Given this 25 year gap between prizes I'd resigned myself to not seeing anything free coming my way until (at least) 2033 – when I'd be too middle-aged, conservative & miserable to appreciate anything but a year's subscription to Ireland's Own or a case of Imperial Leather.

Happily for me (and my grumpy future self) fate seems to now have adopted a more generous approach. Less than 12 months after my last stroke of fortune came news that the fabulous Ruth Crean, of the equally fabulous Nice Day Designs, had pulled my name from a custom-made hat and would bestow on me a garment of my choosing.

Here's what I chose (that's not me modeling by the way, it's Ruth's fella, the lovely John Elliot):

I will never, ever, ever take it off. Never. I plan to be buried in it.

Anyway, pop over (this instant) to Ruth's web-home and buy some customised beautifulness. Or, if you're in the 'hood, stroll down Bedford Row of a Sunday and see her, and her gorgeous clothes, in 3-D.

On February 27th (yes, this very day) last year I 'penned' a Manky Toy post about the delectable Maureen – a doll beautifully described by Kirstie (of Beaut.ie) as "Mullingar Beef from the Ankles Up".

In said post I also admitted to having been (when a short-trousered youth) the slightly ashamed owner of two dolls – one black and one "raggedy":

The raggedy one was called "Judy" and was quite treasured. I well remember going into hospital to get my tonsils out and worrying what the other guys in the ward would think of a pale kid with what was clearly a girl's doll. Being an enterprising soul, however, I squeezed a pair of Action Man boots on Judy's feet, popped a sock on her head as a manly hat, and thereby created what I thought a most cunning disguise. I toyed with the idea of drawing dots of stubble on her cloth face but resisted for fear of doing her permanent damage.

Judy (who now spends her days in my niece's care) was but one of a large and motley collection of stuffed toys that were dutifully lined up in bed beside me every night.

There was a Golliwog (he and I unaware, at the time, of insidious racism); a bipedal dog in blue trousers (who'd returned with my father from a Spanish holiday); a small, male Judy-a-like (who quickly became her sweet and wholesome brother "Jack"), and a (or should I say the) Cookie Monster. That was the main gang – though their numbers were routinely swelled by a substantial supporting cast of soft anthropomorphised animals.

The thought of any of them falling out of my bed during the night and lying (shivering and alone) on the cold floor was enough to fill me with horror. To guard against this potential tragedy I would lie on my side and press myself flat against the bedroom wall, thus allowing my furry/floppy friends the space they needed.

Though this arrangement meant that night-time "pop outs" were infrequent, it didn't save them from the grim results of my regular bed-wetting. Whatever reservations they may have had about being routinely covered in urine, their love for me never seemed to waver – as evidenced by the fact that they'd always clamber for the best spot in the bed once night rolled around once more.

That lengthy preamble is merely intended to set the scene, and to explain why I'm (still) very easily moved by the idea of abandoned toys. A case in point – I find it impossible to sit through Toy Story 2's "When Somebody Loved Me" sequence without weeping profusely like a big girl. It's devastating…

Though I profess sensitivity, however, I have (of late) been quite the "bad parent" to the numerous manky toys this blog has celebrated (or slagged off) over the last 14 months or so.

The original intention (as stated in the very first Manky Toy Monday post) was a noble one:

After being recorded on fustar.info the toys shall be returned to charity shops, allowing the great cycle of consumption to begin again in a worthy environment.

A combination of laziness and forgetfulness has meant that this promise has never been fulfilled…and so they gather dust (sad and unloved) in plastic bags under the stairs.¹

By way of small compensation for this shameful neglect I've decided (after consulting with Sir Damien of Mulley) to polish them up, dust them down, and take them out on a grand adventure. By that I mean – a fantabulous trip to the 3rd annual Irish Blog Awards in the Alexander Hotel, Dublin. There they will be awarded, as spot prizes, to lucky (or unfortunate?) attendees.

To make my manky children more attractive to their new mammies and daddies I'll do a spot of customising on them – giving them an (un)official seal of (un)authenticity, or covering them in gold stars…or some such. They'll be pimped up to the nines and ready to be won.

I expect their new owners to treat them with love, compassion and respect. Anyone found chucking one in a hotel bin will be stared at most severely.

This is a once a lifetime opportunity. Their like will never be seen again.

Update – 28/02/08:

Speak of the devil. I but mention her name and in pops an email from the big sister in London showing Judy surrounded by my niece's many stuffed cats.

She looks happy and well-adjusted in her adopted home, despite the weird blue figure (the sister's beloved childhood toy as it happens) looming menacingly in the background. A life of not being urinated on seems to agree with her.

P.S: I also want to take the opportunity to give an (unrelated) enthusiastic shout-out to Dara Burke and all the gang helping to organise the splendid Cork French Film Festival. It runs from the 28th Feb – 7th March and full of cinematic delights it is. Best of luck to all concerned.

1. Christ…there go those tears again. [back]

Like most sensible people I loathe and abhor Mondays. Mondays take my weekend jauntiness and kick it in the face – before setting fire to it and throwing it down the cellar stairs. By way of tribute (or, actually, whatever the opposite of "tribute" is) to this rank and foul day I'm here to set you all some homework.

On a recent Saturday (now there's a good day) Ms. Sinéad Gleeson was kind enough to say nice things about Dreadful Thoughts – this blog's new horror writing and horror reading project.¹ Though I took the liberty of choosing the first offering for the "Story Club" (Fitz-James O'Brien's "What Was it?") Sinéad was quick off the mark in suggesting who/what the focus of story number two should be:

Given my obsession with those BBC Ghost stories, my suggestion will have to be something by MR James.

As I always say (or, at least, say in very specific circumstances…like now) you can't go wrong with M. R. James. As Sinéád didn't specify a particular James story I'll take a further liberty and pick one out of the hat myself.

2) "Casting The Runes" (pdf), (html)

It's a favourite of mine (for reasons that will become obvious later) and it's now your assignment for the week. Read it, enjoy it, think about it, and let's meet back here on Thursday the 14th at 8 p.m. (ish) to chew it over.²

P.S: fustar.info has survived the recent Blog Awards cull and now finds itself "short listed" (the lists are still quite long) in "Best Blog", "Best Blog Post" (for this one), and "Best Popculture Blog". My humble thanks to all those who gave me their upturned thumbs.

1. For details of what it's all about see here. [back]
2. Oh and keep the suggestions coming. [back]

While the fústar/Tuppenceworth crossover FIZZOO!¹ slowly gathers momentum (quietly bubbling and fizzing away) I thought I'd fill an idle hour by launching another partially baked project.

Though I have, as regular visitors may be aware, a great affection for horror in all its many forms and guises (literary, cinematic, comic-booky, video-gamey etc) I only rarely find myself experiencing that delicious frisson of dreadful pleasure that the best horror can elicit.

That's not to say that I don't enjoy the "Boo!" factor of much mainstream (cinematic) horror. Sudden, unexpected jolts of shock and surprise are always fun…at least in this context. What the exact psychological mechanics of this "enjoyment" actually are is a (much-discussed) issue that need not detain us here. I've my own thoughts about why people part with their hard-earned mula to be terrified or (in the case of torture/body horror) disgusted but have no real desire to submit this phenomenon to prosaic (banal) analysis.

A feature of such (entertaining) "Boo!" horror is that feelings of fear/anxiety tend to fade quickly from memory when the credits roll (or with the break of day). While this is (on one level) comforting, I often find the speedy return to "normality" disappointing! I want to be freaked out, unnerved, shaken up, challenged (etc) and I want those feelings to last.

Lingering feelings of dread (and that's a key word in terms of the project) might not, on the face of it, seem all that desirable but they can be liberating and intoxicating (at least for me). Dread can, after all, bypass the rational mind and punch you where it hurts – in deeply-buried and (dodgy word this) "primal" fear centres. Being thus penetrated (ooer) can temporarily banish the burdens of the quotidian and give us glimpses of the sublime (with the end product possibly being the kind of "taken out of oneself" sensation people often associate with "feeling alive").

I could ramble on like this for hours but I'll cut to the chase. The simple aim of this little project (provisionally called "Dreadful Thoughts") is to get "us" reading and writing horror (since written horror is what's most capable of giving me the heebie-jeebies). This will work as follows…

1) Dreadful Thoughts Story Club: Once a week/fortnight (or whenever takes my fancy) a short horror story will be chosen (by me or a reader) for the club. Anyone who feels the urge can then go off and read it before returning here for friendly discussion, debate and dissection (preferably with the assistance of a glass of wine or two). I'll be putting up separate posts for this purpose and this is where all comments can go.

The one restriction (other than the focus being exclusively on short stories) is that the chosen tale must be available to read online in its entirety (ensuring that everyone can access it). Links to a few useful story archives can be found at the bottom of this post.²

2) The second part of the Dreadful Thoughts project is more demanding (and may over-burden those already struggling with FIZZOO! scripts). Given that horror benefits (in my opinion) from the limited space and tight restrictions of the short story form I thought it'd be fun to try and write our own. To make this doable and easily readable (for people with limited time on their hands) I suggest a 500 word limit on each story.

This might seem to limit the tales to mere vignettes or snapshots of horror but such severe restrictions can be advantageous – focusing the mind and forcing the narrative to be peeled back to its essentials. I'll (hopefully) kick this off next week with my own offering about a stain! That may, for good or ill, set the tone and kick-start some contributions from you dear readers. Go ahead. Scare me shitless.

As for the Dreadful Thoughts Story Club the first choice is (unsurprisingly) mine. My pick comes from the Poe-like pen of Munster's own Fitz-James O'Brien (1828-1862). Here it be:

1) "What Was it?" (pdf) (html) (Google Books)³

Off ye go now and do yer homework. We'll reconvene in a few days to pour over the story's bones.

Links:

Classic Horror Short Stories

Horror Masters

Update 04/02/08 – The Story Club shall meet around 8-ish this coming Wednesday to discuss "What Was it?". Hope that suits everyone.

P.S: The blog has received several nominations in the Irish Blog Awards long lists: Best Blog, Best Blog Post (x2), Most Humorous Post, Best Designed Blog, Best Arts & Culture Blog & Best Pop-Culture Blog. Greetings Earthlings got a couple of nods too. Many thanks to all who voted.

1. A girl's comic by boys…and maybe some girls. [back]
2. If anyone knows of other interesting sources then please pop them in the comments section and I'll add them in as we go along. [back]
3. From H. P. Lovecraft's Book of the Supernatural: 20 Classics of the Macabre [back]

Yes, the 3rd Irish Blog Awards are almost upon us (provisionally, Feb 23rd) and they’ll no doubt be met with joyful abandon (and shouts of “Hey Nonny Nonny No!�) up and down the country.

If you’d like to vote for this here blog, its (currently sleepy) companion Greetings Earthlings, or any of the other excellent bloggy wonders out there then pop along here and get busy voting.

The format this year is quite different, with lengthy judging replacing a popular vote and measures taken to prevent spamming, so have a careful read of the instructions before you put virtual pen to virtual paper.

Nominations close at 9pm on Friday, January the 18th.

I thank you.

Message ends.