There are numerous gods of lost artifacts, many having evolved from older gods of long ago times that have modernized the objects they stand for (e.g. “Where did I tie up my horse?” to “Where did I park?”). Others have not needed to update or change much as their embodied objects have more or less stayed the same over the centuries. Some, however, have only relatively appeared and are often overlooked by even the newest gods.
Of the lost artifact gods (or “Losties” as they like to call themselves) the most prevalent are, of course, the Lord of Lost Keys, KeyKlar, and the great sock stealer Lintam, who reign over all the losties as they are some of the oldest. But of the modern losties, there is one of the gods that is rarely paid notice to and yet he has touched many lives across the globe. He is Chapeater, the God of Lost Chapstick.
Chapeater, or Wax Lippy Lips as he is known among the godsect, presides over all of the chapstick in the world. Barely over 100 years old, Chapeater has never been a prevalent lord despite having impacted almost every modern life in first world countries. Unlike KeyKlar, who fashions extravagant armor out of his boons, or Lintam who simply throws all of his boons into a large, mountainous pile, Chapeater has built himself a small cabin out of lost tubes of chapstick. Located in the forests of Canada, Chapeater’s abode is small, uniform and symmetrical, no more than a large plastic box hidden in some trees. “The cold climate is good for the chapstick,” Chapeater says, “because a lot of heat melts the balm. It’s horrible when you wake up and you’re covered in slime. I’d smell like a holistic medicine beach bum for weeks on end.”
Chapeater also remarked that his cabin is comprised entirely of old chapstick tubes with some of them dating back at least sixty years or so. When I inquired as to why he doesn’t replace the tubes, or expand his cabin into a larger house, Chapeater says, “I’m a simple lostie. I don’t need to have large piles of things or lavish costumes. The size of this place gives me all the room I need. A place to sleep, eat and work; anything else is extravagance.”
As to where all the chapstick that he has collected since finishing his cabin has gone, his name is all the explanation one needs. “I eat them. Turn the tube so the rest of the stick shows and then gobble gobble. And now that chapstick is coming with all sorts of vitamins to help the skin and such, I have a much healthier diet.”
Despite being an ignored god, controversy has surrounded Chapeater since the 1980’s, when the God of Lost Pets proclaimed at the annual Lostie Convention that, “Chapeater’s inclusion into the Lostie sect is outrageous. Humans don’t lose chapstick, they merely forget about it and then throw them away when they do find them. He is a trash-digger, not a god.”
“I can understand the argument,” Chapeater tells us, “but the fact remains that this station still exists and that I hold the title. How humans treat these artifacts is of little consequence in the end, for even if they throw them away they will always require more. Then they will think, ‘Where did I put that last tube of chapstick?’, and then their discarded sticks become my boon.”
When asked whether he is worried that his station might one day become obsolete, Chapeater said, “No, I’m not worried in the slightest. I mean, think about: Have you ever finished an entire tube of chapstick?”
Sundays are usually my story/article days, but the two things I have been writing are taking me a lot more time than I originally anticipated. One, which is an essay concerning Hollywood, started off as a comedic splutter of anger and witty remarks (e.g. Profanity) but quickly evolved into a examination of the entertainment industry, almost to the point where I’m having to research so I’m not “bs”ing you all more than usual. Needless to say, since I actually have a point with that article I have to actually try and that takes time. The other one is a story based on a dream I had. That one isn’t hard, I’m just lazy, which I believe I have mentioned before.
But since I’m trying to post every single day, which is something I’d like to keep up for as long as I can, I’ve decided to share some pictures. My senior year in college I happened upon a South Park Avatar Creator online, and it took over my life for a time. I made South Park versions of most of my friends, coworkers and roommates.
But after you have done all of your friends and it’s 3am and the thoughts of what life is going to be like after graduation (I imagined it as a big, gaping black hole that sucks your soul out through your butt, so I was pretty close), you’ll do anything to help pass the time before you pass out from exhaustion go by faster. I had also become very adept at capturing a person’s essence via South Park and I wanted to see what else I could come up with. So I started to make South Park versions of some of my favorite television shows at the time.
I’m happy to say I introduced this show into my circle of friends. Most of them started off keeping it at an arm’s distance, associating it with Star Trek/Star Wars fan rejects, but after watching the mini-series that kicked off the show they were hooked. Any show where the robots, spaceships and sexy women aren’t nearly as captivating as the characters and their turmoil is tops in my book. My favorite episode was “Exodus”, an hour of television that did space battles than any feature film I have ever seen, before or since.
After a lot of hem and hawing from a friend about it, I sat down and watched the first episode of Lost. After the episode was finished I went to Amazon and bought the first two seasons on DVD. And because I’m impatient I spent more money so it would get to me faster. Not fast enough however, as I had watched both of those seasons online before the dvds arrived. The show faltered big time for a couple of seasons before it got back on track for its last two. But by opting for sentimentality instead of making any kind of fucking sense, the show never reclaimed its original glory. The first two seasons still kick ass though.
Look, what can I say? I’m a fucking nerd. Stargate SG-1 has been a secret indulgence for a long time. I have watched the series, the entire series, multiple times, and it still makes me laugh and, yes god dammit, cry sometimes. What I liked most about it was the mythology and history that was created for the show, how it created a large grey area between the protagonists and antagonists, and their respectful and humanizing view of the military. Indeed. (I really am a nerd.)
They were really good books. They were really fun movies. The audio books are perfect. It has been an active part of my imagination for twelve years. It was incredible fun, and I can’t wait to revisit it at some point down the road.
This is somewhat appropriate since it was just released on blu-ray.
The next two I made not because I liked either the show or the movie, but I really like a girl who really liked the show and the movie. Nothing came of it since she turned me down, so all the time I spent keeping up with the show was for naught, although I was happy as punch to stop watching it because I hated it so. As far as Pirates is concerned, I enjoyed the hell out of the first one. The rest planted the seeds that would grow into a deep hatred for almost all sequels.
Well that’s all I got. Sorry about the odd post, but things will be back to normal next week. If you want me to make a South Park version of you, just reply to this. Or try your own hand at South Park-ifying at SP-Studio.
I was competing in this water-ski race/obstacle course with an old co-worker, and the finish line was the Man in Black cave from Lost.
Suddenly, I was Jack and all the characters were there. Then TMiB came out and everybody else disappeared. TMiB and I talked, and then he lifted his hands and made the rocks on the ground float and then turn to dust. Then I made a volcano rise up from the ground with my hands and then disappear.
Then I’m myself again. Hurly shows up. We find an injured bird in the jungle, then TMiB tries to kill us with a wheat-thrasher. The cave starts to turn into a kitchen. I jump on top of the dishwasher, grab a knife, swing around and stab TMiB in the chest. The thrasher goes outta the kitchen, out of the cave, and explodes where the volcano had been. Fire trucks come and take us home.
I’m suddenly a five year old Italian boy from the burbs, and my parents have been missing me. They welcome me with open arms and try to feed me because they say I am too skinny.
Then it turns out the whole thing was a film. The movie that I am watching ends, someone asks if all of the old movies are digitally projected, and I decide I am going to go to Amoeba Records to buy some vinyl.
Then I wake up.