Remember back in the 50s when they'd record like Elvis singing YOU AIN'T NOTHIN BUT A HOUND DOG and then they'd turn the record over and reverse it and it was all NYERP NYERP NYERP NYERP NYERP and people were all like, "That is actually the voice of Satan coming from that song."
Some of the more self-referential seasons of Power Rangers remarked that no sane people would want to live in cities that suffer weekly alien/demon/mutant animal attacks.
It strikes me that the fictional versions of a bunch of real-life cities are places you wouldn't want to live in. The Tokyo of monster movies, for instance.
of course, i meant fictional present day London, not the maze of narrow alleyways riddled with serial killers and smog that's fictional historical London
Particularly the "Golden City" from Ligotti's "I Have A Special Plan For This World". Just... yeah. But that's not saying that anywhere in Ligotti's work is appealing in anything but a very bleak aesthetic sense.
You are the end result of a “would you push the button” prompt where the prompt was “you have unlimited godlike powers but you appear to all and sundry to be an impetuous child” – Zero, 2022
There are seagulls bigger than people and the place has had at least two zombie outbreaks, not to mention the rampant supernatural happenings and the suspicions of a Ktulu-like eldritch abomination living in the Sound.
I'll be damned if it isn't somewhere in heaven though.
If you choose to believe me, good. Now I will tell how Octavia, the spider-web city, is made. There is a precipice between two steep mountains: the city is over the void, bound to the two crests with ropes and chains and catwalks. You walk on the little wooden ties, careful not to set your foot in the open spaces, or you cling to the hempen strands. Below there is nothing for hundreds and hundreds of feet: a few clouds glide past; farther down you can glimpse the chasm's bed.
This is the foundation of the city: a net which serve as passage and as support. All the rest, instead of rising up, is hung below: rope ladders, hammocks, houses made like sacks, clothes hangers, terraces like gondolas, skins of water, gas jets, spits, baskets on strings, dumb-waiters, showers, trapezes and rings for children's games, cable cars, chandeliers, pots with trailing plants.
Suspended over the abyss, the life of Octavia's inhabitants is less uncertain than in other cities. They know the net will last only so long.
If you choose to believe me, good. Now I will tell how Octavia, the spider-web city, is made. There is a precipice between two steep mountains: the city is over the void, bound to the two crests with ropes and chains and catwalks. You walk on the little wooden ties, careful not to set your foot in the open spaces, or you cling to the hempen strands. Below there is nothing for hundreds and hundreds of feet: a few clouds glide past; farther down you can glimpse the chasm's bed.
This is the foundation of the city: a net which serve as passage and as support. All the rest, instead of risingu p, is hung below: rope ladders, hammocks, houses made like sacks, clothes hangers, terraces like gondolas, skins of water, gas jets, spits, baskets on strings, dumb-waiters, showers, trapezes and rings for children's games, cable cars, chandeliers, pots with trailing plants.
Suspended over the abyss, the life of Octavia's inhabitants is less uncertain than in other cities. They know the net will last only so long.
You are the end result of a “would you push the button” prompt where the prompt was “you have unlimited godlike powers but you appear to all and sundry to be an impetuous child” – Zero, 2022
Comments
just go on holiday every Christmas
due to the repeated undermining of law enforcement officials by the reigning monarch
There are seagulls bigger than people and the place has had at least two zombie outbreaks, not to mention the rampant supernatural happenings and the suspicions of a Ktulu-like eldritch abomination living in the Sound.
I'll be damned if it isn't somewhere in heaven though.
This is the foundation of the city: a net which serve as passage and as support. All the rest, instead of rising up, is hung below: rope ladders, hammocks, houses made like sacks, clothes hangers, terraces like gondolas, skins of water, gas jets, spits, baskets on strings, dumb-waiters, showers, trapezes and rings for children's games, cable cars, chandeliers, pots with trailing plants.
Suspended over the abyss, the life of Octavia's inhabitants is less uncertain than in other cities. They know the net will last only so long.
Trantor.
And Paradise City.