The Cremains of the Day
A mausoleum? In this economy? A full-on shrine in my millennial one-bedroom starter apartment/retirement hovel? A pyramid? On my block in Brooklyn? It is just so inconvenient to try and…
7 Best Found Footage Films About Hauntings
The idea of being haunted and stalked by forces that are aiming to hurt or kill you is terrifying. It’s part of why supernatural horror freaks people the fuck out….
“There’s Something Strange Here” – Tollund Man, Grethe, and Death in a Danish Bog
One day in late winter or early spring, sometime between 405 and 385 BC, a man in his 30s or 40s was hanged near a peat bog in what is…
Growing Up in the House of Grief
I would never have been born if my older sister hadn’t died. Existence is a joke, and most of us aren’t here on purpose. Most of us can’t trace the…
POV: You Are a Dead Greek
1 – Antigone POV: You are the orphaned princess of Thebes and your brother is dead, but your uncle the new King refuses to let you perform your brother’s burial…
Monstrosity and Divinity – a Review of Winter Harvest
Winter Harvest is Ioanna Papadopoulou’s darkly luminous and intensely original reimagining of the tale of Demeter, Greek goddess of the harvest, and what happens when her daughter Kore is abducted…
This Thanksgiving Your Family Should Die Dreaming
Let’s get one thing straight and two things bi: I am not a recipe writer. I’m just a hedonist who likes to get fucked up, and a goth who loves…
6 Of the Most Unsettling Deaths In the Flanaverse
Horror fans love to gush about Mike Flanagan and there are many reasons that that’s justified. Flanagan has captured the hearts of horror nerds with his clear understanding and passion…
Katabases: 5 Journeys To the Underworld
A katabasis is a descent into the underworld, a journey to the realm of death. The word itself comes from the Ancient Greek κατάβασις, meaning “descent,” or “to go down.” Several stories…
Won’t Move On: Best Songs About Dead Lovers
The song poured out of the FM radio in my mom’s Datsun Z as we drove toward the California sunset. The car was older than me, the song was older than the car. A timeless child, born before the internet, I often had trouble placing events in time. I was too aware of alterity and the intentional reproduction of the past. I thought I Love Lucy was a new show made to look like the olden days in black and white; I didn’t know Bobbie Gentry’s “Ode to Billy Joe” or anything else on the oldies station was playing to evoke a nostalgia for people my mother’s age to recall their own youth. Mine was just beginning, and the world was new