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 No.8659[View All][D]

Post and discuss spooky stuff
If you want to discuss politics go to >>>/pol/
No larping or or shilling your args (i'm looking at you fleshfags)
No debunkers plz

Related threads :

>Paranormal general




>Halloween thread


You rolled the number 439592546 (no dubs or higher)
117 replies (and 16 image replies) omitted. Click here to view.


That's actually a badass costume


File: jack.jpg (182.34 KB, 1800x1080, 5:3, 1632699927779.jpg) [Show in Hex Viewer] [Reverse Image search]

I'm pretty sure it was the inspiration for Jack Skellington lol.


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Clever if true



Another spoopy comic thing, this time it's a fan-film/adaption of the "24 hour diner" chapter of Neil Gaiman's The Sandman
Age restricted tho


30 days of night is a brillant comic book about vampires, and alaska. It also has a good movie adaption.


Remember John Carpenters's "The Thing"?
This is a audio adaption of the original novel by John w. Campbell



Had the pleasure of watching the movie adaption of Ray Bradbury's book, Something Wicked This Way Comes. Kinda sad they didn't air it on T.V during this month, it's a great halloween movie.



Still an internet legend to this day
Some guy compiled all of shayes videos.


Man, I remember Shaye Saint John. I remember finding the website on some list of creepy websites when I was 13 or so. I read the backstory created for Shaye and I wasn't sure if it was real or not lol. It was so fucking weird and spooky.
The guy who created the whole thing eventually drank himself to death. Sad ending to the story.


Youtube also took the original channel down for some reason. I wonder if he'd still be making more episodes if ge didn't drink himself to death?


Charles manson really wasn't a cult leader. By accident, sure. The cult happened because his frens started drifting away so he started bullshidting about a race war and it got worse because some members took some really bad drugs, met bad people and got influenced by other stuff like susan atkins being a satanist. All manson wanted was sex and drugs and live in the desert. It's more of a LARP gone wrong and it always sounds weird when they call him a cultist. He's obviously not innocent, but he had a shid life like getting his music ripped off, his whore mother selling him for drugs and living in prison at a young age, and that probably what drove him to do the things he did. Wonder what would've happen if his music got him famous? Would it have prevented the murders?



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scares the hell out of me


At the mountans of madness Audiodrama by the BBC


What are 22chan's plans for Halloween this year? I realized I have work on Halloween so, I have no plans.


I might be busy this halloween which sucks but i'll try to check in anyway
Dunno, Depends. We can do a big halloween stream but i'm not sure what we'll watch


I will probably watch two new Halloween movies back to back, as I've yet to see them.


I found the 1956 Invasion of the body snatchers online! https://archive.org/details/invasionofthebodysnatchers1956_201911
Also, Here is the original novel by Jack Finney


Thank you for the movie link. It's a cult classic and one of the early science fiction films. I'm looking forward to watching it.


Holy shid. I wonder what was said during that phone call?


>some members took some really bad drugs
It was Manson who gave them drugs, though. They regularly tripped on acid and Manson always gave his followers higher doses than himself.


Yeah, i've been eager to watch it myself.
I don't think he heard actual words, maybe some type of fequency?


Having finished the novel now, I must say the ending was slightly retarded but overall it was a well written, enjoyable book and the depiction of the pod people are bone-chilling.
[spoiler]I say the ending is retarded because the Pods had no way of actually leaving the planet. It was a one way trip down.[/spoiler] [spoiler]I like the pod people in this one, in the 90's movie they screeched when they realised you wherent one of them, Also they where totally emotionless like. In the book, They absorbed all the memories of the person, the thoughts, skin tone, you name it. A perfect match. You wouldn't even spot the diffrences unless you knew that person intimately. If you talked about a personal memory with a family member, some thing funny for instance. they'd smile or chuckle but you would't see that "sparkle" that look in the eyes showing that they rememer the experience. The pod people remember But remembering a memory is diffrence then actually being there to experience it. Even if you didnt notice anything, something in your primative, chimp brain is just ringing the alarm bells of DANGER DANGER DANGER, You know somethings wrong, but you just can't elaborate it. They can feel but not feel if that makes sense.[/spoiler]


There's a horrifying dark horse comic called Aliens: Labyrinth. I've read alien comics before and honestly it's not scary. The first movie if anything is more scary then most alien comics but labyrinth is something else
It's fucked up. [spoiler]At one point, the xenomorphs are infected by some type of disease, They still need food in order to survive so their raising humans like cattle. They force a kid to fuck his bloated, naked mother to try and raise more food, He clearly doesnt want to and because of that they punish him by putting a weakened face hugger on him. Because the face hugger is fucked up, the chestburster is also weak and has trouble getting out so the kids only option is to cut the fu ker out and strangle it to death[/spoiler]



Reposting this from the old halloween bread
Fun stuff and highly underrated. The story does take some plot points from the Philadelphia Experiment conspiracy and for those who are curious, you can easily look it up on wikipedia but if your autistic, Here are two Coast to Coast AM interviews with Al Bielek himself https://youtube.com/watch?v=1vHRY8WrQHM https://youtube.com/watch?v=3cOsykmMEtI


It's an old tradition of mine to listen to The War of The Worlds, By Orson Welles every Halloween https://youtube.com/watch?v=9q7tN7MhQ4I
I had stumbled apon a cassette in a thrift store when i was 13 years old and i guess it "became one of those things" that sticks in your mind like a habit.


Here is the latest a regular pornsite Halloween CSS Theme


I have decided it would be fun for me and possibly others who wish to join in and post christmas spooks to chill the blood if it isn't cold enough for you lads
Either it be folklore or winter/christmas themed creepypastas greentext or the likes it doesnt matter although i'm going to try and repost some folklore stories because its funny. The only issue i am facing is that i want to post the direct source of the actual story instead of a dumb third party re-telling or whatever bullshid and its hard to find the stories or decent translations to re-post. What comes to mind is black peter, the krampus, the yulecat, the yulelads and the darker original history of santaclause. if anyone knows of other spooks feel free to introduce them.


I found an online translations of one of the old yulecat stories, It has gay spacing but its only because it was spaced like that in the storybooks


You all know the Yule Cat
And that Cat was huge indeed.
People didn’t know where he came from
Or where he went.

He opened his glaring eyes wide,
The two of them glowing bright.
It took a really brave man
To look straight into them.

His whiskers, sharp as bristles,
His back arched up high.
And the claws of his hairy paws
Were a terrible sight.

He gave a wave of his strong tail,
He jumped and he clawed and he hissed.
Sometimes up in the valley,
Sometimes down by the shore.

He roamed at large, hungry and evil
In the freezing Yule snow.
In every home
People shuddered at his name.

If one heard a pitiful “meow”
Something evil would happen soon.
Everybody knew he hunted men
But didn’t care for mice.

He picked on the very poor
That no new garments got
For Yule – who toiled
And lived in dire need.

From them he took in one fell swoop
Their whole Yule dinner
Always eating it himself
If he possibly could.

Hence it was that the women
At their spinning wheels sat
Spinning a colorful bread
For a frock or a little sock.

Because you mustn’t let the Cat
Get hold of the little children.
They had to get something new to wear
From the grownups each year.

And when the lights came on, on Yule Eve
And the Cat peered in,
The little children stood rosy and proud
All dressed up in their new clothes.

Some had gotten an apron
And some had gotten shoes
Or something that was needed
– That was all it took.

For all who got something new to wear
Stayed out of that pussy-cat’s grasp
He then gave an awful hiss
But went on his way.

Whether he still exists I do not know.
But his visit would be in vain
If next time everybody
Got something new to wear.

Now you might be thinking of helping
Where help is needed most.
Perhaps you’ll find some children
That have nothing at all.

Perhaps searching for those
That live in a lightless world
Will give you a happy day
And a Merry, Merry Yule.

You rolled the number 717892811 (dubs)


Let me tell the story
of the lads of few charms,
who once upon a time
used to visit our farms.

Thirteen altogether,
these gents in their prime
didn´t want to irk people
all at one time.

They came from the mountains,
as many of you know,
in a long single file
to the farmsteads below.

Creeping up, all stealth,
they unlocked the door.
The kitchen and the pantry
they came looking for.

Grýla was their mother –

she gave them ogre milk –
and the father Leppalúdi;
a loathsome ilk.

They hid where they could, with a cunning look or sneer,
ready with their pranks
when people weren´t near.

They were called the Yuletide lads
– at Yuletide they were due –
and always came one by one,
not ever two by two.

And even when they were seen,
they weren´t loath to roam and play their tricks – disturbing
the peace of the home.

The first of them was Sheep-Cote Clod.

He came stiff as wood,
to pray upon the farmer´s
sheep as far as he could.

He wished to suck the ewes,
but it was no accident
he couldn´t; he had stiff knees –
not to convenient.

The second was Gully Gawk,

gray his head and mien.
He snuck into the cow barn
from his craggy ravine.

Hiding in the stalls,
he would steal the milk,
while the milkmaid gave the cowherd
a meaningful smile.

Stubby was the third called,

a stunted little man,
who watched for every chance
to whisk off a pan.

And scurrying away with it,
he scraped off the bits
that stuck to the bottom
and brims – his favorites.

The fourth was Spoon Licker;

like spindle he was thin.
He felt himself in clover
when the cook wasn´t in.

Then stepping up, he grappled
the stirring spoon with glee,
holding it with both hands
for it was slippery.

Pot Scraper, the fifth one,

was a funny sort of chap.
When kids were given scrapings,
he´d come to the door and tap.

And they would rush to see
if there really was a guest.
Then he hurried to the pot
and had a scrapingfest.

Bowl Licker, the sixth one,

was shockingly ill bred.
From underneath the bedsteads
he stuck his ugly head.

And when the bowls were left
to be licked by dog or cat,
he snatched them for himself –
he was sure good at that!

The seventh was Door Slammer,

a sorry, vulgar chap:
When people in the twilight
would take a little nap,

he was happy as a lark
with the havoc he could wreak,
slamming doors and hearing
the hinges on them sqeak

Skyr Gobbler, the eighth,

was an awful stupid bloke.
He lambasted the skyr tub
till the lid on it broke.

Then he stood there gobbling
– his greed was well known –
until, about to burst,
he would bleat, howl and groan.

The ninth was Sausage Swiper, a shifty pilferer.

He climbed up to the rafters
and raided food from there.

Sitting on a crossbeam
in soot and in smoke,
he fed himself
on sausage fit for gentlefolk.

The tenth was Window Peeper,

a weird little twit,
who stepped up to the window
and stole a peek through it.

And whatever was inside
to which his eye was drawn,
he most likely attempted
to take later on.

Eleventh was Door Sniffer,

a doltish lad and gross.
He never got a cold,
yet had a huge, sensitive nose.

He caught the scent of lace
bread while leagues away still
and ran toward it weightless
as wind over dale and hill

Meat Hook, the twelfth one,

his talent would display
as soon as he arrived
on Saint Thorlak´s Day.

He snagged himself a morsel
of meet of any sort,
although his hook at times
was a tiny bit short.

The thirteenth was Candle Beggar –

´twas cold, I believe,
if he was not the last
of the lot on Christmas Eve.

He trailed after the little ones
who, like happy sprites,
ran about the farm with
their fine tallow lights.

On Christmas night itself
– so a wise man writes –
the lads were all restraint
and just stared at the lights.

Then one by one they trotted off
into the frost and snow.
On Twelfth Night the last
of the lads used to go.

Their footprints in the highlands
are effaced now for long,
the memories have all turned
to image and song

You rolled the number 301774620 (no dubs or higher)



Three little children sought the plain
Gleaners of the golden grain.
They lingered past the angel-song,
And dewy shadows swept along.

'Mid the silence of the wood
The butcher's lonely cottage stood,
"Butcher! lodge us for the night,
Lodge us till the morning light."
"Enter in, ye children small,
I can find a place for all."

The butcher seized a knife straitway,
And did the little creatures slay.
He put them in a tub of brine,
In pieces small as they were swine.

St. Nicholas, at seven years end,
His way did to the forest wend.
He sought the butcher's cottage drear:
"Butcher! I would rest me here!"

"Enter! enter, St. Nicholas!
You are welcome, St. Nicholas!
Enter! enter, St. Nicholas!
There's place for you the night to pass."
Scarce had the Saint his entrance made,
He would the supper board was laid.

"Will you have of ham a slice?"
"I will not, for it is not nice!"
"Of this veal you'll take a bit?"
"No! I do not relish it."

"Give me of the little swine,
For seven long years have laid in brine!"
The butcher caught the words he said,
And forthwith from the portal fled.

"Butcher! butcher! do not flee,
Repent and God will pardon thee!"

St. Nicholas the tub drew near,
And lo! he placed three fingers there.
The first one said, "I sweetly rest!"
The second said, "I too am blest!"
The third replied, "Tis well with me,
In Paradise I seem to be!"



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You rolled the number 200971598 (no dubs or higher)


Although not christmas or winter themed, here is a LONG russian /x/ bread

You rolled the number 300112299 (dubs)


They also used to post on futaba channel (2chan)


this feels like a copypasta


the story my mother told me might ha e been some twisted copypasta but the story isn't

You rolled the number 220150446 (no dubs or higher)


I think the dead internet theory is becoming effectively true in google results
I find myself googling stuff every now and then. For example, today I was curious to find out about whether krita was a comparably good drawing program to photoshop or corel painter
Searching online made me stumble into articles like this:
While the information contained seems to be on point, it somewhat feels very... inhuman. I mean, it starts like this:
>The main reason for comparing Krita vs Corel Painter is to identify which one helps the user more. Krita is a design and digital drawing tool with some impressive features. On the other hand, Corel Painter is well-known in the world of digital drawing, painting, illustration, and artwork. So both of these tools are helpful at some point.
>We need to find which one is more helpful for the users. So here is a comparison of these two software considering the most important points is as follows.
It is the wording, as well as the rigid paragraph structure and pointless sentences that give it all an eerie, AI-generated feel.
Now, this was probably written by a human. However, I don't think it would be unfeasible to combine an AI researching the internet with appropriate article templates to generate almost indistinguishable results. So, even if it is not generated by AI, it might as well be
I also think google is having a big influence here, as I've noticed lots of sites making weird formatting choices that I can't elaborate if not as pandering to the ranking algorithm.
So I do think that more and more of the smaller websites today are getting botted now


Makes me think about Turing's imitation game. In short, the idea is that if an artificial intelligence can fool a human into thinking it's a human as well then it can be considered intelligent or even human, depending on your position. So what happens when the reverse occurs? Should a human who is incapable of communication be considered intellectually inert? Is there a distinction between them?
A common critique of the imitation game is called the Chinese room experiment. You can google it, but it basically says that even an intelligent machine would merely be pumping through some kind of syntactic rulebook, as opposed to humans with their semantic minds. So, if a human stops writing in a natural, semantic way and chases the algorithm through a forced and syntactic manner, are they behaving as humans? I would say, no. They are allowing themselves to be possessed by an organic artificial intelligence (the oxymoron is not lost on me) that we unintentionally created and have not yet created materially.
>tl;dr my belief is that the dead internet theory is correct: even if "dead" articles are penned by humans they are still governed by an uncomprehending intelligence.


I think the turing experiment in reverse should be different, because in general an intelligent person can act foolishly, while a stupid person cannot act intelligently (not entirely true, but makes sense in the context of the experiment: a spanish speaker might fail to speak english, however a rock will never be able to speak any language. So a test where somebody is able to speak english proves intelligence, but not being able to speak english does not prove stupidity)
As for the chinese room experiment, I consider its use as proof that machines can't be intelligent wrong; in my opinion it is based on a false analogy. However the way you refer to it makes sense: if a person only follows exact instructions, the result of the process is not really fruit of human intelligence
>organic artificial intelligence
I like this expression! Finally we have an appropriate way to refer to bureaucracy


About to break my own rule lol simce this is slightly political, but here is "behold a pale horse" by william cooper. A classic conspiracy book and to make matters more interesting, its the "unedited" version.
Also, here is something that the conspiracy circles are chattering abput recently https://invidious.kavin.rocks/watch?v=_LjFzjK8H9U
Apparantly it has something to do with the central banks and i have yet to listen to it due to the audiobook being like 10 fucking hours.


What's the above link? The diary of Patrick Breen of the donnor party.
spoopy /sewers/ teir halloween theme.
the full original argument.

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