The heroine is haunted by all kinds of horror tropes in a few short minutes: wounds, mysterious bleeding, uncanny voices, crawling bugs, disturbing people, creepy phone calls, and oozing monsters. Not to mention less Gothic and more microeconomic fears, like job stress, declined credit cards, dwindling finances, and stalking creditors.
Eventually the heroine cracks under the strain and goes mad.
"You can't outrun it. All you can do is face it. And fight it."
We're doing better with our posthumous digital affairs, according to a Long Now post.
For example, there have recently been a series of Digital Death Day unconferences. There's even a beautifully named Death Switch.
With a death switch, the computer prompts you for your password once a week to make sure you are still alive. When you don’t enter your password for some period of time, the computer deduces you are dead, and your passwords are automatically e-mailed to the second-in-command. Individuals began to use death switches to reveal Swiss bank account numbers to their heirs, to get the last word in an argument, and to confess secrets that were unspeakable during a lifetime.
Celebrity gossip site TMZ discovered the scary side of cyberspace a few weeks ago, running a frantic story about hackers blackmailing the United States into war.
As the headline shrieked,
HACKER GROUP THREATENS
BOMB WHITE HOUSE
(caps and font size in original)
The story starts from the classic trope of the scary hacker: clever, secretive, powerful. Hence their ability to attack the Obama administration.
TMZ then takes things in an odd direction by linking this political threat to celebrities.
We're told the group -- which claims responsibility for swatting Rihanna, Diddy, Ryan Seacrest, Justin Timberlake, Paris Hilton, Chris Brown, Tom Cruise and others -- contacted authorities through 911 and threatened to detonate 8 devices around the White House perimeter if President Obama does not declare war within 24 hours.
Yes, it's about "swatting", not geopolitics. And lets gossip-drenched readers connect their celeb-stalking tales to the White House. Interesting twist on cyberfear.
Naturally there's no retraction or sourcing of the claim.
The primary interface element of Now is what Google calls “cards,” which are modelled after real cards. They present a clean, trim canvas for information—one recalls the discussion of tasteful business-card design in the film “American Psycho.”
"One recalls?" Depends on the "one" in question, but Infocult always remembers. "That's bone."
Their discovery must have been quite the surprise:
When the Russian moths were experimentally offered human hands this summer, the insects drilled their hook-and-barb-lined tongues under the skin and sucked blood.
Lest you think there's a global epidemic of the critters, here's evidence for an especially Russian breed of bloodsucking moth-things:
Entomologist Jennifer Zaspel at the University of Florida in Gainesville said the discovery suggests the moth population could be on an "evolutionary trajectory" away from other C. thalictri populations...
"Based on geography, based on behavior, and based on a phenotypic variation we saw in the wing pattern, we can speculate that this represents something different, something new," Zaspel said.
Russia: redefining real-life Gothic, monster by monster.
In the clip, Sakkar cuts into the chest of the dead soldier before ripping out his heart and liver and declaring: “I swear to God we will eat your hearts and your livers, you soldiers of Bashar the dog”. To off-screen cheers and chants of “Allahu akbar [God is Great]”, the man then bites into the heart.
A Venezuelan skyscraper failed to fill its spaces with business, and fell empty. Gradually poor people moved in, squatting in what sounds like a disturbing ruin:
‘rooms with a view’ lacked walls, working electricity, running water, windows, balcony railings and certainly no elevator, yet the new residents settled in as high as the 30th floor. Chilling stories of small children playing too close to the edge and deadly winds gusting through living quarters were a constant reminder of the risks they were taking.
Yet those squatters self-organized into a healthy community, turning the Gothic vertical slum into what some call a near utopia.