No Foolin'

It's the Calends of April. And we all know what that means.

That's right. Happy Veneralia!

The Veneralia (April 1) was the Ancient Roman festival of Venus Verticordia ("Changer of hearts"), the goddess of love and beauty. The worship of the goddess Fortuna Virilis ("Bold fortune") was also part of this festival.

As ever--or at least, as in the last few months--GigaNotoSaurus celebrates the holiday with a new story. This month, it's "The Elgin Age" by S. Hutson Blount.

“It’s neither the position of the Navy Department nor that of the government as a whole to treat manifestations of the Olympians with any religious significance. Rather, they are officially foreign powers.”

Corney gave the chaplain a warning look. “It’s the first time on the Mediterranean Station for most of the crew, myself included, Mr. Reed.” He pushed his roast beef around on his plate a bit before continuing. “Captain Mahan displayed considerable foresight, given the emergence of this Kathcarte business. Can you elaborate on the situation beyond the cable we received in Gibraltar?”

Go read!

No Foolin'

It's the Calends of April. And we all know what that means.

That's right. Happy Veneralia!

The Veneralia (April 1) was the Ancient Roman festival of Venus Verticordia ("Changer of hearts"), the goddess of love and beauty. The worship of the goddess Fortuna Virilis ("Bold fortune") was also part of this festival.

As ever--or at least, as in the last few months--GigaNotoSaurus celebrates the holiday with a new story. This month, it's "The Elgin Age" by S. Hutson Blount.

“It’s neither the position of the Navy Department nor that of the government as a whole to treat manifestations of the Olympians with any religious significance. Rather, they are officially foreign powers.”

Corney gave the chaplain a warning look. “It’s the first time on the Mediterranean Station for most of the crew, myself included, Mr. Reed.” He pushed his roast beef around on his plate a bit before continuing. “Captain Mahan displayed considerable foresight, given the emergence of this Kathcarte business. Can you elaborate on the situation beyond the cable we received in Gibraltar?”

Go read!

Oh, about April Fools

Once upon a time, I had a Peter Gabriel fansite. There was a fun, small community of Gabeweb webmasters, and we hung out and chatted and whatnot and it was a good time. I'd probably still be doing it if I hadn't shifted my creative energies towards writing fiction. But anyway.

So, one year, one of us proposed that we all (okay, I think there were three of us) post a particular piece of ridiculous Peter Gabriel news on our sites. I don't really find much humor in actually fooling people--what, it's supposed to be funny that they fell for a lie? And then it's funny when they realize what you've done to them, made them look ridiculous or even upset or hurt them just so you could laugh? Really? I'm not getting it.

But this, this was so outrageous no one could possibly believe it. It wasn't meant to trick anyone, just to be outrageous and silly.

So, okay, sounds like fun, I thought, and posted.

And then the critical, angry emails began pouring into PG's assistant's mailbox. Because people visited their favorite sources of PG news and found our April Fools joke. And believed it.

We immediately took it down. We apologized, publicly. And we all felt awful, because first off, we never meant to actually fool anyone, and second, PG's assistant had always been very friendly and we felt we had a good relationship with her (to the extent we had a relationship, which wasn't much, but still) and we were horrified to think we'd damaged that.

That was the last time I ever tried April Fooling. I enjoy the silly jokes--I smiled at Happy Owls, I like what happens today if you google "Helvetica." I giggled at the news Google was hiring autocompleters. But I don't have any patience with actual attempts to trick people. And I don't have any confidence that I'll be able to come up with some sort of silliness that won't be mistaken for the truth.

So, I don't do it.

Oh, about April Fools

Once upon a time, I had a Peter Gabriel fansite. There was a fun, small community of Gabeweb webmasters, and we hung out and chatted and whatnot and it was a good time. I'd probably still be doing it if I hadn't shifted my creative energies towards writing fiction. But anyway.

So, one year, one of us proposed that we all (okay, I think there were three of us) post a particular piece of ridiculous Peter Gabriel news on our sites. I don't really find much humor in actually fooling people--what, it's supposed to be funny that they fell for a lie? And then it's funny when they realize what you've done to them, made them look ridiculous or even upset or hurt them just so you could laugh? Really? I'm not getting it.

But this, this was so outrageous no one could possibly believe it. It wasn't meant to trick anyone, just to be outrageous and silly.

So, okay, sounds like fun, I thought, and posted.

And then the critical, angry emails began pouring into PG's assistant's mailbox. Because people visited their favorite sources of PG news and found our April Fools joke. And believed it.

We immediately took it down. We apologized, publicly. And we all felt awful, because first off, we never meant to actually fool anyone, and second, PG's assistant had always been very friendly and we felt we had a good relationship with her (to the extent we had a relationship, which wasn't much, but still) and we were horrified to think we'd damaged that.

That was the last time I ever tried April Fooling. I enjoy the silly jokes--I smiled at Happy Owls, I like what happens today if you google "Helvetica." I giggled at the news Google was hiring autocompleters. But I don't have any patience with actual attempts to trick people. And I don't have any confidence that I'll be able to come up with some sort of silliness that won't be mistaken for the truth.

So, I don't do it.