Communities have a habit of obsessing over breadcrumb trails. It’s an impulse within us that goes back far further than the internet. However, with the advent of social media, this hysteria has been easier to track. It’s impressive just how quickly these self-proclaimed “detectives” can get to work. You can always count on teams of basement dwellers to decode any stray ARG. As I’ve recently stated, this can be a great way of engaging a fan community. That’s all just marketing though, in essence. Deep in each of these explorers’ hearts must be a wish that something more hides in the folds of mystery.… [continue reading]
Comics intimidate me.
There’s nothing like almost a full century of universe-building to make you feel like you’re at the center of some huge, complex web of references and in-jokes designed to keep the insiders in and the outsiders out.
When I saw the first issue of Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur, I’d not heard of either character before and imagined that there’d not be any references to miss. As if I needed more proof that the world of comic books has a high barrier to entry for a pedantic completionist like me, I was wrong.
After reading #1, I realized it was full of allusions to past releases that I had no idea existed.… [continue reading]
On Tuesday 20th December, at 5:30 pm GMT I stood up and stretched, working out a crick in my back which had settled after 9 hours in the same chair.
The work call had just ended, with my next post set up and scheduled, ready to go the next day automatically.
“@Ben__Mulholland Hi Ben Mulholland”
This message from Gabriele Palmer seemed a little odd, mainly because I had (and still have) a paltry amount of followers – I’m not important enough to make spam worthwhile or to inspire any real interest in striking up a conversation out of the blue.… [continue reading]
I’ve worn glasses since I was four years old. I’ve watched TV from birth.
Some of my fondest memories come from getting up before the sunrise to watch the gradually improving sequence of cartoons that were broadcast from 5am onwards. The Tweenies, The Hoobs, Arthur. All watched from the carpet, 2 feet away from the screen.
Having older parents, I was late getting new technology. So, the first computer we had in the house was a square clunky Windows laptop my dad got given for remote work. I remember, on the days where he was out on a sales call and I was home sick from school, trying to find my way around the labyrinthine internet on a connection that was only fast enough to transmit emails at the speed of physical mail.… [continue reading]
Art and curation left in the hands of scripts and algorithms is fascinating, and nowhere more accessible than when on Twitter. There are a handful of bots that tweet varied and interesting art. Art that makes you wonder how useful humans are anyway, other than for coding thousands of these things.
Some bots on this list drip out material from a database, while some procedurally generate art, or mash up existing material in new ways.
“What the fuck is that twat with a laptop doing?”
Ah, Grimsby charm, you’ve got to love it. Bet it’s some idiot in a beany and shoes far too high-grade for the sweatshop turtleneck he’s draped across a frame sorely lacking sustenance other than the outrage of the internet.
Except it wasn’t. He was talking about me.
And in that moment I felt homeless.
Now, I’m not trying to spin a “woe is me, I don’t belong anywhere” story. I grew up in a town (and family) of little sympathy for people who whine and moan about how bad they’ve got it.… [continue reading]
Secret Cave has been a quiet dwelling since the turn of New Year. Indeed, only seven days into it, time taken off in this period is somewhat natural and understandable. It’s been the case for the two Bens after all, both of whom have had swathes of personal and professional flotsam to attend to. As a freer agent however, I would usually have posted a couple of things up by now. Truth is, something terrifying has reared its head; something I didn’t expect until at least my fifties. For the past week, I have been suffering immense hearing damage.
I’m going to try and use this as a jumping off point for talking about a few things. … [continue reading]
A middle aged couple come back from the supermarket. His gut’s hanging over his tracksuit bottoms, necking a can of strong beer.
A pigeon flies over the trees that cover up rows on rows of 10 story tower blocks, Soviet era. Clapped-out 1970s Russian sedan parked on the pavement.
Stubbing a cigarette, the door downstairs chimes as an old Russian lady fumbles inside, shopping bags bulging.
Earlier this morning, a postman came by with a bag full of promotional leaflets marked U.S. Mail. People still carry around those old plastic bags branded with American cigarette company logos, and my wife tells me these were hot stuff back when the Russians hated the Americans and her step-dad was locked up for wearing Nike trainers as capitalist contraband.… [continue reading]
Hear the writers discuss this subject on the Secret Cave Podcast (it comes eventually)!
Do you remember that twat who cut you off at the junction? Perhaps, if you’re lucky enough to have avoided vehicle ownership, you can recall that sour-faced tart who rushed you at the zebra crossing. What about that utter cunt who I.D’d you despite your clear responsible adulthood? Don’t get me started on that shit-stick in front of you at the chippy, who orders enough fish suppers for a royal banquet (when you merely require a singular tray of chips).
The world is populated by a rich circulation of assholes. … [continue reading]
At first I was going to make this piece an overview of trailers in their entirety, using two from this year as examples. Instead, it occurred to me that i’d simply be stealing an upcoming subject from fellow writer, Ben Mulholland. As such, I thought it more befitting of me to look in depth at the two examples. One staggeringly bad, another breathtakingly good, there are a lot of meaty tangents to go off on from both.
Trailers, on the whole, are mere promotional tools to rally the populous. … [continue reading]