So, I do a lot of writing (mystery solved for people wondering how I can reply so fast and so much on Lemmy!) and decided to create a fun little community, Tales from the Cryptic Lemmy.
Mostly a showcase for “crappy” pulp writers like myself. I figured I’d leave the good writing for the better communities out there.
I’m hoping the new community will be all about celebrating and participating in crappy pulp horror writing, where people can just have fun with it and not worry about perfection. It’s all about embracing the weird, over-the-top, and messy, without taking ourselves too seriously.
My first story for this new community is The Man Who Hunted Sea Lions on Lemmy.
Inspired by the drama I stirred up in a politics community, where now everyone seems convinced I’m some Russian troll mining “Russian bitcoinz” and spreading propaganda on Lemmy. Why? Because I dared to support voting third party. And wow, some of them took it personally—parody accounts, stalking, and even posting stats on how much I comment. Hateful DMs, weird comments—the works. Oy!
Anyway, I learned a new term: “sealioning.” Never heard of it before Lemmy, but after asking what it meant (several times), I got banned from that community for three days… for sealioning! Still not sure how my posts fit that, but whatever—it gave me the idea for a fun little story in my new community. So, it worked out!
I’ll keep cranking out and posting stories there, and maybe—just maybe—others will join in on the madness!
And if not? No sweat. I’ll keep pumping out these craptacular tales, hurling them into the endless void of cyberspace, where they’ll float like ghosts in the dead ether, waiting for someone, somewhere, to stumble upon them. :)
Oh man, see? That’s the EXACT line my new story starts with. Ok, fine, just know that in my next story (that you won’t read), it’s about a guy with a very similar name to yours, but it’s not you. And since you won’t be reading it, I feel fairly confident that you aren’t going to be offended.
And you know what? I totally get it if you’re not feeling up to diving into the first story. I mean, it’s only about the ever-so-fascinating shimmering thread between reality and unreality, transracialism, fungus existentialism, drugs, truth, justice, and the American way.
Oh wait, hold on—crap! That’s my next story, not the first.
Dammit, see what happens when a whole team of Russians, collecting our precious Russian Bitcoinz, shares one account to spread propaganda and tear apart the very fabric of America through Lemmy and then tries to post?
Or wait, am I bot now? No, no, no. I think the last theory was that I was a 12-year-old doing this in between eating spaghetti and watching cartoons while at one of my divorced parent’s houses. Was it Mom’s house or Dads?
I can’t remember. Ugh. So complicated to keep this huge propaganda machine going!