Much of the old Yog Radio gang (from several iterations) have joined together for a new (hopefully!) podcast series: The Cthulhu Breakfast Club. Paul of Cthulhu is joined by Val and Finn (of the YSDC actual play group), Chris Lackey (of News from Pnakotus and the HP Lovecraft Literary Podcast), and Marty Jopson. They talk about topics including YSDC’s new Trail of Cthulhu scenario “The Long Con”, Alone Against the Flames, Terry Pratchett, and more. There’s also a Patreon account set up to fund their scones (and bandwidth) – Patreon backers and YSDC patrons get access to additional material. Clotted cream is not free, my friends.
There have also been new episodes the usual Lovecraftian podcasts:
- The Good Friends of Jackson Elias talked about Robert Aickman and especially his short story “The Hospice”.
- Ken and Robin continue to talk about stuff, this time covering what scared them as kids (for Ken it was the folktale “The King of Cats” ), Toronto’s (less than) mysterious tunnel, and the Irminsul, the Saxon’s magic coin-filled-log.
- The Miskatonic University Podcast (with Keepers Dan and Jon) talked about Sand Dwellers and 7th Ed. combat rules.
Finally, there’s a gravestone in Sterling, Massachusett’s Chocksett Cemetery for one Nathan Burpe, the epitaph of which says:
In Memory of Mr. Nathan Burpe, Died Sept 30, 1756 in Ye 25th Year of his Age.
“This man, wife and child in 14 days did die
His House left desolate – Being Ye whole family.”
Next to his gravestone are one for his wife Azubah and his infant son Elijah. That phrase – “his house left desolate” – has always stuck with me and I’ve though of it more this week. As previously noted, we lost our cat Aurora over the weekend. Yesterday she was joined by one of our other cats, Charcoal. He was a rescued stray, recovered as a kitten from a cat colony. Unlike his other siblings, he never acclimated to human company and spent much of his life hiding under or behind things (and I’m having trouble finding a good picture of him rather than his tail), but I’d like to imagine we offered him a somewhat more pleasant and safer home than he would have had otherwise. He had been ailing for a while, but his death so soon after Aurora’s unexpected passing (and compounded by other losses of late) has left our house feeling more than a bit desolate. Goodbye Charcoal.