Wednesday, 25 December 2019

Review: “Crawl”



Alexandre AJA (Dir.), “Crawl”, Paramount Pictures, 2019.


“…I said, ‘my pretty Creole girl, my money here’s no good;
if it weren’t for the alligators, I would sleep out in the woods’”

-Traditional, “Lakes of Pontchartrain”

I’m pretty conflicted about this film. On the one hand, I love a horror movie where the situation is everything and, when you inject some nasty creature into it, the stakes get raised enormously. On the other hand, it’s mainland USA alligators who are the menacing agents here and they are just not the predators that they’re painted as in this story. America has crocodiles – big nasty and brutish – but they are not equal to the ‘gators in number and few Americans have seen them or have had anything to do with them; alligators are familiar to everybody and that’s why they’re used here. Don’t get me wrong: a nip from one of these lizards is going to hurt, but it’s only under certain remote circumstances – like being asleep and outdoors; the situation that the guy in the quote above details - that they’d be able to unleash the kind of panic that this movie shows us.

It reminds me of the weirdness that happens in the “Jurassic Park” flicks. In the first film you can imagine the conference where the dino-experts came to Spielberg with the raw facts about the Velociraptor which most likely ended with the director saying, repeatedly, “yes, I understand – but can’t you make them bigger?” I get it: horror movies are not documentaries and the bigger the monsters, the bigger the box-office take, and turkey-sized real-world Velociraptors don’t ramp up the macho of the lead male actors as much as ostrich-sized ones do. However, credibility does have a part to play in all of this. If Alexandre Aja wanted Saltwater Crocodiles for his film, he should have just written a movie set in the Top End of Australia, not played the Maximising Card and dosed his bayou reptiles with a ton of CGI steroids. Or he could have set his story in Egypt – Nile Crocs are bad boys too.

And before anyone gets all “USA! USA!” on me, I should point out that absolutely no part of this movie was shot or staged on American soil. It was filmed in Serbia of all places and even the lead actress – playing a wannabe US Olympic swimming athlete - is British. So why this parochial need to bend the rules of nature and adhere to the North American milieu? The bottom line is - as it always is – product placement, and the ease with which, say, a packet of Doritos can be introduced into a scene in Florida, as opposed to one set in the Nile delta.

So, going in, if you’re any kind of herpetologist, you need to check your alligator knowledge at the door and be prepared to experience the ringing tones of Aja’s best Spielberg impersonation: “yes, I understand – but can’t you make them bigger?”

Back to my reason for liking this film, it’s one of those Haunted House type flicks where the environment absolutely dictates the action of the main players, once the monsters have been unleashed. This is the template of “Alien” and also of “Deep Blue Sea” and a bunch of other monster romps where an understanding of the locale is crucial to the plot. Here, our two leads are bailed-up underneath a house being renovated, trapped in the crawlspace there by rising floodwaters being brought in by a “category 5 hurricane”, one of those storms that Trump didn’t even know that they had numbers for. The weather has ruptured a stormwater outflow and allowed alligators from a secretive nest into the basement and the rising waters force the captives and the intruders upwards through the building until a climactic moment-of-truth on the roof. This path upwards through the structure is crucial to the plot and is an anchor for the narrative: it’s obvious from the early scenes that Aja wanted this to be not just an escape film, but one which takes his lead characters from the lowest point of their relationship to a resounding emotional high moment of redemption. Clunky? Possibly, but a good scaffold on which to build.

Before doing a bit of research, I thought I’d never seen an Aja movie before: I knew that he’d made “Piranha 3D” and so, not unexpectedly, I set my expectations fairly low. But then I discovered that he was the guy who made “Horns” from the Joe Hill novel and that lifted things to a new level. My issues with Joe Hill’s book were that it feels as though it runs out of steam towards the end and becomes bogged down with the author trying to amuse himself with all of the bad puns he can conjure onto the page; Aja, in translating the book to the big screen, trashed all of this pointless waffle – thank God! - and streamlined the narrative into a workable whole – with one exception. There was a point where he felt the need to inject a Heavenly counterpoint to all of the devilishness happening in the story by displaying an angel, something that – deliberately – doesn’t happen in the book (devils and Hellions of all stamps are excluded from the fraternity of Heaven; in short they don’t get to have friends or play with Them Upstairs, and must endure their selfish, lonely lives alone). So, recalling all of this, the redemption arc here in “Crawl” isn’t out of character in this director’s canon but, fortunately, there were no wings and halos this time.

The scares in this film are, as you’d expect, of the ‘monster leaps out of the woodwork’ kind, for the most part. We see our heroine, Haley, enter the basement in search of her missing father and suddenly a ‘gator takes a snap at her. Then, while trying to seek help, she leaves her parent behind, only to become trapped in another part of the structure which is too small to allow the reptile to pursue her. Then, having formulated a plan to distract and evade the ‘gator, she discovers that there’s more than one of them. And so on, and so on. It’s all pretty much par for the course, but what makes it work is that both characters abstain from doing things that are completely stupid (something that other films of this type allow to happen with eye-rolling regularity) and equip themselves in practical fashion: I cheered their use of hand-cranked torches for example, since that meant I could discount long tedious scenes of batteries fading into uselessness.

I was also expecting to see moments when Haley’s swimming athleticism would allow her to outswim an alligator. Thankfully, this also didn’t happen. Rather, the test for our lead was to challenge her desire to win, to “want it” as the expression goes. Yes, her skills in the water stand her in good stead, but the movie never tries to sell us the line that humans are better in the water than a creature explicitly designed for that purpose.

Finally, there’s a solid core of very dark humour running through this film that really helps to lift it from the mire. At one point, as floodwaters are rising, Haley catches sight of a small boat in the forecourt of a petrol station across the way. She cries out to the people piloting it and flashes her torch, trying to catch their attention, but they’re too busy trying to break into the ATM to catch on. By the time they do notice her attempts to communicate, the ‘gators have taken them out one-by-one. Chomp, chomp, chomp…

I’ve become aware that there are quite a few ‘Killer Croc’ films out there, all seeming poor cousins of the ‘Shark Flick’ which I’ve highlighted here in the past: “Lake Placid” and its sequels; “Rogue”, and “Black Water” as instances. I’ve seen “Rogue” and it’s definitely worth checking out, but I don’t think I’ll be setting course to cover all the monster reptile films out there: I’m not sitting through “Anaconda” again… Also, this last year has seen reports that the Yangtze, or Chinese, Alligator must now be considered extinct in the wild, so, for me, that’s the ultimate buzzkill for exploitation cinema of this kind.

As for “Crawl”, it’s slick and entertaining, it carefully avoids the major pitfalls of this type of movie for the most part and it does what it sets out to do in a grimly humorous fashion. Three Tentacled Horrors from me.

Sunday, 22 December 2019

Player Handouts: “Edge of Darkness”


People seem to be enjoying the player handouts that I created for the Chaosium introductory scenario entitled “The Haunting” so I thought I would do some more. This set of handouts is designed for a beginners’ level adventure that was released with the sixth edition rules back in 2004. It was written by Keith Herber and is entitled “Edge of Darkness”. It appears in the rulebook right after “The Haunting” and is a good follow-up to that story. It reveals to neophyte players exactly how the business of Summoning, Binding and Dismissing alien entities works in “Call of Cthulhu” and gives players a first-hand experience of the various levels and effects of sanity and its loss. It’s also set in the Arkham environs during the Classic Era period of the game, so it’s a solid entrĂ©e to Mythos roleplaying.

First up, the players are summoned to the bedside of an Old Friend (not my favourite way to hook in a group, but never mind). Rupert Merriweather is dying, and it transpires that he and his extinct friends have left behind them a huge mystical mess that needs sorting out. It involves – initially - the contents of a metal box:


(There are a number of boxes in this story – it pays to keep track of them!)

Within the box are an envelope containing a deed to a farming property outside of the Arkham city limits, along with the key to it; a journal; and a small gold box shaped like an Egyptian sarcophagus. Obtaining this stuff is contingent upon working around Merriweather’s snarky son and heir, so some deft arbitration is called for.

The main focus of attention is the golden box. It’s shaped as a traditional sarcophagus (a Greek word meaning – quite appropriately – “corpse eater”) and it has hieroglyphs on its lid, within a cartouche, along with another set of glyphs on the underside of the same – these are quite different in style.



The most interesting thing about this item is that it has practically nothing to do with the story. It’s a MacGuffin to hang future adventures on and, while it’s of little use in the present situation, it’s loaded with all kinds of possibilities for an erstwhile Keeper.

A more pertinent source of clues is the Journal of the Dark Brotherhood. In the scenario as presented, the Keeper is instructed to determine which player character takes charge of this object and to dole out information to them as outlined in a section entitled “Reading the Journal”. I’ve broken up this information into a number of graphics which should be distributed in the following order:




Here's a close-up on that newspaper article:



The original scenario parcels this information up into a different arrangement of documents, but ultimately, it all works out the same as presented here.

On the basis of this reading, the party is encouraged to do some research in the local libraries about what they’ve just discovered, and some of those options are summed up here:

For characters who successfully use their History or Egyptology skills there's this:


And this is for characters who successfully use their Occult skills:


(I couldn’t resist throwing a reference to James Churchward in here – he was an English writer and polymath who conducted serious research on the Lost Continent of Mu. His major opus, The Lost Continent of Mu: Motherland of Man, was published in 1926 and was thoroughly pillaged by H.P. Lovecraft and E. Hoffmann Price.)

Finally, for characters who choose to trawl through back-issues of the local newspapers there’s this:


Next, after absorbing all of this information, the players may decide to head out to the sleepy village of Ross’s Corners to check out the farm. The locals are reticent, and the place is a mess, but soon another box is found – this time an old cigar box, with two small containers and a sheaf of yellowed pages within.


Again, the contents of the box are of minor interest. The canister contains a necessary material component for the Summoning ritual while the small box is full of the Powder of ibn-Ghazi – not really necessary for this story, but a mean trick on anyone who uses it on the Summoned, partially-invisible horror!


The information on the sheaf of papers is the good oil here:


Six copies of the chant required for the Summoning;


Some reference and background information on sources (I threw in this reference about a colleague with access to the Restricted Library because the scenario doesn't cover how Allen got to see Prinn's book and also to further show how shonky he is!);


A picture of the Pentagram with some cryptic chemical information about the brown powder in the small tin canister;


And the transcribed details for running the ritual.

(The original scenario calls for 13 pages all up in this bundle, but I’ve condensed it down somewhat for the sake of brevity.)

And that’s it. This is a nice little introduction to Lovecraftian horror roleplaying with lots of scope for embellishment by the Keeper and room to create ongoing story material. Seek it out and see what you think!

(All information presented here is copyright Chaosium Inc., taken from CALL OF CTHULHU 6th Edition, 2004.)

Monday, 9 December 2019

Review: “Occult Detective Quarterly", Issue #5 - Winter 2018



GRANT, John Linwood, et.al (eds.), “Occult Detective Quarterly, Issue #5 – Winter 2018, Ulthar Press, Warren RI, 2018.

Octavo; paperback, with illustrated wrappers; 166pp., with many monochrome illustrations. Minor wear. New.


Some time ago – when this issue first emerged – I made a deliberate decision to not review it. There were three reasons for this and they are as follows: in my previous assessments of “Occult Detective Quarterly” (ODQ), I made some comments about a particular regular feature of this magazine at which one member of the journal’s production staff took great offense, regardless of the fact that those comments were based on my personal opinion (which I feel free to express) and were couched explicitly in such terms. They, in turn, felt perfectly free to retail their opinion of my opinion here at this blog and, after some brief exchanges, I felt that the issue had been concluded, although, at the same time, I felt less than encouraged to make any further efforts at promoting this organ. That’s reason one. Reason two is that it wasn’t apparently concluded there, because the editor chose to rake the matter up again in the introduction of this issue – apparently, honour wasn’t quite satisfied, and this was a bone that needed more chewing. The third reason is the obvious one: I have a story published in this issue and it felt a bit on the nose to review a vehicle parading my own efforts.

However, things have come to light which wipe the slate clean and which force me to rise above this tawdry clash of personal opinions. John Linwood Grant, the spiritual leader of this journal, contacted me to discuss payment for the story which appears here. I had practically written-off any notion of being paid at all for my efforts and was surprised that the topic had suddenly materialised. It transpired that Sam Gafford, head of Ulthar Press, which had taken over publishing duties for ODQ, had died suddenly and now the other ODQ stakeholders were trying to sort out some kind of future, not only for the magazine, but for the Press overall. This meant tracking down all contributors and ensuring that monies owed became monies paid. I told John to pour any cash owed to me back into Ulthar Press and to keep the journal alive, because a world without ODQ is a poorer one for it. To that end, I decided to write a review despite the reasons outlined above, because forums such as these need to survive so that writers can showcase their efforts, particularly the kind of niche writing that this magazine promotes. Reviews lead to sales; sales lead to longevity; therefore, I’m doing my bit (and pretending that my own work doesn’t exist between the covers of this magazine!).

First things first: the book is physically smaller this time around. The previous four issues were quarto-sized, perfect-bound affairs with colour cover art and glossy wrappers; in this iteration, we’ve downsized to the octavo format with gloomy monochrome artwork and a velvety lacquer on the covers. Personally, I dislike this finish because it feels kind of ‘creepy’ – which is, ironically, why I used it on my own book of ghost stories – and it marks easily, especially when retailers clog up the panels with their pricing and promotional stickers (admittedly, this isn’t too likely to happen, given current print-on-demand platforms). As a distinct break from the previous issues, this all works well – the art is suitably moody and nicely executed and the smaller size is perfect for those occult detection fans who like to read on public transport.

On the inside, there’s a lot less art than in previous issues, which might be due to fewer contributors in this sphere or due to time or material constraints. (I know that my story, in particular, was bit on the long side, and I was told that it would have to wait until space became available in order for it to see print.) There are still quite a few advertisements though, usually at the end of the stories after the now-trademark ‘skull dingus’ that signifies a gap in the proceedings. Ads are lifeblood for these types of journals and it’s good to see them represented. The rest of the content breaks down into two sections – fiction mostly up front and articles in the back. Let’s start on the stories:

First up is Tim Waggoner’s “The Empty Ones”. This is a return to an interesting world which was first presented to us within the pages of ODQ #2. In that issue’s tale – “The Grabber Man” – we encountered Ismael Carter, psychologist with heterochromia, who has the ability to see into a dangerous dimension, or reality, which he calls “The Shadow”, and who takes it upon himself to work against the evil incursions of that realm. Here, the stakes are incredibly high, as he strives to help a childhood friend avoid the attentions of the eponymous Empty Ones who pursue him through time and space trying to devour reality as it forms and who he distracts by slaughtering innocents for them to feed upon instead. This is a tight little tale that really delivers and helps to push open wider the enticing doorway to this concept.

In “The Curious Adventure of the Homesick God”, Sandy Chadwin introduces us to Finbar Coryat, occult detective, and his friend Newman, who together investigate various spooky goings-on at the Great Museum of the North in Newcastle-upon-Tyne. It turns out that an avatar of the Legionnaire’s god Mithras is manifesting within a museum recreation of a typical Mithraeum, or site sacred to Mithras. In getting to the bottom of the manifesting deity’s discomfort, they encounter the ghost of a 3,000-year-old Egyptian princess and avoid the wrath of a gallery’s worth of taxidermized animals, killed and stuffed and put on display for no good reason. The colophon to this tale states that the author used real locations and elements for his story, and it shows in the amount of detail which he brings to the narrative. It kind of feels that he loses track of the story somewhat in trying to show how intimate with the Museum he is – and in trying to force the laughter here and there – but overall it’s a nice concept, well executed.

“Shadow’s Angle” by Brandon Barrows tells the story of a Japanese exorcist, Azuma Kuromori, tailing a demon-possessed body through a modern Japanese city. This is a well-written story with plenty of twists and turns and a nice sting in the tale. My only issue with it is that it could have been set anywhere, so bland is the location detailing and so American is the idiom. I couldn’t tell if the setting was Japanese or if only the characters were Japanese. Possibly, this was the result of trying to tiptoe around potentially racist minefields but, at the end of the day, it simply speaks of a failure to commit, both racially and culturally.

“The Unquiet Office” by Marion Pitman tears a page out of a Dorothy L. Sayers mystery and dials things up a notch with ghosts and an intrepid spinster-investigator invested with just a hint of the essence of Miss Marple (or even of D.L.S. herself!). Jane Oliver, an editor at a London publisher’s during the Thirties, learns that the man in the office next door to hers is afraid to work there because the place is haunted. She tells her circle of friends about the situation and her best friend’s maiden aunt – Irene Rogers – invites herself along to try a bit of ghostbusting. The unravelling of the situation is expertly handled and ties things off in a quite satisfying manner. There were one or two instances when information was awkwardly dumped on the reader in an attempt to show how much the author knew about the time and place, but these can be glossed over. (Dracula, by Bram Stoker, for instance, wasn’t a popular book at all at the time it was written; everyone was reading The Beetle by Richard Marsh instead.)

“Brown Eyes Crying In The Rain” by Steve Liskow will please fans of “Supernatural” with its set-up. Our investigator patrols a deadly stretch of road on a rainy night hoping that the often-spotted ghost of a girl who died there will reappear. Todd is in luck: the girl appears and what happens next solves her seventeen-year old cold case. This is a nicely done piece which hits all the right notes and deeply satisfies. Those looking for the typical ‘Sam & Dean’ denouement, however, will probably be disappointed.

In a necromantically warded tower on the outskirts of an ancient kingdom, master vampire Lord Bloodthirst, vassal of the Eternal Empress of the Night, has been staked to death by an unknown assailant. Desperate to solve the mystery, Prince Sanguine arranges for the abduction of Serena Cordosa Arabella EnchantĂ© Alacansa, First Princess of Lacasse-Epstein and Heiress of the Malachite Crown – she, the only one able to thwart the Plots of the Iron Knave; who solved the Puzzle of the Dolmens of Heath; and who completed the Unsolvable Riddle of the Sunken Donjon - to undertake an investigation of the murder. In “A Princess Calls”, I.A. Watson and Chelsea Vance concoct a delicious and hilarious romp which Princess EnchantĂ© herself calls “your classic locked castle mystery”. I needn’t point out (what with the J.B. Priestley-riffing title) that there’s a sting in the tail, but in the meantime, readers are left wondering - was it Lord Blackgoth in the Feasting Hall with the chair leg? Or some other form of nefariousness…?

“Storm Stones” by Cody Schroeder treads some tired old ground in its narrative, albeit well-written in an engaging style. Essentially though, it’s another tale of a rough-and-tumble monster-hunter getting dragged into a case that he feels overly conflicted about. In his instance, our hunter is “Sam Hain” (which, I don’t need to tell you, is wrong on so many levels) and the Monster Of The Week is a giant crystalline porcupine-cum-grizzly bear called a Lyn Dyr. (America, it seems, is the melting-pot and stomping ground of every world mythology that there is.) The local police presence wants the creature dead and our investigator would rather conserve than kill and thereby hangs the tale. It’s a highly entertaining read in the style of Jim Butcher, but predictable. And Mr. Hain also has heterochromia which clashes unfortunately with Mr. Waggoner’s earlier piece…

I was a bit nervous getting into Megan Taylor’s “Exposing the Dead”. There’s a tendency for some writers to play with the tense of their story - especially when it involves young, street-savvy, or homeless youths - because it seems that, when everything is in the present, it speaks more to the recklessness of youth. It’s a very tired technique, to be frank. Here we have two young women daring each other to break into an abandoned Spiritualist church on the other side of a busy road. Fully in the present tense, we see them cajole and bully each other into completing the task at hand, with a bucketload of revelations about their individual pasts and their relationship, only to be brought up short by the terrible reveal at the end. These are a pair of amateur investigators who are having a Really Bad Night. Despite my trepidations, this turned out okay.

In “Daddy’s Girl” by Julian Wildey, we encounter “Merodack the Magnificent” a bona fide occult investigator slumming as a carnival fortune-teller and magician. One night in western upstate New York – “the old ‘Burned-over District’ that had birthed Spiritualism, Mormonism, and any number of sects and failed Utopias of the last century” – Lisbeth Duttee pays a call on the canny carny and tells him a strange tale of woe about her unwell father. The resulting magical after-hours house-call involves a twist and double twist with the unnatural birthing of a three-headed spider demon and some of the lightest Mythos touches I’ve ever read. Mr. Wildey knows his occult literature as well and that always scores points in my book. Excellent stuff!

Loren Rhoads’ nifty story “Something In The Water” outlines the precarious events which transpire after a San Francisco Aquarium worker inadvertently adds a liquid-bodied nereid – or water spirit – to its collection. Called in to try and explain odd goings-on at the aquarium that have resulted in at least one death, local mystic Alondra DeCourval awakens ichthyologist Jacki Ruiz to a world of magical underwater possibilities – one armed with a load of pointy teeth and a bloody single-mindedness. Rhoads makes deft use of her understanding of the aquarium setting and the history surrounding it which never feels like an intrusive ‘info dump’; as well, her occult detective is solidly grounded and feels like a real person, rather than just a ‘dashing tailored coat with a big gun and a magic talisman in one pocket’ which is all too often the case with these characters. Great stuff!

Cliff Biggers’ “Hastur in Hyades” continues the Occult Legion series, detailing an occult detective’s attempts to trace the source of a 1960s rock band’s demonically backmasked recording (clue: it starts with the letter ‘H’). A well-written installment.

So much for the fiction, the rest of the issue is a bunch of articles pertinent to the themes of ODQ along with some thoughtful reviews. Bobby Derie gives us an overview of the career of - largely-forgotten, nowadays - author Seabury Quinn’s occult investigator Jules de Grandin, mainly through the pages of “Weird Tales” magazine. Meanwhile, Paul St. John Mackintosh details his experiences at the annual CrimeFest convention in Bristol, 2018, where occult crossovers in crime fiction were the hot topic du jour. James Bojaciuk’s regular column (“Aural Apparitions”) on audio recordings and podcasts of the supernaturally investigative, covers what might prove to be (sadly) the last in the “Omega Factor” audiobook series. Finally, Dave Brzeski takes us on a tour of the novels and screen writing of William Hjortsberg, which includes one of my favourite films, “Angel Heart”.

With that, it’s another successful issue put to bed. There is so much to enjoy in each episode of this magazine that it endlessly repays investment. The notion of the investigator working with or against supernatural elements is so endlessly reiterative that inspiration looms on every page, whether you are a reader, writer, or roleplayer. It’s true that some of the writing isn’t always as polished as it could be, but the ideas are almost always solid and are definitely worth the entry fee. If it wasn’t the case, I wouldn’t write for it.

Three Tentacled Horrors from me.

*****

Contents:

“The Empty Ones”, Tim Waggoner
“The Curious Adventure of the Homesick God”, Sandy Chadwin
“Shadow’s Angle”, Brandon Barrows
“The Unquiet Office”, Marion Pitman
“Brown Eyes Crying In The Rain”, Steve Liskow
“A Princess Calls”, I.A. Watson & Chelsea Vance
“Storm Stones”, Cody Schroeder
“Exposing the Dead”, Megan Taylor
“Daddy’s Girl”, Julian Wildey
“Something In the Water”, Loren Rhoads
“The Devil Drives”, Craig Stanton
Occult Legion: “Hastur in Hyades”, Cliff Biggers

Articles:

“The Occult Jules de Grandin”, Bobby Derie
“CrimeFest 2018, Report”, Paul St. John Mackintosh
Aural Apparitions: “The Omega Factor” (Big Finish), James Bojaciuk
Cold Cases: reviewing selected works by William Hjortsberg – Falling Angel, Angel’s Inferno & “Angel Heart”, Dave Brzeski

Sunday, 24 November 2019

Mi-Go Thinking…


Some time ago now I posted some random thoughts about the infamous Fungi from Yuggoth inspired by an investigation of Laurent de Longnez’s Eighteenth Century work about the planets of our solar system. I thought I would put some of these cogitations into action and come up with a new way of looking at the Mi-Go. For what it’s worth, here is a different take on an old Mythos stand-by that might get some creative juices flowing out there.

Of course, none of this is canon and is easily ignored if it doesn't suit your purposes; however, if you think it might add some interesting wrinkles to your material, give it a shot!

de Longnez Redux

De LONGNEZ, Laurent, L’Histoire des Planetes, Paris France, 1792

Quarto; full calf, decorated in blind with blind rules and blind-stamped spine titles between six raised bands, with two brass hasps; 320pp., on laid paper, with a decorated title page and 16 engraved plates, one folding.

French; Laurent de Longnez; 1792; 1D2/1D4 Sanity Loss; Cthulhu Mythos +10; 17 weeks to study and comprehend

An enigmatic book. It contains a wealth of information about the planets of our Solar system, much of it fanciful and mired in mythology and legend. A lot of the occult detail derives from sources which are plainly not of the Western mystical tradition and is said to have been generated by some unknown access to Hyperborean sources. It’s noteworthy that several planets listed in the outline were not known of at the time of writing, specifically Uranus, Neptune and Pluto, although the planets spoken of are not identified by those names.

De Longnez’s book suffers from poor editing and is riddled with errors of grammar and punctuation, indicating that its production suffered from an excess of haste. Modern readers (from about 1900 onwards) incur a -15% penalty to their Read Language: French rolls when engaging with this text if their level in that skill is below 60%.

*****

The thing that got me thinking was the reference in L’Histoire des Planetes of a race of “men” living on Neptune which were of a fungoid nature. De Longnez portrays them quite whimsically as human-seeming figures with large mushroom caps on their heads; interestingly, he shows them being tossed by great winds, a known feature of Neptune’s atmosphere but something of which the French writer could not have been aware at the time of writing. He later refers to another fungal species living on a distant planet which he calls “Iukkoth”, and he also speaks of an insectoid species – the Shan - driven from the planet Shaggai and which planet-hopped towards Earth looking for a new home base before stopping on L’gy’hx (Uranus).


While it might be plausible that fungal species predominate at the further reaches of our solar system (making it a dominant lifeform in our part of the universe when you consider the diversity of fungoid life on our planet alone), it seemed a little convenient that there would be two highly intelligent fungal life-forms kicking around out there, especially when you consider the voracious nature of the Insects from Shaggai and their tendency to colonize fanatically and dominate all sentient creatures wherever they go. Put plainly, if the Shan had jumped steadily from planet to planet, they would have colonized Earth completely by now, and things would be a little grim for us as a species. Something stopped them in their tracks, and that something – to my way of thinking – was those funny looking mushroom-people on Neptune.

The Nature of Fungus…

Fungal lifeforms – which include a bewildering variety of mushrooms, toadstools, molds, smuts and rusts – are typified by the fact that they cannot be conclusively defined as plants or animals. They display features from both camps and thus, because they belong absolutely to neither, must be taxonomically described as either and listed as a separate type of lifeform. It’s this combination of features which allows fungal entities to invade both plants and animals in order to – primarily – bring about their decomposition.

Fungi procreate by creating and releasing spores. These are sometimes released explosively through the creation of fruiting bodies generated by the main structure of the fungus or are dispersed by wind or water. Other types of fungus move about in order to maximise resources and to spread to more favourable locales, while other forms deliberately infect other plants or animals using their growth or locomotive faculties to spread the range of their habitat. Fungi do the majority of this work using long, almost invisible fibres called mycelia which they radiate outwards from their central mass. It has recently been discovered that many trees and other large plants use these webs of fibres under the ground to symbiotically ‘communicate’ with each other concerning such things as soil quality, water levels and weather conditions.

One particular family of fungus – Cordyceps – uses its mycelia to infect ants and other insects. The fungus growing within the insect then drives the creature as if using a kind of exoskeleton, sending it out to find the kinds of nutrients and other raw materials its host needs in order to survive and procreate. When the time is right, it forces the insect to crawl upwards onto grass stalks or tree limbs and position itself such that it cannot easily be dislodged. Then, the fungus creates a fruiting body called an ascocarp which bursts forth out of the insect’s head or thorax, releasing spores for the wind to carry out to the next waiting insect drones. Some Cordyceps species utilize only ants in this fashion; others are less choosey. One species inhabits only tarantulas…

Putting it All Together…


My premise, therefore, is that those benign little guys with the big hats on Neptune, were actually a species of fungus which reproduce a lot like Cordyceps does. I imagine that the Shan – an insect species which, like many insect species – would have a range of body types within their hive structure, suited for various purposes, one of which would be a ‘heavy infantry’ or ‘shock trooper’ form, useful for crashing down onto a planet and taking it over. The standard Shan form is quite small, with intelligence seeming to be inversely-proportional to size in their race, and the usual Shan entity encountered is a sneaky, vicious scout model, useful for infiltrating when the odds would seem to be against an easy Shaggai victory.

I imagine that initial Shan reports of L’gy’hx reported a rather benign and unwarlike race in charge, if only because everything on the planet that could have been infected by the inhabitants’ mycelia had been. Accordingly, they rained destruction from the skies in the form of their heavy cavalry fighter swarms, only to become bemused when everything went very, very quiet. I imagine the fungus folk on Neptune thought that all of their Christmases had come at once: here was a perfect vehicle for them to occupy; space-worthy, made of extraterrene, dimensionally-shifting matter and built for mayhem on a galactic scale. What’s not to love?

My suggestion is that, unlike other fungal types who create ascocarps and other fruiting bodies in response to nutritional and environmental stimuli, the fungus people of Neptune could delay certain phases of their physical development according to need. Thus, they could infiltrate the Shan stormtroopers with their mycelia, grow inside them and control their bodies and then burst forth their ascocarp without letting it release its spores, but rather to enact certain other useful protocols.

Thus, while most of us would think of a Mi-Go as something like this:


Strictly speaking, a Mi-Go is just this:


And just like that, the deadly rampage of the Shan through our solar system was stopped dead in its tracks and the Mi-Go, the “Fungi from Yuggoth”, were born.

(The relocation to Yuggoth – possibly our Pluto, but not likely – makes sense since fungal species do not enjoy bright light – so moving away from the Sun is key – and also they needed to consolidate their claim over the Shan by backtracking across the Insects from Shaggais’ dominion.)

But having taken control of the local Shan enclaves, the MiGo didn’t just settle down into the sort of torpor that had consumed them on L’gy’hx. With these new bodies they began exploring their new environments, now no longer confined to a single planet. They experimented with innovative surgical techniques, made contact with the other entities in their neighbourhood and began to consolidate themselves as the creatures which we have come to know.

Alternative Fungal Bodies

Once they have compromised a body to use as a means of locomotion, the MiGo have to adjust to their new circumstance. After a number of months equal to the MiGo’s CON score, they go into a torpid state during which their new body structure becomes consolidated. The ascocarp firms up and the matter forming the unreleased spores within it is re-absorbed; as well, any extraneous, or problematic, remnants of the original body are sloughed away or reconfigured. In the case of the insectoid hosts provided by the Shan, this period of torpor includes the creation of a cocoon like structure around the creature; in other instances, a tight web of mycelia are created around the nascent being. The being that emerges from such a state is more ‘solid’ and defined, and able to become an effective member of MiGo society, lending the skills that its new form bestows.

Many hive-based insects have alternate forms within their species designated “castes” and I see no reason why the Shan should not follow suit. The pigeon-sized, sneaky, monstrous blowfly form familiar to Mythos aficionados works as a scout operative, hiding in the shadows while surveying potential planets for domination and taking over the bodies of the inhabitants. Because they work at great distances from the hive and must adapt to changing and volatile situations, they are generally cunning and resourceful.


These Scouts have a variety of different kinds of limbs useful for a range of activities, although whether these occur naturally or are surgical modifications is currently unknown. The Shan are highly adept at such surgery and it can be inferred that the MiGo only took on such skills after assuming control of the Shan enclaves in our Solar System. The Insects from Shaggai are also dimensionally unstable, allowing them to fly through space or invade the bodies of their hosts: Shan entities who have been Fungally compromised, lose this quality but not entirely: they are left with an inability to be photographed without the use of special camera equipment. Photos taken of the MiGo always display blurred images but can be viewed correctly through complex exotic lens arrays or rendered visible using eccentric emulsions during the photographic development phase. Whilst unable to phase through solid matter, the fungal avatars do become resistant to extremes of temperature and environment and can thus endure high altitudes and even the rigours of outer space.


MiGo who infect Shan Scouts, while unable to possess other creatures, benefit from their small size in being able to hide and crawl on vertical planes or the underside of horizontal surfaces. The passive telepathy with which all MiGo are gifted also allows them to avoid detection by other creatures in their vicinity. An interesting aspect of this body conformation is that, if the MiGo Scout uses its large claws to cover its ascocarp, their telepathy becomes obscured, allowing them to hide from beings able to detect such emanations. Some metaphysical researchers have however, determined that, if a Shan spell - the “Invocation to Azathoth” (see below) - is used while in the company of such shielded fungi, they will raise their claws and join in, thus revealing their locations.

*****

The most common form of MiGo encountered is the larger mantid form generated from the combining of MiGo ascocarp and Shan ‘shock-trooper’. This format has wings and a myriad of pincers and nippers, allowing for all kinds of useful adaptation. Many of the notorious MiGo surgical processes are performed by such entities. But there are other forms available to the Fungal infiltrators, within Shan society.

The Insects from Shaggai are cruel and despotic. They enjoy dominating other creatures and they delight in torturing them. A feature of their society are the presence of torture pits and gladiatorial arenas. These have proven to be fertile grounds for the MiGo, who have generated many interesting new hybrid forms from them.

Foremost amongst these are the MiGo generated from the Beings of Xiclotl. The Beings are massive and used by the Shan for heavy labour, blitzkrieg strikes, or for gladiatorial bouts. When combined with a MiGo, they become more intelligent which makes them a lot more useful. Firstly, given their massive size, the MiGo tend to colonise the Being of Xiclotl, with up to five ascocarps erupting from the infestation. Given that the MiGo have a shared intelligence, this doesn’t affect their ability to operate the creature, but it does allow for the combination to be an effective ‘seeding’ agent. A Xiclotlan MiGo can lumber into an environment with up to four of its ascocarps releasing spores, either simultaneously or in sequence, to populate a territory or decimate an opposing army (obviously, the creature will not have undergone a period of torpor for this to occur). Otherwise, the sheer size and combat effectiveness of the Xiclotlan MiGo has all kinds of applications.


Another creature from the torture pits of the Shan is a kind of whip-spider which seems to have been built from one of the Shaggai shock troopers. These creatures have been modified to appear more like scorpions than mantids and are used by the Shan to transport troops and equipment into areas which they seek to control. These entities have broad backs upon which stuff can be placed and they have been surgically modified to have claws to aid in this process. A long whip-like tail has also been provided for defense: this mainly works like a long flexible club and is also fitted along its length with venom producing glands capable of blinding foes, but which mainly induces an incapacitating stinging sensation in those it strikes. Of course, this venom, like all poisons, is meaningless to the fungoid MiGo, but they have learnt that it works against their enemies, so they retain it when infecting these creatures as hosts.


Again, these are mostly mindless creatures in their standard form; when infected by the MiGo, they have access to the Fungal hive mind and their actions become generally more considered.

Fungal Technology

Re-visiting the Fungus from Yuggoth also means looking once more at their technology and these creatures have perhaps the most comprehensive equipment catalogue in the Mythos. Let’s unpack:

First, we have to acknowledge that most of the more familiar items of MiGo tech have been developed since the race took over Shan bodies. This is because these items conform – in most cases - more particularly to the new dimensions of the standard MiGo form than otherwise. Second, Shan technology is more, well, ‘technological’ than the things which the MiGo create and some of this expertise has obviously been incorporated into the newer forms of MiGo tech.

Bio-Armour:
These bio-luminescent harnesses are actually a type of slime mold. They can exist well enough when worn by a MiGo user, since the fungal nature of the MiGo allows the mesh to absorb the proper nutrients from its wearer. When worn by a human however, the armour is less effective and causes damage to the wearer. Over time, due to lack of proper nutrition, the slime mold eventually dies.

Brain Cylinder:
Humans tend to rationalise things, putting objects that they see but don’t immediately understand into a context that allows them to make sense of their experience. In the case of the MiGo Brain Cylinder, humans have seen the hard, pod-like dimensions of these objects, and have seen the brain within, suspended in a mesh of mycelium strands and have ‘read’ these as technological objects when in fact they are organic structures. The vaguely cylindrical exterior of the ‘Cylinder is composed of a leathery skin – akin to the outside of a puffball but far more durable – with a transparent patch allowing visual access to the brain encased inside, suspended in a mycelium web and being fed nutrients inside a slime medium. And those external components which are plugged in to allow communication with the brain’s owner? Why build eyes and ears from scratch when you can just take them from another creature and surgically affix them to the Brain Cylinder? Fungus doesn’t utilize nerves or axons, so the MiGo don’t really comprehend such things as pain…

Earthquake Mining Machine:
The other way that the MiGo dissuade outsiders from learning about their capabilities – especially their technological devices – is to use their inborn abilities of psychic manipulation to alter their enemies’ perception of their equipment. The fact that these devices have been described by witnesses as “enormous cubes, twenty feet on a side” leads me to think that they are in fact anything but.

I would posit – given that such agglomerations of fungus exist here on Earth – that the “Earthquake Mining Machine” is in fact an enormous fungal mass, capable of moving through rock strata and of dislodging pieces of the earth’s crust – hence the name. These masses would – like all MiGo fungal entities – share a consciousness with their creators and be effective agents in creating earthworks, subterranean hideouts and other useful defences.

Electric Gun:
The Electric Gun would seem to be a piece of MiGo tech that pre-dates their transformation into Shan hosts. When you think about it, a race with pincers and claws would never create a weapon that can only be effectively utilized by limbs of a more accommodating nature – like hands for example. I would propose that these devices were (and probably still are) affixed into the fungal matter of the entity and are then fired by conscious mental manipulation. Human witnesses may well have seen the MiGo carrying these objects prior to implantation; they may have seen the MiGo use them by activating them clumsily with their claws; and some humans might well have gotten one of these thing to work by fiddling with its mechanism; but it’s not how they were meant to be used. Not a pistol; not so much: more like a cybernetically-implanted taser-gun.

Mist Projector:
Intense cold tends to slow fungal matter down, but it doesn’t necessarily kill it. The MiGo may well have used these items to curtail unwanted blooms of material but they have since found out that sub-zero temperatures are very useful in slowing down and destroying other lifeforms. Since having taken over Shan bodies, the MiGo are even more resistant to temperature extremes than they were previously. With the adoption of Shan nous, these devices are more efficiently technological nowadays rather than organic in nature.

We should also include known Shan equipment in this list, since – positing that the MiGo (as we know them) are simply compromised Shan entities – the technology of Shaggai has now also become the property of the MiGo.

Space Pyramids:
The Shan and the MiGo both share a worship of Azathoth, but whether this arose in both species independently or if it was adopted by the MiGo after their occupation of the Shan, is unknown. These pyramidal interstellar ships are powered by a radioactive core which is said to be a dimensional connexion to Azathoth itself. The MiGo seem not to be too keen on using them, which makes sense: the Shan, being extra-dimensional in nature, can shrug off heavy rads; fungus is durable, but can still be affected by intense radiation, even when bolstered by a partial dimensional fluidity granted by ex-Shan bodies. Still, it must be assumed that the MiGo know of these spaceships, are able to build them, and can use them at a pinch.

Nervewhip:
The Nervewhip is a vicious device which speaks to the nature of the Shan in that it causes maximum pain and disability without doing a lot of damage (although it can still give the victim a heart-attack). The MiGo are aware that other races experience pain, but they are unable to understand it, since fungus just doesn’t work that way: nerves are for other species. Thus, this device is infrequently found in the average MiGo armoury, although they do like to arm their “Alien Grey” creatures with them, if only to throw off the suspicions of those familiar with traditional MiGo armaments.

Fungal Dirty Tricks

One thing that makes the MiGo so insidious as enemies of Earth is that they are able to adapt and to re-configure themselves and their technology in order to accommodate the things that they learn about us. Essentially, they learn and then they formulate new ways of doing things, factoring in the stuff that they’ve discovered. Here are a few choice instances.

Poison:
Most chemicals have a minimal effect upon the MiGo. Acids and other caustic substances will burn them but there are few substances which could be called ‘poisonous’ to a fungal lifeform. The prime enemy of the MiGo – chemically – is Sulphur, which is a known natural fungicide, but other compounds must be formulated using the capabilities of a lab.

On the flipside, the MiGo are extremely poisonous to human beings, as are many other fungal bodies. If the substance of a MiGo is ingested by a human, they will start to malfunction on a chemical level. The damage to their body is systemic, meaning that entire systems of organs within the body begin to shut down, starting with the liver and kidneys. Death is always drawn-out and inevitable.

Hallucinogens:
No-one is quite sure what gives the MiGo their telepathic qualities, but when these are combined with the hallucinogenic emissions that these creatures can summon up, the effects that they can produce are quite literally terrifying. The MiGo have become experts in generating complex narratives designed to dupe their prey, using the powers that their hallucinogens can inspire in their targets – fear, panic, paranoia, sensory overload, somnolence and disassociation. The most complex and ongoing narrative that they have formulated includes the following:

“Alien Greys”:
The entire body of lore which can be labelled as the “UFO Phenomenon” is a wall of deception generated by the MiGo to obfuscate their various incursions upon this planet. As part of a highly organized plan which includes hallucinogenic manipulation of witnesses and the implantation of various narratives including the “alien abduction scenario”, the MiGo have gone so far as to create fungal exoskeletons in the form of the Alien Grey, a now well-known by-product of UFO hysteria.

These are bodies made from fungal matter and are designed to throw off any connexion to the MiGo operatives working here on this planet. It’s not known if these are wholly-created sentient beings, telemetric automata controlled distantly by MiGo ‘puppeteers’, or if they are standard MiGo which have been extensively surgically altered. Time, and investigation, will no doubt tell…

Interstellar Missiles:
A niggling fear among the fraternities of those who are aware of the MiGo threat, is the possibility that they might be able to create interstellar missiles capable of travelling through space and ‘seeding’ planets with MiGo creatures. Of course, the MiGo have already achieved this goal.

For more details about these terrifying weapons, backtrack through this blog and read the scenario entitled “The Monkey Tree Puzzle”, along with a bunch of other nifty ideas about MiGo nastiness.

Eggs:
While fungal and driven by a space-faring collective intelligence, the MiGo – since being freed from their prison on Neptune – are still fundamentally invasive intelligences driving alien bodies. That doesn’t mean that the capabilities of those bodies cannot be exploited. One of the driving requirements of the new MiGo species is continuation and growth; more MiGo means more Shan bodies which are required for exploitation. That means one thing: eggs.

The Shan, while a loosely hive-based species, are not, like ants or bees, truly a hive consciousness. They are more closely analogous to wasps, in terms of their social organization, but more truly like flies. As such, they have no single “queen” entity birthing all members of the hive, neither do they have a true caste system, although they have generated their own diversification of form and function as part of their culture. Therefore, each Insect from Shaggai is capable of growing eggs, of fertilizing the eggs of another of their kind, and of implanting their own fertilised eggs inside the body of a host creature. None of these capabilities are denied the MiGo usurper of a Shan corpus.

If necessary, a MiGo can activate the organs of generation of their Shan body and create eggs. These can be fertilized by another MiGo and inserted – using the Shan’s standard ovipositor – into the body of a host creature. These eggs will then mature, hatch and begin eating the body of the host from the inside out. At the appropriate time, the MiGo will harvest the larvae and imprison them in “Brain Cylinders” controlling their development until MiGo spores can be introduced to them and they can then emerge as new MiGo beings. Sometimes, the MiGo lay eggs in captive creatures simply for food. Omelette, anyone?


New Spell

Invocation to Azathoth:
This is a ritual benediction to the Outer God, asking for assistance in forthcoming endeavours. It involves a traditional chant and a complex (for humans, anyway) set of gestures made with the hands. When cast by a human practitioner, it costs 1 Magic Point and 1 Sanity Point; Shan and MiGo casters only spend the Magic Point since sanity is a meaningless term when applied to them.

Casting this spell means that any subsequently cast Mythos spell is 5% more likely to succeed, and 10% more likely to do so if that spell specifically invokes, or is associated with, Azathoth. It also occasionally (5%) reveals the presence of invisible, or magically hidden, objects or creatures. As mentioned above, if used in the vicinity of telepathically shielded MiGo Scouts, they will reveal themselves to those able to spot telepathic activity.