spring forward

Every spring, the clocks jump ahead one hour. Every year, we pretend not to notice Alex sneaking out of town in the middle of the night, pockets bulging with time.

We notice, Alex. But we’re optimistic that you’re going to change. We don’t care what you’re doing with the time. Please come home.

The Signal: EP143

The Signal: EP143 – Exactly 45 minutes of music hand-carved from globally sourced sounds, professional grade but suitable for home and your family.

This time out, we’ve got bleepy R&B sounds, dub-folk from Colombia, folk-pop from the States, a collaboration between German & Chinese producers, disco from Egypt, sublow from Minnesota and even more!

Download by clicking on the link (or image) above. The file is available only for a limited time. If you’re interested in the tracklist, it’s in the mp3 itself, in the id3 tags. Or, if you sign up to be a member of our mailing list, The Tuned In, you’ll be among the first on the planet to know when a new mix is posted, and you’ll get a permanent archive link and the entire playlist, delivered to your inbox.

Or, if you like Spotify, I put every track into a playlist. First time doing that ever.

inventory

INVENTORY
oat bars (4)
oat bar (cursed)
dagger
scroll (not researched)
The Necklace of Barghavorn’t (2)
water buddy
wet things (8)
map
compass
hopes and dreams of your besieged village (20)
inventory list
bug armor
bug dagger
tomatoes (3)
I.O.U. to Bug Store for tomatoes
second notice from Bug Store
final notice from Bug Store
debt collection letter from debt bug
rope
water canteen

cyberpunk

Lefty a few doors down said cyberpunk was gonna be the next big thing in the village, so we went over to his place and all he’d done was adhere a series of blinking lights to that large radish what won 1st place at Gemma’s Gardening Annual competition on account of this radish’s peerless heft and overall contour, aligning as it did with certain commonly held ideals of vegetable beauty.

Lights sure did blink for a while there and Lefty said capitalism was to blame, so that gave us all somethin’ to think about all right.

lost time incident 72 – why do I number these things?

lost time incident 72

lost time incident 72
Howdy howdy howdy. Just as soon as I get these boots & spurs off, we can get this newsletter started. Just as soon as I’ve removed my 10 gallon hat and this silver star that says that I’m the closest thing this town has to “the law”, we can get this newsletter started. Okay, hold on, as soon as I take off this vest that has the little trailing leather things hanging off it, as well as these turquoise charms, we can get started. I just need to put down my six-shooter, and my rifle, and my knife, and my land grant papers, and my horse. Just… just putting them right down here. Where I can find them later. When we’re all done with this newsletter.

Okay. I think I’m all—

No, damn it, wait, I have to put down this blue sky that arcs from horizon to horizon, and all these miles of dirt, and these herds of cows, and that lazy river and then that’s it. Then I’m ready.

I’m just… I’m just going to hold on to this bighorn sheep. Just this one sheep. Okay, let’s do this. Here come more words.


THREE ESSENTIAL OILS YOUR BODY NEEDS THIS SEASON
The Oil of Nabgaranth – Drawn from the depths beneath the Lost City of Xxn, this oil coats your skin in a silky layer of luxuriance. As a kicky extra, it’ll also give you the perfect beach body once the tentacles finish growing in and stop aching! Surf’s up!

Product 18 – Sorry, we signed a non-disclosure agreement, but our lawyers have informed us that we must say, in this public forum, that this oil is essential.

S-oil – We mean “soil.” For agriculture. Just wanted to end the list with a fun little joke. But seriously, if we lose our topsoil, we’ve lost everything. You can’t eat sand.

 


Petition to Start Every Day by Sticking Arms Straight Up From Bed and Intoning “I…. RETURN!”

__________________________
[SIGN HERE]

[Share with Friends – Click Here(link removed by AccuLinx Security)]

 


a poster

YOU ARE INVITED
to a musical
JAMBOREE!
NO COVER CHARGE
— bring your beautiful bones —
**free calcium chews with every admission but you have to eat them immediately**
MAIN STAGE
Ogres But Not the Kind That Eat Bones
SECOND STAGE
Slurptime and The Marrow Spiders

 


secrets revealed
So much of magic is just done with staples. Not a lot of people know that.

Rabbit in a hat? It’s pinned in there with animal-friendly staples.

Crystal ball? Full of staples. You can hear ’em if you slosh the ball around.

Is this your card? Nope. It’s just a pile of loose staples.

Every star and moon on my robes is stapled on.

The magic was inside you all along and that’s too bad, because now the magic is stuck there. You shouldn’t be eating staples.

 


ending theme song
Not that you asked, but progress is still being made on the e-book project that’s going to consist of the best  micro-fiction I’ve produced over the last year or so. I’ve got pieces picked out, sorted, labeled by theme. Now all that’s left is everything else, and then I’ll be done.

My social media fasting continues. In order to fuel progress on this e-book’s creation, I’ve sworn off the two big time-suck sites I was addicted to and now my social media belt can be tightened a few loops. And all this is costing me is the ability to stay in touch with the few friends I’ve managed to keep as an introverted adult, further isolating myself in service of a writing project whose target audience is unknown, but likely would have included some of these friends if they knew it existed, which they won’t if I don’t go back.

Someday I’ll go back.

Not today, though. Too much writing still to do.

Type-ity type-ity.

—Michael Van Vleet


Hey! Did you enjoy reading this? But did you find yourself thinking “Dang, if only this sort of thing were delivered directly into my inbox so I didn’t have to spend time on a website as if it were still the 90s or something!”?

You’re in luck! You can subscribe to the LOST TIME INCIDENT newsletter and finally class up your inbox. 

i don’t know what this is, i am a vessel for dumb ideas

IMPACT TEXT: get you a cauldron that can do both

[image 1 – a cauldron bubbling with unknown contents]

[image 2 – the same cauldron as image 1, shot from a different angle, bubbling with unknown contents]


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THREE ESSENTIAL OILS YOUR BODY NEEDS THIS SEASON

The Oil of Nabgaranth – Drawn from the depths beneath the Lost City of Xxn, this oil coats your skin in a silky layer of luxuriance. As a kicky extra, it’ll also give you the perfect beach body once the tentacles finish growing in and stop aching! Surf’s up!

Product 18 – Sorry, we signed a non-disclosure agreement, but our lawyers have informed us that we must say, in this public forum, that this oil is essential.

S-oil – We mean “soil.” For agriculture. Just wanted to end the list with a fun little joke. But seriously, if we lose our topsoil, we’ve lost everything. You can’t eat sand.

Millennials Are Killing the 2D Picture Plane

The job markets are flooded with artists these days, all with the same lament: “It used to be that if you drew someone /higher/ than someone else, you knew they were further away. But kids these days, they demand that all artwork be representational! That figures should foreshorten relative to their distance from the viewer!”

With that, an art style now joins other destroyed practices such as pyramids, hunting/gathering, and even blood sacrifice.

Nice to see you, nice to see you.

It’s Sunday and we all know what that means! Time to steer your family into a boat and out into the middle of Lake Unnamed, the lake that has yet to be named or put on any map.

“There’s no lake there,” say the map-makers, shivering and afraid of what they’ve seen of our beloved lake, where cold hands stretch above the surface on Sundays. The whole family can paddle about, shaking hands with the water-logged residents of the deep. Nice to see you, nice to see you.

Sure, sometimes the cold wet hands tug an elderly relative whose handshake has grown weak out of the boat and into the dark water, but little is lost. After all, we can see Gran or Gramps next Sunday, their familiar fingers now pushed above the water’s lip with all the others, waiting for our return.