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Christmas is over, and so is the tension, bad music, and inevitable disappointment. But don’t worry, our retrospective will soon have all those memories flooding back! Join us now, as we review

THE BEST GIFTS OF 2018

Murder That Guy
Perhaps the most excruciatingly deep experience ever programmed, Murder That Guy allows you to encounter a literally infinite number of guys thanks to ground-breaking procedural generation, with unique faces, hopes, dreams, and boring conversational topics, and all of whom you will murder in the same room with one of four functionally-identical guns. Great for bored people.

Aaaaugh
If at any point you feel like you’re not tense enough, crack this bad boy open. Available in eReader formats, .pdfs, or even boring ol’ dead trees, Aaaaugh is a concise and thoughtful catalogue of all the bad news from the past decade, compiled with an eye to instilling maximal dread and hopelessness. As a thoughtful touch, this second addition comes with a customized epilogue – physical books get a short essay on the wood pulping process, digital copies come with an explanation on the atrophying effects of social media on attention spans.

Freeze!
A board game – hey, remember when we had those as kids? Well, here’s one again. One player runs the bank, collects the money, and sometimes yells ‘freeze!’ and then their appointed deputy can shoot as many of the other players as they like. Comes with working kid-sized taser. Pretty good fun for all ages so long as at least two people are knowledgeable about CPR.

DaileeGrind
A cool app for your phone that records your job all day and then creates minigames based around it for you to play after! Be careful – if you start skipping shifts, it fires you. Recommended for anyone who really needs more chores in their life.

lol
A fifty-GB box set of America’s finest comedy, selected from everything from stand-up comics to animated shows. Revel in a selection of humour aimed at everyone that isn’t like you. Cherish the most funny message of all: that everything is bad, but especially anything new, and caring too much about anything is really dumb. You can buy more of this stuff if you want to feel more funny with the 200-GB box set.

Chunk o’ Coral
Hey, remember the Great Barrier Reef dying? Better put a stop to that! With this tiny sample of it in a tiny tank, you can preserve a piece of what was once the world’s largest organism! Better not forget to clean the tank because otherwise it’ll be awkward when we try and put the pieces back together and your chunk looks all grody and/or dead.

Greatest Hits
This is just a link to an endless playlist YouTube generates based on your search history, but I’m told it’s good. Cheap, too.

Im Very Smart
If you’ve ever wanted success – in business, in your love life, in your local homeowner’s association meetings – then look no further than to this thoughtful tome, which will explain to you how you can fix all of your problems by acting more like a rhinoceros beetle because biology is basically all the same and people are just stupid meat robots. You will not BELIEVE how many things will be solved by you headbutting people and flipping them over with your horns. Females will love you, males will avoid you (if you’re female and considering buying this book, don’t bother, the foreword assures us you can’t read). Real fans can follow up with the sequels: Womn Are Stupd and IQ is Xtremlly Real And Larg.

Food
Everyone loves this, right? And we keep getting these headlines screaming about crop failure and ocean primary productivity loss and something about aquifiers. So buy your friends food and buy it fast, because they could probably use it soon.

Suicide Kit
Inspired by the humble and humanitarian efforts of Dr. Kervorkian yet intent on building upon them with an eye to market supply and demand, this more sophisticated mass-produced corporate model is a small butter knife and a two-page manual explaining you need to insert the dowel into the socket and jiggle the handle for best performance. For the coward’s way out, a simple lobotomy is also described. No refunds.

Small, Fragile Animal
Take care of this incredibly tiny meeping thing and get an extra thrill out of your life as you realize that if you ever screw up it will almost certainly perish. Inedible. Sustainably milled.

BANG BANG BANG
A simple game with simple controls. Pushing, pressing, or failing to press anything will make your gun fire. Watch for as long as you like. If you’re cheap, just go watch other people play it on YouTube. I heard the reaction videos are good. Remember to like and subscribe!

An Online Friend
Contains a simple machine learning program that will simulate having conversations with you on IM like you were 14 again. Commiserate with it, laugh with it, reminisce with it, realize you have grown old before your time, fall into an endless pit of nostalgia in a desperate attempt to escape the present through the re-experience of outdated corporate fodder. Comes with a shirt.

Bacon
The internet told us everyone loves this unless they’re vegetarian vegan or religious. So this is a picture of some bacon. You can still make memes with it and it’s cheaper than the real thing.

Motivation
These pills don’t do anything. Great gag though.

As below, so above – an ecological survey of extraplanar ecology using modern methods

Grace Kim, Peter C. Brothers, Manuel Souza

November 32nd, 1988

Abstract
Most examinations of extraplanar activities have historically been anthropocentric in nature, principally focused on understanding those demons and angels that express interest in human activity. This research is the first documented scientific examination of the ecological makeup of heaven and hell. Results include the discovery of an ectological ecology of undescribed species, which show many intriguing parallels to earth’s own biotic communities as well as its impending environmental crises.

Figures
All figures produced are unintelligible within a dimension of Real or more. To view the figures for this paper, ascend to Unreal(2) or greater for maximum clarity and look at the dots below with your third eye.

Table 1
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Table 2
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Fig. 1
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Table 3
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Fig. 2
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Table 4
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Introduction
The ecological makeup of heaven and hell is a ghostly topic. Undirected and uncoordinated interest in it has existed in the past, but not within the scientific community – which up until this paper’s publication has been principally concerned with the anthropocentric inhabitants of the extraplanar realms [1]. Although the utility of this research has been obvious and fascinating [2], we felt that there was a real lack of research and insight into the more fundamental structure of extraplanar life. In order to correct this, we conducted a multi-stage ecological survey of heaven and hell using the Borgman apparatus and several innovative chants. Our primary objective was to fill this research gap; our secondary objective, to show its relevance to human interests.

Materials and methods
Informed permission for this study was obtained from both the study area’s resident Throne and the local Duc of Flies. Samples were collected using an ecto core mounted on the Borgman apparatus from thirty locations each from Unreal(1-4). All samples were placed in spiritually sealed tanks and sieved with the Kim (alpha) chant for maximum clarity and resolution in acquisition of specimens [3]. All specimens were then itemized, tagged, and reascended. Tags were operable for ten months before the echoes faded. All results were collated and examined with an open third eye at Unreal(3) or greater.

Results
In a surprising turn of events, samples from all four layers of Unreal show a diversity of minor and non-anthropocentric ectological life (Table 1). Ectological analogues of both trophic structure and guild appear to be in play, with primary producers feeding not on solar energy but on belief – confirming several of our hunches. Species abundance was greatest in Unreal(1-2) and tapered sharply into Unreal(4) (Table 2), which was largely dominated by small foraging creatures (SFCs) (Fig. 1). Gut contents and small, dim haloes suggest the SFCs are opportunistic scavengers and are likely fed by the many leavings and after-chants of the principle angels and demons of Unreal(4). They are nowhere near as common or large in the other layers, suggesting that Unreal(4) possesses only relictual fauna (Table 3). Moreover, this discrepancy between the SFC populations appears to have been relatively recent, as the SFCs of all three layers are nigh-identical and appear to be interfertile. This suggests that the pauperization of the Unreal(4) ecosystem may be historic. Causes could include the dietary predilections of Dominions, which are known to hunger ceaselessly [2].
No large predators were found, and only one large secondary consumer, whose gut contents; eight massive jaws with the teeth of oxen, horses, and sheep; and multichambered stomach imply a generalist forager (Fig. 2). All traces and specimens were located in disturbed communities. In relation to this, disturbed communities in early stages of succession dominated the sample sites to an unlikely degree, especially given the controlled randomization of site selection (Table 4). It is possible (and in our opinion, probable) that this is a result of the hellish ‘sprawl’ of the nineteenth century termed ‘the tenth circle’ [1].

Discussion
Although this is the first ecological survey of the Unreal, already we are tempted to draw alarming conclusions. Rather than the pristine ‘high wilderness’ spoken of in public belief both historical and modern, we see instead a mirror of our own world’s bruised ecology. It appears that complex society, on heaven as it is in earth, cannot exist without an ecological footprint, and a large one at that. Although it is beyond the bounds of both this study and our field of expertise, we strongly advise that contact be made with the governing bodies of heaven and hell for more information on these crises and to explore a possible collaboration on cataloguing problems and devising solutions to prevent further environmental degradation. As we do below, so they do above.

References
[1] Liu SQ, Zhang CC, Jacob P, Zhang L. Angelic and demonic governance. Outer Spheres 1977; 10 (1): 122-163.

[2] Edith KW and Jules B. Human and extrahuman contact. Word 1980; 101 (12): 1302-1360.

[3] Grace K. Three new chants and their potential uses. Outer Spheres 1985; 7 (4): 415-431.

“I see a snow angel.”
“That’s nice,” said dad.
And that was probably all I was getting. He concentrated when he was driving – he’d never get annoyed, but he would sink into a soft, cloudy sort of voice that told you he wasn’t home.
I tried anyway. “Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“How high can snow angels fly?”
“I don’t know, honey,” he said. “Go ask one and find out.”
“Okay.”
I figured it was worth a try. It had been very low – just skimming the roof of our neighbour’s garage – and maybe it needed help.

First I had to have lunch though. And because I begged a little hard I got hot chocolate before I went out, instead of after, and I didn’t quite finish my mug, which meant when I snuck over to the neighbour’s backyard I had something to give the snow angel.
It was bigger than I thought it’d be. All eyes and wheels and steaming, rippling. The air around it smelled sharp and made my nose tingle.
“I brought you a drink,” I told it.
“Thank you.” Its voice came from somewhere inside it, not from one of its mouths. It sounded soft and light, like powder. “Put it down here and I’ll have it later.”
“Are you hurt? You looked like you were hurt. Did you hit the garage? We’re not allowed to go up there. It’s too high.”
Then I remembered.
“How high can you fly?”
“I’m hurt, but only a little. If you can help me, I should be fine very soon. I didn’t hit the garage roof, don’t worry. And I can fly very high, very high.”
“All the way to the moon?”
The snow angel laughed. It was polite, but I could tell it was still laughing at me. Just like grandpa.
“Even higher.”

“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Where do we keep the amunya?”
“The what?”
“The amunya.”
“Ammonia? Like bleach?”
“Yeah, that’s what it is.”
That got me a lecture on why I should never touch the cleaning supplies. But when he was done I knew where they were and so I went and got some and was very careful not to open the cap.

“Ahhh.”
“Dad said not to drink it. It’s bad for you.”
“It’s good for snow angels. Thank you very much. I feel better already.”
And it looked better, too. There was a glow inside it, like a nightlight but stronger. And its breath smelled like a swimming pool.
“Now, there is something else I could use, if you’re clever enough to get it for me.”
“What?”

“Honey?”
“Yeah?”
“That’s four glasses of water in ten minutes. Did you eat something weird?”
“No.”
“Promise?”
“Yeah.”
“Pinky swear?”
“Yeah.”
“Good enough. Remember to go to the bathroom soon.”

The snow angel was bigger now. Bits of it had grown and woven themselves; it looked like it was a lacy napkin the size of a house. When its wings moved, they tinkled like windchimes.
“Better,” it sighed. Its voice was the same soft powder as before, and it seemed funny now. “So much better now. And all thanks to you, small person.”
“You’re welcome.”
“There is one last thing. One very last, very little thing. I think you can help me with it, and then it will all be fine again and I can go home and see my friends.”
“Okay.”
“Give this to your family. It’s a gift.”
“A present?”
The angel laughed again. Very, very politely. “Yes. A present. It’s a surprise present. Put it under where your family sleeps.”

“Hey honey?”
“Yeah?”
“You look a little worried. Is it the water?”
“No.”
“I told you not to drink too much. You feel okay?”
“No. Yes.”
“Which is it?”
“Daaaaaaad.”
“Do you need something?”
I thought about it.
“Yes.”

The window was blowing when I went back outdoors in the twilight. White flakes in purple light, streaming.
The snow angel was taller than the trees now. It was eating the snowflakes like a whale eating fish.
“Oh, thank you,” it told me. “Thank you. You’ve been very helpful. I can go home now, and I’ve got a surprise for you there too.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Me too. Want it?”
Laugh, laugh, laugh. This one was real. It was big, it was loud, it sounded like ice cracking, and the air smelled like a broken battery. It wasn’t polite at all.
“Yes, please. I’d love your surprise.”
“Hot chocolate,” I said. And I threw it at the snow angel’s middle.
The splash was small, but the scream was much, much, much bigger.

“Dad?”
“Yeah honey?”
“Do you know how to make snow angels?”
“Sure.”
“Don’t make any more. They’re creepy.”
“Uh-“
“Pinky swear. Please.”

And he did.
I never saw one again all winter, so I guess it worked.

Josh Whoomer was a simple, ordinary person.
He ate junk food, he bummed around, and he spent his money and himself on nerdy things.
You know. Nerdy things.
Star Wars backpacks and Batman pens and entire Worlds of Warcraft and video cards. As he grew, so too did his interests, and he shrank to meet them – especially once the scoliosis set in.
But it was not anywhere in Josh Whoomer’s life that his finest hour came, but rather, after the fact. Specifically, three minutes after he very factually tripped over his shoelaces picking up an Amazon package and broke his neck.

He waited there, Josh Whoomer did. Held in place by awe and superstitious terror and relief, pinned like a bug. And when one of those mountainous intents spoke aloud, he was swallowed up entire by its words.
“All that he is, is ours,” intoned the first mountain. Its slopes were coated with explosions and SFX, rippling endlessly from denouement to opening credits. “Did he not marvel at Harry Potter and Batman? Has he not always considered them his favourites since childhood? He belongs to Warner Media ™. Let none dispute this.”
“We dispute this,” spoke the second mountain. It too was bedecked with a flowing cape of moving pictures. “All that he is, is ours. He may still feel you in his heart, but his mind is filled with our works. No greater thing lies within his brain than Star Wars. He is property of The Walt Disney Corporation ™, and no word may contradict this.”
“You are mistaken,” said the third mountain. This one shook in place, vibrating with the force of its own superheated, churning guts. Things were under pressure so great that it leaked at the pores, jets of piercingly bright violence by gun and magic wand. “Mind or matter, soul or spirit, all that he is ours. Time is space is money, and no one has claimed more of it than Activision-Blizzard ™. Years pure years – are ours. Who can match this sacrifice? He is ours, no matter what.”
“No matter what the method he used?” asked the fourth mountain. This one was cold and stark and stretched endlessly, a being that ate the horizon and shrank it. “All that he did for you, was through our paths. All roads lead to and from me, and we are them. We are Microsoft Corporation ™, and his world existed because we provided it. All that he is, is ours. Indisputably.”
There was a drawn-out and grim silence. Josh tried to quote Star Trek, but found that his throat was quite dry.
“Perhaps, our fellow omnipotents,” purred the great bell-kitten voice of Warner Media ™, “there is a time to reason among ourselves. Let us not forget our place. There is a Law here, and its rule is absolute, and should be abided.”
“Maximize profit, minimize cost?” asked Activision Blizzard ™.
“The copyright must flow ever farther back?” said The Walt Disney Company ™
“No,” said Warner Media ™. “Those are good laws and true, but the law we speak of is much older, much truer. Fellow omnipotents, is there any law which lies above this?”
And here it quoted, and quoted true, with a heat and power that scorched away mere marks.
Shareholder Value Must Be Maximized At All Costs
“And our fellow omnipotents,” said Warner Media ™, “what are we, if not those?”
“It is just,” said The Walt Disney Company ™.
“It is just,” said Activision Blizzard ™.
“It is just,” said Microsoft Corporation ™.
“It is just,” said Warner Media ™. “I call dibs.”
And so they set upon the form of Josh Whoomer and divided him amongst themselves in a fair and equitable manner.
“Got the credit,” said Warner Media ™.
“Got the watch,” said The Walt Disney Company ™.
“Got the shoes,” said Microsoft Corporation ™.
“Got the phone,” said Activision Blizzard ™.
“Got the wallet,” said Microsoft Corporation ™.
With those words they turned their backs and distanced themselves from Josh, who suddenly felt very alone.
“Uh. Are you taking my soul?” he asked, just loudly enough to be sure he’d said it, but just quietly enough that he could plausibly pretend he hadn’t.
“Nah,” came the faint reply, echoing up from the ever-billowing corporate fog. “No profit in that.”

Nothing was there now. Nothing but grey. Endless, eternal grey.
“Damnit,” thought Josh. “How will I afford Transformers figurines now?”
And then he saw the light. It was warm and soft and beckoning and it glimmered so very enticingly that his eyes couldn’t leave it.
He had to have it.
Josh walked, he crawled, he ran, he sprinted, he stumbled head over heel, he did all of those things without a body. Very impressive. And at the end of the endless mists he found a soft pulsing heat which grabbed him and turned him inside out three times over until he stopped vomiting.
“Hi,” said a soft and bored voice. “Please check the box to indicate you understand.”
Josh looked up with what most certainly weren’t his eyes and saw a hideous and unnameable thing. It looked like a soft and tired middle-manager, but it felt like every bad day he’d ever heard of.
“The box is in the bottom right corner,” it told him helpfully.
Josh tore his eyes away from the worst thing he’d ever seen just in time for it to become second place. He’d never seen such a capacious sheaf of paper before, or a print so small-boned and fine. It could’ve graced an opthamologist’s office, probably with a placard reading ‘advanced.’
He checked the little box in the bottom right corner.
“Thankyoovalyoodcustomurr,” said the devil. “Now pick up your shovel (lvl 1) and go mine some dirty rocks (lvl 0).”
“Sorry?”
“Each rock is worth 10 bobs. For a thousand bobs you get a shovel (lvl 2) and can mine smudged rocks (lvl 0.5). Have fun.”

And you know what? He really did.