Anthony Baxter

The Greenland Shark grows so slowly that they don’t become sexually active until they’re over 100 years old.

Which I think gives us all a bit of hope doesn’t it.

A tree whose bark spills open, a cavity in its flesh filled with black fungus.

A good tree here looking both very much alive and very much dead.

I had two signs from the great beyond today that point me in the direction of writing a pilot for TV.

Etymology of the day: ‘book’ comes from an ancient root shared by ‘beech’, a wood that people used for engraving inscriptions. ‘Paper’ comes from ‘papyrus’, and ‘volume’ is from the Latin for a ‘roll’ of parchment.

Happy World Book Day.

Jesus this year has been a thing already.

A picture of a country path, trees either side, Everything is thick with snow.

I am now a bit bored of all the ice

The snow covered bank leading up to the edge of a farmers field. A ramshackle fence sits against a white sky filled with snow. The branches of a tree reach out across the top of the frame.

It’s one of those days where the roads are suicide, so I went for a walk in the cold.

A wonderful thing to do when there’s a fire to come back to

As the holiday period comes to an end, we lament not being able to enjoy any more strange Victorian Christmas cards.

Fortunately, there is always New Year.

Hopes for a happy and prosperous 2025 from The Folklore Podcast and this mutated potato. Do share the joy on.

A photograph of the British countryside headed in the direction of the Lake District. Short mountains rise up on the horizon, the sky is slowly filling with cloud.

Where is that storm coming?

Joyce always looks like a renegade submariner who has named his craft after his murdered wife.

A rusted tank sat in and amongst the long grass, the slopes of High Cup Nick behind it against a grey sky.

Living next to an MOD firing range means that I find it extremely normal that to drive to my neighbour leads me past a rusted out tank.

I’ve accidentally written two ghost stories today.

I took several photos in my sleep last night of something out of my window.

It’s that post-Christmas creep.

Spent a lot of time wonder what a Bugler was on today’s connections as I was reading it as BUG-ler, as in some kind of insect Butler.

As a young kid, my sister got a doll she wanted for Christmas.

It was some three foot talking best friend doll.

She had it on for twenty minutes and then spent the rest of its life silent and usually facing a wall.

Kids don’t want to talk to creepy voiced stuff.

Remaking the emperors new clothes in 2024 got a little on the nose.

My friend got me a Lego Vespa for Christmas. I am left wondering what this tells me about me.

Everybody has to self-promote now. Nobody wants to. So you want to be an artist. Do you have to start a TikTok?

One thing that is true for me is that I've always been an attention hog, so social media in its various formats has rarely been a burden to me; I think it's fun, and the "building the brand" part comes as a side benefit. This is, however, not the same for everyone.

www.vox.com/culture/2024...

“Haha can you believe McDonalds is doing a Squid Game promo” easily yes because capital subsumes all critiques of itself and no popular TV show or piece of art will ever threaten or unsettle it

don't talk to me until I've gyred and gimbled in the wabe

I just spent too long on the toilet setting up my first social media page since MySpace that my legs went to sleep.

@greigarjohnson.bsky.social I am happy that my first non-bot follower is Webb Brauser.

Excellent. Saves having to pay the council to collect it 👍

When you set up an account and Discover tells you it knows what you like, it’s unsettling.

Friend, I don’t know what I like, please explain it to me.