Four Days to Go!

It’s 2pm Australian Eastern Daylight savings time on the 27th of October 2018 which means The Frankenpod season two starts in just four days on the 31st of October!

Halloween Spppooooookyyy.

Not really intentional it just seemed as good a time as any.

We have some amazing episodes coming with Melissa of The Brook Reading podcast on a particularly divisive and controversial book and I don my tinfoil hat with the ladies of Wives Tales to talk about a cinematic adaptation of one of the most popular conspiracies based novels of the 20th Century.

But for the first episode of season two Brent and I tackle a little true crime by examining a masterpiece of “literary non-fiction”, some of the controversies surrounding it and it’s cinematic adaptations.

We’ve recorded a short promo just to keep everyone in the loop and you can find the initial relaunch blog post here.

If you want a bit of a refresher on what we define as gothic you can find our introduction to gothic literature here and we will be updating this definition soon to include some of the things we have learnt along the way. There is also our everything is gothic unless it’s not and then it’s something else which might be useful if you are looking for more specific information about what we include as part of the gothic genre.

This season we will be featuring creepy stories submitted by listeners and some classic gothic short stories you may not have heard before. It doesn’t have to be frightening, it doesn’t have to be dramatic, just a little something that can be read in 5 minutes. If you like you can send it to us as the text for us to read or you can read it yourself and send us an audio file. If writing isn’t your thing we are also happy to accept music.

Make sure you let us know if you want us to promote your project, podcast, writing or anything. It is literally the least we could do.

If you want to come on the podcast and have a chat about your favourite gothic book, movie, television show, graphic novel, poem, character or author you can email us at thefrankenpod@gmail.com.

We can’t wait to be back!

http://thefrankenpod.libsyn.com/season-2-starts-on-the-31st-of-october

 

Promo Music: Swing Gitane by The Underscore Orkestra is licensed under a Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.

Image: A digitized image of the original painting American Gothic that Grant Wood, a master artist of the twentieth century, created in 1930 and sold to the Art Institute of Chicago in November of the same year.

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The Mystery of Edwin Drood

Once upon a time, there was a guy named Brent who trusted Morgan to tell him a story with a beginning, middle and end…

This is the blog post that accompanies The FrankenPod episode Drood! released on the 7th of July 2018. Click here to add us into your podcast app!

This episode we talk about the last story written by Charles Dickens, the characters, the story, the adaptations…

Brent gets a little emotional.

Stay past the outro music for some extra bits including Brent getting excited about theatre stuff and a promo for 6 Degrees of Wiki

The bleak, cold and unfeeling city of London and it’s sometimes monstrous inhabitants, corrupt power structures and labyrinthine streets and alleyways place the work of Dicken’s squarely within Victorian Gothic and The Mystery of Edwin Drood is no exception.

The Mystery of Edwin Drood is the story of the disappearance and potential murder of the titular Edwin Drood who had recently quarrelled with a guy named Neville, broke off an engagement with Rosa and has the misfortune to be a relation to a very unsavoury character named John Jasper. Rosa and Edwin seem to have ended their betrothal by their fathers on friendly terms and it is possible that Drood and Neville Landless managed to patch things up before his disappearance, which just kind of leaves Jasper.

But is Drood really dead and what is the deal with that weird guy Dick Datchery who just turned up out of the blue?

Listen HERE

Once you finish the episode here are the videos Brent promised you:

Promo for the Broadway Show:

 

Super Abridged Musical

The Characters speak:

ShitTown – Chapter 2

Bahh I listened to episode 3 as episode one so any references to earlier episodes are referring to episode 3…

😑 This is why you need to fact check even if you don’t want to research and come at the podcast with fresh eyes….

Okay before we get into the episode can we just have a moments appreciation for the S-Town website, that shit is beautiful. I love the way it moves and evolves as you scroll. It’s a nice change from some of the place holder websites you often see for podcasts. (No Usidore I’m not talking about Usidore Rocks, that is another exception {listen to Hello from the Magic Tavern for context})

Anyway onto potential spoilers for Chapter 2

Hearing John for the first time was exciting, he seems to be quite the story teller. Rambling frenetic anecdotes peppered with non sequiturs. Within the first sentence of Brian’s narration we get a tantalizing hint of the crime that John was obsessed with so it doesn’t look like that thread has been dropped. I’m so glad.

Kaybrum, Kabrum, Cabram, Kabram?

Who is Kabram Burt? And why can’t I google him properly? Yes I gave in and researched, well kind of. I’m currently paused on chapter 2 with 40 minutes to go of the episode and I couldn’t resist the allure of search engine spoilers. But without and easy answers I gave up.

Kyabrum? Kabrum (Kabram? Cybrum? Quebrim?) is the person that John suspected of murder, the murder that he was discussing with Brian prior to his death. You can find some speculative research here.

We hear about John walking into the tattoo parlour with his soapbox. We meet some rough, racist guys guys from Tyler’s tattoo parlour. We hear about John the miser, John the loner, John the shut in. But we also hear about the John who hated tattoos but propped up his friend Tyler’s business by getting multiple tattoos  and piercings

At the halfway point of this episode I think I may be in love with John B. McLemore…

But then we find out Kyabram Burt didn’t kill anybody. The guy he beat up didn’t die, and it was investigated thoroughly, there was no coverup, no murder. Just a fight… a nasty fight… but a fight. And there seems to be a weird rumour mill operating off half the truth that John seems to have latched onto for some reason which is strange for someone who is so meticulous.

The annoying truth of the situation seems to have depressed him more than before. He despairs for his town and “the clusterfuck” he sees around him. It’s like he was distracting himself from the apathy of the general population towards the slow detriation of the world and the futility of the human condition by looking into what turned out to be just another fight.

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ShitTown Chapter 3 mislabelled 1 dammit

So my podcast app messed up the labelling of this podcast…. and I ended up with episode 3 labelled as episode one…shit.

I pity the podcast that gets released today, surely the latest project from Serial and This American Life is one tough act to follow. S-Town is the euphamistic listing name for ShitTown, a new podcast narrated by Brian Reed in which he explores the unfolding drama in small town Alabama.

I WILL be binging this series, but I will not be posting all of my review articles today. I’m going through the episodes carefully, 1 at a time, and I WON’T be conducting external research yet, but I don’t rule that out in the future.

Spoilers to follow. You have been warned

“John B McLemore lives in Shittown Alabama”, he is a clockmaker and he is not a joyful man. He is extrodinarily clever, meticulous, intriguing and fatalistic. He has a fine sense of injustice and the world slowly turning to shit. He has a mother he cares for, friends who love him but he is deeply depressed a lonely in a way that people who feel the full weight of the problems of the world can relate to. He sometimes upsets people with his grim world view. Particularly his employee and close friend Tyler. Tyler maintains John’s house and helps out with his mum and is an unexpected saving grace for the middle aged, “celebate homosexual” as he termed himself. Tyler rides a motorbike, is covered in tattoos and has an unmistakable southern drawl. John is dependent on Tyler, John is a surrogate father figure for Tyler, Tyler  has a bed and clothes at John’s place, Tyler’s wife implores him not to go running everytime John calls in a suicidal funk.

So when John drinks cyanide one evening with seemingly no preparations made to deal with his estate or look after his mother confusion and chaos ensues. Including surprise appearances from suspiciously unconcerned distant relatives.

See John didn’t trust banks, he told his lawyer that he had a plan for his assets. A plan that seems to include gold…

Right out of the gate ShitTown is riviting and bewitching. John is relatable and endearing, and the chaos he left in his wake seems to be completely in advertant at this stage.

There are also hinted at connections to deeper mysteries that John was interested in which I hope will be a thread that gets picked back up.

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The Guilty Party …. a short piece of drivel for a creative writing course

He stood up. No one else moved. The room was silent.
Looking about at the faces of those he barely knew, expectant faces, faces filled with trepidation and curiosity, he wondered, not for the first time, what he was doing here. She had made promises, vague promises, but promises none the less, they would do this together. Now here he was alone, in a room of familiar, but nonetheless alien faces.
Discomfort, hiding in plain sight, in clothes that were not his. At least two people suspected him, he knew, he could read it on their faces. His shy demeanour and hatred of confrontation left him impotent and unable to confront them. But they had seen him, just before it all went wrong, he was arguing with her. Did they see him grab her arm? Did they sense his urgency? If they didn’t then how could they possibly suspect him, it’s not like she was around to tell them. But how did the old adage go? “ It’s always the quiet ones…”.
He thought back to happier times, before this fateful evening. Days spent in quiet, unadulterated bliss. Her long gold hair draped over his chest as they lay arm in arm by the waters edge. Happier, he was so much happier then, comfortable, isolated, perfect, until the letter came and shattered the peace and simplicity he held so dear. It was never supposed to be like this. She had promised.
Could they see the guilt on his face? How much he would love to be anywhere, but in this room, with all the whispers and accusatory glances in his direction. He closed his eyes in an effort to compose himself, but her pale, motionless body lying on the hardwood floor was all he could see.
Opening his eyes looked down at the card he held in his hand, his instructions, they weighed heavily on him. And now here he was without an ally, about to proclaim his guilt. Where was she now? He had no idea.
He was suddenly aware that whilst he had been lost in thought, almost catatonic, the guests were all staring at him. He knew most of them by name, and some by reputation, little gossipy titbits and nasty secrets that she had told him. Knowing so little, and yet knowing so much meant he was unable to look any of them in the eye.
He couldn’t delay this any longer, he cleared his throat and started to read through the much loathed text. Stumbling over the last of his speech he sat down embarrassed and angry. He was so crap at this.
“This is the last time,” he thought bitterly, “I let her drag me to a murder mystery night”

Morgan Pinder

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On a dark an stormy night

It had been raining now for 2 hours… the roads were slick and the ominous clap of thunder every 5 minutes or so made the night seem full of forboding. Suddenly she heard the wail of sirens from just out side her window. She peered out, but nothing was a miss. Not even the slightest flicker of a blue or red light to betray the presence of one or another emergency services. She could still hear the wailing of sirens but she reasoned that they must not be as close as she thought. All was well in her little corner of the world. She contented her self by resolving to make a cup of coffee… but as she passed by the front door the wailing intensified. What hellish accident had happened not too far from her little flat that would cause such a prolonged disturbance? For another hour the sirens continued… fading intermittently then loudly reasserting themselves in the quiet soundscape of suburbia at night. She began to scour news sights, desperately looking for clues of what tragedy was unfolding. In order to reassure herself that her house is secure she checks in on her peacefully sleeping children and goes down stairs to check that the car is locked.
Suddenly out of the darkness the truth of the situation reveals itself…
Her kids have left a fire engine toy out in the rain and has been drenched so thoroughly that it is now emitting a siren on a continuous loop. She kicks the stupid truck and goes to bed.

♤♡♢♧ morgan mushroom ♤♡♢♧

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