Here, for your edification and instruction, are some more absolutely authentic photographs of ectoplasm. It is powerful stuff, remember. Shade your eyes!
Unfortunately, Madame Boubou did not enclose a snapshot of her engulfment by ectoplasm with her Message From Beyond. As luck would have it, a trawl through the Hooting Yard Archives turned up this picture which enables lucky readers to see … Continue reading
O let us now sing the praises of noted Swiss puppeteer Rolf Swisspupp! Preferably to a free jazz accompaniment, with bongos! Or, on second thoughts, let us not, for when we sing it is a godawful caterwauling that sets the … Continue reading
Just as Jason Bourne has an identity, a supremacy, and an ultimatum, so Petula Clark has files, a project – and a minefield. The Petula Clark minefield was the happy outcome of my determination, with the Petula Clark project, to … Continue reading
Few subjects have received as little attention as the relationship between a janitor and his spirit guide. All janitors have one, though many janitors do not acknowledge its existence, while others, both janitors and observers of janitors, confuse the spirit … Continue reading
The word “Medium” to me suggests a Victorian charlatan in a darkened room, summoning the spirits of the dead and spewing forth ectoplasm. “Medium” is also, I learn, the name of a new(ish?) bit of interwebbery, a repository for prose, … Continue reading
We continue our tenth anniversary celebrations wth a potsage [sic] from the year of Our Lord 2010. In the autumn of that year, I embarked on a series of twenty-six alphabetical entries, and this one is C for Canker Worm, … Continue reading
Hie thee over to The Dabbler where, in my weekly cupboard, you will find a (very brief) history of ectoplasm. Features astonishing pictorial evidence of the truly uncanny nature of this gooey substance!
Hooba Nooba Hoo! Bent Cronje! He forded the Ack and he slew our foes! He lopped off their heads and stuck them on spikes! With his bevelled sword he slew and slew! Now we carry his bones to their resting-place … Continue reading
Here comes the Krummhorn Man. He’s had a palaver. He has to solve acrostics for his mother. She is blind, and so is her dog. The dog’s name is Spinach. Spinach is a good name for a dog. That’s what … Continue reading
See these corks aligned upon the baize. They were placed so for a purpose. Count them. Count the corks and when you are done totting them up write the tally in chalk upon the board. The board is affixed to … Continue reading
I remember the first time I saw the Beatles on television. It was a studio performance of “We Can Work It Out”, which the Wikipedia tells me was filmed on 23 November 1965, so presumably I saw it a few … Continue reading
This being an Olympic year, it is perhaps time to scotch a rumour that has swirled persistently around the world of fictional athletics for decades. You will recall that fictional athlete Bobnit Tivol is alleged to have left a written … Continue reading
On the seventh day of Christmas, Old Halob gave to me Seven mordant herons, Six hideous bat-gods, Ectoplasm! Four dead chaffinches, Three poptarts, Two cardboard pigs, And a viper, a shrew, and a bee.
On the sixth day of Christmas, Old Halob gave to me Six hideous bat-gods, Ectoplasm! Four dead chaffinches, Three poptarts, Two cardboard pigs, And a viper, a shrew, and a bee.