This True News Story missed the most important detail.
After long eras of systemic racial discrimination by humanity, God has clarified he will keep inventing new, terrible kinds of spider until we stop.
“Okay guys,” said God after Donald Trump’s second attempt at a travel ban, while screwing giant mandibles onto the front of a new tarantula model. “You brought this one on yourselves, though.”
If they’d thought to look closely at the god doing the speaking, they might have noticed that he looks like this:
Or this:
Everyone knows the True Name of God is Iktomi, or Anansi. He’s creating new spiders to build webs in our bones if we don’t stop. He’s not trying to get you to stop, though, he’s just anticipating that your eye sockets and rib cages will provide plenty of homes for his children.
in so far that gods have a gender I would have thought it would be more proper to refer to god as female especially if the “form” would be a spider
“she’s just anticipating that your eye sockets and rib cages will provide plenty of homes for her children.”
who else could weave such a world as this one?
uncle frogy
Do the elder ones like be referred to as spiders?
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A really groovy spidergod might be La Princesse, “a 15-metre (50-foot) mechanical spider designed and operated by French performance art company La Machine. […] Arts reviewer Lyn Gardner wrote in The Guardian ‘There were times when it seemed to be leading the entire population of the city on a merry dance, like some kind of arachnid pied piper’ [in Liverpool, England].”
I may not like spiders, but I do like this song, which seems appropriate to share here:
Spiders Bride by The Machine in the Garden
We are watching while sleep
We are the nightmares in your dreams
We are everywhere (everywhere) we are everywhere
We are the ones snatching souls
We are the ones in control
We are everywhere (everywhere) we are everywhere
Come, let pull my arms around you
Come, let me pray beside you
Come let me show you a true god
Come, let throw my arms around you
Come, let me pray beside you
Come let me show you a true god
Eight-legged angels spin by night
Catching all misguided flying by
A living god who waits patiently- without a twitch
Body-snatching technique
Very quick
Come, let pull my arms around you
Come, let me pray beside you
Come let me show you a true god
Come, let throw my arms around you
Come you let me prey beside you
Come let me show you a true god
Don’t lie
Why do you lie?
Don’t deny it to yourself this time
Apologies for any errors in transcription. Also for leaving out the background lyrics, which I can’t make out well enough to attempt to transcribe.
Incidentally, PZ (I’m going to assume you got that from Neil Gaiman), I had a girlfriend who managed a bookstore. One of the less desirable jobs was being the person who had to spend their entire day schlepping around whatever author was in town for a book signing. Except when it was Gaiman; then there were practically fist fights over who got the privilege. Apparently he’s the nicest bloke in the world.
— cary
Don’t think dude-gendered arachnids give much thought to their progeny… just want to get that spermatophore in the right place before they croak. It’s the dudette spidee types that might be giving more thought to the spiderlings. Good to remember that the dudes only do “it” once. The dudettes may go through the process more than a score of times, depending on the particular species.
[mountainbob, I’m not much on semiotics of language, but surely employing a feminised form of the masculine is not that transgressive.
(In the more Anglic sphere, that would have been ‘laddetes’)]