we're deep into the rabbit hole bitches. i'm grave. 28, queer, & trans (he/him.) i'm usually either reading fanfiction or writing it. love u lawxie馃挏 about me my AO3 | my FF.net here have some tags fic tag | fic progress art tag | fanfic recs personal tag | answered asks
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Ceaseless watcher turn your gaze upon this fuckin thing
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The Murder Victims Killer would come to be known for their calling card; a dead body left at the scene of each murder.
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Whoever said frogs say "Ribbit" was being incredibly reductive some of these guys do say "Ribbit" but a lot of them be saying "岽祲岬夅禆" some of them be saying "Waauu" and some of them be saying "Fuck" but I don't know who taught them that one.
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i hit the bong as hard as i was able and wrote this game in an hour and 20 mins for low effort jam 22 and it was really fun. i am posting it all here for free!
if u want a pdf u can dl it on my itchio (also for free), + u can also toss me some coins there if u thought it was funny or nice or it helped u do something or u are into the idea of me making more games: https://iraprince.itch.io/smoke-weed-and-do-something
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I have learned over time to never give your characters placeholder names while creating them because while developing them you will absolutely get attached to the name to the point you don鈥檛 want to change it and ur epic character will be stuck with the dumbass name forever became it means too much to you
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write in the tags your nationality/which country you're from!
for USAmericans: write your state instead of USA to avoid having a way-too-easy yes sweep
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Um

While it is foggy, it is DEFINITELY NOT -273 C OUT THERE
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The other night I reorganized the folder on my computer where I keep all the weird New York Herald personal ads I post.
Over the years I've been clipping these I've come across a handful of personals that were just straight up written in code.

As I was going through the folder I noticed that almost all the coded ads were printed within a year or two of each other (specifically between 1850 and 1852). Looking a bit more closely I also began to realize that the same coded words and phrases were appearing across multiple personals - suggesting they were all written in the same code (which appeared to be a basic substitution cipher), likely by the same person/people.


Possessing multiple samples of the code, struck by the type of confidence that only hits at 11:30 at night, and having the little know-how remaining from a special interest in cryptology in middle school, I thought... I bet I can crack that.
So I took the longest coded personal I had at the time (the image directly above - I've since found a much longer one), cracked open a notebook and got cryptoquip-ing.

I had a few little hitches due to words being mispelled in the original ad and a few unclear letters due to poor quality newsprint, but I soon found myself with a mostly decoded message...
"This morning at elevn[sic] precisely be at Carter's bookstore two eighty five Broadway. As a prete?h ask for their directory. Don't fail."
I made myself a key (V and W are Q and Z, but as neither letter is ever used in an ad there's no way to tell which is which.)...

...and got to decoding the other personal ads and putting them chronological order.
Let's see what was worth encoding 175 years ago...
July 16, 1850 -

"You have arrived by this time I suppose my own dearest Josie. I shall wait ivpatiently[sic] for the Asia** hoping to hear from you. I went to vespers Sunday and sat in your pew. You are never out of my thoughts. I have written down all that has occurred which I thought would interest you. We will read it together on our first drive after your return. I kiss this on which your eyes will rest. Do not forget your own fond devoted Jerry."
** There was a Cunard Line transatlantic paddle steamer called "the Asia" launched in 1850, but I checked the dates it was in New York that year and neither voyage fits what's said in the messages.
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September 12, 1850 -

"Welcome my dearest Josie; when can k[sic] see you."
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September 17, 1850 -

"Not one word from you dearest while away or since you returndd[sic]. Have your feelings then changed, See last Thursdays Herald. I dare not see you for the first time at home."
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October 10, 1850 -

"I鈥檓 sick with anxiety about you, love. Will you not see me."
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The ads then skip almost two years (I'm planning to go through the intervening microfilm by hand at some point to make sure there aren't any sneaky ones I missed)...
June 3, 1852 -

"Dearest - I was very ill whne[sic] you wrote."
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July 4, 1852 -

"Deareft[sic] - Just return[sic] from Albany write again to me box in post office."
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July 7, 1852 -

"Today three oclock Jersey City ferry house."
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July 8, 1852 -

"This morning at eleven south ferry New York side."

Street cars and omnibuses wait outside the South Ferry terminal in New York City, circa 1865.
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July 13, 1852 (the original message I decoded) -
"This morning at elevn[sic] precisely be at Carters Bookstore two eighty five Broadway. As a pretexh[sic] ask for their directory. Don鈥檛 fail."

Carter's Bookstore (indicated by janky arrow) as seen in a panoramic view published in Gleason's Pictorial, March 18, 1854.
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Another time skip, this time 5 months.
December 14, 1852 -

"Give me a da y[sic] dear."
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And the final message (that I've found as of writing this)...
December 25, 1852 -

"Mnray[sic] at elevn[sic] Catharine Ferry New York."
It may not be the most thrilling of Victorian espionage, but it still feels pretty cool to read something no one else has read in 175 years.
I've gone through about 3 months worth of microfilm by hand and found two more coded ads that weren't picked up by the text recognition due to blurry newsprint, but it's a slog so it's going to take a while.
So what are our theories? Did these two crazy kids make it? What was keeping them apart? Why the two year gap? What were all the meetings for?
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A bit of Moby-Dick oceanography context:
Up until the mid 1870s, it was generally accepted that life could not exist below a depth of 550 meters. This is why some of Ishmael's whale theories are so off and why Ahab pictures the sea floor as a vast wasteland of bones and shipwrecks. 馃寠
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