11/08/2026
I’ve stared into the abyss, and the abyss has stared back.
Odd as that may sound to anyone who knows anything about the abyss.
But it wasn’t merely the abyss. It may have been an agent of the abyss, lurking somewhere within the abyss I had stared into, that called forth to me in a startling, disembodied voice.
And it hath said:
DO NOT NOT send the Electric Eel newsletter this week, boy.
DO NOT NOT communicate all that is happening during this, the final week the Eel will be open in August, you layabout scoundrel.
DO NOT NOT leave a single i undotted. DO NOT NOT leave a single t uncrossed in this now-famous, mostly weekly missive, for it is of the gravest importance this week of all weeks.
At that moment, a hand reached up from the darkness of the abyss, which honestly made it seem somewhat less abyss-like. Abysses, as we all learned in school, are not supposed to have freakin’ hands wandering around inside them. That obviously discounts the entire concept, if it does not disqualify it completely.
And if that’s the case, what can we even count on anymore?
Sign-up here: https://shorturl.at/laLEQ
