Casilda's Hat Contest has drawn to a close at last. The entries have been sent to the judges who are busy reading each every one and picking their favorites as I speak (well, maybe not right this very second. They could very well be taking a shower or peeling onions or something). Results should (hopefully!) be posted some time within the next couple of weeks. I won't give you any hints as to who's ahead so far, but I can honestly say that they were all just wonderful and wonderfully creepy to boot! It's obvious that a lot of work went into these. Good work, all of you! This decision will not be easy.
Oh, and look at this! Kim in OK has sent a photo of her Emmeline tattoo, which was done by Brooke Cooke in Conway, AR:
She plans to add the Neighbor Boy soon. I can't wait to see it!
At this rate, I wonder if I'll ever catch up on my inbox, but I suppose I have time to answer one question:
Hey! I love ur videos, yet the creepy part about them is the lingering question, What if that really did happen? Or already did? -C
If the little girl in "Stage Fright" really burnt down the theater with her mind, no one would believe it wasn't faulty wiring. But she'd suffer from guilt all her life just the same and grow up to become Firefighter of the Year thirteen years in a row, causing a jealous rivalry within her department. She'd eventually feel the pressure and quit, whereupon she'd write a book about her experiences that would be published as Science Fiction/Fantasy because who's going to believe a nationally recognized firefighter woman was once a pyrokinetic pre-k actress?
If Emmeline really had a Mister Creazil, and if together they really destroyed an entire town, we probably wouldn't know about it until a hobby photographer happened to pass through the area and found the remnants. He'd take lots of grainy black and white photos and start asking questions on UFO watcher forums, starting an international WHAT HAPPENED TO SKARYVILLE? movement. You'll know about it when your weirdo college roommate pastes a poster of the rusted water tower on the dorm wall and disappears on Friday nights to hold secret meetings with his local Skaryville Truth chapter.
If Genevieve had ever really ruled the world and been overthrown, you wouldn't have had any real toys when you were a child. They'd have been banned the world over for several years, and you'd have had to play with baking soda boxes and dolls made out of cheese rind. But you wouldn't know any better, so you'd think it was pretty great. Maybe you would've grown up to design a cheese-rind doll that was actually made of plastic and could be mass-produced! It'd have movable arms and legs and say baby things when tipped over. It would be an enormous sensation, actually, and you'd be called the Father or Mother of the Modern Toy. You'd die a very wealthy person indeed, decades or perhaps even centuries before some genius kid gets a crazy idea to build his or her own army with... I don't know. Something.
I don't suppose we'll ever know if Ida's story is true, but if the peculiar old woman sitting next to you on the bus one day leans over and says, "I think you'd better get off at the next stop, dearie," and begins to hum a familiar children's tune, you probably shouldn't question it.