A change of pace from catastrophic fiction to catastrophic Halloween costumes.
Yog-Sothoth Costume and other Costumes Heralding My Doom
I’ve often undertaken an ambitious fiction project with multiple themes and layers of meaning, the next Moby Dick, that instead ends up being the next unfinished, unpublished Atlas Shrugged. Likewise, I had several costume misadventures this year.
- First, inspired by the fluke man of X-Files fame, I thought I would be an anchovy man. Canned anchovies do look a bit like leeches. I had stapled anchovies over three quarters of my naked body when I ran out of anchovies. Fortunately, I had a staple remover available, but what a waste of perfectly good anchovies.
- My next attempt was to dress up as Yog-Sothoth, but since ole Yog lives in another dimension incomprehensible to people, I had a lot of difficulty putting a costume together. I ended up with an infinite mobius loop that nearly drove me insane.
- My attempt at a Yog-Sothoth costume inspired me to be a crazy lunatic. I gave up after an hour when I couldn’t figure out how to get into the straight-jacket.
- Of course, I had to take a stab at a zombie costume. I thought I would settle the debate between running zombies and walking zombies by dressing as a skipping zombie. I’m pretty out of shape, so I didn’t have the stamina to keep up sustained skipping-based locomotion.
- Reflection of a mirror in a mirror. Didn’t have a magnifying glass suitable to render the 9 millionth reflection in a reflection.
- Thought I might try myself from one of the alternate universes where I am a well-known, highly successful author, but I realized that to pull that off I’d actually need a published body of work.
- Pasted the letter K on my chest to represent Derrida’s Text without Context, which resulted in the disintegration of my metaphysical presence