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We are not a religious bunch of people. We are barely even spiritual. I’d characterize us each as people who are interested in simply being good, maybe even beyond reproach. Maybe some of the Junior Sneerists just bump along, existing until inevitably dying and turning to dust. That is to say, this was all the case until we discovered some rubble that was once a temple. Within that rubble were complete sketches of how the temple once looked, and mostly-indecipherable texts describing the rituals and beliefs of the worshipers who once populated this place.

The temple may be a metaphor, but the religion is real: Sneerholicism

pray

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We have a lot of fears. Some make sense; others, not so much. This latter type will be featured once monthly until we run out of material, at which point, we might begin accepting the fears of our readers. 

cchris

I love describing my dynamic with cchris to anyone who has a moment to listen, because I never have been able to understand it. I even mention it on here as much as I can, partly because it’s part of my character makeup, and partly because I really am that bewildered by it. Over the years, things have shifted and changed. When I realized that he is very mysterious, my imagination occasionally will step in and try to figure out WHY. Who is so good at not giving out personal facts? For this many years? Is it villainy? Is it because there’s nothing there? Is it to appear more interesting? What is there to hide, and if there is nothing to hide — WHY.

The irrational fear depicted in the comic has OMGJeremy to blame. Apparently he thinks that cchris and I write similarly, and maybe it is HIS irrational fear that I am pretending to be this whole other person. When he first told me of this, I did have a little while where I might have been horrified and fearful at the possibility. That would be world-shattering to realize. But I guess I don’t fear it, exactly. If it turns out it’s all been in my head, that’s almost impressive. I could live with it. I could live with having made a little Canadian Tulpa. That’s fine. Whatever. I would just like to know for sure before I die of old age.

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Communities and cultures both small and large develop their own habits and traits. Along with their stories and traditions, superstitions tend to emerge. We are no different, of course.

When we say, “let’s post before 2 pm” it becomes almost inevitable that anything after that won’t get published until around 11:30 pm. We have to assume that any time we recruit a new writer, they will immediately get writer’s block for a few months or so. And god forbid you start your day by saying your Sneer work will be “easy.”

superstitious fools

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tesla

The sad life story of Nikola Tesla is one almost everyone knows. A brilliant genius mind too good for this world, his kind altruistic intentions were continually thwarted by jealous capitalists who were bloodthirsty cutthroat money making greedmonsters who would stop at nothing to create monopolies on inventions, THOMAS EDISON. I’M LOOKING AT YOU.

Born on July 10, 1856, in modern day Croatia, Nikola emigrated to the United States in 1884 and continued inventing and being plagued by setbacks. He gave us alternating current electricity and Tesla Coils, among other things (I’m not writing a book report here — do your own research), so he wasn’t a long string of failures or anything. But the end of his life seemed to be a struggle with unpaid bills, relative obscurity, and dying all alone.

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We have a lot of fears. Some make sense; others, not so much. This latter type will be featured once monthly until we run out of material, at which point, we might begin accepting the fears of our readers. 

pranks

I’m not sure if I actually have “social anxiety,” or if I just have anxious times while out and about, or if maybe I had it once, and am doing better now. But very definitely for a while this was a very serious concern of mine. Ever since I was a child and saw TV’s Bloopers and Practical Jokes, starring that dream team of Dick Clark and Ed McMahon, I became horrified by the idea that people would film pranks and then air them on television for the viewing public to see. Later, there have been plenty of other such shows, some meaner than others, and of course now there is YouTube and I’m even going to include improv groups who like to make “magic” in the form of awkward public scenes. Shudder.

I’m aware that I think legally, for the most part, they have people sign release forms to be displayed on television. But I am not sure what YouTube does to protect the average kid from being the target of such. Probably nothing. Look! I’m talking myself right back into having this as a strong irrational fear again! I know that this is statistically remote, but oh god, the horror. It is enough to make me never want to leave the house again. I can trust no one.

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Any time a new animal friend enters my life, I find myself considering what name would suit it. I don’t mean that I take fifteen minutes before settling on the forever-name. I mean I draw up charts and make lists and say each word hundreds of times. I consult numerology and tea leaves and the phases of the moon. I read baby name books and dictionaries and look at the shapes of clouds hoping that one will inspire me suitably.

Perhaps many of you think I am going overboard when it comes to this sort of thing, but I used to stress over naming my Sims, too, so this is how seriously I take names! A pet will live out its entire lifespan (which it will obviously be spending entirely with you, responsible pet owner), so the name is crucial. You will be saying this word repeatedly, and eventually, engraving it on a little stone monument to mark its place in a pet cemetery. It’s the most important thing to this animal, after food, water, shelter, and pettings.

gimme name

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hennn

I may idealize chickens. My grandparents had some when I was very young, and I have no negative memories associated with that time and apparently that’s all it takes for me to form an opinion that will never, ever change. But I can’t be wrong about this because clearly, all chickens are wonderful.

Now that we have the Sneer HQ, there has been talk of maybe getting a few hens for the back yard. They could help us garden, I assume, and provide us with breakfast supplies. At the very least, there is a nearby park and community garden that has chickens on the premises, so I can visit them and listen to their inquisitive clucking as they ask who I am and why I am not throwing feed their way.Continue reading

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We, the writers of Sneer Campaign, are not complete philistines. Occasionally we like to raise our pinky fingers and sip on hot tea while discussing some of the finer things in this world. Sometimes we cover matters of history, other times we may speak at length about books we have read, or scientific breakthroughs that had been brought to our attention somehow. Other days, we sit around analyzing classic artworks — but never modern art because we are not sophisticated enough to “get” it!  

Today, we decided to take a look at the Last Supper, by some kid named Leonardo da Vinci. He had his day back in the 1400s, but do not let that frighten you. Those days were not so different than these days we are in now. So take our hands, readers, and appreciate the history of art, religious beliefs, flippant artistic subterfuge, and yes even a little Last Supper Day Miracle!

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There are many kinds of mysteries in this confusing, mixed up world. We often find ourselves trapped in darkness, trying to solve a murder case, maybe, or seeking to understand what on the surface appears to be a supernatural phenomenon. Whole civilizations have been lost and we still don’t know why. Statues may weep tears of blood, drawing crowds of thousands of hopeful people, yearning to see a miracle.

Some mysteries are on a much smaller scale, but are no less perplexing and miraculous. Some mysteries appear on your own body! A mystery appeared on mine.

candiiiice

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