Excerpt


HOPEWELL, MI – It has been said that human subcultures are fractally nested, and that there is no bottom. Pundits have also claimed that in the age of the internet, people with interests so specific and so far outside the mainstream can come together and commiserate in ways that would have once been impossible. Putting both of those ideas to the test is the emerging subculture of “benchwarmers.”

Despite what the name may suggest, “benchwarmers” are not people who are left on the sidelines during sporting events. As an anonymous “benchwarmer” put it in an interview with the Hopewell Democrat-Tribune, “we call ourselves ‘benchwarmers’ because we’re on the bleachers all the time.” In other words, the “benchwarmer” subculture is made up of people who regularly drink bleach.

One might think that, given bleach’s propensity to cause chemical burns, that such a subculture might go extinct after its first outing. However, the “benchwarmer” that spoke to the Democrat-Tribune disagreed. “We start with a very low concentration, just enough to get the taste and the burning sensation,” she said, “and then we gradually increase the percentage of sodium hypoclorite.” This accelerates the formation of scar tissue that protects the drinker from the full effects of the caustic chemical.

Gathering on web sites and forums like “The Bleachfields” or “Sodium Hypocrites,” the “benchwarmers” share their stories of internal injury, oral and coleorectal scarring, and different ways of diluting bleach so that its ingestion does not cause instant and painful death. The sites also maintain “Benchwarmer MVP” lists with information about fallen members of the subculture and the highest percentage of sodium hypoclorite they were able to ingest before death.

“Cloroxian1977 is still a legend on The Bleachfields,” said the anonymous source. “He was able to get up to a solution of 37% NaClO before his organs ruptured.” Our source maintains that the dream of a human being who is able to drink pure, undiluted bleach–100% sodium hypoclorate–remains the dream of the subculture.

Responding to criticisms that “benchwarming” is a suicidal fixation and most likely a manifestation of a mental illness like pica, the Democrat-Tribune‘s source became defensive. “It’s a very freeing, cleansing thing, and extremely important to our mental well-being,” she said. “People ingest dangerous amount of chemicals all the time, we are simply more open about it.”

At press time, the “benchwarmers” associated with The Bleachfields online forum were attempting to have their first in-person convention at the Southern Michigan University convention center. The head of that facilty told us that he would not be “party to a suicide pact” and had refused to let the space. In a response, the campus diversity officer blasted his concerns as “exclusionary” and “divisive.”

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Lapur Xianuende, an elven engineer formerly in the employ of Baron Hecoran, and Sustrai Xianuende, a dwarven mercenary hired to protect Hecoran Keep as the Baron consolidated his forces for a confrontation with his neighbor Baroness Ioxus. They met and fell in love, which resulted in the expulsion of Lapur from his family and the blacklisting of Sustrai from her unit. Forced to make ends meet as they could, the pair ended up fleeing into the wilds of northern Hecoran where they fell in with the bandit leader Mtos. Despite their circumstance, they managed to have seven children in four sets of twins:

Mailu (age 15)
Favoring his father, Mailu is already taller than all of his siblings at 15 but has inherited his mother’s incredible swarthiness with a growing beard that will one day be the envy of many a full-blooded dwarf. His strength and height have found him work as a longshoreman on Pexate’s rivers, felling trees even at his young age. He harbors a dream to become a soldier, though he lacks the money and martial skill to do so.

Harro (age 15)
Mailu’s twin, Harro favors his mother and has never grown any taller than her. Despite this, he has the slim build and features of an elf, and appears very like a rare halfling of Daqin, a people like the ogres and trolls on the verge of extinction. As such, he has joined a treveling carnival under the name “Arqin the Last Halfling from the East” and currently tours Pexate. His parents consider this a phase that he will grow out of, failing to see the unintentional pun therein.

Gezi (age 20)
Gezi favors his mother, being of average dwarvish height and build but with his father’s dazzlingly blonde and straight hair and delicate ear-points. Even so, he lives as a full dwarf in the settlement of Noaad near the Pexate-Layyia border and writes only occasionally of his work there as a miner and prospector.

Alkate (age 20)
Gezi’s twin, Lantza is between her parents’ heights, on the short side of the elven norm, with ears that are semi-pointed and wavy brown hair. Unable to fit in with anyone but her parents, she serves their band of bandits as a scout and a courier, gathering supplies and passing messages. She finds the work quite thankless and is rather desperate to find another elf-dwarf hybrid of similar appearance so that she can feel a greater sense of belonging.

Brankan (age 25)
Living in Toan, Brankan is studying to become a Priest of the Sepulcher under the Bishop-Baron of Toan. On the short side but still rather taller than his mother, his dwarf-like thick bushy blonde hair allows him to hide his delicately pointed ears and pass for human, while his taking of the cloth as a celibate man of the Creator will serve to disguise his inability to have children. Far and away his parents’ favorite, his studious and dull personality is constatntly held up as an example for the others despite the fact that Brankan clearly wants nothing to do with his parents.

Zaldi (age 25)
Brankan’s twin, she favors her father and has an elflike height and build with her mother’s black and curly hair and semi-rounded ears. Though she could pass for human, she instead lives as an elf and works as a waitress and occasional actress in the Elf Quarter of Aiov in the Barony of Varrett. The money she sends home does not make up for her parents’ stern disapproval of her lifestyle.

Lantza (age 30)
The sole survivor of Sustrai’s first difficult pregnancy; her twin Daic was stillborn. As tall as her father, but with her mother’s stout build, she is a mercenary in the city of Simnel and moonlights as a wrestler in the city’s famous but illegal Mud Pits. Despite the fact that she is an elf-dwarf hybrid and cannot have children of her own, her lack of a husband continually bedevils her parents who are always writing her with suggestions.

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“Okay, the category is Science, and the question is: Does Uranus have an aurora?”

“Hahahahaha! I don’t know, I’ve never checked! Bring me a mirror and give me a minute in the bathroom.”

“Fair enough. The answer is yes, but something tells me it’s mostly methane. Next card, History category: What did Dick Tuck do to Richard Nixon’s Chinatown train?”

“HAHAHAHAHA! Oh. My. GOD. Is that really someone’s name? How can you have a name like that and not change it? I have no idea what happened when he ran a train on Nixon, and I don’t WANT to know!”

“Card says that…he waved the train out of the station before Nixon was done. Ahem. Your turn. This one’s Arts Literature: At what time did Wee Willie Winkie run wild through the town?”

“This is starting to get a little spooky. Is it just me, or is this one SERIOUSLY perverted game of trivia?”

“Copyright 1984, but published in a factory built on an old Hustler Magazine burial ground.”

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The Taw, the last letter of the Hebrew alphabet, is used to describe a movable point in space, the size and hardness and luster of a pearl. It contains within it the exact mathematical opposite of every point in the known and living universe. Gazing into it is to invite madness. Sages have wasted away aeons tracking down the Taw wherever it has found itself and attempting to intuit truths about our world from viewing its opposite.

None of this, however, explains how the Taw appeared on eBay with an opening bid of 99¢ and a Buy It Now price of $19.99 (plus sales tax in California).

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Despite rumors to the contrary, ogres are a species apart and not simply very large goblins or orcs. Like orcs and goblins, ogres posess the ability to conduct photosynthesis through the green hue of their skin. Unlike them, though, ogres tend to be much larger: an adult ogre is usually 10 feet tall and in excess of 1000 lbs. They also have a decidedly simian build, with short and stocky legs to support their bulk but very long arms on which they can knuckle-walk to move faster.

The key differentiator between ogres and other sapients–though classifying ogres as sapients remains a matter of no small debate–is that ogres have never formed social groups larger that closely related bands. They understand and can speak a few words but have no language of their own so far as is known. This has led many to dismiss them as mere beasts, an evolutionary link between evolved sapients and their simian forebears.

This is in fact not the case. Ogre social organization is extremely complex, based around triumvirates of mature males that gather a band of mature females and immature males about them to live a mobile lifestyle of foraging and raiding. The males in the triumvirate routinely conspire against, challenge, and kill each other, an order that other sapients often use to take control of ogre bands. If someone is able to kill all three ogre band leaders, they are regarded by the others as the new leader.

Despite their limited language skills, ogres are masters of nonverbal communication and can converse in the Silent Tongue and sign language with a high degree of fluency. They are also extremely adaptable and excellent mimics: once exposed to the use and maintenence of metal weapons, for instance, they will practice those skills on their own. This is why most ogres encountered in latter days were well-armed and well-armored.

Unfortunately, the territory required for ogres to live in the wild was considerable, and as the nations of the world consolidated their borders, ogres found themselves squeezed out or in many cases deliberately killed. By the time of Uxbridge’s Anarchy in Pexate, for instance, ogres were extremely rare aside from a few captive bands belonging to powerful barons. The dawn of the modern age saw them all but extinct, confined to a few tracts of vast wilderness in Poccia and “sapient zoos” in Pexate and Layyia. Like the trolls of Ceres and the halflings of Daqin, ogres were simply unable to effectively adapt or oppose cultures in which organized warfare and professional soldiers were the norm.

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SENATOR ZEBULON T. MUDDLEFORD (D-FL): I like my hand. I’ll see you your “yes” vote on a highway appropriations bill and raise you one “yes” vote on a bridge to nowhere.

SENATOR RUTHERFORD L. CUBBS (R-NV): Page!

PAGE: Yes, Senator?

SENATOR RUTHERFORD L. CUBBS (R-NV): How many bridges in Senator Muddleford’s state equal the highway appropriation in the pot?

PAGE: 2.5, Senator.

SENATOR ZEBULON T. MUDDLEFORD (D-FL): Very well, “yes” votes on 2.5 bridges to nowhere.

SENATOR ALOSYIUS J. URSINE (W-IL): Is there even that much nowhere in you state?

SENATOR ZEBULON T. MUDDLEFORD (D-FL): We can always make some. Senator Ursine, are you going to ante up or fold?

SENATOR ALOSYIUS J. URSINE (W-IL): Getting too rich for my blood. Will you gentlemen accept an abstention on an ethics censure vote?

SENATOR RUTHERFORD L. CUBBS (R-NV): Throw in a “yes” vote on an authorization for the unconstitutional use of force and you’ve got a bet.

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“And so,” intoned Mwa the Mole gravely, “we take comfort in knowing that Mone the Mole died doing what he loved.”

Mone the Mole’s widow, Naabi the Mole, comforted her pups as Mwa the Mole continued his remarks.

“Digging tunnels and eating earthworms, those were Mone the Mole’s great passions. We all remember the stories about his tunnels, which seemed to get longer with each telling, and the fine earthworm sashimi he used to regurgitate from time to time.”

The pallmoles shuffled forward, bearing Mone the Mole’s mortal remains, still with bits of dirt from the cave-in and chunks of earthworm in his mouth. Mwa the Mola and Naabi the Mole were not sure if Mone the Mole had died from the cave-in or from choking, but either one counted as doing what he loved.

“And thus, we commend Mone the Mole to the air. Oxygen to oxygen, nitrogen to nitrogen.”

Gathering around the hole opened in the ceiling, the pallmoles reverently chucked Mone the Mole out of it.
moles “burying” their dead aboveground

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Sean saw it too late: his hiking partner had forgotten to douse the ashes of his campfire.

“Mike, wait!” he cried. But it was too late.

The high-caliber round put Mike down clean; he toppled face-first into the ashes, his blood quenching the embers that his fire bucket had not.

Half a mile away, atop a ranger watch tower, the bear regarded the scene through the lens of his 20x Leupold. His spotter nodded, and the bear ejected his 7.62mm brass into one outstretched paw. He then tucked it behind the band of his campaign hat.

“Only you,” he growled. “Only you.”

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“And if you stand here,” said the University of Northern Mississippi tour guide, “you can see the football stadium, the baseball field, and the student union all at the same time!”

She had led them onto a raised platform atop one of the four hills that made up the campus. While looking at the three visible landmarks simultaneously, an orienteer and soon-to-be freshman noticed a snaky pattern inlaid in brick below their feet. “What’s that?” she said, gesturing at the convoluted, folding-in-upon-itself design.

“Oh, that doesn’t mean anything that I’m aware of,” said the tour guide. “But the view is-”

She was interrupted by a loud harrumph from a nearby bench, where someone was sitting bundled up in a coat against the summer heat. “Doesn’t mean anything that you’re aware of?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s just a pretty symbol,” the tour guide said.

“I’ll have you know that is a labyrinth, designed after the famous Labyrinth of Chartres Cathedral, and one of the later expressions of a cultural shape that is innate throughout world history. From the Cretans to the Romans, to the prehistoric inhabitants of the Solovetsky Islands, the labyrinth–as distinct from the maze–has one of the richest cultural heritages of any symbol in history. This particular iteration is often thought to be used by pilgrims as a substitute for a costly and dangerous trip to the Holy Land!”

“Geez, it’s just a little squiggle,” the tour guide said. “Lighten up.” She led the group down the hill and away, with a sidelong look.

“Hmph.” The speaker took off their hat and jacket, shaking their snout and rubbing their horns. “Just a little squiggle to you, maybe. To a minotaur, it’s heritage. I bet you wouldn’t feel the same way if I said that Sigma Qoppa Nu was just a bunch of letters.”

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Q: Why was the triangular ratio unable to get a home loan?

A: Because it needed someone to cosine.

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