Monday, July 27, 2009

You just got SERVED by Electric-Boogalon!


Ahoy, Crypto Scouts!

Whatta beauty! I thought what I saw on this particular excursion was a giant ALLIGATOR, but further analysis revealed something quite different. It is my belief, based on the monster's upright position, rampaging nature, and building-atop location, that I've caught another KAIJU sighting. My second in a scant two weeks!

As you can see by the blurred mob in motion at the bottom of the photograph, on-lookers were moving in every direction... presumably looking for a safe haven from the spinning behemoth. Are they concerned that the monster will become dizzy and topple off?

What the panicking crowd doesn't realize is that "Electric-Boogalon" is probably staging a dance-off to keep a greedy developer from tearing down the local community center. Or just showing off. Hopefully more kaiju will show up for some poppin' and lockin'. Because when they do... it's on! Perhaps KARAOKEGON will grace us with an inspirational performance.

Let's just hope they don't trample the community center in the process...

Cryptically yours,

*The Crypto-Scout




Post-Script: However, I am inspired (inspired indeed), to take up a quest for the World's Largest Gator. Crikey!

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Friday, July 24, 2009

Thrall of the Mountain King...

Gnome Sweet Gnome? Hardly.

Ahoy, Crypto Scouts!

Could my seething hatred for the wee beasties stem from my allergy to fungus? It's doubtful. They're tumor-like malignancy is all the reason I need. When there's no more room in Hell, the Gnomes will sprout up in our lawns & gardens, and taunt us quietly from their "stationary" positions. Think I'm a paranoid whistle-blower or an intolerant Gnome-basher? Fools. Watch this newly unearthed docu-horror to witness the unimaginable Evil yourself...



Consider yourself warned.

Cryptically yours,

*The Crypto-Scout

Post-Script: Stay tuned for future Crypto-Logs, exhibiting some of the evil Gnome specimens I've captured, and detailing the Lawn/Garden Gnomes variously evil subspecies, evil motives, and equally evil feeding methods. Evil!

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No Gnome is good Gnome.


Ahoy, Crypto Scouts!

I have a very serious matter to address with you today, my faithful readers and recruits. Very few are aware of the ominous threat looming about our communities, our homes. A danger so insidious, the unknowing individual is completely unaware of just how dangerously insidious the insidious danger actually is.

I'm referring to... LAWN GNOMES.

Lawn Gnomes (or Garden Gnomes) are neither animal, mineral, or vegetable. The spring up out of the ground in the shape of stalagmites, mushrooms, gnotty roots, or other small naturally-occurring formations. This is what I like to refer to as their "larval stage". Luckily, the gestating Gnome's cuspidate cranium has taken shape at this "point" (get it?) in their development and their wicked facial features have already started to burst forth, making themselves somewhat recognizable to the trained eye...

^ More often than you would think, conjoined Gnomes will develop simultaneously. If the more dominant one doesn't absorb the other, they will grow into what appears to be two distinct creatures. In reality, they function as a single organism, giving the appearance of Gnome sweethearts or co-gardeners. Twice the evil!

^ One of the Gnome's many weapons is its hideous shriek. The unnatural sound is used to inflict terrible pain on its victims, and to paralyze and hypnotize weaker forest fauna, who are forced to carry out the Gnome's bidding.

^ The wizened expression, gentle features, and grandfatherly facial hair seems to be a product of evolutionary design. Folklore and blessed holiday traditions have conditioned humans across the globe to trust a white beard and red hat. The Gnome uses this innocent and sweet camouflage to its advantage, as it waits patiently for the right moment to FEED.

After their features and function fully form, the Gnomes secrete a mucusy coating all over their epidermis. This quickly hardens and encases them in a protective exo-skeleton/cocoon/cookie crust, or what I like to refer to as their "pupal stage". How they end up in marketplaces, ready for purchase and transport (and eventual "hatching") is still a mystery. A mystery I hope to solve... and soon. The world needs to know, before it's TOO LATE.

Cryptically yours,

*The Crypto-Scout

"Look, you fools. You're in danger. Can't you see? They're after you. They're after all of us. Our wives, our children, everyone. They're here already. YOU'RE NEXT!" - Dr. Miles J. Bennell


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Wednesday, July 22, 2009

A whale of a tale & it's all true, I swear by my tattoo...

Ahoy, Crypto Scouts!

Here be Monsters! It's difficult to deduce from the snapshots above, but the sea monster (See? Monster!) I spotted was quite the WHOPPER! About the size of a small submersible, I'd guesstimate. It uses its lamp-like lure (AKA "Angler's dangler") to allure seafood-seeking patrons... and just when an unsuspecting scamp, hungry for scampi, comes scampering over... GULP!

Could this be the fabled Blowfat-Glowfish I heard tales about as a wee cabin boy? Why was this denizen of the briney deep so far from the dark depths of Davy Jones' locker? What IS that mystery piece you get at Long John Silver's... Is it chicken or fish, or some sort of genetically-engineered hybrid or mythical beast? I wasn't about to venture near enough to ask. These mysteries will have to remain as mysterious as the sea herself.

This fish tale, ya scurvy land-lubbers, is at an end... FOR NOW.

Cryptically yours,
*The Crypto-Scout


UPDATE! After some thought, I've determined that an expedition into the belly of the beast just may be the adventure of a lifetime. Now to figure out how to get inside... in one piece.

"Be careful! Some of the big fish can swallow you whole."
"Swallow my what?"


UPDATE 2.0! I've formulated a preliminary course of action. Here is how I plan on getting SWALLOWED in 3 simple steps:

Stage 1] Lather up from head to toe with a full bucket (at the very least) of CHUM.
Stage 2] Insult the deep-sea beast (Note: must rethink "Your mother was a bottom dweller!"), and see if she takes the bait.
Stage 3] Promise to not get any in her eyes or gills.


UPDATE 3.0! Make that "6 simple steps"...

Stage 4] Once inside, lash together a rudimentary raft out of the sea monster's stomach contents.
Stage 5] Set up BASE CAMP!
Stage 6] Initiate "Observation Mode", and predict that "we're gonna need a bigger stomach-contents-raft".


View Blowfat-Glowfish? in a larger map
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Friday, July 17, 2009

NOT for the Chicken-hearted...


Ahoy, Crypto Scouts!

After my harrowing experience tracking and ultimately encountering the "Fowlociraptor" in the Western Michigan woods, I decided to record the chickenthrope's likeness via artist interpretation. It's not every day we stare Death in the face-beak. I think it's fairly clear from this sketch just how DANGEROUS my situation was...

The avian's eyes are front-facing, obviously those of a predator. A deep intelligence is lurking behind those binocular orbs... an unwavering gaze that stared INTO MY VERY SOUL. The plumage is ruffled, but not from preening. Fowlociraptor's stance is aggressive here, curious, unafraid. I knew better than to look away or run. It would only be enticed to give chase, wattle swaying, and hungry for a cock-fight. After studying me for a moment (which seemed to last a lifetime), the "pollo maligno" turned and strutted away, out of sight. But NEVER out of the darkest reaches of my nightmares.

I "played chicken" with a rare beastie and lived to Monster Bait another day.

Cryptically yours,
*The Crypto-Scout

"So you know... try to show a little respect." - Dr. Alan Grant

Truer words were never spoken.

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Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Boom Boom! Acka-lacka-lacka Boom!

Ahoy, Crypto Scouts!

Normally seen on Monster Island off the coast of Japan, or stomping through the streets of Tokyo, KARAOKEGON was spotted on American soil by yours truly (a World Tour perhaps?). I snapped these photos during one of his ear-shattering solo performances. To us puny humans, the behemoth's call may sound like contruction equipment smashing into each other, but to his fellow KAIJU, it's a toe-tapping good time. AND he doesn't even need a microphone!

Cryptically yours,

*The Crypto-Scout

"A shadow from the sky, much too big to be a bird... A screaming crashing noise, louder than I've ever heard..." - WAS (NOT WAS)

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Monday, July 13, 2009

The Crypto-Scout Who Cried WereLOLf!

Ahoy, Crypto-Scouts!

Whilst scanning through my fan mail, I came across an alarming missive or three. Here's the strange series of correspondence in its entirety...

Dearest Crypto-Scout,
Long-time fan, first-time writer.I will make a feast of your entrails! I'm getting ahead of myself. Pardon my enthusiasm. I will elucidate. Ahem... In one of your recent blog entries (which are fabulously illuminating BTW... LOVE them), you demonstrated skepticism in the existence of my fellow bipedal canid brethren. I assure you, we DO in fact exist, and there WILL be a day of reckoning for your insolent propaganda against The Brotherhood!
I WILL make a feast of your entrails,
*The
WereLOLf

XOXOXO

Mr. The WereLOLf,
I assume you're referencing THIS Crypto-Log Entry
where I failed to track down and verify the DogMan of Kalamazoo. Not once did I claim DISBELIEF in "your kind", only that I had not discovered any PROOF during my expedition. Thanks for the interest in my research.
Cryptically yours,
*C-S

Dearest Crypto-Scout,
Let me see if I grok your meaning... A cryptid must be discovered by YOU in order for them to EXIST??? Your insolence is only exceeded by your arrogance. And what do you mean "your kind"? I find your use of condescending quotation marks downright infuriating. And insulting. AND possibly even RACIST.
I'll save your wicked tongue for LAST,
*The WereLOLf
XOXOXO

Mr. The WereLOLF,
I'm taken aback by your accusations. Although I believe in the possible existence of bipedal canines, I'm starting to doubt that YOU are real. Cryptids are notoriously elusive and spend their time avoiding human contact... NOT sending fan mail. I therefore deem that you are a HOAX. Sorry for the distressing news. I can only hope that you'll find a way to carry on with this stigma.
Cryptically yours,
*C-S

My New Arch-Nemesis,
Personal attacks! Does your insensitivity know no bounds??? Consider yourself on THE LIST. The "Disembowelment? Check YES or NO" list. I'll let you agonize over which of the two possibilities I will choose. And NOW, I will let you agonize over the FACT that I will check "YES"! This is only the beginning of the agony that you will suffer. Expect another dissatisfied letter from me in the near future. I will not warn you WHEN to expect it either. Agonize over THAT as well.
Disembowelment? YES!...
*The WereLOLf
P.S. I have purposefully left off my trademark "hugs & kisses" so you know that we are no longer busom buddies. Also, I'm seriously considering ordering a Three-Wolf-Moon shirt, so my wolfen power will be increased CUBICALLY. Beware the Curse of the WereLOLf!


Despite being fairly confident this is all a sad attempt to kickstart a silly internet meme (see HERE, HERE, and especially HERE), I'm considering calling an old colleague, the Ex-Luchador-turned-MonsterPuncher, EL CRYPTO, for protection. I don't approve of El Crypto's violent revenge-fueled methods, but a Monster Baiter can't be too careful. AND he's a sharp dresser.

Cryptically yours,
*The Crypto-Scout

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Friday, July 10, 2009

Ladies and Gentlemen! Step right up! Hurry, hurry, hurry!

Ahoy, Crypto-Scouts,

I was dismayed to discover the closing of a fine establishment, the Adventurers Club (more details HERE!). It was a place for explorers and adventurers (like yours truly) to relax, exchange tales of expeditions and encounters, gaze upon rare artifacts and memorable photographs, converse with an upholstered Yakoose (part yak and part moose), and sample spirits of various sophistication and flavor.

In an ongoing investigation to find a club with a comparable ambiance, I, the Crypto-Scout, mounted an expedition into dangerous territories. What I discovered is the tale I will now impart to you.


CIRCUS CIRCUS:

The sign near the facade of the structure indicated that this was a place for Gentlemen. I wasn't wearing a tie, but my collared shirt was buttoned and tucked in, my socks were pulled high, I had a clean hankie in my pocket, and my manners are QUITE gentlemanly, if I do say so myself. What mysteries would be revealed within? What Magix would be invoked? How many Wonders of the World would I count? Which busking, geekery, and otherwise unusual showbiz talents would be produced for my amazement? Would I dare to face the challenge of the "funhouse"? I do dare. Am I mad enough to enter this world of darkness? You bet.

Upon entering, I was "greeted" by a burly man (the Strong Man or just a Roustabout?... hard to say) who stared down menacingly, invoking that glorious "fight or flight" response in me that us Adventurers hold so dear. There were 3 "rings" on raised stages inside the main attraction area, where a few contortionists and trapeze artists (mostly solo, but some duo acts) were dazzling the crowd with death-defying (and even virtue*blush*defying) feats of derring-do. I didn't see any clowns exactly (I did spot a hobo), but the sparse, yet enthusiastic, crowd was enraptured with the Burlesque-ian acrobatics on display. A clown's buffoonery would only break the spell.

One of the bodyglitter-bespeckled belly (?) dancers took me by the hand and escorted me to an even-more-vacant vicinity and proceeded to whisper untold secrets into my curious ear. Was she a gypsy princess? "You wanna go into the back and get your FREAK on?" she inquired. Of course! The sideshow! I knew a seedier carnival such as this would contain a gallery of Freaks. I merely needed to gain their trust and invitation. I answered her with a resounding affirmative "Do I?!" and followed her to a darkly-lit section behind a curtain. My eyes probed the shadows for signs of a unicorn (if only!), Fiji mermaid, dog-faced boy, or other unnaturally grotesque specimen/s as I reached for my trusty Crypto-Cam.

"Pictures will cost ya extra," proclaimed my perfumed escort, who was appearing to grow impatient. I asked for the price of admission into the Freak Show (and for photographic documentation rights) and was flabbergasted at the exorbitant quote she gave me. The marvels just beyond my grasp must be TRULY marvelous at those prices, but my lack of funding just wouldn't allow this step into the unknown. I thanked her anyway, apologized for her inconvenience, avoided her stare (the gypsy Evil Eye???), and made my way to the exit, past the glowering Burly Man. My pace quickened. I'll have to venture into the Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum (obvious, I know) for a potential glimpse at a real Fiji mermaid instead (EDIT: or maybe not :( ).

And what of snake charming, sword swallowing, or even balloon twisting? Were they included with the entry fee into CIRCUS CIRCUS' big top? All extra, I had been assured.

Cryptically yours,
*The Crypto-Scout


View Circus Circus in a larger map

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Thursday, July 9, 2009

The lost tales of Br'er Jackalope: Part 2


Ahoy, Crypto Scouts!

Below is an excerpt from one of the few known surviving Br'er Jackalope tales...


THE TALE!
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"One morning, wily Br'er Fox was layin' low amongst the roadside briar, all wily-like. He was just waitin' for breakfast to come hoppin' along and drop into his scrawny lap. And soon enough, who came a boundin' down the lane? None other than good ol' Br'er Jackalope... carefree and whistlin' a merry tune through his big bucked lagomorph incisors. Br'er Fox waited, as only a Br'er Fox can, for EXACTLY the right time to pounce on his unsuspectin' breakfast. But as he sprang from cover, his bush-tail was caught fast in the thorny thicket of the briar patch.

Br'er Fox fought against the stubborn foliage, clawin' something furious and something fierce in the direction of the oblivious Br'er Jack. With a final huff 'n' puff, Br'er Fox was free from the trap, but his beautiful tail was torn clean off his backside and left dangling from the very thornbush he was hiding within only a scant moment before. The momentum caused poor Br'er Fox to careen into the closest tree... a tree which just so happened to harbor a nest of irritable honeybees (honeybees are naturally irritable, but nothing irritates them more than having their home upset)!

After the hive fell, struck the ground, and busted wide open, the stingin' insects were on Br'er Fox like flies on bear scat. Covered in merciless bees, the blinded fox howled and zig-zagged, zig-zagged and howled, punchin' at the swarm of pests (doing what swarms do) about his face, and thusly, punchin' hisself in his OWN face. Br'er Fox, unable to see any which way, tripped over the aforementioned briar thicket and tumbled (tail-less, bee-stung, and still quite hungry) off a nearby cliff, hittin' every rock on the way down, before landin' face-first in the largest AND smelliest (as the flies would testify) pile of Br'er Bear scat EVER exaggerated about.

Alarmed by the commotion behind him on the road, Br'er Jackalope turned to see what all the fuss was. At first, he was a bit annoyed to have his whistlin' so rudely interrupted (he did so love to whistle), but his mood was improved lickety-split. For there, as luck would have it, on the ground, was a deliciously oozy chunk of deliciously gooey honeycomb, with nary a bee about. How had he not noticed it before? As he snacked on the lip-smackin' sweet treat, he spotted something red and bushy tangled in the briar and he bounded over to investigate further. Whatever it was, it would make a great fly swatter. How fortuitous! After all, there WERE an awful lot of pesky flies in the area. 'Must be from all the bear scat', thought Br'er Jack..."

THE END!
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The lost tales of Br'er Jackalope: Part 1

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The lost tales of Br'er Jackalope: Part 1


Ahoy, Crypto Scouts!

What a find! I came across this antique tshatshke (chachka?) while scouring the local flea market for hidden treasures (and discount alligator urine... don't ask). It's clearly an effigy of the long forgotten character of American Folklore: BR'ER JACKALOPE!


THE HISTORY!
______________

You may not have heard of him, and there's a simple explanation for that probability. When Joel Chandler Harris collected the materials for his Uncle Remus stories, he thought it best to leave ol' Br'er Jack out of the books. While the remaining Uncle Remus stories could be easily linked to African and Native American folklore, it's difficult to trace the origins of Br'er Jack's tales. The jackalope's stories had been passed down through oral tradition (in hushed tones), but rarely written down.

Br'er Jackalope wasn't a trickster character, per se, like his more famous contemporary, Br'er Rabbit. He didn't outwit his foes with smarts, but with LUCK. Blind, stupid, simple, doo-dah, clueless luck! Ol' Br'er Jack was blessed, you see, with always "bein' in the right place, at the right time". It didn't matter what Br'er Fox and Br'er Bear did to get the best of the little horned critter, their luck (usually bad) was never as good as Br'er Jackalope's. He had two lucky rabbit's feet, down at the bottom of his rabbit legs, and besides a fist full of four-leaf clover, NOTHING is luckier. Some legends even say that when Ol' Jack had come across his cousin sleeping one day, Br'er Jackalope "borrowed" Br'er Rabbit's own rabbit feet, and kept the extras in the back pocket of his trousers for EXTRA luck!

Carrying an umbrella (although not for rain, 'cause the sun's always shinin' on Br'er Jack), he hops about the countryside, stumbling upon fortunate situation after fortunate situation. We could call him an "opportunist", however, that would give the character too much credit. He never knowingly maneuvers himself into these auspicious circumstances. Fate's just in his corner.


THE THEORY!
_____________

Why is so little remembered about Br'er Jackalope? The belief is that this character was not the most appropriate for the didactic purposes of Joel Chandler Harris' books (see also: Aesop's prototypical "The Tortoise and the Jackalope"). Despite the fact that everyday, everywhere, many people do succeed because of "bein' in the right place, at the right time" (see also: nepotism, celebutantism, etc) it was thought that you couldn't bestow a valuable lesson to children about the phenomena. I'd argue that informing youth early on of this reality IS a valuable lesson, and will prepare them for adulthood, when dreams inevitably get squashed, regardless of effort/skill/passion.

Ultimately, the two-faced, conniving, back-stabbing trickster-varmint, Br'er Rabbit, was fast-tracked into the spotlight of Harris' antiquated book series and the controversial adaptations that followed. Br'er Jackalope was all but forgotten. Would history have looked more favorably upon this property if Br'er Jackalope had taken center stage? We'll never know.

Cryptically yours,
*The Crypto-Scout

The lost tales of Br'er Jackalope: Part 2

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Sunday, July 5, 2009

Do the chickens have large talons?

Ahoy, Crypto Scouts!

On my recent "Vision Quest" to unlock the mysteries of Kalamazoo's DogMan, I discovered something far more strange. I failed to track down the supposed bipedal canine prowling Western Michigan and verify if it is indeed a related breed to Wisconsin's Beast of Bray Road, but I did come across some remarkable evidence of something ELSE lurking the Midwestern forests...

Please forgive the hot chocolate stains. I was burning the midnight oil (as it were) compiling this exciting data for YOU, my loyal readers and fellow crypto-enthusiasts. As you can see, in the above photograph, there is a large avian claw-print in the dry earth. My foot is featured alongside for size comparison.

After I spent some time searching for this yet unidentified cryptid, I set up several of my Crypto-Cams in order to capture more visual evidence. I chose my camera-trap locations carefully, based on probable fauna traffic and the presence of additional "chicken scratch" in the immediate vicinity. I was soon rewarded for my efforts! But nothing would prepare me for the rare and BIZARRE footage I would later gather...



No human walks like that. Well, maybe at wedding receptions...

Was it some sort of Chick-anthrope or other type of WereFowl (an anagram of wereWOLF... curiouser & curiouser)? Was it some prehistoric missing link, like the Archaeopteryx, held over from a bygone era? Is "ChickenMan" too generic of a moniker for this prodigious pecker (I propose "MegaCock" or "CockZilla")? Does MegaCock, like everything else, taste like chicken? And if so, what IS the Colonel's secret recipe? What came first, CockZilla or the egg? Why did the Fowlociraptor cross the road? Stay tuned for answers to these perplexing questions and/or even more perplexer questions here at Monster C.H.O.W.

Cryptically yours,

*The Crypto-Scout



Post-Script: I propose the Crypto Scouts adopt a new merit badge in honor of my recent findings. If they do, it will be my first official patch, as I still haven't passed the test for that elusive Robot Apocalypse Readiness award. :(