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 Forum index » Archive » Archive: Ephemeral » ARG: Eldritch Errors
Kevin on Earth
Moderators: aliendial, celina63, konamouse, rose, thebruce
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tipsila
Unfettered


Joined: 10 Apr 2006
Posts: 545
Location: In the back of your mind

 		Kevin on Earth
Nooo, not Kevin. Noooo Crying or Very sad

Mkaos wrote:
It is with a very sad heart that I write this, but Kevin Cosby, better known to most sentries as GetMeOut, passed away on Thursday evening. Though I know some of us felt that this was a very real possibility, I know that we all had hopes for a different explanation for his sudden absence on the forums.

I happened to reach his father who was at Kevin's apartment collecting some of his favorite things and reflecting on the life his son had been building. We spoke for a good long time, I think he enjoyed having the opportunity to talk about Kevin. He's extremely proud of his son and, it was very obvious when I was talking to him, just where Kevin got his passion and humor. I could hear Kevin's anger, frustration, and pure love for life in his dad's stories. I was a bit taken back by it all and, at times, it felt like I was talking to Kevin.

The family was notified of his passing early Friday morning which, at least, gave me some peace that he hadn't been there for some time. They've made arrangements for a private memorial at a beach where Kevin and his family spent much of their summers. His father passed on a story about a young Kevin building a model of himself in the sand that was the full width of the beach and declaring to his dad that it was "better than Heaven, it's Kevin on Earth." They knew then that they had a handful and it seems to give them some peace that they'll be releasing his ashes there.

I know that some of you will be concerned about accessing the files on Kevin's computer and, though we didn't speak of it specifically, it will be at least a few weeks before they clear out Kevin's apartment. They would like some time to adjust to the loss before dealing with all the business that goes with death and they will be spending that time at the beach where they have so many happy memories.

I will keep this post open to comments for those of us that would like to remember Kevin by sharing thoughts and memories that we have on them, but I do ask that we keep it respectful. Suicide is a personal choice and it often leaves those left behind angry at that choice.

And, please, if you are considering suicide, please seek help. Kevin's father and I are both struggling with the fact that he didn't reach out to us, as I'm sure many of you are. No matter how hopeless it feels and how determined you are, it's good to talk it out with someone. If you aren't comfortable sharing with a friend, please contact the National Hopeline Network at 1(800)SUICIDE.


PostPosted: Sun Jul 01, 2007 6:16 pm
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WolfHawk
Entrenched


Joined: 15 Nov 2006
Posts: 1247
Location: St. Louis

 		This is horrible.
_________________
Having abandoned my search for the truth I am now looking for a good fantasy.

The light at the end of the tunnel may be the headlight of an oncoming train.

PostPosted: Sun Jul 01, 2007 6:24 pm
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konamouseModerator
Official uF Dietitian


Joined: 02 Dec 2002
Posts: 8010
Location: My own alternate reality

 		*konamouse kept going back to SO just to read Kevin's posts. Crying or Very sad

I'm not a computer programmer, I have no idea about all this BOIL and MUD and stuff like that. I'm not very happy.
_________________
'squeek'
r u a Sammeeeee? I am Forever!

PostPosted: Sun Jul 01, 2007 10:59 pm
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sior
Greenhorn

Joined: 27 Sep 2006
Posts: 9

 		A lurch in my stomach - a genuinely shocking development. RIP Kevin. Who's next? And how do we stop it?

PostPosted: Mon Jul 02, 2007 2:16 am
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roseModerator
...and then Magic happens


Joined: 26 Nov 2003
Posts: 4117
Quote:
Who's next? And how do we stop it?


No idea how to stop it - we've been trying. I don't understand the boil either.

Sorry Kevin.
_________________
I love this site for being free, in every sense of the word~Spacebass

Mankind was my business, the common good was my business.~ Dickens

PostPosted: Mon Jul 02, 2007 11:06 am
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Obtusitivity
Decorated


Joined: 05 Jun 2007
Posts: 193

 		Just wanted to post this here as well. I'm bolding anything that stands out to me at the moment...

Quote:

The city is quiet tonight – no one wandering the streets, no cars zipping past my window. A haze blurs the sky, the stars hang like watery drops on the tips of quivering eyelashes. Peaceful, really. Am I standing in the eye of the storm, or resting in the lull before it? In the end, I suppose it doesn't matter – its coming. She warned me.
Us.
I laughed, thinking I was invincible.
Unstoppable.
I laughed, thinking it was a joke.

Which one of my many missteps led me here? Which path was I supposed to take? Stay home, grab a job at the local store, settle down, marry young and have a bounty of children? Somehow I don't think even a life like that would bleach the stains of my earlier sins. I crossed the Rubicon, slipped into the city, and brought with me whatever clung to my clothing, what got trapped in the fibers as I brushed along the walls of the cave. I didn't know they were arms, weapons turned to us, poised to slice us into the minor tones of tortured screams.
There's no end at the beginning. The finality doesn't set in until the last act. A tension builds, the madness stirs - there's no peace in that process. Not until the curtain drops and the heavy velvet dampens the noise of the crowd. Then.
Then there's peace. A peace of Heaven, if such a place exists.
My fingertips, shoved into my ears, can't dam the noise.
Can't stop my heart racing, my hands from shaking.
I can guess what's coming.
I don't think I turned it on, but maybe the dog followed me home. A carrion stench wafting from me, drawing it closer. Maybe it's all because of me. Maybe in my hunt for my path, something found me instead. I can't stay. I can't wait. Whatever pestilence flows through my veins draws the dogs with the rotten stench of flesh. I'm no antidote, and my guess to a cure… it may not even be one. Tip over my King. Fold my hand. Ante up.
Just another viral cog in the grinding wheels of the catching machine.
Another soul wasting time.
Another faceless cry trapped in the dreams.
How could I?
Peace.


PostPosted: Mon Jul 02, 2007 9:05 pm
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SGT.Napalm
Boot


Joined: 28 Jun 2007
Posts: 11

 		well if his blog wasnt updating, i kind of figured he was dead...i thought everyone knew that. awward.
i figured out how the story ends. eceryone dies. the end. yay i win.
really, im at a dead end.

PostPosted: Sun Jul 08, 2007 10:19 am
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danteIL
Unfictologist


Joined: 08 May 2006
Posts: 1990

 		We didn't really have another good thread on Kevin/GetMEOut, so I'm using this one.

Anyway, I wanted to collect the circumstantial pieces of evidence that something more was up with this dude than we knew (as Econjen pointed out, Hindsight is 20/20):

Okay this first one is a stretch:
In this post, Kevin asks Howard if he heard "tribal drums" when he burned his package.

Next, after Kona posted her beetlesex picture, Kevin made the strange observation,
Quote:
"Must be of the genus Coleoptera romanica... "
First of all, since when is he a beetle expert? Secondly, there *is* no 'romanica' genus of beetles (Order Coleoptera) that I can find via Google. Instead, 'romanica' seems to refer to an artificial interlanguage of Romance languages. But, I also wondered whether it had anything to do with Romania, the birthplace of the Chorazos Cult.

Then we get to the post where Kevin tells us about his ritualistic past:
Quote:
The same post mentions "chorazos" which is ringing a bell somewhere in my brain chasm. I swear I've been to something put on by a group of people calling themselves that. There's a shitload to be said for ecstatic ritual - nothing else comes close to the feeling of total freedom. But I've been to so many late-night hooptie dances in the forest/cave/basement, I can't tell one from another (a situation not at all aided by the involvement of drinking/eating/swallowing things in order to play with the natives) - I mean, there was the one with the blood heads, one of them had some sort of giant bonfire, another with what I think was some sort of rodent worship - shit, I might have been half-way to Hale Bopp and I wouldn't have known unless I woke up the next morning donning a shiny new pair of Nikes and a Kool-Aid hangover


Then, a little bit later:
Quote:
And I think I'd better go read up on that link someone gave me about the Chorazos thing, because, yeah. Not likin' this "can't remember wtf I did" bit.


Finally, we have this:
Quote:
I'm not a "Chorazos," I just went to one of their soirees once.


EDIT: I also thought I should add the dream that he posted on the DreamWiki:
Quote:
My dream starts simply. People are all streaming out of the city, marching like ants - dark rows of movement, crawling their way up the hill like millipedes along branches of trampled road. A brown sky hovers over the scene. The sun is blocked and sinking down the horizon, but a few cracked shards break through leaving enough light to navigate. I'm at the edge of the city, next to the wall painted with names. I see my message from before, the charcoal still clinging to the rock, resisting erasure. A set of initials has been added, their red now crackled and brown, luminescent in the stormy twilight, shimmering with vitality. Below, a pile sits, glinting silver specks - toe nails, painted to a brilliant sheen. Reaching down, I grab a fist-full and toss them into the air, and they float up into the atmosphere, twinkling multitudes of tiny crescent moons, little smiles tearing holes in the matted darkness. I look down. Seeing "Chorazos," I remember that I have somewhere to go, people to find and to follow. Before leaving, I pull my remaining sliver of charcoal out of my pocket and circle the messages: "Remember me," I add before joining the marching lines heading towards the cave. Towards the pounding rhythm. Towards the smell of roasting flesh. Towards the chortling laughter that is so low and steady, it hums like a chant. I leave with a smile on my lips and a spring in my step, anticipating a show like none other. Maybe someone will catch up and find me in the crowd. I could use someone to laugh with.
And then I wake up


Emphasis added by me. His image of the ritual is just a bit vivid, huh??

PostPosted: Wed Jul 18, 2007 4:34 pm
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