.
As noblogger, my head keeps spinning, sometimes I have insane bouts and kill people. Luckily they are always people that the Feared One wants me to kill, so me and him are on good terms. But still sometimes I wonder, what purpose is man? Must I live and die on the internet? Verily, my name is Failure.
But then what does that make my readers?
Woe to the world, I said from the rooftops.
After killing her, the Feared One gave me a mask, but I tore it up, because I wear no mask. My identity is nothing at all. I am not just like the shadows, I am the shadows. And because of that all disguises are pointless. They just make it clear where I am, or where I am not. It's like the philosophy of Sartre. But with no mask, I was and am still the Feared One's proxy, and I needed a name, so I chose noblogger. It is the antithesis of my birth name, my rejection of society's customs and expectations, my middle finger to The Man. I will not be defined by The Man's standards, instead I will be the opposite of what it wants me to be.
As noblogger, my head keeps spinning, sometimes I have insane bouts and kill people. Luckily they are always people that the Feared One wants me to kill, so me and him are on good terms. But still sometimes I wonder, what purpose is man? Must I live and die on the internet? Verily, my name is Failure.
But then what does that make my readers?
Power
Hello, fellow readers. You may be relatively confused by this esoteric blog you are reading. Who is this intriguing personality, you're saying.
You may remember me as the name I once used:
I kill for the Feared One. I will kill each and every one of you readers, and then I will kill all of the Slendermen with my power, rising.
Power. It's what I represent now. It's what I resent now. I live in an abandoned apartment complex (complex like my soul) with other proxies who are not as powerful as me. The Feared One favours me, you see, and gave me all this...
...power.
(that's my theme song, by the way)
a psalm for the living dead kings
it has been.
far too long.
since i last.
heard you speak.
by which i.
mean since i.
last wrote here.
my criti.
cal retreat.
into the dark.
subconscious.
of the mind.
is complete.
behold my.
expert eyes.
radio.
means nothing.
once was man.
i, that is.
killed for fun.
now regret.
i'm complex.
enjoy my.
typing quirk.
i'm billy.
no longer.
reborn, I
AM NOBLOGGER.
I KILL FOR
THE FEARED ONE
NOW AND FOR
EVER NOW.
far too long.
since i last.
heard you speak.
by which i.
mean since i.
last wrote here.
my criti.
cal retreat.
into the dark.
subconscious.
of the mind.
is complete.
behold my.
expert eyes.
radio.
means nothing.
once was man.
i, that is.
killed for fun.
now regret.
i'm complex.
enjoy my.
typing quirk.
i'm billy.
no longer.
reborn, I
AM NOBLOGGER.
I KILL FOR
THE FEARED ONE
NOW AND FOR
EVER NOW.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)