In Kweeny's Gory Kingdom The Haters Gonna Hate

Because they are everywhere. And there is nothing that gets my blood boiling more than people who feel entitled to spread their hate, forcing it down our throats because it suits them. They just assume we want, no NEED their opinions. I can froth at the mouth pretty effectively when someone decides for me what is right for me, or when they impose their opinion on me with prejudice and stupidity. 

*inhales deeply* And now that I got my words back and am only slightly annoyed instead of pissed-the-fuck-off, I can write an effective rant. And I think it's time for a little venom. Especially since this time, it was my scaly baby snake that was the target of hate. I knew it was bound to happen. I don't think said person who inspired my wrath knew who they were messing with though. 

But first, let's look at a couple adorable pictures of the victim in question:

Baby Geoffrey hanging in his skull.

Baby Geoffrey in Mom's snuggie.

Baby Geoffrey hanging out on my arm.

He's as cute as a mother-fucking button. Just look at him! His head is the size of my finger nail! This little guy is still getting used to us, and is a bit skittish around people. I mean we are bigger than him, and when they are this small, snakes are prey. Could something so small, so fragile, so terrified really hurt you?

The answer is no. 

But if he was a furry critter of some sort (Which make me horribly ill if you didn't know already) there would be less bashing and more "D'awww! So gosh darn cute OMG." all over my FB page. Lucky for me he has a lot of fans, which makes me feel good. People love seeing pics of him, even the one I posted of him feeding...

But he's a snake.

And snakes have haters.

What got me all riled up to post this wasn't the hating on snakes. People are people. They are scared of animals like snakes, and usually it's for good reason. There is a threat that is built up that snakes can kill you and yada yada. And some really can! Here's a picture of my favourite deadly snake, The King Cobra:

This beauty will mess up your day.

 There are deadly species of snakes all over the world. Just like there are deadly species of cats. Think a Lion wont eat your dumb ass if you go trying to pet it in the wild? Go and try. I'll laugh and hold my camera to take pictures.

But this little critter IS A FUCKING CORNSNAKE. The most he can do is nip at you a bit with his dinky little fangs. He's a predator, but so are cats when left to their own devices. Cats eat meat too. But they are furry and look harmless and all the stupid excuses people use to love them. Snakes are NOT. They don't do tricks. They don't need constant care. They are independent, scaly, etc. And most of all "OMFG THEY ARE SCARY" so it's okay to go onto someone's personal page and bash snakes, right?

*rolls eyes* 

Fear makes people stupid. Snakes are not the only victims of this. Lovers of the horror genre get this rap too. I have been bashed on my entire life for being brave and stubborn enough to live how I choose. I don't conform to a mold. I dye my hair funny colors. I have tattoos. I'm gothy and weird. I love horror, obsessively. I find books, video games and movies comforting. I like to write stories. I run a silly blog for fun and don't expect fame or fortune from it. I seldom do things to make other people happy, and the only time I do put myself out for others is if it doesn't compromise who I am. I can be giving without being a tool. So yes, I may be a little nerd-raging over the recent insult my snake got just because he exists, but I KNOW what that feels like. Intimately. I know what it means to be bullied by the world for existing. This to me, while only a mild form (The snake has no idea she said anything nor would he care. I love that about him) was crossing a line. I don't go onto personal pages of my FB friends when they post pics of their animals and scrawl, "I hate cats. They are scary." and walk away like it's nothing. I don't like cats. I just don't. At least my snake doesn't hork up fur balls for me to find in my bed! 

I'm fine with people having their own opinions and posting them in their own blogs, FB pages, etc. It's your playground. Just because their is a comment feature, doesn't give you the right to spread hate in someone else's playground. The internet wasn't invented for you to be a douchenozzle. Lots of people seem to think it was, but you're WRONG. Don't like my snake...don't look at him. I'm not going to change my world to make you comfy. My Gory Kingdom is my home. Remember that.

I will however have to be responsible for my own actions. But I am not responsible for your comfort. If I make you uncomfortable, maybe I'm not meant for you. A Kweeny is a special kind of creature who needs to be handled with care. Just like little Geoffrey.

Kweeny's Bear Reviews Alice: The Madness Returns

Hey guys! I bring you the long awaited Part Deux of my husband's Alice Games Reviews. If you missed part one, just follow the link. Enjoy!

GHOST PEPPER BEAR REVIEWS THE ALICE GAMES

PART 2

*drops a dead camper off and politely dabs his blood stained muzzle with a red handkerchief*

Ahem, I do apologize for the delay in this. It seems I am a terrible procrastinator and needed a bit of... prodding... to get me out of my cave.

*nudges the camper's stick back under the gory mess*

Anyways, the last time we spoke oh gentle reader, was when I went over what is most correctly a horror prequel for our current topic of discussion. We spoke then of American McGee's Alice. Today we speak of the more truly terrifying of the two, Alice: The Madness Returns. A more apt appellation I could not aspire to ascribe to this absolutely artful portrayal of atrocity.

Regardless, where to begin? I suppose at the end is the best place to start. When we last left our loopy lady, she had recovered something very precious, her own agency in the world. The problem is she bought it at the price of her memory, leaving her able to act, but adrift without the anchor of a past. Now she seeks to build bridges, and better herself through the act of consciously crushing her subconscious mind. A damnable repression ripping apart her internal reality, to accept that of the mundane. A terrible choice which cannot last for very long.

But this is a discussion of how horror can live in games. We talked of the bare bones of creepy with our previous discussion. Now we lay the meat on the skeleton.

*picks a splinter of bone, marrow still dribbling down and picks a piece of person from his toothy grin*

Alice: The Madness Returns tells the tale in layers, peeling back bit by bit to get to the rotten ghastly core. This is its genius. To start simple and straightforward, then through learning, the player begins unblinding oneself and the more nuanced and grim aspects of the tale becomes apparent. The tale is dark dear reader, of that you can be assured. Betrayal, perhaps the most profound betrayal one can commit: of the strong preying up on the weak. I shan't ruin the whole of the story, for like most truly delicious tales of the depths of fear, not knowing makes the understanding more potent in the end.

The whole game is a puzzle box shaken end over end and only by playing can you turn the pieces over, place the corners, and watch the whole horrifying picture emerge. Yet the genius is that some of the pieces are missing, and while you can fill them in with your mind, the certainty is gone, and that uneasy feeling will never leave. In the end our heroine is broken, yet unbowed, standing tall, though tilted curiously to the left, if you take my meaning.

All too often the horror in games its superficial at best. Zombies, monsters, and the thing you cannot kill. Body horror can only go so far, as anyone who has played Left 4 Dead can tell you. Eventually, no matter how gruesome, a thing is just a thing, no matter what it may have once been. Alice mines deeper things, real things, real horror, and grabs hold of that piece of your mind that rests uncomfortably between sleep and waking.

Are you sane? If you said yes, how do you know? If you're not, then you've examined the issue and no matter how battered your brain, you're ahead of those lost in their madness. This is what ultimately Alice must confront. She must deal with reality, but cannot without the tools she learned in a place unreal, and it is through the use of lies she finds the truth. A truth with which she then acts, and it allows her to blend reality and fiction together. A state the user, if self aware, knows they live in themselves.

There are disturbing images, creepy if you will. But these deeper questions, those are what truly haunt. And on subsequent play, you see the clues were there all along. It was ignorance, willful or not, that would not let her see.

I may have rambled here, and I have a dinner awaiting me. But if you enjoy a horrific theater of the mind, and gaming, I recommend this one. Not for the gameplay, which is decent if tedious at times, but for the underlying uncomfortable questions this experience poses. That dear reader is where your Kween's Bear love of horror comes from.

Ta Ta for now.

*bends down to have a bite*

Kweeny is 31 Years Young!

"MAY THE WORLD BURN IN A GLORIOUS ARRAY OF SWORD-SPLODING SNAKE PIT OF DOOMSDAY AWESOME! MADNESS, YOU SAY? THIS. IS. QUEENIE DAY!" My Friend Faye Estrella, posting on my Facebook page. 

Yes you read that right. It's my birthday today! Kweeny Todd's physical flesh is 31, but my spirit is eternal and possessed by Sweeney Todd. But anyhow...

Not my actual birthday cake, but a damn cool one!

I've already had a pretty damn cool birthday, starting with a wicked party I had on Sat. I got some amazing gifts, but one of the best gifts I got is this little guy here...

He's my new baby! I named him Geoffrey because I wanted to give him a butlers name. It sounded appropriate. A Queen should have a cosmic butler, and a magician should have a familiar. I decided to have it all in one pet. (Alfred was also a name I considered.) He's so adorable! He's already started shedding, and he's so small! He's a corn snake and will get bigger, but he's not going to be as big as a boa. I love when he hangs out in his skull:

Look at those pretty scales...

I'm already turning into a crazy snake lady. I won't lie. I am flooding my personal FB page with pics of him, and started spreading the pictures to my Kweeny Todd fanpage. 

It really means a lot to me my friends got me this little guy. It's a really thoughtful gift, considering I've already been contemplating getting one in the past. I just hadn't committed to anything, and I am glad. I think it's wonderful my friends love me so much they did this for me. 

I got some other really cool stuff too, like a Graverobber necklace (Repo! The Genetic Opera is my favourite horror musical) A Sweeney Todd poster (second favourite horror musical), a book on Necromancy, a Nightmare Before Christmas snuggie, a cute little dragon statue, booze, a chocolate zombie heart, Living Dead Dolls art and stickers, a wonderful massage, and of course the snake and snake care stuff. 

Yeah, I am spoiled. I know. *beams*

So I wake up to my actual birthday morning and feel blessed. Thanks to everyone who's made this an awesome birthday to remember, and thank you readers for supporting this little blog.

I will leave you with a snippet of one of the many things we watched at my horror slumber party:

HAPPY FRIDAY THE 13TH!

Yay it's finally Jenny Krueger's Blogfest! You know how much I love a blogfest!

Ah Friday the 13th. A unofficial-official day in honor of one of the greatest slasher villains of all time Jason Voorhees. It was franchises like Friday the 13th that made the slasher genre great. Jason may not be the first killer on the list of my top favourites, but he's up there for sure. And I will never forget my first time with Jason.

I've always been a fan of the original Friday the 13th. The movie had a formulaic plot, right up until the end when the ending slapped the audience with a twist. And what a twist it was! Just crazy Mama Voorhees trying to get revenge for her poorly treated son. Who couldn't sympathize with that?

I've never liked camping as a youngen. Especially when I am already sun burnt, bitten by bugs of all sizes, and snooty teen-aged pimple farms are picking on me because I'm different. Yeah, I'm glad Jason came back from the dead once his mom was killed. He's the vengeance of Camp Justice.

And one thing I love about the series is that Jason made machete's cool again! Machete's are wicked weapons that do tons of damage. I wrote a post about them a while back here. He'd lumber along with that hockey mask on to cover his deformed, undead face, and in his hand at his side would be the machete, dripping with gore from his last kill. And you know he's just not gonna stay dead. I mean, even Freddy Krueger tried to kill him, and he just came back. If Jason symbolizes anything, it's a dark, unrelenting force that cannot be reasoned with, and cannot even be communicated with! I've never seen him do more than a head tilt. Not one word escapes his soggy lips. And that's probably for the best really. In life he wasn't a good communicator either. He may not be fast. He may not be smart. But he wont stop. EVER. And he wont fucking stay dead.

So if there is anything you need to know about the big lug it's this:

I'm just gonna do what I always do, watch some horror, play some board games with friends and have a good old time. Gonna eat the crap out of some cupcakes too. Because that's the best way to celebrate don't you think? It keeps me out of trouble that's for sure. Not really in the mood for a machete in my face.

So what's your favourite Jason moments?

Happy April Ghouls Day!

I bring you guys a "gift." It might actually be more of a practical joke, considering how dry he tends to write sometimes.  His humor is pretty much like powdered milk. But at least you don't have to live with him.

Today in honor of April Ghouls Day and a game I love to pieces, My Husband Bear writes you a review (which will come in two parts) of American McGee's Alice games. I thought since he was the one who played them through for me (Because the controls make me rage quit faster than Speedy Gonzalez on meth. For real. I tried several times to play them.The games are kinda borked that way, which is a shame, considering how awesome the story is.)

Are you ready? Sriracha Bear Incoming...

For more awesome artwork check out http://theoatmeal.com/

Ghost Pepper Bear Reviews The Alice Games 

So hello readers of the Macabre, I am Kweeny's aforementioned bear. Yes, I'm a bear. You have no idea how difficult it is to type with these claws, but for her, my murderously dual-souled love, I'll do it. Recently at her behest, as I somehow get suckered into being her gaming bear, (NO DANCING), I played American McGee's Alice and Alice: Madness Returns for her. Today I will be discussing the first title in the series.

First, I will say to you dear reader, what I will not be talking about. No gameplay gripes shall pass my muzzle. I will speak on how the art is used as a tool for other things in the games, but about graphic fidelity I shall utter not a further word. The same goes for how these games play. Where the mechanics support or detract from the horrific themes I shall speak on, but as to how the first game's platforming is like slipping on a hot steaming turd covered floor while wearing banana peel slippers, I shall say no more.

While I first started playing these games as straight up games, diversions to entertain and challenge, a strange thing happened. I realized I was playing that most rare of genres, the horror game. The further I went in each game the more horrific it became, and that's saying something when your game starts with such personal tragedy. The stage is set when we take Alice (a girl of no more than nine) and turn her Wonderland upside down with a fire that consumes her home, her family, and even as she lay in the asylum bed, her sanity.

She is comatose looking up at nothing, seeing nothing, and feeling nothing. She has essentially become a hollow shell clutching a hand stitched rabbit loosely. Then a stirring happens, and the psychological torment one can put themselves through begins to shine. She pulls the rabbit in close, and it begins to speak, rapidly, urging her to save Wonderland. And through this save herself.

Alice is a game that has more than the trappings of horror. We all know the type. Sure the recent Resident Evil games have zombies, but do you ever truly feel despair, loss, or revulsion any more? Alice has all these things in spades, well let's say hearts if you prefer. It's worth talking about them individually, and how the game builds these horror themes up and into the player's mind.

First up is despair. From the start the denizens of Wonderland are shackled, enslaved and working for a faceless, unseen Queen of Hearts. The bright colors of our Wonderland are dulled browns, dingy greys, and radioactive greens. Her very imagination is polluted and forced to serve others. The setting does wonders to show how enmeshed in loss Alice is without hamfisting it. At one point she can only flow down a river of her own tears to move forward, and it's plainly shown, but not hammered down your throat so hard you have to gag it back up.

Quickly you become attached to your companions. Seeking mental solace in the familiarity of friends to replace the family that is gone. Every step forward is greeted with new loss though, as your guides, friends, and comrades are killed. I found myself going out of my way to help save the minor characters I could, not out of any in game benefit, but because after losing the people who are so important. I was latching onto literal voiceless pawns to bulwark against the pain. If that doesn't speak to loss I don't know what does.

Then there is revulsion. This doesn't come in immediately, and is only built upon once you are shaken through the tragic senselessness of so many deaths. Slowly things become more and more off, and the fantastic Wonderland takes on more sinister tones. Children laughing madly, stupidly, as they're set up like Alex from A Clockwork Orange, clamped down and eyes opened up. This intensifies until you're going through Alice's own hellish version of the asylum, and eventually her very own hell with lava, brimstone and imps included. Finally there is the Queen's chambers: a cthonic chamber of pulsing red tendrils, bone and flowing pools of what is obviously blood. The score here does great duty with a sound that is just ever so slightly discordant, like a child's xylophone set that is somehow out of tune.

The most horrific part of this game is that it throughout it hints that all Alice deals with is a denial of the truth, an artful self-delusion. This turns out to be the truth, the hard painful, wicked and nasty truth. In the end you can only delude yourself with childlike wonder for so long. Eventually the pain must out, and that dear readers is where the next game of the series begins...