It seems you’ve caught us at a bit of a disadvantage – and though this is entirely your fault, I feel I should probably explain what is happening here: Earlier this week, some indescribable thing from beyond replaced our fonts with gibbering troglomites, and then proceded to eat our stylesheet. As a result of this, I had to scribble out a quick replacement, which unfortunately was written in the only thing I had available at the time – a type of invisible ink which can only be read whilst standing atop basalt monoliths of in a chicken suit, and only once every aeon. To compound problems, most of our archivists are also currently somewhat eaten, by no fault of mine, and I will likely need to find suitable replacements while I struggle to get this journal together, before it is too late. There are new openings every day, unpaid of course, and requiring some waivers signed and blood oaths taken. Interns must be able write fairly-decent English, and must also be willing to wear red. You might notice some […]