Wanly Made Mailman

@basicchunnel

John WM Thompson. Shirley Jackson nominated editor (MOONCALVES, 2024). No subversion, only vandalism. Out east, out west, up north. NO Press is a cute place for books!

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Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· 29d

WHAT IT IS, Lynda Barry

el WOULD Wait FOR THE Other THINGS in the room to
FORGET ABOUT ME and BEGIN TO MOVE
My MOOD SEEMED TO HAVE A LOT XO DO WITH IT.---I'D HAVE TO Maje MYSELF VERY Calm AND VERY FRIENDLY, THE WAY Il would WHEN I wanted A Shy ANIMAL to
COME TO me
AND el KNEW I HAD TO be PATIENT, and WILLING TO WAIT FOR a VERY LONG time.
WE lived IN A trailer THEN, and any PICTURES WE had up weretimes THEY FELL.
TAPED to THE walls.
BUT THIS IS nOt WHAT Il MEAN when I SAY they COULD MOVE.

I BELIEVED there WAS another
WORLD that WOULD SHOW!
itself TO ME in the SMALLEST ways
THE gray KITTEN IN THE picture By
PICTURE would breathe. I BELIEVED
THERE WAS another WORLD-
BUT I ONLY
noticed it when
IT BECAME harder to get To. There
HAD Been A TIME When a TOY ELEPHANT WaS
AS ALIVE AS a REAL rabbit IN THE GRASS.
I DIDN'T KNOW there
WERE different KINDS OF ALIVEness, AND two worlds coNTAINED by
EACH Other.

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· 29d

I say this with compassion: Do not proceed with submissions under the expectation that your work is going to be read. It probably won't be. You have to be Sisyphus about it. You have to do it even though you're probably not getting a fair shake. www.patreon.com/doriandawes/...

This week left me wondering if I want to participate in genre fiction at all anymore. To put it bluntly, I am not disappointed, because my expectations were already quite low, but I am incandescent with rage and a little despair if we’re being honest. I am wondering what the point of any of it all is when no one can be bothered to read their own submissions closely enough to determine if they’re even written well, let alone if they’re written by an actual person. If these submissions are being accepted purely on the basis of a premise already

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jul 12

The NYT writes about fascism like an erotica author describing an irresistibly problematic and formidable top

How Marco Rubio Is Running Venezuela
From Afar
The secretary of state effectively controls
Venezuela's finances, its natural resources and its government. His grip is a vivid manifestation of U.S. power.
10 MIN READ
• • •

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jul 12

"Electricity." from Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jul 11

The mean streets…

A truck with a custom ON THE STREETS OF THE BRONX tailgate, featuring a collage of images from the film A BRONX TALE

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jul 10

Leap

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jul 9

I would not put Napoleon Bonaparte in the “dudes rock” pantheon. Frogs and toads, however, get in easily.

BEAUTIFUL MR. TOAD
THE NATURALIST FINDS MANY POINTS IN HIM TO ADMIRE.
Silly Superstition Has Blinded the Eyes of Many to the Splendid Dress and Conduct of the Gardener's Friend.
BEAUTIFUL MR.
TOAD

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jul 9

In fairness to word horde, formatting on variably sized screens is a fuckin nightmare even if you’ve got interior layout designers going at it specifically. Here’s what my pro-rate layout designer managed for MOONCALVES on the same screen. You do what you can!

MOON-CALVES
Strange Stories
Edited by John WM Thompson

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jul 9

Graphic design is my passion!!

n

Carrie-Edmund Laben
Word Horde
Petaluma, CA

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jul 8

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jul 7

Ah yes, naturally

Local Communication
In Story 1, Host A with IP address 10.10.1.1 wants to communicate with Host B with IP address 10.10.1.2. Host A's subnet mask is 255.255.255.0 in decimal. In binary, it looks like 24 ones followed by 8 zeroes:
As mentioned earlier, the subnet mask consists of a string of Is followed by a string of Os.
The 1s indicate which bit positions in an IP address are network bits, and the Os indicate which are host bits. In other words, when you line up an IP address with its subnet mask in binary, if there's a 1 in the subnet mask row, the corresponding bit in the same column of the IP address row is a network bit, shared by all hosts on the same network. Wherever there's a 0 for a subnet mask bit, the corresponding bit in the same column of the IP address row is a host bit.
In this case, the first 24 of the 32 bits of this IP address are network bits and thus shared by every device on this network. The last 8 bits are host bits and are unique to each host on this network. Each of the four numbers in the decimal format is known as an octet because it's represented by 8 bits in binary.

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jul 7

Mechanically it seems to have something to do with pushing the jaw upward and back, mildly by clenching the teeth or more intensely by drawing the jaw back directly or pressing the tongue up on the back of the palate.

The author opening his mouth so as to put pressure on the back of his jaw, thus producing a low tremulous rumble in his ears

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jul 5

CAVES OF QUD, 2025

You discover Steel Dad!
You note the location of Steel Dad in the Locations > Ruins section of your journal.

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jul 5

MeToo is truly dead, at least among the billionaire class

Beyoncé is celebrating the 4th of July and the 20th anniversary of her sophomore LP B'Day. with the release of a new song. "Morning Dew (Donk)" was co-written with Pharrell, The-Dream, and Darius Dixson, and produced by Pharrell and Bey. It is set to appear on an upcoming reissue of B'Day, coming September 4.

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jul 3

I do have two sons

Esteban the young cat boy princeling of the Bronx and the hog shaped cat shaped bug named piglet

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jul 2

I’d think twice abt this directive. Cranking one’s column in an embassy is, at the very least, disrespectful. And you’re subject to the laws of the country on whose soil you are technically occupying

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jul 2

So true

Trung Le Nguyen
@trungles.com
Time Machine Accident (Forgot where you parked it)
Piglet and Esteban are not boys but iconographic floating signifiers, shifting in meaning and purpose according to the social mores and folkways of the ever-changing times through which they travel but never settle
8:23 PM • Jul 1, 2026
8 reposts
34 likes

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jul 1

Hopped over to the passenger side but the sun keeps moving through the sky! Very glad I bought this windshield cover last week, I would be in worse shape without it. Car is officially dead, though

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jul 1

ALSO via a nerd Discord, from 1980. Apparently a good game??

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jul 1

We are on our way

A hardcover of M. John Harrison’s THE END OF EVERYTHING

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jul 1

God bless the freaks

Magen Cubed @magencubed.net
Torn Apart And Devoured By Lions
Every time we go to a local zinefest or indie arts show, I run into the romance book girly tables. They all have the same sparkly pink stickers, pins, and other goods with phrases like "You had me at Trigger Warning" and "All my favorite books have trigger warnings"
And I just feel very tired, lol

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jun 30

Dark lols

Sahil Kapur •
@sahilkapur.bsky.social
Boating Accident (Out of fuel)
Rep. Tom Kean speaks: "Several months ago due to health concerns I entered the hospital for some testing. I did not believe that this would result in a long-term stay. I was given the diagnosis of depression."

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jun 30

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jun 30

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jun 29

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jun 29

THE LIVING SKELETON (1968) is on Criterion fyi

Underwater skeletons in THE LIVING SKELETON (1968)

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jun 29

In light of these facts, if one can admit them honestly and forthrightly, then three options are available to us. The first, chosen by nearly everyone, is to retreat into the psychic defense of unconscionable acceptance. One engages in the dumb, insulating cynicism of finding any kind of hope embarrassing, of hemming and hawing as it a ruined police station or Capitol Hill bathroom is a stain on an otherwise manageable world. If one is sufficiently reactionary, this attitude involves adopting the position that the empire is good, actually, that the hellfire and murder inflicted on every populated continent in the world is the clear-eyed price of Western civilization; in other words, to say it is worth it, to adopt the Weather Underground's precise justification of efficacious violence for the ambitions of the
other side. If one is liberal, Sensible and Sober,

other side. If one is liberal, Sensible and Sober, then one only needs to adopt the fiction that only babies get too worked up, that the hopelessness of resistance is the same as the immorality of resistance, to acquire a taste for wine made from sour grapes. It requires only deadening one's heart to the deaths of someone else's children, clutching your pearls tightly, and accepting unlimited political violence so long as it is the kind that all the other grownups have made peace with: the kind carried out in the name of your ongoing comfort. Denial:
That is option one.

The second option is pure Christianity, the total and radical acceptance of these facts, of the impossibility of salvation in this life, of the inevitable passage through the veil of tears with eyes wide open. This option is the most difficult by far. It allows one to hold firm in one's objections to violence, to disorder, to depravity of all kinds at the cost of one's complete destruction. It requires one to adopt the total and sincere willingness not only to look directly at the immiseration, destruction, and murder of millions without raising a hand, but also to accept one's own death by the same terms, to imagine what we have inflicted on the world inflicted suddenly on us and to turn the other cheek, not to a slap but to a bullet, to a bomb.

The third option, of course, is to try to blow up a police station. To run wild through the streets. To scream and not stop screaming. To do this knowing that you are very likely to lose, that you are certain to be mocked and feared, discredited and persecuted; to endure the relentless, reflexive, and stupid double standard of a cynical world, and die and be forgotten. Or worse: to live a long and inexplicable life, comfortable in your second act once all the legal matters have been resolved, sitting as your son-who clearly loves you-reassures his readers that everything you ever did was just a hit of pique. Sure, the government set millions of people on fire, and sure, they murdered your friends, and yes, they even have tapes, somewhere, of your sister having sex (just in case she shouted out your hiding place mid-coitus), and yes, all of that was bad, no doubt, they shouldn't have done it, but that the real catastrophe, the real history in need of reckoning, the real beyond the pale radical act is your misguided beliet, once upon a time, that you could do anything about it. That you could

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jun 29

A few counterpoints a liberal might offer up to this, if they didn’t have the ideological structures in place to preclude all thought that might go into it: 1) What would you say to a “Project 2029”? 2) Would Tel Aviv be as beautiful without all that murder? lareviewofbooks.org/article/dang...

History feels inevitable in retrospect, but it would be difficult to convince an ambitious liberal activist in 1982 that by the year 2026, the United States would not have any kind of social healthcare program, that the diminished welfare state was significantly more precarious than a generation prior, that Roe v. Wade (1973) had been overturned, that the 1965 Voting Rights Act had been rendered largely moot, that the environment continued to degrade at pace, that the poverty rate remained stubbornly trapped above 10 percent. While they might be heartened to learn of some marginal and mainly technological improvements in quality of life, they might be less heartened to discover that the most significant technological innovations of the past generation were the creation of a digital surveillance apparatus unimaginable to the FBI agents of 1975 and the replacement of CIA operatives tasked with in-person assassinations with unmanned drones capable of carrying out civilian massacres via remote control. The age of reasonable and

ordinary politics had proved so effective that the liberals had joined the reactionaries in their enthusiasm for spying, lawfare, and ideological policework and had voted, via their representatives in the allegedly liberal party, to support bombing campaigns, dissident liquidations, and outright invasions of El Salvador, Libya, Lebanon, Nicaragua, Grenada, Libya again, Bolivia, Iran, Panama, the Philippines, Iraq, Somalia, Bosnia, Haiti, Sudan, Afghanistan, Iraq again, Yugoslavia, Afghanistan again, Yemen, Iraq for a third time, Pakistan, Somalia again, Iraq for a fourth time, Syria, Yemen again, Niger, Mali, Burkina Faso, Somalia again, Afghanistan again, Somalia again, Yemen again, Venezuela, Ecuador, Gaza, and Iran (again).

Perhaps ordinary politics will succeed tomorrow. But it could not undo these crimes; it could not retroactively prevent them. The failure to act sooner-to act urgently, preemptively—is a perfectly mainstream grievance in American political life so long as the perpetrators of preemptive violence are the Pentagon or the police. It is only the Left that is accused of irrational impatience. It is helptul, once again, to resolve the abstract into the particular. One must imagine a sensible and centrist columnist, bloody hands clawing desperately through the rubble of his recently bombed-out DC town house in search of his child, buried below. One must imagine him desperate, carrying that child-still alive, thank God, but both legs reduced to shredded, bleeding stumps-through the smoky streets, desperate to reach an emergency room. You must imagine him dodging several additional air strikes, slipping past the ground forces deployed to sweep up any men between the ages of 16 and 55 found out in the streets, and finally reaching a field hospital where his child's life can be saved. You must imagine him

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jun 28

The sleepiest soldier

Wanly Made Mailman@basicchunnel· Jun 28

“Pay No Mind (Snoozer)”