Crazy talk 1.

Welcome to ramblings of madness, where I put someone’s else maniacal insane gibberish here to all for see. Our first contestant, piecewise, was pulled off here. This pearl of wisdom used with permission, of course.

Dear sir, ma’am, or highly trained message answering gerbil,

I am writing in regard to your Placebo brand belt-buckle flavored licorice laxatives and my intense dissatisfaction with their performance. I purchased a pallet of this product from a local store by the name of “Big Greasy Bill’s Quality Laxative Emporium” and immediately swallowed the recommended dose, which was listed as “ ‘bout a fistful” on the package. I turned to my wife, only to find that she had been transmuted into a hovering swordfish wearing a fright wig. Though mildly perturbed about my spouse’s sudden transformation, I remained calm and began to read through the symptoms listed on the laxative box. I was in the middle of reading the sentence that began thusly: “ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn; woe be upon ye poor and pitiful,” when the letters began to pry themselves from the package and walk off in a huff. I can only guess that they were unhappy about being read.

The sales manager, apparently sensing my distress, strode over on his forty-six spider legs and asked what was the matter; at least I assume that was what he asked because his voice actually came out as something more resembling a pipe organ falling down a flight of stairs then intelligible words. It was during this cacophony that the ceiling began to melt and subsequently reform into suspended replicas of former Vice President Cheney’s head. As a flock of these Vice Presidential apparitions fluttered by,  I suggested to my wife-turned-swordfish that we should go and, grasping her fin, led her toward the parking lot. Apart from the inherent difficulty of navigating through the talking eggplants which littered the parking area, we made it to the car without a hitch and immediately sank into the ground. I cannot say exactly where or how we surfaced, but my next memory is that of regaining consciousness, naked, in a field. Ever since these series of events, I have suffered from a variety of symptoms including, but not limited to: headache, backache, liver spots, sepsis, internal bleeding, implosive diarrhea, exoskeleton growth, alien hand syndrome, spontaneous combustion, death, reincarnation, exploding head syndrome and sudden attacks of my skin falling off. My complaint, however, is regarding the taste of these laxatives or, should I say, the lack thereof. When I bought this product, its name assured me that it would taste decisively of belt buckles, but this is not what I found to be true. Rather than the delicious flavor of stainless steel coated in zinc, I was subjected to a taste not unlike almond paste and gasoline. While it’s not to say that I dislike the taste of gasoline -far from it- I can not sit idly by and allow the wretched taste of almond paste to go unaccounted for.

I believe that, in light of this complaint, I am entitled to some sort of compensation for my suffering and mild annoyance. As reparation, I would like all of the following: Full reimbursement, a new car to replace the one that somehow ended up wrapped around a telephone pole, an Indonesian goat milkmaid, a pair of shoes made of Winston Churchill’s nose hair, a Canadian flag stained with the blood of my enemies, a sack of blind puppies, a kangaroo trained in Brazilian jujitsu, a snowplow, Deep Blue, all the tea in China, your trousers, and the Philosopher’s Stone. I would like these delivered by a specially trained emu sometime in the next 12 seconds.

This is more about surreral absurd humour than pure madness, but ah well. As title suggest, there will be more Crazy Talks. Next one can be expected somewhere before heat death of this universe.

Look, end of world really is close! We already have Crazy Talk 2.

My Little Pony: Friendship is Overrated

Okay, you say. I had excuse with Eversion, but I cannot possibly explain, why children show about cute ponies and magical friendship is featured here. You scream WTF, call BS, shenanigans, and all of that.

And you are right… except I am not reviewing My Little Pony here. I am reviewing hilarious (and sometimes disturbing) results of having significant unintended demographic as fandom of show (that in itself is just overly long ad for their toys to sell, but you all should know it already, right?).

You see, for reasons known only for Elder Gods, MLP: FiM is popular among teens and middle-aged males. Who would thought? To make it more terryfying, this movement of bronies originated from infamous 4chan boards. Is it their new morality pet, aside of Yotsuba? Rebound from usual pictures and topics featured on these boards? Or maybe some dark, twisted plot from usual suspects in shadows? Who knows.

Anyway, this soon spiralled out of control (not that it was ever in any control…) and took Internet in storm, as with any thing that is not short fad. Bronies exists to today and feel fine, generating new content in any possible way, as it customary on Internet for anything. Of course, there is usual riff-raff, low quality crap, in-universe things, simply extending canon (or screwing it up) etc – like everywhere else. But there are interesting, less typical creations. Some of it is obvious in hindsight, other… not so.

Every kind of tale, music and story exists. Science Fiction? Romance? Horror? Noir? Adventure? Slice of life? Comedy? War? Name it, bronies have it (one clear exception seem to be explicit pornography). There are curiosities. For example, for some reason Vietnam pops up a lot in war stories and one would think “human in Equestria” theme to be more common than it is.

Lets talk about crossovers. Not any crossovers (Sonic ponies receive cold welcome), but crossovers based on contrast. What better universe is for cute ponies than very popular Fallout or dark Warhammer 40000? Generally grimdark stories are surprisingly common.

One certain elephant in a room was left at end, but for anyone in know it is obvious, what I omitted until now. Yes, I am talking about one of the most infamous fanfictions (for a moment, anyway) on Net – Pinkie Pies’ Cupcakes. It was finest trollfic/torture porn in existence, hilariously eviscecrated by Protectors. Enjoy (if you can).

Bonus content

Feel your sanity drop.

The SCP Foundation.

Secure. Contain. Protect.

SCP Foundation is powerful organization that finds, hide, research and protect world from Bad Things. Anomalous, defying known laws of science, scary and mysterious objects, both living and dead (and those that either do not apply or blur line). Foundation is very dedicated to its task and will protect Earth by any means neccessary, up to and including genocide (only proposed, but still).

Objects themself are very varied.  Humans, in particular cursed. Animal. Especially if it looks harmless. Stuffed toy. Place. Equipment. Furniture. Machine. Abstract concept. Nonsensical absurd in small dose. Something that can and will destroy world, or potentially entire universe. Objects, in fact, can be literally anything. Including those that cleverly mixes various human fears in just right proportions. Oh, and one that tackles old “how far you will go to save world?” ethical problem.

There are also… untypical SCPs. Self-replicating is just most obvious. Take those that pose infohazard. Cognitohazard. Manipulates probability. Something that is NOT SCP at all. That messes even with SCP description itself. And meta. Oh, so much meta.

SCP Foundation Overseers are certainly interesting bunch. They do not believe in “it cannot be contained”. Certain very, very popular overgrown lizard? Over and over and over, again and again… Incredibly creepy something? Just provide it toys to have fun with and pray it don’t leave somewhere else – contaiment just slow it down. God? Well, we can at least try!

One of the most lovely things about SCP is their danger assesement system. Safe, Euclid, Keter. Pretty straightforward, right? Except not. According to SCP, atomic bomb is Safe. Casually sociopathic cartoon clown that teach children to be little murderous cannibals is Safe. Best part? It is justified! See, danger assement system is based more on “how easily it can be contained“, less on “how many people it can maim/convert/kill directly or indirectly”. Of course, something uncontainable that is harmless still get Safe. On the other hand, something that can cause literal end of the world will be classified Keter even if contamination procedure is very easy. Stakes are just too high.

Unfortunately, not all of Foundation lore and stories are so good. Some certain things seriously hurts suspension of disbelief or shows SCP Foundation in light that not necessairly was intended.

For example, basic competence. What is with so many breaches, is Foundation that incompetent? Not that this matter – in Foundation universe you cannot fart without hitting some anomalous object and universe should ended already zilion times due to bothed contaiment of some Keter class object or, more probably, activation of previously unknown Keter. Remember, you have to be successful all times, but these things have to be successful only once.  But I can forgive this, after all authors have to write about something.

I doubt anyone wanted Foundation to seem like bunch of mad Mengeles running around in North Korea concentration camps. Monthly mass execution termination of Jews D subjects? Really? I mean, really? While it is understandable that little details like morality or value of human life are just thrown away when faced with dangers to our Reality, this practice just serve no purpose and is very jarring.

These problems prevented me to fully enjoy SCPs, tales and other related things. Still it is good read and certain SCPs are geniuely unsettling, scary and terryfying. Like TvTropes, you will find yourself reading SCPs one after another, with experiments, logs and tales. If you have a lot of time to waste, go.


Supposedly, the more you know, the less you fear.  But there is knowledge that incerases your fear – or at least it should, if you know what is good for you. No, you do not need Cthulhu Mythos to have this effect.

Want example?

Chalk. Just your usual chalk, holded in fingers by your teacher.

He draws – leave traces on blackboard – with delicate, crushed mix of white bones. Deaths of countless small marine organisms serve to teach children about boring, irrevelant crap.