Look Around You is a series of short “modules” done by comedians Robert Popper and Peter Serafinowicz which satirize late-70s educational films. Here they present some important information about ghosts.

The Cremation of Sam McGee

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam ’round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he’d often say in his homely way that “he’d sooner live in hell.”

On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! through the parka’s fold it stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we’d close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn’t see;
It wasn’t much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.

And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o’erhead were dancing heel and toe,
He turned to me, and “Cap,” says he, “I’ll cash in this trip, I guess;
And if I do, I’m asking that you won’t refuse my last request.”

Well, he seemed so low that I couldn’t say no; then he says with a sort of moan:
“It’s the cursèd cold, and it’s got right hold till I’m chilled clean through to the bone.
Yet ’tain’t being dead–it’s my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you’ll cremate my last remains.”

A pal’s last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;
And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee;
And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.

There wasn’t a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,
With a corpse half hid that I couldn’t get rid, because of a promise given;
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: “You may tax your brawn and brains,
But you promised true, and it’s up to you to cremate those last remains.”

Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load.
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring,
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows– O God! how I loathed the thing.

And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;
And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;
And I’d often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.

Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay;
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the “Alice May.”
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum;
Then “Here,” said I, with a sudden cry, “is my cre-ma-tor-eum.”

Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;
Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;
The flames just soared, and the furnace roared–such a blaze you seldom see;
And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.

Then I made a hike, for I didn’t like to hear him sizzle so;
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow.
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don’t know why;
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.

I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: “I’ll just take a peep inside.
I guess he’s cooked, and it’s time I looked”; … then the door I opened wide.

And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;
And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: “Please close that door.
It’s fine in here, but I greatly fear you’ll let in the cold and storm–
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it’s the first time I’ve been warm.”

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

— Robert W. Service

Pumpkin Bread

3 1/2 C all purpose flour
4 tsp baking powder
1 1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking soda
2 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp freshly grated nutmeg
1 tsp ground ginger
1/2 tsp ground allspice
1/2 tsp ground cloves
2 C pumpkin puree (homemade or canned, not “pumpkin pie filling”)
1 C whole milk
2 tsp vanilla extract
1 C (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
2 C sugar
4 large eggs
2 C pecans, toasted, chopped (optional)

Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter and flour a 10-inch (3 quart) bundt pan or two 9 1/4 x 5 x 2 1/2-inch loaf pans.

Whisk together flour, baking powder, salt, baking soda, and spices in medium bowl. In small bowl, mix pumpkin, milk and vanilla. Using an electric mixer, beat butter in large bowl until creamy. Gradually beat in sugar until thoroughly incorporated. Add eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Beat pumpkin mixture and flour mixture alternately into butter mixture in 2 additions each, making sure to mix only until combined. Stir in pecans. Transfer to prepared pan(s).

Bake bread until tester inserted into center comes out clean, about 1 hour 10 minutes. Cool 5 minutes. Turn out onto rack and cool completely.

Can be prepared 2 days ahead. Wrap tightly in foil and let stand at room temperature. Can be frozen up to three months.

The Mad Hatter Meets Christmas – Adorable DIY Mad Hatter-esque top hats to use as holiday ornaments.

100 Most Depressing Movie Death Scenes – A supercut (apparently copyright-blocked in some countries, so you may need to use a proxy). BoingBoing has some additional suggestions in the comments.

Drunken Spider – Cute cocktail that looks like a spider passed out in your glass.

Straight Outta Surrey – “Chap-hop” by Mr. B. the Gentleman Rhymer. What is this I don’t even.

Unretouched Overlook Hotel Photo – The “vintage” photo of Jack Nicholson at the end of The Shining was a real retouched photo instead of a shot done for the film.

Owl Granny Squares – Easy crochet pattern. Make the colors less pastel and you have spooky owls. Change a couple of the triangles to the same color as the body and you have spooky bats.

A Very Gorey ASOIAFabet – Game of Thrones meets Gashleycrumb Tinies. Spoilers. (via xJane)

Spooky Sun Jars – Ostensibly for Halloween but obviously perfect for any time of year, these are a great alternative to candles.

DIY Spine T-shirt – Easy method for adding a skeletal spine to the back of a plain shirt.

Bat Head T-Shirt – Cute “giant hyperrealistic bat head” shirt. (Hat tip to Bruno)

To all my U.S. readers, I hope it is/was/will be wonderful.

(via Medium Large)

Get ready! Pretend to be a Time Traveler Day is/was/will be (depending upon your temporal situation) December 8!

Aaron Diaz, who writes the cyberpunkish Webcomic Dresden Codak, came up with the idea a few years ago, describing it thusly:

You must spend the entire day in costume and character. The only rule is that you cannot actually tell anyone that you are a time traveler. Other than that, anything’s game.

There are three possible options:

1) Utopian/cliché Future – “If the Future did a documentary of the last fifty years, this is how badly the reenactors would dress.” Think Star Trek: TNG or the Time Travelers from Hob. Ever see how the society in Futurama sees the 20th century? Run with it. Your job is to dress with moderately anachronistic clothing and speak in slang from varying decades. Here are some good starters:

– Greet people by referring to things that don’t yet exist or haven’t existed for a long time. Example: “Have you penetrated the atmosphere lately?” “What spectrum will today’s broadcast be in?” and “Your king must be a kindly soul!”

– Show extreme ignorance in operating regular technology. Pay phones should be a complete mystery (try placing the receiver in odd places). Chuckle knowingly at cell phones.

2) Dystopian Future – This one offers a little more flexibility. It can be any kind of future from Terminator to Freejack. The important thing to remember is dress like a crazy person with armor. Black spray painted football pads, high tech visors, torn up trenchcoats and maybe even some dirt here or there. Remember, dystopian future travelers are very startled that they’ve gone back in time. Some starters:

– If you go the “prisoner who’s escaped the future” try shaving your head and putting a barcode on the back of your neck. Then stagger around and stare at the sky, as if you’ve never seen it before.

– Walk up to random people and say “WHAT YEAR IS THIS?” and when they tell you, get quiet and then say “Then there’s still time!” and run off.

– Stand in front of a statue (any statue, really), fall to your knees, and yell “NOOOOOOOOO”

– Stare at newspaper headlines and look astonished.

– Take some trinket with you (it can be anything really), hand it to some stranger, along with a phone number and say “In thirty years dial this number. You’ll know what to do after that.” Then slip away.

3) The Past – This one is more for beginners. Basically dress in period clothing (preferably Victorian era) and stagger around amazed at everything. Since the culture’s set in place already, you have more of a template to work off of. Some pointers:

– Airplanes are terrifying. Also, carry on conversations with televisions for a while.

– Discover and become obsessed with one trivial aspect of technology, like automatic grocery doors. Stay there for hours playing with it.

– Be generally terrified of people who are dressed immodestly compared to your era. Tattoos and shorts on women are especially scary.

And that’s it. Remember, the only real rule is staying in character and try to fit in. Never directly admit you’re a time traveler, and make really, really bad attempts at keeping a low profile. Naturally, the dystopian future has a little more leeway. And for the record, I’ve already tried out all of these in real life, in costume. It is so much fun you want to pee yourself.

A Facebook event page is here.

I’m particularly fond of the idea of giving someone a phone number to call in 30 years. Given my tendency to truly commit to the bit, I’d be forced to keep the same number for 30 years, leaving strict instructions in my will if necessary…and wait.

If you’re a fan of this blog there’s an excellent chance you’ve already got appropriate attire hanging around in your closet (a Victorian ensemble, or maybe something that looks like castoffs from some horrible dystopian future). If not, there’s plenty of time to put together an “overshot the current fashions by a couple decades” outfit at your local thrift store; for best results, mix the periods and wear, say, saddle shoes and bell-bottoms.

You can be a lone time-traveler or get together a group of friends to be temporal tourists and clumsily try to blend in. Either way, get out there and make somebody’s day a little more surreal!

This lovely wunderkammer piece was done by the fabulous Propnomicon a couple of years ago, but it just bubbled back up on Pinterest.

It’s a “vampire heart” complete with stake hole, along with the offending stake; they’re packed in a wooden box and include a backstory involving a vampire that stalked Louisiana in the 1900s. His posts about it are here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.

He’s got photos of the finished prop and a few vague notes about the build (noting that it involved liquid latex and followed some techniques used to build sideshow gaffs), but unfortunately doesn’t have any pictures of the work in progress nor details about the construction. (A couple of his other posts indicate that he might build these on commission if you can’t live without one.)

Part of me is almost tempted to see whether it would be possible to achieve something similar by mummifying a pig heart (sometimes found at ethnic groceries; beef hearts are easier to find but they’re too big). I’ve covered DIY mummification previously, and if the heart were carefully trimmed of fatty tissue and well-packed with a drying agent it should get hard and leathery. The only thing I’m unsure of would be its long-term durability; treating it with a taxidermy rot preventive like Stop-Rot might help with that. Since the materials are fairly cheap, it might be worth an experiment.

Rob at BoingBoing said, “I’m calling it already: Windows 95 Tips is Blog of the Year,” and I sort of have to agree.

The site is nothing but tips, alert boxes, and screenshots, presented entirely without comment. They present a view of an operating system that is somewhat more…sinister…than I remember Windows 95 being.*

The site is only a month old and thus still pretty sparse, but every entry is a gem that chronicles a slow descent into madness. I’m definitely looking forward to future updates.

(Incidentally, it’s not noted anywhere on the site–which I sort of like, as it adds to the general sense of dislocation–but the creator is Neil Cicierega, who is also responsible for the Potter Puppet Pals.)

*Don’t get me wrong; Windows 95 was sinister, but it was more of a “incompetence mixed with utter disdain for the end user” vibe rather than something Lovecraftian. Either way, your soul got eaten.

This is a lovely, poignant short in which “a strange creature races against time to make the most important and beautiful creation of his life.”

From the description:

The Maker has screened at over 60 festivals and won 11 awards. For the latest news and updates, visit http://themakerfilm.com, like us at http://facebook.com/themakerfilm or follow http://twitter.com/themakerfilm

Contact Christopher Kezelos the Director of the Maker at http://themakerfilm.com/contact

The music score for The Maker is called ‘WINTER’ and was composed by Paul Halley. You can download it from his website by going to http://www.paulhalleymusic.com/albums/string-quartets

(via BoingBoing)

Catechism for a Witch’s Child

When they ask to see your gods
your book of prayers
show them lines
drawn delicately with veins
on the underside of a bird’s wing
tell them you believe
in giant sycamores mottled
and stark against a winter sky
and in nights so frozen
stars crack open spilling
streams of molten ice to earth
and tell them how you drink
a holy wine of honeysuckle
on a warm spring day
and of the softness
of your mother who never taught you
death was life’s reward
but who believed in the earth
and the sun
and a million, million light years
of being

— J. L. Stanley