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232 results for “hrefna”

Public Domain Image Archive @[email protected] · 2026-05-14 · 17:02 UTC

Guide for Constructing the Letters c and d (ca. 1595) by Joris Hoefnagel.
Source: The Getty
Available to buy as a print.
https://pdimagearchive.org/images/a1d26df5-4405-452c-baf0-1f5f42eede4a
#vases #monkeys #manuscripts #foliage #decorations #art #publicdomain

#publicdomain #art #decorations #foliage #manuscripts #monkeys
Public Domain Image Archive @[email protected] · 2026-05-14 · 17:02 UTC

Guide for Constructing the Letters c and d (ca. 1595) by Joris Hoefnagel.
Source: The Getty
Available to buy as a print.
https://pdimagearchive.org/images/a1d26df5-4405-452c-baf0-1f5f42eede4a
#vases #monkeys #manuscripts #foliage #decorations #art #publicdomain

#vases #monkeys #manuscripts #foliage #decorations #art
Aneesh Sathe @[email protected] · 2025-08-02 · 05:26 UTC
The Small God of the Internet
It was a small announcement on an innocuous page about “spring cleaning”. The herald, some guy with the kind of name that promised he was all yours. Four sentences you only find because you were already looking for a shortcuts through life. A paragraph, tidy as a folded handkerchief, explained that a certain popular reader of feeds was retiring in four months’ time. Somewhere in the draughty back alleys of the web, a small god cleared his throat. Once he had roared every morning in a thousand offices. Now, when people clicked for their daily liturgy, the sound he made was… domesticated.
He is called ArrEsEs by those who enjoy syllables. He wears a round orange halo with three neat ripples in it. Strictly speaking, this is an icon1, but gods are not strict about these things. He presides over the River of Posts, which is less picturesque than it sounds and runs through everyone’s house at once. His priests are librarians and tinkerers and persons who believe in putting things in order so they can be pleasantly disordered later. The temple benches are arranged in feeds. The chief sacrament is “Mark All As Read,” which is the kind of absolution that leaves you lighter and vaguely suspicious you’ve got away with something.
Guide for Constructing the Letter S from Mira Calligraphiae Monumenta or The Model Book of Calligraphy (15611596) by Georg Bocskay and Joris Hoefnagel. Original from The Getty. Digitally enhanced by rawpixel.
There was a time the great city-temples kept a candle lit for him right on their threshold. The Fox of Fire invited him in and called it Live Bookmarks.2 The moldable church, once a suit, then a car, then a journey, in typical style stamped “RSS” beside the address like a house number. The Explorer adopted the little orange beacon with the enthusiasm of someone who has been told there will be cake. The Singers built him a pew and handed out hymnals. You could walk into almost any shrine and find his votive lamp glowing: “The river comes this way.” Later, accountants, the men behind the man who was yours, discovered that candles are unmonetizable and, one by one, the lamps were tidied into drawers that say “More…”.
ArrEsEs has lineage. Long before he knocked on doors with a bundle of headlines, there was Old Mother Press, the iron-fingered goddess of moveable type, patron of ink that bites and paper that complains. Her creed was simple: get the word out. She marched letters into columns and columns into broadsides until villages woke up arguing the same argument.3* ArrEsEs is her great-grandchild—quick-footed, soft-spoken—who learned to carry the broadsheet to each door at once and wait politely on the mat. He still bears her family look: text in tidy rows, dates that mind their place, headlines that know how to stand up straight.**
Four months after the Announcement, the big temple shut its doors with a soft click. The congregation wandered off in small, stubborn knots and started chapels in back rooms with unhelpful names like OGRP4. ArrEsEs took to traveling again, coat collar up, suitcase full of headlines, knocking on back doors at respectable intervals. “No hurry,” he would say, leaving the bundle on the step. “When you’re ready.” The larger gods of the Square ring bells until you come out in your slippers; this one waits with the patience of bread.
Like all small gods, he thrives on little rites. He smiles when you put his name plainly on your door: a link that says feed without a blush. He approves of bogrolls blogrolls, because they are how villages point at one another and remember they are villages. He warms to OPML, which is a pilgrim’s list people swap like seed packets. He’s indulgent about the details—/rss.xml, /atom.xml, /feed, he will answer to all of them—but he purrs (quietly; dignified creature) for a cleanly formed offering and a sensible update cadence5.
His miracles are modest and cannot be tallied on a quarterly slide. He brings things in the order they happened. He does silence properly. The river arrives in the morning with twenty-seven items; you read two, save three, and let the rest drift by with the calm certainty that rivers do not take offense. He remembers what you finished. He promises tomorrow will come with its own bundle, and if you happen to be away, he will keep the stack neat and not wedge a “You Might Also Like” leaflet between your socks.
These days, though, ArrEsEs is lean at the ribs. The big estates threw dams across his tributaries and called them platforms. Good water disappeared behind walls; the rest was coaxed into ornamental channels that loop the palace and reflect only the palace. Where streams once argued cheerfully, they now mutter through sluices and churn a Gloomwheel that turns and turns without making flour—an endless thumb-crank that insists there is more, and worse, if you’ll just keep scrolling. He can drink from it, but it leaves a taste of tin and yesterday’s news.
A god’s displeasure tells you more than his blessings. His is mild. If you hide the feed, he grows thin around the edges. If you build a house that is only a façade until seven JSters haul in the furniture, he coughs and brings you only the headline and a smell of varnish6. If you replace paragraphs with an endless corridor, he develops the kind of seasickness that keeps old sailors ashore. He does not smite. He sulks, which is worse, because you may not notice until you wonder where everyone went.
Still, belief has a way of pooling in low places. In the quiet hours, the little chapels hum: home pages with kettles on, personal sites that remember how to wave, gardeners who publish their lists of other gardeners. Somewhere, a reader you’ve never met presses a small, homely button that says subscribe. The god straightens, just a touch. He is gentler than his grandmother who rattled windows with every edition, but the family gift endures. If you invite him, tomorrow he will be there, on your step, with a bundle of fresh pages and a polite cough. You can let him in, or make tea first. He’ll wait. He always has.

Heavily edited sloptraption.
1. He maintains it’s saffron, which is what halos say when they are trying to be practical ↩︎
2. The sort of feature named by a librarian, which is to say, both accurate and doomed. ↩︎
3. Not to be confused with the software that borrowed her title and a fair chunk of her patience. ↩︎
4. Old Google Reader People ↩︎
5. On festival days he will accept serif, sans-serif, or whatever the village printer has not yet thrown at a cat.
  ↩︎
6. He can drink JSON when pressed; stew remains his preference. ↩︎
#AI #algorithmicFeeds #blogging #blogrolls #Discworld #doomscrolling #feedReaders #GoogleReader #history #IndieWeb #internetFolklore #openWeb #OPML #personalWebsites #philosophy #POSSE #printingPress #quietWeb #RSS #smallGods #TerryPratchett #webStandards #writing
#ai #algorithmicfeeds #blogging #blogrolls #discworld #doomscrolling
Aneesh Sathe @[email protected] · 2025-08-02 · 05:26 UTC
The Small God of the Internet
It was a small announcement on an innocuous page about “spring cleaning”. The herald, some guy with the kind of name that promised he was all yours. Four sentences you only find because you were already looking for a shortcuts through life. A paragraph, tidy as a folded handkerchief, explained that a certain popular reader of feeds was retiring in four months’ time. Somewhere in the draughty back alleys of the web, a small god cleared his throat. Once he had roared every morning in a thousand offices. Now, when people clicked for their daily liturgy, the sound he made was… domesticated.
He is called ArrEsEs by those who enjoy syllables. He wears a round orange halo with three neat ripples in it. Strictly speaking, this is an icon1, but gods are not strict about these things. He presides over the River of Posts, which is less picturesque than it sounds and runs through everyone’s house at once. His priests are librarians and tinkerers and persons who believe in putting things in order so they can be pleasantly disordered later. The temple benches are arranged in feeds. The chief sacrament is “Mark All As Read,” which is the kind of absolution that leaves you lighter and vaguely suspicious you’ve got away with something.
Guide for Constructing the Letter S from Mira Calligraphiae Monumenta or The Model Book of Calligraphy (15611596) by Georg Bocskay and Joris Hoefnagel. Original from The Getty. Digitally enhanced by rawpixel.
There was a time the great city-temples kept a candle lit for him right on their threshold. The Fox of Fire invited him in and called it Live Bookmarks.2 The moldable church, once a suit, then a car, then a journey, in typical style stamped “RSS” beside the address like a house number. The Explorer adopted the little orange beacon with the enthusiasm of someone who has been told there will be cake. The Singers built him a pew and handed out hymnals. You could walk into almost any shrine and find his votive lamp glowing: “The river comes this way.” Later, accountants, the men behind the man who was yours, discovered that candles are unmonetizable and, one by one, the lamps were tidied into drawers that say “More…”.
ArrEsEs has lineage. Long before he knocked on doors with a bundle of headlines, there was Old Mother Press, the iron-fingered goddess of moveable type, patron of ink that bites and paper that complains. Her creed was simple: get the word out. She marched letters into columns and columns into broadsides until villages woke up arguing the same argument.3* ArrEsEs is her great-grandchild—quick-footed, soft-spoken—who learned to carry the broadsheet to each door at once and wait politely on the mat. He still bears her family look: text in tidy rows, dates that mind their place, headlines that know how to stand up straight.**
Four months after the Announcement, the big temple shut its doors with a soft click. The congregation wandered off in small, stubborn knots and started chapels in back rooms with unhelpful names like OGRP4. ArrEsEs took to traveling again, coat collar up, suitcase full of headlines, knocking on back doors at respectable intervals. “No hurry,” he would say, leaving the bundle on the step. “When you’re ready.” The larger gods of the Square ring bells until you come out in your slippers; this one waits with the patience of bread.
Like all small gods, he thrives on little rites. He smiles when you put his name plainly on your door: a link that says feed without a blush. He approves of bogrolls blogrolls, because they are how villages point at one another and remember they are villages. He warms to OPML, which is a pilgrim’s list people swap like seed packets. He’s indulgent about the details—/rss.xml, /atom.xml, /feed, he will answer to all of them—but he purrs (quietly; dignified creature) for a cleanly formed offering and a sensible update cadence5.
His miracles are modest and cannot be tallied on a quarterly slide. He brings things in the order they happened. He does silence properly. The river arrives in the morning with twenty-seven items; you read two, save three, and let the rest drift by with the calm certainty that rivers do not take offense. He remembers what you finished. He promises tomorrow will come with its own bundle, and if you happen to be away, he will keep the stack neat and not wedge a “You Might Also Like” leaflet between your socks.
These days, though, ArrEsEs is lean at the ribs. The big estates threw dams across his tributaries and called them platforms. Good water disappeared behind walls; the rest was coaxed into ornamental channels that loop the palace and reflect only the palace. Where streams once argued cheerfully, they now mutter through sluices and churn a Gloomwheel that turns and turns without making flour—an endless thumb-crank that insists there is more, and worse, if you’ll just keep scrolling. He can drink from it, but it leaves a taste of tin and yesterday’s news.
A god’s displeasure tells you more than his blessings. His is mild. If you hide the feed, he grows thin around the edges. If you build a house that is only a façade until seven JSters haul in the furniture, he coughs and brings you only the headline and a smell of varnish6. If you replace paragraphs with an endless corridor, he develops the kind of seasickness that keeps old sailors ashore. He does not smite. He sulks, which is worse, because you may not notice until you wonder where everyone went.
Still, belief has a way of pooling in low places. In the quiet hours, the little chapels hum: home pages with kettles on, personal sites that remember how to wave, gardeners who publish their lists of other gardeners. Somewhere, a reader you’ve never met presses a small, homely button that says subscribe. The god straightens, just a touch. He is gentler than his grandmother who rattled windows with every edition, but the family gift endures. If you invite him, tomorrow he will be there, on your step, with a bundle of fresh pages and a polite cough. You can let him in, or make tea first. He’ll wait. He always has.

Heavily edited sloptraption.
1. He maintains it’s saffron, which is what halos say when they are trying to be practical ↩︎
2. The sort of feature named by a librarian, which is to say, both accurate and doomed. ↩︎
3. Not to be confused with the software that borrowed her title and a fair chunk of her patience. ↩︎
4. Old Google Reader People ↩︎
5. On festival days he will accept serif, sans-serif, or whatever the village printer has not yet thrown at a cat.
  ↩︎
6. He can drink JSON when pressed; stew remains his preference. ↩︎
#AI #algorithmicFeeds #blogging #blogrolls #Discworld #doomscrolling #feedReaders #GoogleReader #history #IndieWeb #internetFolklore #openWeb #OPML #personalWebsites #philosophy #POSSE #printingPress #quietWeb #RSS #smallGods #TerryPratchett #webStandards #writing
#ai #algorithmicfeeds #blogging #blogrolls #discworld #doomscrolling
Aneesh Sathe @[email protected] · 2025-08-02 · 05:26 UTC
The Small God of the Internet
It was a small announcement on an innocuous page about “spring cleaning”. The herald, some guy with the kind of name that promised he was all yours. Four sentences you only find because you were already looking for a shortcuts through life. A paragraph, tidy as a folded handkerchief, explained that a certain popular reader of feeds was retiring in four months’ time. Somewhere in the draughty back alleys of the web, a small god cleared his throat. Once he had roared every morning in a thousand offices. Now, when people clicked for their daily liturgy, the sound he made was… domesticated.
He is called ArrEsEs by those who enjoy syllables. He wears a round orange halo with three neat ripples in it. Strictly speaking, this is an icon1, but gods are not strict about these things. He presides over the River of Posts, which is less picturesque than it sounds and runs through everyone’s house at once. His priests are librarians and tinkerers and persons who believe in putting things in order so they can be pleasantly disordered later. The temple benches are arranged in feeds. The chief sacrament is “Mark All As Read,” which is the kind of absolution that leaves you lighter and vaguely suspicious you’ve got away with something.
Guide for Constructing the Letter S from Mira Calligraphiae Monumenta or The Model Book of Calligraphy (15611596) by Georg Bocskay and Joris Hoefnagel. Original from The Getty. Digitally enhanced by rawpixel.
There was a time the great city-temples kept a candle lit for him right on their threshold. The Fox of Fire invited him in and called it Live Bookmarks.2 The moldable church, once a suit, then a car, then a journey, in typical style stamped “RSS” beside the address like a house number. The Explorer adopted the little orange beacon with the enthusiasm of someone who has been told there will be cake. The Singers built him a pew and handed out hymnals. You could walk into almost any shrine and find his votive lamp glowing: “The river comes this way.” Later, accountants, the men behind the man who was yours, discovered that candles are unmonetizable and, one by one, the lamps were tidied into drawers that say “More…”.
ArrEsEs has lineage. Long before he knocked on doors with a bundle of headlines, there was Old Mother Press, the iron-fingered goddess of moveable type, patron of ink that bites and paper that complains. Her creed was simple: get the word out. She marched letters into columns and columns into broadsides until villages woke up arguing the same argument.3* ArrEsEs is her great-grandchild—quick-footed, soft-spoken—who learned to carry the broadsheet to each door at once and wait politely on the mat. He still bears her family look: text in tidy rows, dates that mind their place, headlines that know how to stand up straight.**
Four months after the Announcement, the big temple shut its doors with a soft click. The congregation wandered off in small, stubborn knots and started chapels in back rooms with unhelpful names like OGRP4. ArrEsEs took to traveling again, coat collar up, suitcase full of headlines, knocking on back doors at respectable intervals. “No hurry,” he would say, leaving the bundle on the step. “When you’re ready.” The larger gods of the Square ring bells until you come out in your slippers; this one waits with the patience of bread.
Like all small gods, he thrives on little rites. He smiles when you put his name plainly on your door: a link that says feed without a blush. He approves of bogrolls blogrolls, because they are how villages point at one another and remember they are villages. He warms to OPML, which is a pilgrim’s list people swap like seed packets. He’s indulgent about the details—/rss.xml, /atom.xml, /feed, he will answer to all of them—but he purrs (quietly; dignified creature) for a cleanly formed offering and a sensible update cadence5.
His miracles are modest and cannot be tallied on a quarterly slide. He brings things in the order they happened. He does silence properly. The river arrives in the morning with twenty-seven items; you read two, save three, and let the rest drift by with the calm certainty that rivers do not take offense. He remembers what you finished. He promises tomorrow will come with its own bundle, and if you happen to be away, he will keep the stack neat and not wedge a “You Might Also Like” leaflet between your socks.
These days, though, ArrEsEs is lean at the ribs. The big estates threw dams across his tributaries and called them platforms. Good water disappeared behind walls; the rest was coaxed into ornamental channels that loop the palace and reflect only the palace. Where streams once argued cheerfully, they now mutter through sluices and churn a Gloomwheel that turns and turns without making flour—an endless thumb-crank that insists there is more, and worse, if you’ll just keep scrolling. He can drink from it, but it leaves a taste of tin and yesterday’s news.
A god’s displeasure tells you more than his blessings. His is mild. If you hide the feed, he grows thin around the edges. If you build a house that is only a façade until seven JSters haul in the furniture, he coughs and brings you only the headline and a smell of varnish6. If you replace paragraphs with an endless corridor, he develops the kind of seasickness that keeps old sailors ashore. He does not smite. He sulks, which is worse, because you may not notice until you wonder where everyone went.
Still, belief has a way of pooling in low places. In the quiet hours, the little chapels hum: home pages with kettles on, personal sites that remember how to wave, gardeners who publish their lists of other gardeners. Somewhere, a reader you’ve never met presses a small, homely button that says subscribe. The god straightens, just a touch. He is gentler than his grandmother who rattled windows with every edition, but the family gift endures. If you invite him, tomorrow he will be there, on your step, with a bundle of fresh pages and a polite cough. You can let him in, or make tea first. He’ll wait. He always has.

Heavily edited sloptraption.
1. He maintains it’s saffron, which is what halos say when they are trying to be practical ↩︎
2. The sort of feature named by a librarian, which is to say, both accurate and doomed. ↩︎
3. Not to be confused with the software that borrowed her title and a fair chunk of her patience. ↩︎
4. Old Google Reader People ↩︎
5. On festival days he will accept serif, sans-serif, or whatever the village printer has not yet thrown at a cat.
  ↩︎
6. He can drink JSON when pressed; stew remains his preference. ↩︎
#AI #algorithmicFeeds #blogging #blogrolls #Discworld #doomscrolling #feedReaders #GoogleReader #history #IndieWeb #internetFolklore #openWeb #OPML #personalWebsites #philosophy #POSSE #printingPress #quietWeb #RSS #smallGods #TerryPratchett #webStandards #writing
#ai #algorithmicfeeds #blogging #blogrolls #discworld #doomscrolling
Aneesh Sathe @[email protected] · 2025-08-02 · 05:26 UTC
The Small God of the Internet
It was a small announcement on an innocuous page about “spring cleaning”. The herald, some guy with the kind of name that promised he was all yours. Four sentences you only find because you were already looking for a shortcuts through life. A paragraph, tidy as a folded handkerchief, explained that a certain popular reader of feeds was retiring in four months’ time. Somewhere in the draughty back alleys of the web, a small god cleared his throat. Once he had roared every morning in a thousand offices. Now, when people clicked for their daily liturgy, the sound he made was… domesticated.
He is called ArrEsEs by those who enjoy syllables. He wears a round orange halo with three neat ripples in it. Strictly speaking, this is an icon1, but gods are not strict about these things. He presides over the River of Posts, which is less picturesque than it sounds and runs through everyone’s house at once. His priests are librarians and tinkerers and persons who believe in putting things in order so they can be pleasantly disordered later. The temple benches are arranged in feeds. The chief sacrament is “Mark All As Read,” which is the kind of absolution that leaves you lighter and vaguely suspicious you’ve got away with something.
Guide for Constructing the Letter S from Mira Calligraphiae Monumenta or The Model Book of Calligraphy (15611596) by Georg Bocskay and Joris Hoefnagel. Original from The Getty. Digitally enhanced by rawpixel.
There was a time the great city-temples kept a candle lit for him right on their threshold. The Fox of Fire invited him in and called it Live Bookmarks.2 The moldable church, once a suit, then a car, then a journey, in typical style stamped “RSS” beside the address like a house number. The Explorer adopted the little orange beacon with the enthusiasm of someone who has been told there will be cake. The Singers built him a pew and handed out hymnals. You could walk into almost any shrine and find his votive lamp glowing: “The river comes this way.” Later, accountants, the men behind the man who was yours, discovered that candles are unmonetizable and, one by one, the lamps were tidied into drawers that say “More…”.
ArrEsEs has lineage. Long before he knocked on doors with a bundle of headlines, there was Old Mother Press, the iron-fingered goddess of moveable type, patron of ink that bites and paper that complains. Her creed was simple: get the word out. She marched letters into columns and columns into broadsides until villages woke up arguing the same argument.3* ArrEsEs is her great-grandchild—quick-footed, soft-spoken—who learned to carry the broadsheet to each door at once and wait politely on the mat. He still bears her family look: text in tidy rows, dates that mind their place, headlines that know how to stand up straight.**
Four months after the Announcement, the big temple shut its doors with a soft click. The congregation wandered off in small, stubborn knots and started chapels in back rooms with unhelpful names like OGRP4. ArrEsEs took to traveling again, coat collar up, suitcase full of headlines, knocking on back doors at respectable intervals. “No hurry,” he would say, leaving the bundle on the step. “When you’re ready.” The larger gods of the Square ring bells until you come out in your slippers; this one waits with the patience of bread.
Like all small gods, he thrives on little rites. He smiles when you put his name plainly on your door: a link that says feed without a blush. He approves of bogrolls blogrolls, because they are how villages point at one another and remember they are villages. He warms to OPML, which is a pilgrim’s list people swap like seed packets. He’s indulgent about the details—/rss.xml, /atom.xml, /feed, he will answer to all of them—but he purrs (quietly; dignified creature) for a cleanly formed offering and a sensible update cadence5.
His miracles are modest and cannot be tallied on a quarterly slide. He brings things in the order they happened. He does silence properly. The river arrives in the morning with twenty-seven items; you read two, save three, and let the rest drift by with the calm certainty that rivers do not take offense. He remembers what you finished. He promises tomorrow will come with its own bundle, and if you happen to be away, he will keep the stack neat and not wedge a “You Might Also Like” leaflet between your socks.
These days, though, ArrEsEs is lean at the ribs. The big estates threw dams across his tributaries and called them platforms. Good water disappeared behind walls; the rest was coaxed into ornamental channels that loop the palace and reflect only the palace. Where streams once argued cheerfully, they now mutter through sluices and churn a Gloomwheel that turns and turns without making flour—an endless thumb-crank that insists there is more, and worse, if you’ll just keep scrolling. He can drink from it, but it leaves a taste of tin and yesterday’s news.
A god’s displeasure tells you more than his blessings. His is mild. If you hide the feed, he grows thin around the edges. If you build a house that is only a façade until seven JSters haul in the furniture, he coughs and brings you only the headline and a smell of varnish6. If you replace paragraphs with an endless corridor, he develops the kind of seasickness that keeps old sailors ashore. He does not smite. He sulks, which is worse, because you may not notice until you wonder where everyone went.
Still, belief has a way of pooling in low places. In the quiet hours, the little chapels hum: home pages with kettles on, personal sites that remember how to wave, gardeners who publish their lists of other gardeners. Somewhere, a reader you’ve never met presses a small, homely button that says subscribe. The god straightens, just a touch. He is gentler than his grandmother who rattled windows with every edition, but the family gift endures. If you invite him, tomorrow he will be there, on your step, with a bundle of fresh pages and a polite cough. You can let him in, or make tea first. He’ll wait. He always has.

Heavily edited sloptraption.
1. He maintains it’s saffron, which is what halos say when they are trying to be practical ↩︎
2. The sort of feature named by a librarian, which is to say, both accurate and doomed. ↩︎
3. Not to be confused with the software that borrowed her title and a fair chunk of her patience. ↩︎
4. Old Google Reader People ↩︎
5. On festival days he will accept serif, sans-serif, or whatever the village printer has not yet thrown at a cat.
  ↩︎
6. He can drink JSON when pressed; stew remains his preference. ↩︎
#AI #algorithmicFeeds #blogging #blogrolls #Discworld #doomscrolling #feedReaders #GoogleReader #history #IndieWeb #internetFolklore #openWeb #OPML #personalWebsites #philosophy #POSSE #printingPress #quietWeb #RSS #smallGods #TerryPratchett #webStandards #writing
#writing #webstandards #terrypratchett #smallgods #rss #quietweb
Aneesh Sathe @[email protected] · 2025-08-02 · 05:26 UTC
The Small God of the Internet
It was a small announcement on an innocuous page about “spring cleaning”. The herald, some guy with the kind of name that promised he was all yours. Four sentences you only find because you were already looking for a shortcuts through life. A paragraph, tidy as a folded handkerchief, explained that a certain popular reader of feeds was retiring in four months’ time. Somewhere in the draughty back alleys of the web, a small god cleared his throat. Once he had roared every morning in a thousand offices. Now, when people clicked for their daily liturgy, the sound he made was… domesticated.
He is called ArrEsEs by those who enjoy syllables. He wears a round orange halo with three neat ripples in it. Strictly speaking, this is an icon1, but gods are not strict about these things. He presides over the River of Posts, which is less picturesque than it sounds and runs through everyone’s house at once. His priests are librarians and tinkerers and persons who believe in putting things in order so they can be pleasantly disordered later. The temple benches are arranged in feeds. The chief sacrament is “Mark All As Read,” which is the kind of absolution that leaves you lighter and vaguely suspicious you’ve got away with something.
Guide for Constructing the Letter S from Mira Calligraphiae Monumenta or The Model Book of Calligraphy (15611596) by Georg Bocskay and Joris Hoefnagel. Original from The Getty. Digitally enhanced by rawpixel.
There was a time the great city-temples kept a candle lit for him right on their threshold. The Fox of Fire invited him in and called it Live Bookmarks.2 The moldable church, once a suit, then a car, then a journey, in typical style stamped “RSS” beside the address like a house number. The Explorer adopted the little orange beacon with the enthusiasm of someone who has been told there will be cake. The Singers built him a pew and handed out hymnals. You could walk into almost any shrine and find his votive lamp glowing: “The river comes this way.” Later, accountants, the men behind the man who was yours, discovered that candles are unmonetizable and, one by one, the lamps were tidied into drawers that say “More…”.
ArrEsEs has lineage. Long before he knocked on doors with a bundle of headlines, there was Old Mother Press, the iron-fingered goddess of moveable type, patron of ink that bites and paper that complains. Her creed was simple: get the word out. She marched letters into columns and columns into broadsides until villages woke up arguing the same argument.3* ArrEsEs is her great-grandchild—quick-footed, soft-spoken—who learned to carry the broadsheet to each door at once and wait politely on the mat. He still bears her family look: text in tidy rows, dates that mind their place, headlines that know how to stand up straight.**
Four months after the Announcement, the big temple shut its doors with a soft click. The congregation wandered off in small, stubborn knots and started chapels in back rooms with unhelpful names like OGRP4. ArrEsEs took to traveling again, coat collar up, suitcase full of headlines, knocking on back doors at respectable intervals. “No hurry,” he would say, leaving the bundle on the step. “When you’re ready.” The larger gods of the Square ring bells until you come out in your slippers; this one waits with the patience of bread.
Like all small gods, he thrives on little rites. He smiles when you put his name plainly on your door: a link that says feed without a blush. He approves of bogrolls blogrolls, because they are how villages point at one another and remember they are villages. He warms to OPML, which is a pilgrim’s list people swap like seed packets. He’s indulgent about the details—/rss.xml, /atom.xml, /feed, he will answer to all of them—but he purrs (quietly; dignified creature) for a cleanly formed offering and a sensible update cadence5.
His miracles are modest and cannot be tallied on a quarterly slide. He brings things in the order they happened. He does silence properly. The river arrives in the morning with twenty-seven items; you read two, save three, and let the rest drift by with the calm certainty that rivers do not take offense. He remembers what you finished. He promises tomorrow will come with its own bundle, and if you happen to be away, he will keep the stack neat and not wedge a “You Might Also Like” leaflet between your socks.
These days, though, ArrEsEs is lean at the ribs. The big estates threw dams across his tributaries and called them platforms. Good water disappeared behind walls; the rest was coaxed into ornamental channels that loop the palace and reflect only the palace. Where streams once argued cheerfully, they now mutter through sluices and churn a Gloomwheel that turns and turns without making flour—an endless thumb-crank that insists there is more, and worse, if you’ll just keep scrolling. He can drink from it, but it leaves a taste of tin and yesterday’s news.
A god’s displeasure tells you more than his blessings. His is mild. If you hide the feed, he grows thin around the edges. If you build a house that is only a façade until seven JSters haul in the furniture, he coughs and brings you only the headline and a smell of varnish6. If you replace paragraphs with an endless corridor, he develops the kind of seasickness that keeps old sailors ashore. He does not smite. He sulks, which is worse, because you may not notice until you wonder where everyone went.
Still, belief has a way of pooling in low places. In the quiet hours, the little chapels hum: home pages with kettles on, personal sites that remember how to wave, gardeners who publish their lists of other gardeners. Somewhere, a reader you’ve never met presses a small, homely button that says subscribe. The god straightens, just a touch. He is gentler than his grandmother who rattled windows with every edition, but the family gift endures. If you invite him, tomorrow he will be there, on your step, with a bundle of fresh pages and a polite cough. You can let him in, or make tea first. He’ll wait. He always has.

Heavily edited sloptraption.
1. He maintains it’s saffron, which is what halos say when they are trying to be practical ↩︎
2. The sort of feature named by a librarian, which is to say, both accurate and doomed. ↩︎
3. Not to be confused with the software that borrowed her title and a fair chunk of her patience. ↩︎
4. Old Google Reader People ↩︎
5. On festival days he will accept serif, sans-serif, or whatever the village printer has not yet thrown at a cat.
  ↩︎
6. He can drink JSON when pressed; stew remains his preference. ↩︎
#AI #algorithmicFeeds #blogging #blogrolls #Discworld #doomscrolling #feedReaders #GoogleReader #history #IndieWeb #internetFolklore #openWeb #OPML #personalWebsites #philosophy #POSSE #printingPress #quietWeb #RSS #smallGods #TerryPratchett #webStandards #writing
#ai #algorithmicfeeds #blogging #blogrolls #discworld #doomscrolling
Ricardo Antonio Piana @[email protected] · 2026-02-17 · 12:40 UTC

Ho automatizzato un processo, con l’amore necessario.

Sembra una frase da manuale di ingegneria sentimentale, invece è solo quello che ho fatto su Wardrome: ho preso un sito nato in inglese, ho guardato i numeri, ho visto migliaia di accessi dalla Cina, ho sentito l’italiano bussare con discrezione, e ho deciso che non era elegante lasciare le persone a tradursi l’universo da sole.

Così ho rifatto il tema, ho insegnato al routing a distinguere le lingue, ho costruito indici separati, filtri, percorsi dedicati; poi ho messo in piedi un sistema che di notte passa tra gli articoli, li traduce via API, sistema gli slug parlanti, ricuce i link interni, genera hreflang come coordinate stellari.

L’AI lavora, sì, ma non governa: quando il testo si fa epico o letterario intervengo io, perché una flotta può essere automatizzata, il respiro no. Non è una feature da roadmap, non è un esercizio di SEO esibita: è spirito di servizio, è coerenza, è il tentativo di far restare un universo se stesso anche quando cambia lingua.

Ho raccontato tutto qui, senza tecnicismi inutili ma senza nascondere la struttura sotto la poesia: https://ricardopiana.com/automatizzare-con-lamore-necessario/

Se vi va, ditemi come affrontate voi il multilingua: delega totale, plugin salvifici, oppure anche voi ogni tanto restate a limare una frase che l’algoritmo aveva tradotto troppo bene per essere vera?

#GhostCMS #Multilingual #AI #Wardrome #Automation

#ghostcms #multilingual #ai #wardrome #automation
Public Domain Image Archive @[email protected] · 2025-09-27 · 12:00 UTC

Guide for Constructing the Letter E (ca. 1595) by Joris Hoefnagel.
Source: The Getty
Available to buy as a print.
https://pdimagearchive.org/images/f1f85546-76ae-49b8-abf0-1116912f6088
#globes #birds #decorations #art #publicdomain

#globes #birds #decorations #art #publicdomain
Lüne-Blog @[email protected] · 2026-05-13 · 06:40 UTC

„Ehrenamt im Wandel“: 5. Stadtkonferenz und Stadtmesse stärken das Engagement: Das Ehrenamt als Gewinn für die Stadtgesellschaft. Und Diversität als Geschenk. Das sind zwei Gedanken aus der Diskussion bei der fünften Stadtkonferenz am 9. Mai 2026. Sofian Messaoud vom Integrationsbeirat formulierte es so: „Jeder Mensch [...]
Der Beitrag „Ehrenamt im Wandel“: 5. Stadtkonferenz und Stadtmesse stärken das Engagement… https://luene-blog.de/stadtkonferenz-ehrenamt-und-stadtmesse-staerken-engagement/?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=mastodon #Kultur #Lüneburg #Politik #Hansestadt #Initiativen

#kultur #luneburg #politik #hansestadt #initiativen
Public Domain Image Archive @[email protected] · 2026-02-21 · 00:33 UTC

Guide for Constructing the Letters h and i (ca. 1595) by Joris Hoefnagel.
Source: The Getty
Available to buy as a print.
https://pdimagearchive.org/images/0cfeb726-6355-4476-9289-76f5df312f29
#animals #grotesques #calligraphy #floral #art #publicdomain

#animals #grotesques #calligraphy #floral #art #publicdomain
Public Domain Image Archive @[email protected] · 2026-02-21 · 00:33 UTC

Guide for Constructing the Letters h and i (ca. 1595) by Joris Hoefnagel.
Source: The Getty
Available to buy as a print.
https://pdimagearchive.org/images/0cfeb726-6355-4476-9289-76f5df312f29
#animals #grotesques #calligraphy #floral #art #publicdomain

#animals #grotesques #calligraphy #floral #art #publicdomain
Public Domain Image Archive @[email protected] · 2026-02-21 · 00:33 UTC

Guide for Constructing the Letters h and i (ca. 1595) by Joris Hoefnagel.
Source: The Getty
Available to buy as a print.
https://pdimagearchive.org/images/0cfeb726-6355-4476-9289-76f5df312f29
#animals #grotesques #calligraphy #floral #art #publicdomain

#animals #grotesques #calligraphy #floral #art #publicdomain
Arnaud Mangasaryan (Ramenos) @[email protected] · 2025-05-15 · 22:33 UTC

Google confirme (à nouveau) que les balises Hreflang sont des signaux (comme les canonical tag) et non une directive (comme par exemple la meta robots).
https://www.searchenginejournal.com/google-reminds-that-hreflang-tags-are-hints-not-directives/546428/
Avoir le même contenu sur un site international ne va clairement pas vous aider à mieux vous indexer sur la bonne version régionale du moteur.
#google #hreflang #international #indexing #seo #indexation

#seo #indexation #google #hreflang #international #indexing
Public Domain Image Archive @[email protected] · 2025-11-09 · 14:32 UTC

Guide for Constructing the Letters c and d (ca. 1595) by Joris Hoefnagel.
Source: The Getty
Available to buy as a print.
https://pdimagearchive.org/images/a1d26df5-4405-452c-baf0-1f5f42eede4a
#vases #monkeys #manuscripts #foliage #decorations #art #publicdomain

#vases #monkeys #manuscripts #foliage #decorations #art
Public Domain Image Archive @[email protected] · 2026-02-17 · 19:02 UTC

Fly, Caterpillar, Pear, and Centipede (1542–1600) by Joris Hoefnagel, Georg Bocskay.
Source: The Getty
https://pdimagearchive.org/images/33b9b5c6-924c-4c54-a6ec-9ade2724c14f
#pears #nature #calligraphy #butterflies #art #publicdomain

#pears #nature #calligraphy #butterflies #art #publicdomain
benny windolph @[email protected] · 2026-04-09 · 17:00 UTC

hreflang ist der am häufigsten falsch implementierte Tag im technischen SEO. 🌍Die drei Klassiker: fehlende Rückverweise (x verweist auf y, aber y nicht auf x), falsche Sprachcodes (de-DE statt de) und Canonicals, die auf eine andere Sprachversion zeigen.
Google ignoriert hreflang komplett, sobald die Signale inkonsistent sind. Stillschweigend. Kein Hinweis in der Search Console, kein Warnsignal.
Check: Crawler drauf, paarweise Validierung, fertig.
#TechSEO #hreflang #International #SEO

#techseo #hreflang #international #seo
Sharon A. Hill @[email protected] · 2025-08-16 · 18:59 UTC

Pop cryptid in the News: Jackalope
An outbreak of Shope papillomavirus in Colorado is in the news for the past few weeks. The virus that causes warty growths in cottontail rabbits can be spread by ticks and usually aren’t fatal to the animal unless it interferes with their eyes or mouth.
Rabbits with severe cases of this condition overlaps with ideas about the infamous horned rabbit, the Jackalope. I’ve seen several displays of news or comments on this story that confirm that people really do not know anything about the disease or the history of the American Jackalope legend. They are confused about what is happening with these rabbits and calling them “Jackalopes”.
Some of the kids are amazed. Jackalopes are REAL! And several media outlets are not capable of making real nature stories not look like clickbait by calling the infected animals “Frankenbunnies” and “demon rabbits” because nothing matters today unless it has a stupidly exaggerated name. Tabloid trash says we’re being “invaded” or “overrun”. Nonsense.
I did find videos and references to “Frankenstein” rabbits from at least 12 years ago, even from the Smithsonian Magazine, so it’s not a new thing, but that doesn’t make it less silly. This should be a learning moment. I think, for the most part, it is, if the audience would just listen instead of being so overdramatic.
Screen cap from a 2013 video of an infected rabbit from Minnesota
I pulled out and revamped my content on jackalopes that I wrote in Pop Cryptid Spectator 3 to revisit this topic.
Pop Cryptid: Jackalope
A major theme of the Pop Goes the Cryptid model is the never-ending dispute about calling something a “cryptid”. Today’s complicated example: the Jackalope – a creature that is well-associated with being a “cryptid” online but that almost everyone who knows some history of cryptozoology will insist is not a cryptid because it’s a mythical creature, a hoax.
With the public now seeing rabbits with horny growths and “tentacles” (you weirdo writers need to stop with the Call of Cthulhu), a realization is happening in the cryptid forums and social media that maybe there was something to the idea of a Jackalope as a real animal. But, it’s not simple or direct. Things that evolve in culture never are.
My reference is On the Trail of the Jackalope (2022) by Michael Branch, a comprehensive book that mostly treats the creature as a cultural creation but also briefly explores the idea of its cryptidness.
Animals suffering from the virus were seen by most hunters as suffering from some disease. It’s not hard to figure out. The dark, grotesque growths don’t resemble antlers. The Jackalope, proper, is an antlered jackrabbit or cottontail. So, to equate the two situations is an error.

The true home of the American Jackalope is Douglas, Wyoming where the first taxidermied example was made. The legend goes that it was created sometime between 1932 and 1940 by Douglas Herrick. This is from Branch’s book:
“One day young Doug and Ralph Herrick went out roaming the green hills hunting for small game to supplement the family supper. Having bagged a jackrabbit, the brothers returned home and tossed the hare’s body onto the floor of their shop in preparation to skin it. Because they had recently butchered a small deer in the shop, a modest pair of antlers already rested on the floor. By a sheer coincidence that would change the boys’ lives forever, the dead rabbit happened to slide up against the deer’s horns so as to make it appear the jackrabbit sported the rack.”
The resulting mount was exhibited at the Hotel LaBonte in the town which was ground zero for the legend and the commercialization of the creature. Creation of Jackalope mounts has become a cottage industry and is now well known worldwide as a symbol of the American West.
“[T]he horned rabbit is unalloyed Americana—a genuine artifact of this country’s folk culture—the mythical beast has also made its way across the oceans and around the world.”
According to the locals, says Branch, about half the visitors to Douglas leave believing the animals are real. Do they believe, or are they just having fun believing? Hard to judge. The same might be said about most cryptids as people like to imagine that tall tales are true because it makes life seem magical. This remains a strong theme in the Jackalope biography.
Jackalope from the video game Red Dead Redemption
The horned rabbit
Cottontail rabbits with horn-like protuberances over various parts of their bodies, particularly their heads, were found to be infected with a type of papillomavirus. There can be little doubt that such stricken rabbits would be viewed as mysterious, then and now.
Branch notes that the prevalence of the horned rabbit across cultures suggests that they were at least somewhat based on these natural anomalies. But the precursors to the American Jackalope are numerous. The specific Jackalope may be a Wyoming invention, but it was not the first depiction of the horned rabbit.
In the early days of natural history, the “horned rabbit” was assumed to be a real, genuine, unique animal because witnesses said so. Early naturalists such as Conrad Gessner, Joris Hoefnagel (16th century) and others depicted the horned hare as a real animal. Later, other natural historians weren’t so sure, but this uncertainty about its existence and speculation on the cause of horned hares undoubtedly sounds like the modern idea of a “cryptid”. There is a good bet that the horned hare was at least somewhat based on the diseased animals.

There is also the wolpertinger, an even more badass bunny with not only antlers, but fangs and wings. Or, it was a more bizarre mashup of various birds, squirrels, and foxes. Again, it’s unclear if the virus-related growths helped spread this story. But if so, it was for inspiration only, because Wolpertingers are absurd in appearance. Depictions of wolpertingers originated in Bavaria where taxidermied hoaxes were popular in the 1800s with tourists. Therefore, it’s reasonable to say that the Wolpertinger was a valid ancestor of the Jackalope.
Wolpertinger edited from Young Hare, a painting of a hare by Albrecht Dürer
Is the Jackalope a cryptid?
The world was a different place centuries (or even decades) ago. Ideas and language change. We know more about what’s in the world and what isn’t.
If we go by the general cryptid definition of “an animal/entity that is believed to be real but not recognized by zoology” then the Jackalope can claim the title of an official cryptid. There have been stories of people claiming to see real jackalopes (as in antlered hares) or infected cottontails. There’s a good chance these have been conflated.
Ample evidence shows that most people are entirely ignorant of wildlife in their own backyard, let alone the zoological catalog of known animals. As with everything else in the modern world, we get our information from popular culture, not too much directly from qualified scientific experts. So, it not surprising that an average person would 1.) not know about Shope papilloma infected rabbits and how they look, and 2.) that there is not such animal as an antlered rabbit. For the latter, we have to understand that basic schooling doesn’t teach zoology, and many kids know nothing about nature. (A high percentage of the population does not understand basic geography or scientific explanations about the earth.) So, it is not surprising to me that some people might think jackalopes are plausible. Their appearance in popular culture might suggest to people who didn’t know any better that they are real. This latest hype about “frankenbunnies” also muddies the waters because people are getting poorly sourced “WTF is that!”-type coverage, instead of factual information.

Branch quotes Loren Coleman who runs the International Cryptozoology Museum regarding his inclusion of the Jackalope in the museum: “I would read visitors’ online comments… and they would say things like ‘I didn’t know that the jackalope really existed.’ ” Coleman continues by explaining he reorganized the exhibit to depict the Jackalope along with other hoaxes. To me, there is a lot to unpack in that anecdote. Do we really know which cryptid is a manufactured hoax, which are imaginary creatures that people wish to be real, which are mistaken IDs influenced by lore and campfire tales, and which are real animals? The line is very blurry and all the information available to most people.
The fact is, Pop Cryptids are what’s happening. Any weird animal that is legendary, mythical, or just plain-old manufactured on a whim are being called “cryptids”. And there is nothing any “cryptozoologist” can do to change it, no matter how much they indignantly rant about it.
A Jackalope design for pins and tees on TeePublic.
People are viewing cryptids through various lenses (zoological, artistic, historical, cultural, etc.) If people wish to believe horned rabbits (jackalopes, wolpertingers, or other variations) are real animals hopping around in an alternative reality, that’s OK by me, as long as they aren’t declaring that in biology class. It’s important to recognize that horned rabbits have a history that can be legitimately viewed with a zoological lens. However, the history is fraught with flips, twists, and turns.
#cryptids #Frankenbunnies #Jackalope #popCryptids #rabbits #ShopePapillomaVirus
https://sharonahill.com/?p=10189

#cryptids #frankenbunnies #jackalope #popcryptids #rabbits #shopepapillomavirus
Sharon A. Hill @[email protected] · 2025-08-16 · 18:59 UTC

Pop cryptid in the News: Jackalope
An outbreak of Shope papillomavirus in Colorado is in the news for the past few weeks. The virus that causes warty growths in cottontail rabbits can be spread by ticks and usually aren’t fatal to the animal unless it interferes with their eyes or mouth.
Rabbits with severe cases of this condition overlaps with ideas about the infamous horned rabbit, the Jackalope. I’ve seen several displays of news or comments on this story that confirm that people really do not know anything about the disease or the history of the American Jackalope legend. They are confused about what is happening with these rabbits and calling them “Jackalopes”.
Some of the kids are amazed. Jackalopes are REAL! And several media outlets are not capable of making real nature stories not look like clickbait by calling the infected animals “Frankenbunnies” and “demon rabbits” because nothing matters today unless it has a stupidly exaggerated name. Tabloid trash says we’re being “invaded” or “overrun”. Nonsense.
I did find videos and references to “Frankenstein” rabbits from at least 12 years ago, even from the Smithsonian Magazine, so it’s not a new thing, but that doesn’t make it less silly. This should be a learning moment. I think, for the most part, it is, if the audience would just listen instead of being so overdramatic.
Screen cap from a 2013 video of an infected rabbit from Minnesota
I pulled out and revamped my content on jackalopes that I wrote in Pop Cryptid Spectator 3 to revisit this topic.
Pop Cryptid: Jackalope
A major theme of the Pop Goes the Cryptid model is the never-ending dispute about calling something a “cryptid”. Today’s complicated example: the Jackalope – a creature that is well-associated with being a “cryptid” online but that almost everyone who knows some history of cryptozoology will insist is not a cryptid because it’s a mythical creature, a hoax.
With the public now seeing rabbits with horny growths and “tentacles” (you weirdo writers need to stop with the Call of Cthulhu), a realization is happening in the cryptid forums and social media that maybe there was something to the idea of a Jackalope as a real animal. But, it’s not simple or direct. Things that evolve in culture never are.
My reference is On the Trail of the Jackalope (2022) by Michael Branch, a comprehensive book that mostly treats the creature as a cultural creation but also briefly explores the idea of its cryptidness.
Animals suffering from the virus were seen by most hunters as suffering from some disease. It’s not hard to figure out. The dark, grotesque growths don’t resemble antlers. The Jackalope, proper, is an antlered jackrabbit or cottontail. So, to equate the two situations is an error.

The true home of the American Jackalope is Douglas, Wyoming where the first taxidermied example was made. The legend goes that it was created sometime between 1932 and 1940 by Douglas Herrick. This is from Branch’s book:
“One day young Doug and Ralph Herrick went out roaming the green hills hunting for small game to supplement the family supper. Having bagged a jackrabbit, the brothers returned home and tossed the hare’s body onto the floor of their shop in preparation to skin it. Because they had recently butchered a small deer in the shop, a modest pair of antlers already rested on the floor. By a sheer coincidence that would change the boys’ lives forever, the dead rabbit happened to slide up against the deer’s horns so as to make it appear the jackrabbit sported the rack.”
The resulting mount was exhibited at the Hotel LaBonte in the town which was ground zero for the legend and the commercialization of the creature. Creation of Jackalope mounts has become a cottage industry and is now well known worldwide as a symbol of the American West.
“[T]he horned rabbit is unalloyed Americana—a genuine artifact of this country’s folk culture—the mythical beast has also made its way across the oceans and around the world.”
According to the locals, says Branch, about half the visitors to Douglas leave believing the animals are real. Do they believe, or are they just having fun believing? Hard to judge. The same might be said about most cryptids as people like to imagine that tall tales are true because it makes life seem magical. This remains a strong theme in the Jackalope biography.
Jackalope from the video game Red Dead Redemption
The horned rabbit
Cottontail rabbits with horn-like protuberances over various parts of their bodies, particularly their heads, were found to be infected with a type of papillomavirus. There can be little doubt that such stricken rabbits would be viewed as mysterious, then and now.
Branch notes that the prevalence of the horned rabbit across cultures suggests that they were at least somewhat based on these natural anomalies. But the precursors to the American Jackalope are numerous. The specific Jackalope may be a Wyoming invention, but it was not the first depiction of the horned rabbit.
In the early days of natural history, the “horned rabbit” was assumed to be a real, genuine, unique animal because witnesses said so. Early naturalists such as Conrad Gessner, Joris Hoefnagel (16th century) and others depicted the horned hare as a real animal. Later, other natural historians weren’t so sure, but this uncertainty about its existence and speculation on the cause of horned hares undoubtedly sounds like the modern idea of a “cryptid”. There is a good bet that the horned hare was at least somewhat based on the diseased animals.

There is also the wolpertinger, an even more badass bunny with not only antlers, but fangs and wings. Or, it was a more bizarre mashup of various birds, squirrels, and foxes. Again, it’s unclear if the virus-related growths helped spread this story. But if so, it was for inspiration only, because Wolpertingers are absurd in appearance. Depictions of wolpertingers originated in Bavaria where taxidermied hoaxes were popular in the 1800s with tourists. Therefore, it’s reasonable to say that the Wolpertinger was a valid ancestor of the Jackalope.
Wolpertinger edited from Young Hare, a painting of a hare by Albrecht Dürer
Is the Jackalope a cryptid?
The world was a different place centuries (or even decades) ago. Ideas and language change. We know more about what’s in the world and what isn’t.
If we go by the general cryptid definition of “an animal/entity that is believed to be real but not recognized by zoology” then the Jackalope can claim the title of an official cryptid. There have been stories of people claiming to see real jackalopes (as in antlered hares) or infected cottontails. There’s a good chance these have been conflated.
Ample evidence shows that most people are entirely ignorant of wildlife in their own backyard, let alone the zoological catalog of known animals. As with everything else in the modern world, we get our information from popular culture, not too much directly from qualified scientific experts. So, it not surprising that an average person would 1.) not know about Shope papilloma infected rabbits and how they look, and 2.) that there is not such animal as an antlered rabbit. For the latter, we have to understand that basic schooling doesn’t teach zoology, and many kids know nothing about nature. (A high percentage of the population does not understand basic geography or scientific explanations about the earth.) So, it is not surprising to me that some people might think jackalopes are plausible. Their appearance in popular culture might suggest to people who didn’t know any better that they are real. This latest hype about “frankenbunnies” also muddies the waters because people are getting poorly sourced “WTF is that!”-type coverage, instead of factual information.

Branch quotes Loren Coleman who runs the International Cryptozoology Museum regarding his inclusion of the Jackalope in the museum: “I would read visitors’ online comments… and they would say things like ‘I didn’t know that the jackalope really existed.’ ” Coleman continues by explaining he reorganized the exhibit to depict the Jackalope along with other hoaxes. To me, there is a lot to unpack in that anecdote. Do we really know which cryptid is a manufactured hoax, which are imaginary creatures that people wish to be real, which are mistaken IDs influenced by lore and campfire tales, and which are real animals? The line is very blurry and all the information isn’t available to most people.
The fact is, Pop Cryptids are what’s happening. Any weird animal that is legendary, mythical, or just plain-old manufactured on a whim are being called “cryptids”. And there is nothing any “cryptozoologist” can do to change it, no matter how much they indignantly rant about it.
A Jackalope design for pins and tees on TeePublic.
People are viewing cryptids through various lenses (zoological, artistic, historical, cultural, etc.) If people wish to believe horned rabbits (jackalopes, wolpertingers, or other variations) are real animals hopping around in an alternative reality, that’s OK by me, as long as they aren’t declaring that in biology class. It’s important to recognize that horned rabbits have a history that can be legitimately viewed with a zoological lens. However, the history is fraught with flips, twists, and turns.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M0y-RAXsEQ8
#cryptids #Frankenbunnies #Jackalope #popCryptids #rabbits #ShopePapillomaVirus
https://sharonahill.com/?p=10189

#shopepapillomavirus #rabbits #popcryptids #jackalope #frankenbunnies #cryptids
Sharon A. Hill @[email protected] · 2025-08-16 · 18:59 UTC

Pop cryptid in the News: Jackalope
An outbreak of Shope papillomavirus in Colorado is in the news for the past few weeks. The virus that causes warty growths in cottontail rabbits can be spread by ticks and usually aren’t fatal to the animal unless it interferes with their eyes or mouth.
Rabbits with severe cases of this condition overlaps with ideas about the infamous horned rabbit, the Jackalope. I’ve seen several displays of news or comments on this story that confirm that people really do not know anything about the disease or the history of the American Jackalope legend. They are confused about what is happening with these rabbits and calling them “Jackalopes”.
Some of the kids are amazed. Jackalopes are REAL! And several media outlets are not capable of making real nature stories not look like clickbait by calling the infected animals “Frankenbunnies” and “demon rabbits” because nothing matters today unless it has a stupidly exaggerated name. Tabloid trash says we’re being “invaded” or “overrun”. Nonsense.
I did find videos and references to “Frankenstein” rabbits from at least 12 years ago, even from the Smithsonian Magazine, so it’s not a new thing, but that doesn’t make it less silly. This should be a learning moment. I think, for the most part, it is, if the audience would just listen instead of being so overdramatic.
Screen cap from a 2013 video of an infected rabbit from Minnesota
I pulled out and revamped my content on jackalopes that I wrote in Pop Cryptid Spectator 3 to revisit this topic.
Pop Cryptid: Jackalope
A major theme of the Pop Goes the Cryptid model is the never-ending dispute about calling something a “cryptid”. Today’s complicated example: the Jackalope – a creature that is well-associated with being a “cryptid” online but that almost everyone who knows some history of cryptozoology will insist is not a cryptid because it’s a mythical creature, a hoax.
With the public now seeing rabbits with horny growths and “tentacles” (you weirdo writers need to stop with the Call of Cthulhu), a realization is happening in the cryptid forums and social media that maybe there was something to the idea of a Jackalope as a real animal. But, it’s not simple or direct. Things that evolve in culture never are.
My reference is On the Trail of the Jackalope (2022) by Michael Branch, a comprehensive book that mostly treats the creature as a cultural creation but also briefly explores the idea of its cryptidness.
Animals suffering from the virus were seen by most hunters as suffering from some disease. It’s not hard to figure out. The dark, grotesque growths don’t resemble antlers. The Jackalope, proper, is an antlered jackrabbit or cottontail. So, to equate the two situations is an error.

The true home of the American Jackalope is Douglas, Wyoming where the first taxidermied example was made. The legend goes that it was created sometime between 1932 and 1940 by Douglas Herrick. This is from Branch’s book:
“One day young Doug and Ralph Herrick went out roaming the green hills hunting for small game to supplement the family supper. Having bagged a jackrabbit, the brothers returned home and tossed the hare’s body onto the floor of their shop in preparation to skin it. Because they had recently butchered a small deer in the shop, a modest pair of antlers already rested on the floor. By a sheer coincidence that would change the boys’ lives forever, the dead rabbit happened to slide up against the deer’s horns so as to make it appear the jackrabbit sported the rack.”
The resulting mount was exhibited at the Hotel LaBonte in the town which was ground zero for the legend and the commercialization of the creature. Creation of Jackalope mounts has become a cottage industry and is now well known worldwide as a symbol of the American West.
“[T]he horned rabbit is unalloyed Americana—a genuine artifact of this country’s folk culture—the mythical beast has also made its way across the oceans and around the world.”
According to the locals, says Branch, about half the visitors to Douglas leave believing the animals are real. Do they believe, or are they just having fun believing? Hard to judge. The same might be said about most cryptids as people like to imagine that tall tales are true because it makes life seem magical. This remains a strong theme in the Jackalope biography.
Jackalope from the video game Red Dead Redemption
The horned rabbit
Cottontail rabbits with horn-like protuberances over various parts of their bodies, particularly their heads, were found to be infected with a type of papillomavirus. There can be little doubt that such stricken rabbits would be viewed as mysterious, then and now.
Branch notes that the prevalence of the horned rabbit across cultures suggests that they were at least somewhat based on these natural anomalies. But the precursors to the American Jackalope are numerous. The specific Jackalope may be a Wyoming invention, but it was not the first depiction of the horned rabbit.
In the early days of natural history, the “horned rabbit” was assumed to be a real, genuine, unique animal because witnesses said so. Early naturalists such as Conrad Gessner, Joris Hoefnagel (16th century) and others depicted the horned hare as a real animal. Later, other natural historians weren’t so sure, but this uncertainty about its existence and speculation on the cause of horned hares undoubtedly sounds like the modern idea of a “cryptid”. There is a good bet that the horned hare was at least somewhat based on the diseased animals.

There is also the wolpertinger, an even more badass bunny with not only antlers, but fangs and wings. Or, it was a more bizarre mashup of various birds, squirrels, and foxes. Again, it’s unclear if the virus-related growths helped spread this story. But if so, it was for inspiration only, because Wolpertingers are absurd in appearance. Depictions of wolpertingers originated in Bavaria where taxidermied hoaxes were popular in the 1800s with tourists. Therefore, it’s reasonable to say that the Wolpertinger was a valid ancestor of the Jackalope.
Wolpertinger edited from Young Hare, a painting of a hare by Albrecht Dürer
Is the Jackalope a cryptid?
The world was a different place centuries (or even decades) ago. Ideas and language change. We know more about what’s in the world and what isn’t.
If we go by the general cryptid definition of “an animal/entity that is believed to be real but not recognized by zoology” then the Jackalope can claim the title of an official cryptid. There have been stories of people claiming to see real jackalopes (as in antlered hares) or infected cottontails. There’s a good chance these have been conflated.
Ample evidence shows that most people are entirely ignorant of wildlife in their own backyard, let alone the zoological catalog of known animals. As with everything else in the modern world, we get our information from popular culture, not too much directly from qualified scientific experts. So, it not surprising that an average person would 1.) not know about Shope papilloma infected rabbits and how they look, and 2.) that there is not such animal as an antlered rabbit. For the latter, we have to understand that basic schooling doesn’t teach zoology, and many kids know nothing about nature. (A high percentage of the population does not understand basic geography or scientific explanations about the earth.) So, it is not surprising to me that some people might think jackalopes are plausible. Their appearance in popular culture might suggest to people who didn’t know any better that they are real. This latest hype about “frankenbunnies” also muddies the waters because people are getting poorly sourced “WTF is that!”-type coverage, instead of factual information.

Branch quotes Loren Coleman who runs the International Cryptozoology Museum regarding his inclusion of the Jackalope in the museum: “I would read visitors’ online comments… and they would say things like ‘I didn’t know that the jackalope really existed.’ ” Coleman continues by explaining he reorganized the exhibit to depict the Jackalope along with other hoaxes. To me, there is a lot to unpack in that anecdote. Do we really know which cryptid is a manufactured hoax, which are imaginary creatures that people wish to be real, which are mistaken IDs influenced by lore and campfire tales, and which are real animals? The line is very blurry and all the information isn’t available to most people.
The fact is, Pop Cryptids are what’s happening. Any weird animal that is legendary, mythical, or just plain-old manufactured on a whim are being called “cryptids”. And there is nothing any “cryptozoologist” can do to change it, no matter how much they indignantly rant about it.
A Jackalope design for pins and tees on TeePublic.
People are viewing cryptids through various lenses (zoological, artistic, historical, cultural, etc.) If people wish to believe horned rabbits (jackalopes, wolpertingers, or other variations) are real animals hopping around in an alternative reality, that’s OK by me, as long as they aren’t declaring that in biology class. It’s important to recognize that horned rabbits have a history that can be legitimately viewed with a zoological lens. However, the history is fraught with flips, twists, and turns.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M0y-RAXsEQ8
#cryptids #Frankenbunnies #Jackalope #popCryptids #rabbits #ShopePapillomaVirus
https://sharonahill.com/?p=10189

#cryptids #frankenbunnies #jackalope #popcryptids #rabbits #shopepapillomavirus
Afrique @[email protected] · 2026-04-03 · 16:31 UTC

https://www.europesays.com/afrique/65197/ الركراكي ورينارد à l’affût… Love répond à sa nomination pour diriger le Ghana au Mondial #CoupeDuMonde #Ghana #GhanaVsPanama #HRenard #JLoew #JoachimLow #Mercato #OAddo #panama #Transfers #WRegragui #WorldCup

#worldcup #wregragui #transfers #panama #oaddo #mercato
Habr @[email protected] · 2026-05-04 · 09:22 UTC

Как мы сделали SEO-блог из 84 страниц на трёх языках через Claude API: рабочий рецепт и вещи, которые пошли не так
Делимся рабочим рецептом: SEO‑блог на 84 страницах в трёх языках (RU/KK/EN) через Claude API за три дня. Внутри — почему мы храним статьи как TypeScript‑объекты вместо Markdown, как собрать system prompt на 360 строк, чтобы Claude корректно ставил internal‑ссылки, как генерим уникальные OG‑обложки через Gemini + PIL, и где AI стабильно косячит те 30% работы, которые всё равно делает человек.
https://habr.com/ru/articles/1031082/
#Claude_API #Anthropic #SEO #Nextjs #TypeScript #AIгенерация_контента #промптинжиниринг #hreflang #мультиязычный
__сайт #автоматизация_контента

#автоматизация_контента #мультиязычный #hreflang #промптинжиниринг #aiгенерация_контента #typescript
Sharon A. Hill @[email protected] · 2025-01-17 · 16:58 UTC
Pop Cryptid Spectator 3
In this edition:
- Green Eyes and the explosion of cryptid festivals
- Appalachian folk horror
- Cryptid Media – Folk horror resurgence/British Cryptids
- Pop Cryptid – Jackalope or nope?
Hello and welcome to the 3rd edition of the Pop Cryptid Spectator – my chronicle of observing the changing appearance of and attitudes towards “cryptids” in popular culture. My interest is in exploring the expansion of cryptozoology into a mass cultural phenomenon – a cornucopia of strange entities that are labeled as “cryptids”. We can see a proliferation of popular cryptids in American culture and worldwide, largely in part to newer media and communication platforms, allowing their stories to spread (and evolve) like never before. Cryptid stories can be viewed through different lenses – a point that I make with several illustrative examples.
Green Eyes and the Explosion of Cryptid Festivals
Winter is the slow season for town festivals. Now is the time where organizers are planning their summer and fall events. A new event, the Green Eyes Festival in Chickamauga, Georgia, premiered in 2024 and was a great success for the small town mostly known for its Civil War battlefield. Old Green Eyes most certainly falls into the category of Pop Cryptid, since it has no significant provenance and is more like a ghost story. The creature’s form varies widely, being a ghost or ghoul prowling the fields of the dead, or can be more like a big cat or hairy monster. The commonality is the glowing green eyes. In a recent interview on the Monster Talk podcast, the founders of the festival revealed that they knew little of “cryptids” beforehand. The two young marketing professionals had heard the spooky stories, of course, but didn’t see it as an opportunity until they visited another well-known festival. As with most modern cryptid town events, inspiration inevitably traces back to the world-renowned Mothman Festival of Point Pleasant, West Virginia. It’s the OG event that launched a hundred imitators (and growing).
Green Eyes has no established canonical legend and, as such, its story evolves as others tell it. While some may argue it’s not a cryptid at all because of the lack of a zoological lens through which to view it, as part of the Pop Cryptid model I argue that any mystery creature that people say may exist (in whatever corporeal or incorporeal form), but can’t be pinned down, falls under the popular idea of a “cryptid” and will be labeled as such.

More: About Cryptid Festivals, and a Parade of Cryptids in Small town USA. Check the list of cryptid festivals in the US and see if one is near you.
Appalachian Folk horror
Sheepsquatch
Possibly more than any other US location, small towns in Appalachia are embracing their local legends and sprucing up the image of their local creature. Appalachian folklore, often exaggerated, is packaged and sold on media platforms. The reasons for this surge in place legends is complex and somewhat disputed – likely in response to populism, a need for enchantment, and a fascination with magic and mystery in your own backyard. Some social commentators (i.e., podcasters and TikTokkers) are suggesting that the Appalachian mountains are so old that ancient eldritch beings still exist here. Ok, then…
It might just be my TikTok feed but cryptid content goes hand in hand with claims of uncanny animals and evil zooform entities that you will encounter if you venture off the trail in the eastern forests. Eh, whatev… People have totally lost touch with nature and, therefore, it’s fairly easy to freak them out. The Appalachians are culturally rich and diverse. Unfortunately, as with indigenous folklore, legends and tales from a previous time and place are being enhanced and monetized for podcasts and videos. You might consider it visual Creepypasta as creators are taking bits from old or new scary stories and manufacturing fakelore.
Cryptid Media
Folk horror resurgence – British Cryptids
It’s not just the Appalachians experiencing rising interest in the past several years with the likes of Mothman, goatman, “not deer“, and areas of high strangeness. The folk horror genre is seeing worldwide popularity. Folk horror focuses on a place, local behaviors, traditions, and history to create a sense of foreboding, particularly to the outsider who comes into the scene unaware. Aspect of folk horror include occult figures like witches, or threats from demons or Satan itself. Monstrous beings also play a big role.
In a blend of folk horror and satire (with the occasionally ancient nude), the YouTube channel British Cryptids manufactured several new cryptids under the guise of lost documentaries from 1974. The series provides a sense of nostalgia as well as unsettling confusion about what’s real and what’s imaginary. Check out their channel where the titles include ‘Yorkshire Yeti’, ‘The Hereford Twiggywitch’, ‘Stag Men’, ’The Souter Sea Wolf’, ‘The Cumbrian Dregpike’ and ‘The Woodwose of Cannock Chase’. It’s like a sophisticated version of Fearsome Creatures made famous as North American lumberjack tales – they sound plausible, if you are out alone in the dark.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m0-lAdhxX7U
Pop Cryptid: Jackalope
A major theme of the Pop Goes the Cryptid model is the never-ending dispute about calling something a “cryptid”. As an example, I’m going to jump right into the deep end and talk about the Jackalope, a creature that is well-associated with “cryptid” online but that almost everyone who knows some history of the topic will say is not a cryptid because it’s a mythical creature, a hoax. Not so fast…
The world was a different place centuries (or even decades) ago. Ideas and language change. If we go by the general cryptid definition of “an animal/entity that is believed to be real but not recognized by zoology” then the Jackalope has a chance to be an official cryptid. There certainly are some people who have seen so many Jackalope depictions, yet do not know their taxidermic history, that they may assume they were a real animal. And, in the early days of natural history, the “horned rabbit” was assumed to be a real, genuine, unique animal because witnesses said so.
My reference is On the Trail of the Jackalope (2022) by Michael Branch, a comprehensive book that mostly treats the creature as a cultural creation but also briefly explores the idea of its cryptidness.
“[T]he horned rabbit is unalloyed Americana—a genuine artifact of this country’s folk culture—the mythical beast has also made its way across the oceans and around the world.”
The true home of the American Jackalope is Douglas, Wyoming where, according to the locals, about half the visitors leave believing the animals are real. Do they believe, or are they just having fun believing? Hard to judge. The same might be said about most cryptids as people like to imagine that tall tales are true because it makes life seem magical. This remains a strong theme in the Jackalope biography.
Jackalope from the video game Red Dead Redemption
One can argue that a “horned rabbit” is a real thing. Cottontail rabbits with horn-like protuberances over various parts of their bodies, particularly their heads, were found to be infected with a type of papillomavirus. There can be little doubt that such stricken rabbits would be viewed as mysterious, then and now. Branch notes that the prevalence of the horned rabbit across cultures suggests that they were at least somewhat based on these natural anomalies. Branch explains that precursors to the American Jackalope are numerous. The specific Jackalope may be a Wyoming invention, but it was not the first depiction of the horned rabbit.

Early naturalists such as Conrad Gessner, Joris Hoefnagel (16th century) and others depicted the horned hare as a real animal. Later, other natural historians weren’t so sure, but this uncertainty about its existence and speculation on the cause of horned hares undoubtedly sounds like the modern idea of a “cryptid”.
But this is the 21st century. We know better now, right?
There is ample evidence to show that most people are entirely ignorant of wildlife in their own backyard, let alone the zoological catalog of known animals. As with everything else in the modern world, we get our information from popular culture, not too much directly from qualified scientific experts. Branch quotes Loren Coleman who runs the International Cryptozoology Museum regarding his inclusion of the Jackalope in the museum: “I would read visitors’ online comments… and they would say things like ‘I didn’t know that the jackalope really existed.’ ” Coleman continues by explaining he reorganized the exhibit to depict the Jackalope along with other hoaxes. To me, there is a lot to unpack in that anecdote. Do we really know which cryptid is a manufactured hoax, which are imaginary creatures that people wish to be real, which are mistaken IDs influenced by lore and campfire tales, and which are real animals? The line is very blurry and all the information is not in. (P-G film, anyone?)
I’ve greatly expanded my idea regarding what a cryptid is in the past few years. I recognize that different people are viewing cryptids through various lenses (zoological, artistic, historical, cultural, etc.) If people wish to believe horned rabbits (jackalopes, wolpertingers, or other variations) are real animals hopping around in an alternative reality, that’s OK by me, as long as they aren’t declaring that in biology class. It’s important to recognize that horned rabbits have a history that can be legitimately viewed with a zoological lens, making them not dissimilar to the history of the “Kraken” that many assume equates to the giant squid (I don’t, but that’s another complicated story), or the merfolk, which are assumed to be misidentified aquatic mammals like dugongs and manatees. The history is muddy and fraught with flips, twists, and turns. The modern “expert cryptozoologist” statements discounting any creatures as “mythological” and not worthy of the label “cryptid” don’t hold much weight. People will believe whatever they want.
There was not a common word for creatures of dubious existence, until “cryptid”. Cryptids as general “mysterious animals” has come into its own as a useful label. We know this because that is how it’s widely employed in popular culture today. It’s your point of view about reality that may vary.

For more, click on Pop goes the Cryptid landing page. While you’re there, make sure you subscribe to all the posts – it’s always free and I don’t send annoying spam.
You can email me with comments, suggestions or questions at Popcryptid(at)proton.me
Pop Cryptid Spectator Pop Cryptid Spectator 15

Pop Cryptid Spectator 15

Pop Cryptid Spectator 14

Pop Cryptid Spectator 14

Pop Cryptid Spectator 13

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Pop Cryptid Spectator 6

Pop Cryptid Spectator 6

Pop Cryptid Spectator 5

Pop Cryptid Spectator 5

Pop Cryptid Spectator 4

Pop Cryptid Spectator 4

Pop Cryptid Spectator 2

Pop Cryptid Spectator 2

#1 #2 #AICryptids #Bigfoot #BigfootHuntersDie #cryptid #cryptidFake #cryptidTVShow #giantOwls #GodzillaSighting #GoogleEarth #HoodCryptids #OutThereCrimesOfTheParanormal #popCryptids #scryptids #Skinwalker #TheCryptidFactor #Wendigo
https://sharonahill.com/?p=9171
#appalachia #britishcryptids #cryptid #cryptidfestival #cryptids #folkhorror
Sharon A. Hill @[email protected] · 2025-01-17 · 16:58 UTC
Pop Cryptid Spectator 3
In this edition:
- Green Eyes and the explosion of cryptid festivals
- Appalachian folk horror
- Cryptid Media – Folk horror resurgence/British Cryptids
- Pop Cryptid – Jackalope or nope?
Hello and welcome to the 3rd edition of the Pop Cryptid Spectator – my chronicle of observing the changing appearance of and attitudes towards “cryptids” in popular culture. My interest is in exploring the expansion of cryptozoology into a mass cultural phenomenon – a cornucopia of strange entities that are labeled as “cryptids”. We can see a proliferation of popular cryptids in American culture and worldwide, largely in part to newer media and communication platforms, allowing their stories to spread (and evolve) like never before. Cryptid stories can be viewed through different lenses – a point that I make with several illustrative examples.
Green Eyes and the Explosion of Cryptid Festivals
Winter is the slow season for town festivals. Now is the time where organizers are planning their summer and fall events. A new event, the Green Eyes Festival in Chickamauga, Georgia, premiered in 2024 and was a great success for the small town mostly known for its Civil War battlefield. Old Green Eyes most certainly falls into the category of Pop Cryptid, since it has no significant provenance and is more like a ghost story. The creature’s form varies widely, being a ghost or ghoul prowling the fields of the dead, or can be more like a big cat or hairy monster. The commonality is the glowing green eyes. In a recent interview on the Monster Talk podcast, the founders of the festival revealed that they knew little of “cryptids” beforehand. The two young marketing professionals had heard the spooky stories, of course, but didn’t see it as an opportunity until they visited another well-known festival. As with most modern cryptid town events, inspiration inevitably traces back to the world-renowned Mothman Festival of Point Pleasant, West Virginia. It’s the OG event that launched a hundred imitators (and growing).
Green Eyes has no established canonical legend and, as such, its story evolves as others tell it. While some may argue it’s not a cryptid at all because of the lack of a zoological lens through which to view it, as part of the Pop Cryptid model I argue that any mystery creature that people say may exist (in whatever corporeal or incorporeal form), but can’t be pinned down, falls under the popular idea of a “cryptid” and will be labeled as such.

More: About Cryptid Festivals, and a Parade of Cryptids in Small town USA. Check the list of cryptid festivals in the US and see if one is near you.
Appalachian Folk horror
Sheepsquatch
Possibly more than any other US location, small towns in Appalachia are embracing their local legends and sprucing up the image of their local creature. Appalachian folklore, often exaggerated, is packaged and sold on media platforms. The reasons for this surge in place legends is complex and somewhat disputed – likely in response to populism, a need for enchantment, and a fascination with magic and mystery in your own backyard. Some social commentators (i.e., podcasters and TikTokkers) are suggesting that the Appalachian mountains are so old that ancient eldritch beings still exist here. Ok, then…
It might just be my TikTok feed but cryptid content goes hand in hand with claims of uncanny animals and evil zooform entities that you will encounter if you venture off the trail in the eastern forests. Eh, whatev… People have totally lost touch with nature and, therefore, it’s fairly easy to freak them out. The Appalachians are culturally rich and diverse. Unfortunately, as with indigenous folklore, legends and tales from a previous time and place are being enhanced and monetized for podcasts and videos. You might consider it visual Creepypasta as creators are taking bits from old or new scary stories and manufacturing fakelore.
Cryptid Media
Folk horror resurgence – British Cryptids
It’s not just the Appalachians experiencing rising interest in the past several years with the likes of Mothman, goatman, “not deer“, and areas of high strangeness. The folk horror genre is seeing worldwide popularity. Folk horror focuses on a place, local behaviors, traditions, and history to create a sense of foreboding, particularly to the outsider who comes into the scene unaware. Aspect of folk horror include occult figures like witches, or threats from demons or Satan itself. Monstrous beings also play a big role.
In a blend of folk horror and satire (with the occasionally ancient nude), the YouTube channel British Cryptids manufactured several new cryptids under the guise of lost documentaries from 1974. The series provides a sense of nostalgia as well as unsettling confusion about what’s real and what’s imaginary. Check out their channel where the titles include ‘Yorkshire Yeti’, ‘The Hereford Twiggywitch’, ‘Stag Men’, ’The Souter Sea Wolf’, ‘The Cumbrian Dregpike’ and ‘The Woodwose of Cannock Chase’. It’s like a sophisticated version of Fearsome Creatures made famous as North American lumberjack tales – they sound plausible, if you are out alone in the dark.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m0-lAdhxX7U
Pop Cryptid: Jackalope
A major theme of the Pop Goes the Cryptid model is the never-ending dispute about calling something a “cryptid”. As an example, I’m going to jump right into the deep end and talk about the Jackalope, a creature that is well-associated with “cryptid” online but that almost everyone who knows some history of the topic will say is not a cryptid because it’s a mythical creature, a hoax. Not so fast…
The world was a different place centuries (or even decades) ago. Ideas and language change. If we go by the general cryptid definition of “an animal/entity that is believed to be real but not recognized by zoology” then the Jackalope has a chance to be an official cryptid. There certainly are some people who have seen so many Jackalope depictions, yet do not know their taxidermic history, that they may assume they were a real animal. And, in the early days of natural history, the “horned rabbit” was assumed to be a real, genuine, unique animal because witnesses said so.
My reference is On the Trail of the Jackalope (2022) by Michael Branch, a comprehensive book that mostly treats the creature as a cultural creation but also briefly explores the idea of its cryptidness.
“[T]he horned rabbit is unalloyed Americana—a genuine artifact of this country’s folk culture—the mythical beast has also made its way across the oceans and around the world.”
The true home of the American Jackalope is Douglas, Wyoming where, according to the locals, about half the visitors leave believing the animals are real. Do they believe, or are they just having fun believing? Hard to judge. The same might be said about most cryptids as people like to imagine that tall tales are true because it makes life seem magical. This remains a strong theme in the Jackalope biography.
Jackalope from the video game Red Dead Redemption
One can argue that a “horned rabbit” is a real thing. Cottontail rabbits with horn-like protuberances over various parts of their bodies, particularly their heads, were found to be infected with a type of papillomavirus. There can be little doubt that such stricken rabbits would be viewed as mysterious, then and now. Branch notes that the prevalence of the horned rabbit across cultures suggests that they were at least somewhat based on these natural anomalies. Branch explains that precursors to the American Jackalope are numerous. The specific Jackalope may be a Wyoming invention, but it was not the first depiction of the horned rabbit.

Early naturalists such as Conrad Gessner, Joris Hoefnagel (16th century) and others depicted the horned hare as a real animal. Later, other natural historians weren’t so sure, but this uncertainty about its existence and speculation on the cause of horned hares undoubtedly sounds like the modern idea of a “cryptid”.
But this is the 21st century. We know better now, right?
There is ample evidence to show that most people are entirely ignorant of wildlife in their own backyard, let alone the zoological catalog of known animals. As with everything else in the modern world, we get our information from popular culture, not too much directly from qualified scientific experts. Branch quotes Loren Coleman who runs the International Cryptozoology Museum regarding his inclusion of the Jackalope in the museum: “I would read visitors’ online comments… and they would say things like ‘I didn’t know that the jackalope really existed.’ ” Coleman continues by explaining he reorganized the exhibit to depict the Jackalope along with other hoaxes. To me, there is a lot to unpack in that anecdote. Do we really know which cryptid is a manufactured hoax, which are imaginary creatures that people wish to be real, which are mistaken IDs influenced by lore and campfire tales, and which are real animals? The line is very blurry and all the information is not in. (P-G film, anyone?)
I’ve greatly expanded my idea regarding what a cryptid is in the past few years. I recognize that different people are viewing cryptids through various lenses (zoological, artistic, historical, cultural, etc.) If people wish to believe horned rabbits (jackalopes, wolpertingers, or other variations) are real animals hopping around in an alternative reality, that’s OK by me, as long as they aren’t declaring that in biology class. It’s important to recognize that horned rabbits have a history that can be legitimately viewed with a zoological lens, making them not dissimilar to the history of the “Kraken” that many assume equates to the giant squid (I don’t, but that’s another complicated story), or the merfolk, which are assumed to be misidentified aquatic mammals like dugongs and manatees. The history is muddy and fraught with flips, twists, and turns. The modern “expert cryptozoologist” statements discounting any creatures as “mythological” and not worthy of the label “cryptid” don’t hold much weight. People will believe whatever they want.
There was not a common word for creatures of dubious existence, until “cryptid”. Cryptids as general “mysterious animals” has come into its own as a useful label. We know this because that is how it’s widely employed in popular culture today. It’s your point of view about reality that may vary.

For more, click on Pop goes the Cryptid landing page. While you’re there, make sure you subscribe to all the posts – it’s always free and I don’t send annoying spam.
You can email me with comments, suggestions or questions at Popcryptid(at)proton.me
Pop Cryptid Spectator Pop Cryptid Spectator 15

Pop Cryptid Spectator 15

Pop Cryptid Spectator 14

Pop Cryptid Spectator 14

Pop Cryptid Spectator 13

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Pop Cryptid Spectator 2

Pop Cryptid Spectator 2

#1 #2 #AICryptids #Bigfoot #BigfootHuntersDie #cryptid #cryptidFake #cryptidTVShow #giantOwls #GodzillaSighting #GoogleEarth #HoodCryptids #OutThereCrimesOfTheParanormal #popCryptids #scryptids #Skinwalker #TheCryptidFactor #Wendigo
https://sharonahill.com/?p=9171
#appalachia #britishcryptids #cryptid #cryptidfestival #cryptids #folkhorror
Sharon A. Hill @[email protected] · 2025-01-17 · 16:58 UTC
Pop Cryptid Spectator 3
In this edition:
- Green Eyes and the explosion of cryptid festivals
- Appalachian folk horror
- Cryptid Media – Folk horror resurgence/British Cryptids
- Pop Cryptid – Jackalope or nope?
Hello and welcome to the 3rd edition of the Pop Cryptid Spectator – my chronicle of observing the changing appearance of and attitudes towards “cryptids” in popular culture. My interest is in exploring the expansion of cryptozoology into a mass cultural phenomenon – a cornucopia of strange entities that are labeled as “cryptids”. We can see a proliferation of popular cryptids in American culture and worldwide, largely in part to newer media and communication platforms, allowing their stories to spread (and evolve) like never before. Cryptid stories can be viewed through different lenses – a point that I make with several illustrative examples.
Green Eyes and the Explosion of Cryptid Festivals
Winter is the slow season for town festivals. Now is the time where organizers are planning their summer and fall events. A new event, the Green Eyes Festival in Chickamauga, Georgia, premiered in 2024 and was a great success for the small town mostly known for its Civil War battlefield. Old Green Eyes most certainly falls into the category of Pop Cryptid, since it has no significant provenance and is more like a ghost story. The creature’s form varies widely, being a ghost or ghoul prowling the fields of the dead, or can be more like a big cat or hairy monster. The commonality is the glowing green eyes. In a recent interview on the Monster Talk podcast, the founders of the festival revealed that they knew little of “cryptids” beforehand. The two young marketing professionals had heard the spooky stories, of course, but didn’t see it as an opportunity until they visited another well-known festival. As with most modern cryptid town events, inspiration inevitably traces back to the world-renowned Mothman Festival of Point Pleasant, West Virginia. It’s the OG event that launched a hundred imitators (and growing).
Green Eyes has no established canonical legend and, as such, its story evolves as others tell it. While some may argue it’s not a cryptid at all because of the lack of a zoological lens through which to view it, as part of the Pop Cryptid model I argue that any mystery creature that people say may exist (in whatever corporeal or incorporeal form), but can’t be pinned down, falls under the popular idea of a “cryptid” and will be labeled as such.

More: About Cryptid Festivals, and a Parade of Cryptids in Small town USA. Check the list of cryptid festivals in the US and see if one is near you.
Appalachian Folk horror
Sheepsquatch
Possibly more than any other US location, small towns in Appalachia are embracing their local legends and sprucing up the image of their local creature. Appalachian folklore, often exaggerated, is packaged and sold on media platforms. The reasons for this surge in place legends is complex and somewhat disputed – likely in response to populism, a need for enchantment, and a fascination with magic and mystery in your own backyard. Some social commentators (i.e., podcasters and TikTokkers) are suggesting that the Appalachian mountains are so old that ancient eldritch beings still exist here. Ok, then…
It might just be my TikTok feed but cryptid content goes hand in hand with claims of uncanny animals and evil zooform entities that you will encounter if you venture off the trail in the eastern forests. Eh, whatev… People have totally lost touch with nature and, therefore, it’s fairly easy to freak them out. The Appalachians are culturally rich and diverse. Unfortunately, as with indigenous folklore, legends and tales from a previous time and place are being enhanced and monetized for podcasts and videos. You might consider it visual Creepypasta as creators are taking bits from old or new scary stories and manufacturing fakelore.
Cryptid Media
Folk horror resurgence – British Cryptids
It’s not just the Appalachians experiencing rising interest in the past several years with the likes of Mothman, goatman, “not deer“, and areas of high strangeness. The folk horror genre is seeing worldwide popularity. Folk horror focuses on a place, local behaviors, traditions, and history to create a sense of foreboding, particularly to the outsider who comes into the scene unaware. Aspect of folk horror include occult figures like witches, or threats from demons or Satan itself. Monstrous beings also play a big role.
In a blend of folk horror and satire (with the occasionally ancient nude), the YouTube channel British Cryptids manufactured several new cryptids under the guise of lost documentaries from 1974. The series provides a sense of nostalgia as well as unsettling confusion about what’s real and what’s imaginary. Check out their channel where the titles include ‘Yorkshire Yeti’, ‘The Hereford Twiggywitch’, ‘Stag Men’, ’The Souter Sea Wolf’, ‘The Cumbrian Dregpike’ and ‘The Woodwose of Cannock Chase’. It’s like a sophisticated version of Fearsome Creatures made famous as North American lumberjack tales – they sound plausible, if you are out alone in the dark.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m0-lAdhxX7U
Pop Cryptid: Jackalope
A major theme of the Pop Goes the Cryptid model is the never-ending dispute about calling something a “cryptid”. As an example, I’m going to jump right into the deep end and talk about the Jackalope, a creature that is well-associated with “cryptid” online but that almost everyone who knows some history of the topic will say is not a cryptid because it’s a mythical creature, a hoax. Not so fast…
The world was a different place centuries (or even decades) ago. Ideas and language change. If we go by the general cryptid definition of “an animal/entity that is believed to be real but not recognized by zoology” then the Jackalope has a chance to be an official cryptid. There certainly are some people who have seen so many Jackalope depictions, yet do not know their taxidermic history, that they may assume they were a real animal. And, in the early days of natural history, the “horned rabbit” was assumed to be a real, genuine, unique animal because witnesses said so.
My reference is On the Trail of the Jackalope (2022) by Michael Branch, a comprehensive book that mostly treats the creature as a cultural creation but also briefly explores the idea of its cryptidness.
“[T]he horned rabbit is unalloyed Americana—a genuine artifact of this country’s folk culture—the mythical beast has also made its way across the oceans and around the world.”
The true home of the American Jackalope is Douglas, Wyoming where, according to the locals, about half the visitors leave believing the animals are real. Do they believe, or are they just having fun believing? Hard to judge. The same might be said about most cryptids as people like to imagine that tall tales are true because it makes life seem magical. This remains a strong theme in the Jackalope biography.
Jackalope from the video game Red Dead Redemption
One can argue that a “horned rabbit” is a real thing. Cottontail rabbits with horn-like protuberances over various parts of their bodies, particularly their heads, were found to be infected with a type of papillomavirus. There can be little doubt that such stricken rabbits would be viewed as mysterious, then and now. Branch notes that the prevalence of the horned rabbit across cultures suggests that they were at least somewhat based on these natural anomalies. Branch explains that precursors to the American Jackalope are numerous. The specific Jackalope may be a Wyoming invention, but it was not the first depiction of the horned rabbit.

Early naturalists such as Conrad Gessner, Joris Hoefnagel (16th century) and others depicted the horned hare as a real animal. Later, other natural historians weren’t so sure, but this uncertainty about its existence and speculation on the cause of horned hares undoubtedly sounds like the modern idea of a “cryptid”.
But this is the 21st century. We know better now, right?
There is ample evidence to show that most people are entirely ignorant of wildlife in their own backyard, let alone the zoological catalog of known animals. As with everything else in the modern world, we get our information from popular culture, not too much directly from qualified scientific experts. Branch quotes Loren Coleman who runs the International Cryptozoology Museum regarding his inclusion of the Jackalope in the museum: “I would read visitors’ online comments… and they would say things like ‘I didn’t know that the jackalope really existed.’ ” Coleman continues by explaining he reorganized the exhibit to depict the Jackalope along with other hoaxes. To me, there is a lot to unpack in that anecdote. Do we really know which cryptid is a manufactured hoax, which are imaginary creatures that people wish to be real, which are mistaken IDs influenced by lore and campfire tales, and which are real animals? The line is very blurry and all the information is not in. (P-G film, anyone?)
I’ve greatly expanded my idea regarding what a cryptid is in the past few years. I recognize that different people are viewing cryptids through various lenses (zoological, artistic, historical, cultural, etc.) If people wish to believe horned rabbits (jackalopes, wolpertingers, or other variations) are real animals hopping around in an alternative reality, that’s OK by me, as long as they aren’t declaring that in biology class. It’s important to recognize that horned rabbits have a history that can be legitimately viewed with a zoological lens, making them not dissimilar to the history of the “Kraken” that many assume equates to the giant squid (I don’t, but that’s another complicated story), or the merfolk, which are assumed to be misidentified aquatic mammals like dugongs and manatees. The history is muddy and fraught with flips, twists, and turns. The modern “expert cryptozoologist” statements discounting any creatures as “mythological” and not worthy of the label “cryptid” don’t hold much weight. People will believe whatever they want.
There was not a common word for creatures of dubious existence, until “cryptid”. Cryptids as general “mysterious animals” has come into its own as a useful label. We know this because that is how it’s widely employed in popular culture today. It’s your point of view about reality that may vary.

For more, click on Pop goes the Cryptid landing page. While you’re there, make sure you subscribe to all the posts – it’s always free and I don’t send annoying spam.
You can email me with comments, suggestions or questions at Popcryptid(at)proton.me
Pop Cryptid Spectator Pop Cryptid Spectator 15

Pop Cryptid Spectator 15

Pop Cryptid Spectator 14

Pop Cryptid Spectator 14

Pop Cryptid Spectator 13

Pop Cryptid Spectator 13

Pop Cryptid Spectator 12

Pop Cryptid Spectator 12

Pop Cryptid Spectator 11

Pop Cryptid Spectator 11

Pop Cryptid Spectator 10

Pop Cryptid Spectator 10

Pop Cryptid Spectator 9

Pop Cryptid Spectator 9

Pop Cryptid Spectator 8

Pop Cryptid Spectator 8

Pop Cryptid Spectator 7

Pop Cryptid Spectator 7

Pop Cryptid Spectator 6

Pop Cryptid Spectator 6

Pop Cryptid Spectator 5

Pop Cryptid Spectator 5

Pop Cryptid Spectator 4

Pop Cryptid Spectator 4

Pop Cryptid Spectator 2

Pop Cryptid Spectator 2

#1 #2 #AICryptids #Bigfoot #BigfootHuntersDie #cryptid #cryptidFake #cryptidTVShow #giantOwls #GodzillaSighting #GoogleEarth #HoodCryptids #OutThereCrimesOfTheParanormal #popCryptids #scryptids #Skinwalker #TheCryptidFactor #Wendigo
https://sharonahill.com/?p=9171
#popcryptidspectator #popcryptid #mythologicalcreatures #mothman #jackalope #hornedrabbit
Sharon A. Hill @[email protected] · 2025-01-17 · 16:58 UTC
Pop Cryptid Spectator 3
In this edition:
- Green Eyes and the explosion of cryptid festivals
- Appalachian folk horror
- Cryptid Media – Folk horror resurgence/British Cryptids
- Pop Cryptid – Jackalope or nope?
Hello and welcome to the 3rd edition of the Pop Cryptid Spectator – my chronicle of observing the changing appearance of and attitudes towards “cryptids” in popular culture. My interest is in exploring the expansion of cryptozoology into a mass cultural phenomenon – a cornucopia of strange entities that are labeled as “cryptids”. We can see a proliferation of popular cryptids in American culture and worldwide, largely in part to newer media and communication platforms, allowing their stories to spread (and evolve) like never before. Cryptid stories can be viewed through different lenses – a point that I make with several illustrative examples.
Green Eyes and the Explosion of Cryptid Festivals
Winter is the slow season for town festivals. Now is the time where organizers are planning their summer and fall events. A new event, the Green Eyes Festival in Chickamauga, Georgia, premiered in 2024 and was a great success for the small town mostly known for its Civil War battlefield. Old Green Eyes most certainly falls into the category of Pop Cryptid, since it has no significant provenance and is more like a ghost story. The creature’s form varies widely, being a ghost or ghoul prowling the fields of the dead, or can be more like a big cat or hairy monster. The commonality is the glowing green eyes. In a recent interview on the Monster Talk podcast, the founders of the festival revealed that they knew little of “cryptids” beforehand. The two young marketing professionals had heard the spooky stories, of course, but didn’t see it as an opportunity until they visited another well-known festival. As with most modern cryptid town events, inspiration inevitably traces back to the world-renowned Mothman Festival of Point Pleasant, West Virginia. It’s the OG event that launched a hundred imitators (and growing).
Green Eyes has no established canonical legend and, as such, its story evolves as others tell it. While some may argue it’s not a cryptid at all because of the lack of a zoological lens through which to view it, as part of the Pop Cryptid model I argue that any mystery creature that people say may exist (in whatever corporeal or incorporeal form), but can’t be pinned down, falls under the popular idea of a “cryptid” and will be labeled as such.

More: About Cryptid Festivals, and a Parade of Cryptids in Small town USA. Check the list of cryptid festivals in the US and see if one is near you.
Appalachian Folk horror
Sheepsquatch
Possibly more than any other US location, small towns in Appalachia are embracing their local legends and sprucing up the image of their local creature. Appalachian folklore, often exaggerated, is packaged and sold on media platforms. The reasons for this surge in place legends is complex and somewhat disputed – likely in response to populism, a need for enchantment, and a fascination with magic and mystery in your own backyard. Some social commentators (i.e., podcasters and TikTokkers) are suggesting that the Appalachian mountains are so old that ancient eldritch beings still exist here. Ok, then…
It might just be my TikTok feed but cryptid content goes hand in hand with claims of uncanny animals and evil zooform entities that you will encounter if you venture off the trail in the eastern forests. Eh, whatev… People have totally lost touch with nature and, therefore, it’s fairly easy to freak them out. The Appalachians are culturally rich and diverse. Unfortunately, as with indigenous folklore, legends and tales from a previous time and place are being enhanced and monetized for podcasts and videos. You might consider it visual Creepypasta as creators are taking bits from old or new scary stories and manufacturing fakelore.
Cryptid Media
Folk horror resurgence – British Cryptids
It’s not just the Appalachians experiencing rising interest in the past several years with the likes of Mothman, goatman, “not deer“, and areas of high strangeness. The folk horror genre is seeing worldwide popularity. Folk horror focuses on a place, local behaviors, traditions, and history to create a sense of foreboding, particularly to the outsider who comes into the scene unaware. Aspect of folk horror include occult figures like witches, or threats from demons or Satan itself. Monstrous beings also play a big role.
In a blend of folk horror and satire (with the occasionally ancient nude), the YouTube channel British Cryptids manufactured several new cryptids under the guise of lost documentaries from 1974. The series provides a sense of nostalgia as well as unsettling confusion about what’s real and what’s imaginary. Check out their channel where the titles include ‘Yorkshire Yeti’, ‘The Hereford Twiggywitch’, ‘Stag Men’, ’The Souter Sea Wolf’, ‘The Cumbrian Dregpike’ and ‘The Woodwose of Cannock Chase’. It’s like a sophisticated version of Fearsome Creatures made famous as North American lumberjack tales – they sound plausible, if you are out alone in the dark.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m0-lAdhxX7U
Pop Cryptid: Jackalope
A major theme of the Pop Goes the Cryptid model is the never-ending dispute about calling something a “cryptid”. As an example, I’m going to jump right into the deep end and talk about the Jackalope, a creature that is well-associated with “cryptid” online but that almost everyone who knows some history of the topic will say is not a cryptid because it’s a mythical creature, a hoax. Not so fast…
The world was a different place centuries (or even decades) ago. Ideas and language change. If we go by the general cryptid definition of “an animal/entity that is believed to be real but not recognized by zoology” then the Jackalope has a chance to be an official cryptid. There certainly are some people who have seen so many Jackalope depictions, yet do not know their taxidermic history, that they may assume they were a real animal. And, in the early days of natural history, the “horned rabbit” was assumed to be a real, genuine, unique animal because witnesses said so.
My reference is On the Trail of the Jackalope (2022) by Michael Branch, a comprehensive book that mostly treats the creature as a cultural creation but also briefly explores the idea of its cryptidness.
“[T]he horned rabbit is unalloyed Americana—a genuine artifact of this country’s folk culture—the mythical beast has also made its way across the oceans and around the world.”
The true home of the American Jackalope is Douglas, Wyoming where, according to the locals, about half the visitors leave believing the animals are real. Do they believe, or are they just having fun believing? Hard to judge. The same might be said about most cryptids as people like to imagine that tall tales are true because it makes life seem magical. This remains a strong theme in the Jackalope biography.
Jackalope from the video game Red Dead Redemption
One can argue that a “horned rabbit” is a real thing. Cottontail rabbits with horn-like protuberances over various parts of their bodies, particularly their heads, were found to be infected with a type of papillomavirus. There can be little doubt that such stricken rabbits would be viewed as mysterious, then and now. Branch notes that the prevalence of the horned rabbit across cultures suggests that they were at least somewhat based on these natural anomalies. Branch explains that precursors to the American Jackalope are numerous. The specific Jackalope may be a Wyoming invention, but it was not the first depiction of the horned rabbit.

Early naturalists such as Conrad Gessner, Joris Hoefnagel (16th century) and others depicted the horned hare as a real animal. Later, other natural historians weren’t so sure, but this uncertainty about its existence and speculation on the cause of horned hares undoubtedly sounds like the modern idea of a “cryptid”.
But this is the 21st century. We know better now, right?
There is ample evidence to show that most people are entirely ignorant of wildlife in their own backyard, let alone the zoological catalog of known animals. As with everything else in the modern world, we get our information from popular culture, not too much directly from qualified scientific experts. Branch quotes Loren Coleman who runs the International Cryptozoology Museum regarding his inclusion of the Jackalope in the museum: “I would read visitors’ online comments… and they would say things like ‘I didn’t know that the jackalope really existed.’ ” Coleman continues by explaining he reorganized the exhibit to depict the Jackalope along with other hoaxes. To me, there is a lot to unpack in that anecdote. Do we really know which cryptid is a manufactured hoax, which are imaginary creatures that people wish to be real, which are mistaken IDs influenced by lore and campfire tales, and which are real animals? The line is very blurry and all the information is not in. (P-G film, anyone?)
I’ve greatly expanded my idea regarding what a cryptid is in the past few years. I recognize that different people are viewing cryptids through various lenses (zoological, artistic, historical, cultural, etc.) If people wish to believe horned rabbits (jackalopes, wolpertingers, or other variations) are real animals hopping around in an alternative reality, that’s OK by me, as long as they aren’t declaring that in biology class. It’s important to recognize that horned rabbits have a history that can be legitimately viewed with a zoological lens, making them not dissimilar to the history of the “Kraken” that many assume equates to the giant squid (I don’t, but that’s another complicated story), or the merfolk, which are assumed to be misidentified aquatic mammals like dugongs and manatees. The history is muddy and fraught with flips, twists, and turns. The modern “expert cryptozoologist” statements discounting any creatures as “mythological” and not worthy of the label “cryptid” don’t hold much weight. People will believe whatever they want.
There was not a common word for creatures of dubious existence, until “cryptid”. Cryptids as general “mysterious animals” has come into its own as a useful label. We know this because that is how it’s widely employed in popular culture today. It’s your point of view about reality that may vary.

For more, click on Pop goes the Cryptid landing page. While you’re there, make sure you subscribe to all the posts – it’s always free and I don’t send annoying spam.
You can email me with comments, suggestions or questions at Popcryptid(at)proton.me
Pop Cryptid Spectator Pop Cryptid Spectator 15

Pop Cryptid Spectator 15

Pop Cryptid Spectator 14

Pop Cryptid Spectator 14

Pop Cryptid Spectator 13

Pop Cryptid Spectator 13

Pop Cryptid Spectator 12

Pop Cryptid Spectator 12

Pop Cryptid Spectator 11

Pop Cryptid Spectator 11

Pop Cryptid Spectator 10

Pop Cryptid Spectator 10

Pop Cryptid Spectator 9

Pop Cryptid Spectator 9

Pop Cryptid Spectator 8

Pop Cryptid Spectator 8

Pop Cryptid Spectator 7

Pop Cryptid Spectator 7

Pop Cryptid Spectator 6

Pop Cryptid Spectator 6

Pop Cryptid Spectator 5

Pop Cryptid Spectator 5

Pop Cryptid Spectator 4

Pop Cryptid Spectator 4

Pop Cryptid Spectator 2

Pop Cryptid Spectator 2

#1 #2 #AICryptids #Bigfoot #BigfootHuntersDie #cryptid #cryptidFake #cryptidTVShow #giantOwls #GodzillaSighting #GoogleEarth #HoodCryptids #OutThereCrimesOfTheParanormal #popCryptids #scryptids #Skinwalker #TheCryptidFactor #Wendigo
https://sharonahill.com/?p=9171
#appalachia #britishcryptids #cryptid #cryptidfestival #cryptids #folkhorror
Habr @[email protected] · 2026-04-01 · 14:12 UTC

Как продвигать сайт в 2026 году. SEO и GEO
Я запустил сайт. Не шаблон на Tilda, не одностраничник на Notion - полноценный статический сайт на Astro, с блогом, лендингом продукта и двумя языками. И прежде чем написать первую статью в блог, я потратил непропорционально много времени на то, чтобы этот сайт правильно видели поисковики - и, что важнее, языковые модели. Эта статья - о том, что я настраивал, зачем, и почему в 2026 году одного SEO уже недостаточно.
https://habr.com/ru/articles/1016942/
#GEO #Generative_Engine_Optimization #продвижение_сайта #structured_data #hreflang #POSSE #техническое_SEO #оптимизация_для_AI #perplexity #seo

#seo #perplexity #оптимизация_для_ai #техническое_seo #posse #hreflang
Habr @[email protected] · 2026-04-01 · 14:12 UTC

Как продвигать сайт в 2026 году. SEO и GEO
Я запустил сайт. Не шаблон на Tilda, не одностраничник на Notion - полноценный статический сайт на Astro, с блогом, лендингом продукта и двумя языками. И прежде чем написать первую статью в блог, я потратил непропорционально много времени на то, чтобы этот сайт правильно видели поисковики - и, что важнее, языковые модели. Эта статья - о том, что я настраивал, зачем, и почему в 2026 году одного SEO уже недостаточно.
https://habr.com/ru/articles/1016942/
#GEO #Generative_Engine_Optimization #продвижение_сайта #structured_data #hreflang #POSSE #техническое_SEO #оптимизация_для_AI #perplexity #seo

#seo #perplexity #оптимизация_для_ai #техническое_seo #posse #hreflang
Habr @[email protected] · 2026-04-01 · 14:12 UTC

Как продвигать сайт в 2026 году. SEO и GEO
Я запустил сайт. Не шаблон на Tilda, не одностраничник на Notion - полноценный статический сайт на Astro, с блогом, лендингом продукта и двумя языками. И прежде чем написать первую статью в блог, я потратил непропорционально много времени на то, чтобы этот сайт правильно видели поисковики - и, что важнее, языковые модели. Эта статья - о том, что я настраивал, зачем, и почему в 2026 году одного SEO уже недостаточно.
https://habr.com/ru/articles/1016942/
#GEO #Generative_Engine_Optimization #продвижение_сайта #structured_data #hreflang #POSSE #техническое_SEO #оптимизация_для_AI #perplexity #seo

#seo #perplexity #оптимизация_для_ai #техническое_seo #posse #hreflang
Habr @[email protected] · 2026-04-01 · 14:12 UTC

Как продвигать сайт в 2026 году. SEO и GEO
Я запустил сайт. Не шаблон на Tilda, не одностраничник на Notion - полноценный статический сайт на Astro, с блогом, лендингом продукта и двумя языками. И прежде чем написать первую статью в блог, я потратил непропорционально много времени на то, чтобы этот сайт правильно видели поисковики - и, что важнее, языковые модели. Эта статья - о том, что я настраивал, зачем, и почему в 2026 году одного SEO уже недостаточно.
https://habr.com/ru/articles/1016942/
#GEO #Generative_Engine_Optimization #продвижение_сайта #structured_data #hreflang #POSSE #техническое_SEO #оптимизация_для_AI #perplexity #seo

#geo #generative_engine_optimization #продвижение_сайта #structured_data #hreflang #posse