I won’t name names, however, I suspect the certain someone who ate all of the good linen napkins and tried to cover his tracks by setting the table with recycled “goods” from the restroom wastebasket. On that note, sanitary napkins are only sanitary once, and have no place on the dining table, or anyplace in this establishment for that matter save for the women’s room bin.

Needless to say, I feel a major rite of banishing coming on again, and will not be held accountable for anything happens to any archive pets with names that end in “Horror”.

As for other things that need your immediate attention, I feel that we are in need of a handful more relics for the archive, for purely scientific purposes mind you – things which I recently learned of through some sort of magical hole in my newspaper, a hole about the size and shape of a crossword puzzle.

When I happened upon the SteamTeam section, I just knew that these objects were far too important to fall into nefarious hands other than those of the archive staff; I have collected a list of them, and their makers. Please secure these items immediately.

Dangerously Underpriced:

Steampunk amp by Steampunk 22

There is something incredibly wrong when something with this level of craftsmanship and beauty sells for such a low price. I suspect it must be cursed. Aquire immediately. http://www.etsy.com/listing/48618588/steampunk-amplifier-advanced-resonant

Reef Builder by Corina St Martin

Earth Fire Studios has in incredible amount of interesting wearable artifacts, rings, cuff links, and the like- but what really grabbed my attention is this brilliant and colorful painting, which at $1,000 for this level of work, leads me to suspect dark magick in the works. My office wall, of course, would be the best place for regular monitoring of this artifact. http://www.etsy.com/listing/38655519/original-mermaid-painting-the

Supernatural Craftsmanship

NewIndustries Light Passenger SteamPunk Airship brooch pin

NewIndustries Light Passenger SteamPunk Airship brooch pin: We must have this. Natural hands do not sculpt metal with such steady hand and attention to detail; Procure it – preferably before this Saturday night’s Advanced Metaphysics Gala. http://www.etsy.com/listing/38329795/newindustries-light-passenger-steampunk

Jolly Roger Skirtlifters by BoilerGoth

I don’t know if these really do what the name implies, but if they have any such magical ability it would be best if I had them in my posession, to protect the honor of the fairer sex. Apparently they come in sets of *two*. I shudder to imagine the sort of perversion that would would need to use this magic on two targets at a time. I must have them, preferably before this Saturday night’s Advanced Metaphysics Gala. http://www.etsy.com/listing/52926145/jolly-roger-skirtlifters

Azathoth Messenger Bag

A long time ago, Azathoth was like “Hey everybody! Sign in blood the Yearbook of Azathoth! I want something to remember you by!”, but when I went to sign his stupid book he said “No, sorry, there is no more room”. I *know* Keziah wrote something about me in there, I just have no idea what. Fetch me this splendid messenger bag, just make sure the yearbook is still in there. http://www.etsy.com/listing/48731287/azathoth-messenger-bag, or (her off-Etsy site) http://store.raygunrobyn.com/

GOLD BEETLE MECHANIQUE Steampunk Ring - Vintage Gold Watch Clockwork Scarab - Original Steampunk Jewelry by 19 Moons

I believe I saw this item in one of those moving pictures shown at the Purely Scientific Expo of Arcane and Dangerous Things several years back,  I believe its sting might gift a person with the ability to self-reanimate. If this is the case, well, I’m the only one of who has not yet achieved some form of augmented longevity, and I think it is only fair that I get *my* turn at not dying. http://www.etsy.com/listing/53280084/gold-beetle-mechanique-steampunk-ring.

Eerily Beautiful and Haunting

Adornments for Tarts has in their possession a number of quality and well-fashioned items for men, in addition to all of these wonderfully made women’s items, but take a close look at the photographs in particular… they are not only perfect, but something somehow beyond only “perfect”. I am left not only to wonder at the incredible and unnatural photographic skills of the photographers, but the degree of supernatural influence this Choklit character must wield to get not just the best photographers available, but several of the very best photographers available.

…Oh, and grab me a catalogue; This beautiful collection of images is in need of closer inspection.

Sirene Cuffs (Pair) by Adornments for Tarts - Photo by Lex Machina

http://www.etsy.com/listing/42698364/sirene-cuffs-pair

Absinthe Collar by Adornments for Tarts, photo by Aesthetic Alchemy

http://www.etsy.com/listing/19917298/absinthe-collar

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She begins in two dimensions with drawings, and uses wood, wax and metals to carve and turn these objects of her mind-musings into the 3rd dimension, and perhaps a little more…

“Jewels” Vine is a skilled artificer working on a miniature scale, working mostly in Silver, bronze and gold with a mix of glass, ebony, titanium and stainless steel and sundry exotic accents; She has over three decades of experience in crafting these charm-sized talismans, many of which with moving parts and amazing detail.

Amphora Drop

ThingBot in Bronze

BABY TADFISH sterling silver on 60cm silver vermeil chain

Steely Eyed Silver Owl

Sterling Silver RoboKiwi

Baby Robokitty in Bronze

Bronze Micro Rocket Locket

Cyclops MegaBot in Bronze and glass

Bronze Skeleton keys

Baby Fish with Micro Keys

Jewels’ Etsy Shop can be found here: http://www.etsy.com/shop/jewelsvine

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Dunwich, for the records, did also not eet the website – instead there was errors at the webhost which resulted in losing of a year worth of entrees even though professor pokes Dunwich with stick and threatens Dunwich with mustard to apologize for eet yucky web site, which Dunwich did not eet because it tasted bad.. not like chickins.

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L’Oracle du Mort: One of many amazing clockwork pieces by Thomas Kuntz to be featured here in the Archive.

Thomas Kuntz, a professional artist for over 20 years, began as a sculptor of Commercial Toys, but later gained notoriety circa ’89-98 as a pioneer in the making of model kits based on old silent films like Nosferatu, The Man Who Laughs, Vampira, and others.

After a period of time Kuntz found that merely sculpting his dark creations was not nearly enough for him, and that he wanted to give life to his creations through mechanical, perhaps supernatural means… This change in method resulted in some of the darkest and most interesting automations known to man, and not nearly as many fatalities and disappearances as may be rumored.

You may have seen Thomas’ twisted creations in many places, though you may not have been aware of the crafter behind them, or the astounding degrees of meticulous craftsmanship responsible for their being. Mr. Kuntz’ creations have served in the armies and arsenals of many noteworthy people, interesting types such as Kevin Ogilvie, a.k.a. Nivek Ogre, frontman of theatrical post-punk industrial band “Skinny Puppy”. Thomas has made mechanical props for the band, and for Nivek alone, with pieces for use on stage, and for use in video.

In his workshop, Thomas Kuntz controls an army of clockmaking lathes from 1880-present, and each piece he creates is more said to be more exquisite than the last. There are only a handful of builders in the world who make automata, and no one does it like Mr. Kuntz.

“Death and Resurrection” (shown in the video below) is a self-portrait piece; One was sold, below are images of the artist’s copy.

The Alchemyst is a small but incredibly complex automaton who lives in a 9ft clock tower (pictures and video below). It is impossible to capture the whole moving tower inside the shop. There are many automatons living on and within this peice; on the top lives a procession of alchemists, a skeletal Templar knight rings a bell, libuse is a beautiful creepy princess who turns her head. The celestial clockwork and moon phases add even more life and motion to this large and complicated work of art. (continued below the following video)

This piece is the largest Thomas has ever done, and is one of several controlled not just by cams and levers, but an animation control system. All the movements are meticulously programmed in, and then put on to a “brain” computer that controls the servos, air, fire, and water effects.

Video of the Alchemist only

Video of the clock tower in action. The alchemist (clothed in this video) tells a story about a clockmaker.

“Fusion” (images below), another automation, controlled by clockwork, powered by hand cranking is a rather interesting piece in which two fused bodies dance around in dark and disturbing fashion (no video available yet).

The “Imp” is a stop motion character from a music video called Majik by Ogre. There are many more characters involved, but the Imp is the central piece. The entire video (below) was made by Thomas and director William Morrison.

The “Plague Hymn” is another beautifully creepy piece. Judging from the photos, it seems it would be an incredible piece to see in action. Hopefully there will be videos soon.

The “Levitating Head” Is said to be one of the freakier and creepier pieces to see in person. Thomas had a magician friend from London in the shop last week; For a few moments, he was astounded, and had a bit of pleasant difficulty figuring the illusion out.

Kundalini is another levitation piece, and was recently purchased by none other than Guillermo Del Toro, along with a new peice, “L’Oracle du Mort” of which there are videos of both (please see Thomas’ Vimeo page for video of “L’Oracle du Mort”, the link is listed at the end of this article).

Kundalini Video

Thomas Kuntz sells some of his smaller sculpted works on Etsy at anomalymachine.etsy.com, and you can visit his site (currently being renovated) at Artomic.com. He also has a video channel on Vimeo (including some Non-Work Safe automata videos censored on Youtube) as well as one on YouTube. Those are at (respectively) vimeo.com/user1180445/videos and youtube.com/haxanthrobo.

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Please enjoy the videos below, and if you would like to see more of Keith’s wondrous works, visit him at his aetherweb home Keith Newstead Automata – and be sure to check this space again next week, we have more amazing things to show!

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In response to the discovery of lost Metropolis footage, issue #7 is dedicated to this 1927 classic of silent film and the metropolis in general.

Of course there is a review of the original Metropolis, by Mr Marcius Rauchfuß, as well as an article about the 2001 anime of the same name, by Mr Sigurjón Njálsson. For the latest about what is going on in that other fine city, the Old Smoke called Londontown, we introduce Brigadier Sir Arthur Weirdy-Beardy of The Steampunk Club, while Mr David Townsend is off to farther realms once again, traveling by the Indian Pacific from Perth to Sydney, Australia.

We are also extremely glad to present an exclusive preview of Mr Toby Frost’s upcoming Space Captain Smith novel, Wrath of the Lemming Men!

And it almost goes without saying that this issue features all the columns and features that you might have come to expect from us: Ms Hilde Heyvaert writes her “Steampunk Wardrobe” about ethnic steampunk; Mr Craig B. Daniel dedicates his “Liquor Cabinet” to a story about beer, and Mr Guy Dampier is back with a Quatermass review. More reviews come from Hilde (Unhallowed Necropolis), Mr Trubetskoy (The Court of the Air and Outcry) and Toby Frost (Gormenghast).

To read more about this issue, or to download this issue for free, visit the Gatehouse at ottens.uk

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There are many, many new items here now, some even that he had forgotten to put in his regular store, some new exclusives to us.

There will also be many additions in the coming days by Bethalynne Bajema

Myke will also be putting up many many more originals here in the Archive over the next day or two as well, for those who like to collect original pieces – aside from what is already here, there will be a number of additional engravings of all sizes and themes, as well as some small scuptures and perhaps even some wood and brass works.

So, please do take a look, everything is one sale right now. I don’t think there is a thing in the store that has not been at least somewhat reduced. This week will be the very best time to acquire some original art, and a very good time to purchase prints and other merchandise as well.

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Morgan Booth looked up at a stretch of wide blue sky and waited for the miracle to happen. With the winds kicking up, little dust devils tumbled across the plains and scoured the land. Standing on the edge of town, Booth found himself surrounded by a sizable crowd of townsfolk. Their mood struck him as electric, like the static carried on dry winds that sometimes threw blue sparks off wire fences at night. That’s how it was with the people. They had an excited air about them. He could see a few had even gone so far as to throw coarse blankets down on the bare ground. Families tucked into their picnic dinners and children played in what used to be fertile soil now gone to lifeless powder.

This town was just the latest in a string of used up little communities he’d wandered into and out of again over the past few months. The past few summers had seen withered crops and wasted stock across much of the rolling countryside out west of the Big Muddy. In his gut Booth knew a lot of places wouldn’t make it past another winter. Even at the tender age of nineteen those towns tended to rattle him. They were too full of empty houses and empty fields that had dried up. Wheat, corn, cattle, and sometimes even the people went to dust and blew away. The town, he decided, felt like death and he avoided them whenever he could.

Today though, Booth saw the crowd of townsfolk out milling around and it raised his curiosity. Arriving on the coach an hour earlier, he’d made a point of finding what few stores lined the main street. There wasn’t much to see, and his hopes of finding work weren’t great. He walked from one end of the street to the other in the space of five minutes and that’s when he saw all the people. Ambling over, he quickly learned the reason for all the fuss. It was a man standing atop a wagon the likes of which Booth had never quite seen before.

The handbill pasted across the wagon’s side proclaimed the man to be a rain-maker. The crazy looking collection of kettles, copper drums, and India-rubber tubes in his wagon was apparently a ‘patented gas generator’. Dressed as he was in dusty spats, a powder white frock coat, and matching white top hat of the old John Bull variety, he looked to be an eastern dandy, a snake oil man, or both.

Still, as ridiculous as he appeared, Booth did find the man’s machinery to be rather fascinating. The contraption mounted on the back of the old casket wagon hissed and rumbled as though it contained some sort of mythical beast. At intervals, little release valves sprung open and green vapor shot out. By the way they oohed and ahhed, the children seemed to think it was a regular Fourth-of-July.

Calling the crowd to attention, the rain-maker clapped his hands together. Then speaking in a clear, high voice, he said, “May I have your attention please? Attention please? I want to thank you good folk for coming out here on as God-awful a day as any I’ve seen. It warms my heart to know that so many of you have seen fit to place your faith in the science of man whereas too many have seen fit to throw their lot in with devilish powers or to give up entirely.”

Gesturing at the equipment in his wagon, he continued, “This lovely device, my friends, is the cornerstone of the artificial production of rain in our time! With it, I can create an exotic mixture of rare gases, leiden-jars, and wet batteries, all of which are neatly packed into the bodies of my patented paper-rockets. That’s right – paper-rockets. Why paper? Because it is light! Don’t you fret though, once the tubes have been stiffened by successive coats of varnish and paraffin, I can assure you that they are as tough and durable as an elephant’s knees.”

Turning, Booth saw the rockets staked out in a line just a little ways from the wagon. Each one stood about as tall as a man and all were attached to long wooden rods. The rain-maker paused for a moment and then spoke again. “These explosive devices, first pioneered by inscrutable Chinese artisans in the Far East, will be used to establish an electrical communion with the clouds above. The volatile gases contained within each of my rockets are charged with voltaic energy and, when properly exploded, will chill the very atmosphere resulting in condensation – rain, my friends! Rain! My miraculous generator here is large enough to produce some two hundred gallons of rain-making gas per hour, or the rough equivalent of twenty rockets.”

Booth shook his head in wonder. It was all a bit beyond him, but he had to admit that the fast talking rain-maker certainly had his patter down. From the looks of the people around him, the townsfolk were more than ready to buy his bill of goods.

Booth shook his head again and dug into his trouser pocket for the dollar coin he had. A hot meal seemed like a good idea, and he was about to walk away when someone asked him, “You here for the show, boy?”

Surprised by the question, he turned to see a wizened figure in tattered overalls and worn pair of old miner’s boots. Both man and boots were the dull color of road dust.

“Just passing through, mister” Booth answered slowly. “Though I must admit to some curiosity. You folks do this kind of thing regularly?” he said, thrusting a thumb in the general direction of the rain-maker.

The old man laughed, and it sounded to Booth like the braying of a water parched donkey. “That fool,” he cackled, “is always trying out some new fangled contraption or other. Got a powerful yearnin’ for the sciences.”

Tilting the brim of his hat up and scratching the side of his head with a ragged fingernail, Booth gave a kind of noncommittal grunt. Though there was no particular reason for it, he felt compelled to speak out on the rain-maker’s behalf. Maybe it was his own rebellious nature or maybe it was just his general sense of fair play. “Well now,” he said after a moment’s reflection, “I suppose a man is entitled to investigate the mysteries of the Lord’s creation as best as he sees fit. Don’t you think so?”

This elicited another burst of laughter. “Hoo-wah, yes-sirree! Best entertainment in town, boy. A couple of years back it were casting lightning bolts, if’n you can believe such a thing. Lightning!”

A little surprised at the revelation, Booth looked back at the rain-maker. “You don’t say? Well now, I suppose I have heard tell that Northern men can do such things.”

For a third time the old man laughed and the sound of it was setting Booth’s teeth on edge. “Oh now,” the old timer said once the guffaw’s subsided, “I’ve heard the same, son. The difference being, that feller over there won’t have no truck with witchcraft of any kind. It’s science or nothing at all with him. Damn fool’s as stubborn as they come.”

Though he’d rarely seen it for himself, Booth did know a little about the practice of witchcraft, or craft as it was more commonly known. And while it wasn’t as common in the States as it was up in the North, there were still plenty of practitioners and believers throughout the Union. Booth started reevaluating his first opinion of the rain-maker. Maybe, he thought, I was a just a little too quick to judge.

Leaving the old man behind, Booth crossed over to the wagon and, in an appreciative tone, said, “That is a fine rig you have there, sir.”

The rain-maker didn’t turn around. Rather, he spoke over his shoulder with bubbling excitement in his voice. “Why thank you, young man. It’s one of a kind and easily without peer or equal in these parts, but not for long. Oh no, mark my words, lad. Soon drought will be a thing of the past. My system will see to that!”

Booth nodded at the man’s back-side. “A fine sentiment, and it’s surely to your credit. My name is Morgan Booth by the way.”

At last, the man turned. After rubbing his hands with an oily rag he extended one in a polite greeting. “Hostlebeck, sir. Edwin P. Hostlebeck to be exact: amateur pluviculturalist, voltaic entrepreneur, and general man of the scientific arts. And what,” he said, grinning broadly, “would be your line, my young friend?”

Shrugging, Booth said, “Not much of anything just at present.”

Hostlebeck looked him up and down for a long moment and Booth imagined what the rain-maker saw. He figured it was what everyone seemed to see at first glance: a callow youth in a battered hat with an old army-gunbelt slung over his narrow hips. Combined with a forgettable face, he was easily overlooked in a crowd. Rarely, if ever, did anyone manage to see past Booth’s skin to the depths beneath. Hostlebeck though, must have caught some glimpse of those undercurrents, for he eventually said, “Have you ever worked as a cloud-buster, my young friend?”

Booth wasn’t entirely certain what a ‘cloud-buster’ was, but he figured it probably had something to do with the art of rain-making. “I cannot say I’ve had the pleasure, though I have handled rockets before.” The last he said with a gesture toward the ones Hostlebeck already had staked out in the pasture.

The rain-maker’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that so? May I inquire as to how you gained such experience? I beg your pardon, but you seem a trifle young to be acquainted with these devices.”

Nodding to show he was not offended by the question, Booth said, “I was a scout for Colonel Beatty. He had under him a troop of rocketeers at the Battle of Big Nemaha River right there at the end of the war.”

Hostlebeck nodded soberly. “Ah yes. Those would have been the older Congreve style of rockets. Primitive but revolutionary in their own right. Mine,” he said with a grand sweep of his arm, “are of a unique design, though in principle quite similar.”

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