Breakfast with Cthulhu, other podcast news, and another hard farewell

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.

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Aurora 2/1/08-3/21/15

There was in this singular caravan a little boy with no father or mother, but only a tiny black kitten to cherish. The plague had not been kind to him, yet had left him this small furry thing to mitigate his sorrow; and when one is very young, one can find great relief in the lively antics of a black kitten. So the boy whom the dark people called Menes smiled more often than he wept as he sate playing with his graceful kitten on the steps of an oddly painted wagon.

– HP Lovecraft, The Cats of Ulthar

 

R.I.P. Leonard Nimoy

I’ve mentioned my early affection for the television show In Search Of… more than once on the blog.  Today we’ve learned of the death of that program’s host Leonard Nimoy.  Obviously most people think of him first as Mr. Spock, but for me, I will always know him as the guy in a turtleneck reading half-baked theories and conjecture, which helped to fuel my young imagination, even if the show was an Ivory Soap ratio of bunk to truth.

Nevertheless, I was very moved today when I heard of his passing.  I’ll leave the obituaries for others, but I wanted to offer my posthumous thanks.  Good bye sir.  Good bye.

(And for something wholly unserious)

Hmmmm… maybe I should finish up my ‘In Search Of…’ meets the Dunwich Horror scenario?

Oliver

Sorry for the lack of updates of late. While I love gaming, sometimes other things are more important, and so the blog as taken a back seat to various issues. This is not a personal blog and I’m generally reluctant to post things here unrelated to the world of Lovecraftian gaming, but I wanted to take a moment to talk about something wholly different, our cat Oliver. If you don’t want to read the short obituary of a cat, don’t read on.

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