And in the morning I'll be waiting for your neverending wave

Most of yesterday was eaten by taxes, but I still managed to salvage a rather nice evening with ratatosk out of it (with occasional sightings of derspatchel) once we got out of J.P. Licks and the twee-pop banshee music. Seriously, I have no idea. I couldn't even identify a genre outside of Unless That's Supposed to Be ASDIC . . . I did sleep seven hours, though. Have some links.

1. Ellen Datlow has posted her list of Honorable Mentions for Best Horror of the Year, Volume 4. My poems "Incubation" (Not One of Us #45) and "Persephone in Hel" (Stone Telling #3) are among them. Also a lot of other awesome things.

2. Mammal Club, "Double Double." It's a Christopher Morcom song. From 2010. I knew there had to be one somewhere.

My memory's infected
Each warm swirl of affection
I can now calculate
From the heat of your gaze
And the blue of your eyes
To the cool of your palm
And the pain in my heart

Oh, Christopher
Un-die and silence my whirring mind
Because the chaos you caused
Is what I'm trying to explain

I can't find a recording of it anywhere that isn't the video, but I'd buy one in a heartbeat if I could.

3. She's right that he came out a little cartoonier than some of her previous sketches, but I am still quite pleased that Tracy J. Butler finally drew a page of human-style Mordecai. At the desk with his glasses off, he really does look like someone I knew in college. I love him as a schoolboy, shadowed by cat-shape. And when he's demanding the universe be reasonable—is a little symmetry too much to ask?—oh, he'd hate to know it, but he's adorable.

4. Tickets are now available for the Post-Meridian Radio Players' Spring Sci-Fi Spectacular. That's an an episode of Rob Noyes' Red Shift: Interplanetary Do-Gooder ("Havoc Over Holowood!") and the radio adaptation of The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951) originally put on by Lux Radio Theater in 1954. I just haven't figured out which night (or afternoon) I'm going.

5. I am, in fact, charmed by this: H.P. Lovecraft, agony aunt. "Meet me by the cenotaph at midnight, and bring a banjo."

Going by Adam Gopnik, I am totally behind the times on nostalgia. See, er, this post.