horror whore

4th of July family album, 1950s-70s. The good ol’ days, a reminder of how things USED to be. Kids these days will never know the simple joy of summoning meat demons from the void dimensions to grill on an open fire. Back then we weren’t “taking selfies,” we were building bone golems of ourselves to bring to brief unholy life so we could ignite them into flames.

We didn’t need “apps” to have fun, we were outside celebrating America by self-immolating and roaming the streets smoldering with hellfire. I can still smell the burning skin! And we didn’t even get hurt, because we were just tougher back then; and also conducted human sacrifices that granted us protection, but you’d get “cancelled” for that these days.

No one complained if you wanted to fill the lake with the blood of cursed swine to bring it to a boil, and we weren’t shy about skinny dipping in it, heck we’d strip down to our bones as we gnawed on each others’ melting flesh - a little snack before heading home for barbecued ribs cracked right off the crispy meat demons.

As night fell we’d sing songs that might not be “politically correct” today just because they were the six profane recitations of Zasorael which brought forth the Araknoloids, but that’s just how things were back then: Men were men, women were women, and the Araknaloids were giant bloodthirsty hellspiders who lit up the sky with ectoplasmic glory when we fed them explosives. And as their flaming bones rained down upon the sky, burning our houses and cars and grandma, we weren’t afraid to say GOD BLESS AMERICA.

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NOTE: This is a work of fiction created by me. This alternate reality horror story is part of my NightmAIres narrative art series (visit that link for a lot more). NightmAIres are windows into other worlds and interconnected alternate histories, conceived/written by me and visualized with synthography and Photoshop.

Before Barbenheimer, there was “Apocalypse in Pink,” the August 1983 theme of fashion/culture magazine SPECTAGORIA. The issue’s controversial imagery of Barbie-esque models attempting to stay gorgeous and glamorous amidst nuclear annihilation sought to, in the words of editor/photographer Sera Clairmont, “revel in the morbid absurdity of the new American condition,” an “anxiety vibrating underneath all our plastic smiles.”

“It’s The Hot Pink Cold War,” Clairmont wrote in her introduction. “It’s ‘Material Girl’ on the radio and ‘WarGames’ at the drive-in. It’s ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ interrupted by the emergency broadcast signal. We’re told to look sexy, dress fashionable, make money, and spend money, but be sure we’re just the right amount of terrified about the bomb. Get that Malibu dream home, keep working on that perfect body, sip cocktails by the pool in your little pink bikini and watching the stocks go up — but STAY VIGILANT! and for God’s sake vote Republican, because that dream home could melt into a pink plastic inferno at any given moment. Just don’t stop smiling as the blast liquefies your skin into bubbling ooze like a Barbie doll in a microwave - it’s bad for the economy.”

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NOTE: This is a work of fiction created by me. This alternate reality horror story is part of my NightmAIres narrative art series (visit that link for a lot more). NightmAIres are windows into other worlds and interconnected alternate histories, conceived/written by me and visualized with synthography and Photoshop.