Mad Moll

Here are my favorite things about being bi:

- Not being straight.

- I used to find out pretty quickly if the person I was dating was an asshole because they’d say something biphobic or decide not to date me pretty fast. I call this pre-screening.  And seriously, be out to the people you are dating right away so you will know who to avoid. Don’t date biphobic people.

- I can understand the diversity of concepts of beauty more intuitively because I am attracted to people of multiple genders. I for one, don’t hold one beauty standard. I hold many. I find a lot of people aesthetically pleasing and that makes the act of looking more fun. 

- I have one more thing in common with Bowie in the 70s. And that’s totally the best entity to have things in common with!

- Kinship with other bi people.

- Having useful sex tips to offer friends of various orientations.

- Kvelllng over all the impressively self aware bi and pan identified young people writing on this site and giving me hope for the future. 

- Because I don’t have a strong identity aligned with going to Pride Parades (was always way more into the Dyke March and Wigstock as my queer public parties) I don’t have to go to the Pride Parade and be grossed out by the corporate commodification of what was once a radical act!  (Note: if Pride Parades are super meaningful to you that’s totally fine! And I know how important it can be especially for people in isolated communities outside of big cities). 

- My existence is a challenge to heterosexism. 

- Laser beam eye power. What, you don’t have it too? 

PS here’s what I wrote for Bi Visibility Day. It’s less upbeat but very meaningful to me. 

Here’s more Bowie

And Frida Kahlo

Terrifying: forthcoming, unnerving, never seems to fully materialize, pitch-black, veiled, formless, bloodcurdling in its subtle obscure way, devouring; it teases and haunts you when you can’t even name it. It’s overall psychological - you strive to make it take shape in your mind while it feeds on suspense, indeterminacy and ignorance.

Horrifying: stark, manifest, blood-soaked in front of your very eyes, sadistic, wild, frenzied, of a shining crimson; it shocks, menaces and assails you to the point of paralysis and dementia. It’s of a more visual, physical nature and brutally unambiguous; it doesn’t depend on anything else - it’s what follows the unveiling of the terrifying.

Stephen King has three different forms of fear (as he sees them) that really capitalise on what @xshayarsha said: 1) The Gross Out: the sight of a severed head tumbling down a flight of stairs, when the lights go out and something green and slimy splatters against your arm –> irrelevant for the terror/horror discussion, but interesting nevertheless. 2) The Terror: when you come home and notice everything you own had been taken away and replaced by an exact substitute, when the lights go out and you feel something behind you, you feel it’s breath against your ear, but when you turn around there’s nothing there. As above: subtle, devouring, psychological. 3) The Horror: the unnatural, spiders the size of bears, the dead waking up and walking around, when the lights go out and something with claws grabs you by the arm. As above: manifest, menacing, visual.

Further than that, even, consider that ‘horror’ transfers similar meaning to the adjective ‘horrific’, but ‘terror’ and ‘terrific’ are seemingly opposed.  It’s because of a semantic change called amelioration—when a word’s meaning is elevated; opposite being ‘perjoration’, which is when a word’s meaning is degraded.

The words “horror,” “horrible,” and “horrific” have their roots in the Indo-European base ghers- / ghrs- (to become stiff), according to the Chambers Dictionary of Etymology. The terms “terror,” “terrible,” and “terrific,” Chambers tells us, are rooted in the Indo-European base ters- / tres- (to shake). Those Indo-European roots gave Latin the verbs horrere (to bristle with fear) and terrere (to fill with fear), which inspired the Old French, Middle French, Anglo-Norman, and Modern French words that gave English such frightening language.

The meanings of all six words reflected their scary or hair-raising roots when they entered English from the 1300s to the 1600s, according to written examples in the Oxford English Dictionary: The dictionary’s earliest citation for “terrific” in this sense is from Milton’s Paradise Lost (1667), which describes the Serpent in Paradise as a subtle beast “with brazen Eyes And hairie Main terrific.” In less than a century, Oxford says, “terrific” took on a weakened sense: “Of great size or intensity; excessive; very severe.” The earliest example of this new usage in the dictionary is from a 1743 translation of Horace’s lyric poetry: “How cou’d … Porphyrion of terrific size … stand against the Warrior-goddess?” It took another century, according to the OED citations, for “terrific” to take on the modern sense of “an enthusiastic term of commendation: amazing, impressive; excellent, exceedingly good, splendid.” The first example of this sense is from an advertisement in the Oct. 21, 1871, issue of The Athenaeum, a journal of science and the arts: “The last lines of the first ballad are simply terrific,—something entirely different to what any English author would dream of, much less put on paper.” (x) 

It’s really interesting to approach the popular culture you consume with this knowledge, esp. the horror genre and gothic literature. 

“Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something.”

Here’s our newest comic, “Ultimate Psycho: Part I,” as seen on Skyd Magazine!

Part I here!

Also all of these locations are definitely haunted and or…occupied