the Great Octopus/Potato War

Octopus Potato War

You won’t have heard about this in school, unless, that is, you went to school in Y’ha-nthlei like some of us. The War of the Roses, the Thirty Year’s War, the Boer WarBoering!

The Great Octopus/Potato War is far from over, althoughNapoleon and Marengo its origins lie in the mist-shrouded vales of distant history. The blog No Sword has unravelled the tangled accounts and written the definitive (so far!) history of these great and bloody battles. It is the opinion of this blogger, as well as the entire staff of Miskatonic University, that great historic events should be understood and explained in terms of art history much more often than they typically are. We can but hope to enrich our knowledge of the Battle of Marengo by analyzing the conformation of Napoleon‘s famous steed in the great portrait, and to reach a level of understanding of the American Revolution through a paintstroke analysis of Washington Crossing the Delaware.

Let us begin by examining the famous picture more closely. [ed note: yes, by all means let us begin thusly!] The octopus soldiers display a confidence that borders on arrogance. One claims to be able to do the work of eight men — clearly a hubristic miscalculation, unless he believes that humans and by extension potatoes can only use one arm at a time.

Nevertheless, the octopus troop is clearly unwilling to go on the offensive. They taunt and spit, but do not attack. This insulting treatment can only have be an attempt to provoke the potato soldiers into an ill-advised attack on the octopus position, and it seems to have worked precisely as intended…

Earlier in 1868 alone, they had already taken heavy losses in the brutal East-West Fart-Off (東西屁ひりくらへ — left, right) even as they provided logistical support for another, unrelated Fart Battle (屁合戦兵粮 — left, right) elsewhere…

This gem of military art history appreciation (truly, it’s as if Toynbee himself had fathered a love child with Sister Wendy!) comes our way via Japanprobe.

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when sturgeons attack!

Landsharks in New Jersey. Movie stars mauled by legions of Australian jellyfish. Desert Sharks cruising the Outback. Great leapin’ sturgeon attacks! Who could be behind it all?

Putin Sturgeon

I understand politicans kissing babies; although babies don’t vote, their parents do. One has to wonder, however, if either Putin has now extended suffrage to Deep Ones or Chernobyl was really a helluva lot worse than they told us: can’t wait to get a gander at the proud parents of this one!

Cthulhu ’08, baby!

Cthulhu '08

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the freakiest story I’m too tired to post

Manta Ray

Seriously weird. Seriously, seriously freaky. Probably fake. “The one that got away” takes on new meaning in this tale of lost loves at sea

Via (where else would you expect?) the Guardian’s Political Diary.

“Almost everybody in the fishing business has had sex with a manta at some point,” Makeburu asserts.

What!!! A manta??? You mean one of those enormous, intimidating winged things with a stinger on their tail that looks like an aquatic Batman?

Yep. After all, fisherman out on ships spend a loooonggg time at sea without ever encountering a woman, and, well, let’s face it, they can get pretty horny. No, dammit, let’s make that incredibly horny. Even desperate enough to do it with a manta. Right?

“Nah,” shrugs Makeburu. “Coastal fishermen poke them too.”

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I was bitten by a poisonous spider

Shelob

and it died.

Think about that the next time you try to get in my face about … anything at all.

I’m just saying.

PS: so there are black widow spiders here in Vancouver. You learn something new every day, eh?

Give me my footie pjs, put on my cat; I have
Immortal longings in me: now no more
The juice of the Okanagan‘s grape shall moist this lip:
Yare, yare, good CG; quick. Methinks I hear
Viggo call; I see him rouse himself
To praise my noble act; I hear him mock
The luck of spammers, which the gods give men
To excuse their after wrath: baby, I come:
Now to that name my courage prove my title!
I am tentacles and marabou; my other elements
I give to baser life. So; have you done?
Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips.
Farewell, kind CG; blog readers, long farewell.

What, I’m still here? Damn, now what am I gonna do with this soliloquy? I h8 anticlimax!

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Family Cthulhu

As the artist says, “the only time you’ll ever laugh at this comic.”

 

Family Cthulhu

Well, there are maybe one or two other cases…

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