The Squid Man Lives!
Wednesday, February 23rd, 2011 by Vanity Kills
The Squid Man Lives!
Story by: Dan Barrett
The rotting cottage loomed ominously at the edge of the murky bayou. These ruins, long forgotten by the present civilization, would not appear on any map you could buy, nor would any boat be traveling in their vicinity. The place was deep in the Louisiana bayou, south of New Orleans near a place that was once called Ascension Bay. The remains of the bungalow would suggest something had resided there at one point or another in history, though none of the locals could recall what, nor when, it had been anything other than swampland. There was no point in traversing the thick marsh to get near the ruins anyway; the useful items and prey could easily be gotten in the bog’s less dense and dismal regions. Despite the place’s seemingly uninhabitable nature, there was indeed a creature who called this place home. A terrifying hybrid beast, long severed from the lineage of normal swamp man: Squid Man.
The anthropomorphic squid monster made its home in this shadowy everglade, undisturbed, for countless years. It sustained itself by hunting and killing fish, like the fearsome barracuda (note: though not native to the ecosystem, much like the Burmese python in the Everglades this invasive species was introduced by disillusioned pet owners and, strangely, thrived in the brackish waters of this particular bayou. Squid Man enjoyed hunting these due to their ferocious nature), and shellfish which lived in the waterways, along with swamp deer, nutria, and whatever else it could wrap its slimy tentacles around. It spent most of its time grazing in the rivers of the great swap, and could submerge itself for longs periods of time to track prey. Primarily a nocturnal creature, it would occupy many a night with relaxing in the water, enjoying the murmurs and buzzes of the swamp, and gaze at the stars, the sky unjaded by the brightly lit touch of the humans which the tentacled one so detested. When necessary, it would take shelter in the remains of the lone antiquated gator catcher’s shack, the remnants of which, scarcely four walls and what could questionably be labeled a roof, would provide adequate lodging until it could return to hunt or swim. When researchers entered its lair, some years later, they discovered the organism had ornamented the walls of the broken house with the decorated pelts of many of its kills. The adornment seemed to be somewhat artistic, perhaps even ritualistic, although the purpose of keeping these items is still undetermined. The few people who had ever ventured that deep into the swamp have reported the area surrounding the house was permeated with a dense fog, and noted they thought they had seen faint green lights deep within the mist in close proximity to the edifice. This was probably the main factor which would lead to the rumors the marsh monster was of either demonic or alien origin.
The origins of Squid Man are unclear, at best. Until approximately 6 years ago, the cephalopod was completely unknown to the local residents. There were no confirmed recorded sightings, although perhaps the nonsensical stories of a few drunken thrill-seekers did have an iota of truth to them, though understandably these had been brushed off as intoxicated fantasies. But then, oddly, after years of concealment, it emerged from the confines of the bog. It took up residence in a nearby town, somehow renting an apartment and compiling a remarkable assortment of music making machines. 
The owner of the apartment building was spooked when asked about the being, and all he divulged was he was convinced that through an old voodoo curse his family bloodline was under a hex, and the squid headed entity was an ancient demon from the abyss watching him to make sure he paid his debt to society. For this reason he gave the briny horror a room. Tenants often complained of strange, disturbing noise and the overwhelming smell of raw, putrid fish coming from the room. About a year after isolating itself in the apartment, the green beast materialized once again, and further integrated itself into society. Now, it had created CDs of music and was distributing them out to the local clubs and DJs. It was calling the sound on these discs ‘power noise’. Surprisingly, this music apparently appeals to some remote faction of the population, and the Squid Man’s project actually caught on. Some promoters even asked for it to perform at their club. Word of the phenomenon spread, and the muck-encrusted one went on to perform its power noise at many a venue in other cities. The harsh, crushing beats pummeled audiences as much as their confusion when they realized an actual monstrosity was creating these sounds. Through it all, it never lost its hatred of humans. It refused to ever give interviews or talk to either press or fans. It was even rumored to have eaten the brains of several paparazzi who ventured too close looking for a scoop. For several years, the creature from the swamp captivated, terrorized and perplexed the denizens of the industrial scene until one day he was offered a major record contract with Universal records. Unfortunately, as it was a squid, could only shoot ink from its detestable mouth, and could not give enough vocalizations to auto-tune. Upon realizing what auto-tune was, the slimy fiend, in a fit of rage, destroyed the studio and mauled several interns, consuming their brains in the process. After the incident, the label was forced to tear up the contract and Squid Man, unable to bring himself to sellout, returned back to the depths of the ancient swamp to again gaze at the darkness of the nightsky, untainted by the bright lights of human civilization. He was never heard from again, but his legacy lives on through 15$ plastic discs covered in seemingly alien symbolism, and t-shirts bearing his visage. They say on calm nights if you stand at the edge of the bayou and listen carefully, you can still hear the faint crackle of power noise in the distance.
Disclaimer: All taxidermy props showcased within the context of this photoshoot were thrifted.
Inspiration List: Cinematic swamp sleaze( Namely Hatchet), cephalopods, Ziggy Stardust(though admittedly I’ve never quite developed a taste for Bowie’s sound), recycled taxidermy, fog enshrouded bayou lore, Worms of the Earth live shows, The X-Files, knitted headwear bearing a slight similarity to Lovecraftian horrors, cryptozoology and power noise.
Behold the biogenesis of a new species!
Creepy cryptids that lurk in the murk favor dead-fauna-hued apparel that will easily allow them to blend into snarls of decaying parasitic vines that make up the seemingly impenetrable, tangled overgrowth of the quagmire that they call their home. The Squid Man wraps his mantle in a soft acrylic knit long sleeved Black Dog Sweater 34-51 Tunic Top in the olive colorway prior to embarking on his nightly swamp stomp. The black stretch canvas contrast at the shoulders and twill tape accents on the back add further points of interest to this sexier, significantly more form fitting alternative to the ghillie suit (though ensembles fashioned with the purpose of transforming man into a vaguely humanoid mobile bush are pretty damn sexy in their own right, don’t you think?)
Clever marine invertebrate disguise
Moss draped MIDI controllers, partially moth eaten raccoon pelts and spoiled fish carcasses all make for mire mutant-turned-the-next-big-thing-in-electronic-music approved accessories.
Regardless of what tall tales might have been spawned deep in the heart of the South’s hazy wetlands(or the narrative above), the Squid Man’s true origin is less enveloped in a cloak of esoteric phenomena than many were initially lead to believe. The betentacled menace was brought forth into our world one sunny November afternoon. Matter-of-factly, not a single cumulonimbus cloud threatened the skies with its ominous, stormy presence as four twentysomething adventurers combed Washington DC’s affluent Georgetown neighborhood, presumably in pursuit of fun.
Truth of the matter was that, my boyfriend Dan’s project, Worms of the Earth played in Baltimore the night before, which prompted several of our New Jersey friends to take a little “down South” road trip in order to catch the live performance. This resulted in us hosting two of them, namely Ray and Val, at our apartment for the remainder of the weekend. During one of the days we ventured to one of the two sections of town that actually stays open on the weekends. It was here that we decided to pay a visit to the local purveyor of assorted hipster tchotchke. It wasn’t necessarily a conscious decision; it was more of a spur of the moment “I wonder what kind of silly garbage they are peddling” inquiry. In between the overpriced books on Lego depictions of fornication, holga cameras, and the history of pointless tattoos, we discovered the diamond in the rough: the face-protecting form of the mighty giant squid. Dan had been scouring the net for this very thing for quite some time, and to make it even more ironic, he had eaten calamari earlier that day (and not, as he expected, calamari rings, but the squid grilled in its original form; head, tentacles and all). So, between the consumption and the dawning of the visage, he fully absorbed the squid’s power and gave rise to the fabled Squid Man persona.
The Squid Man made its debut at a show in Baltimore where Worms of the Earth opened for power noise mainstays Terrorfakt. People seemed to thoroughly enjoy the gimmick, and, as an added bonus, nearly everyone likened the mask to Cthulhu, which works out considering Dan’s love of HP Lovecraft and the influence of said author’s work on the Worms of the Earth project.
More information can be found on the Worms of the Earth website and you can hear the latest EP, Bugs Crawling Out Of People, released via industrial label bandcamp. Additionally, he is working on putting together a compilation of IDM, Industrial and Dark Ambient music for the Wounds of the Earth blogzine.
Credits
Photography & Set Design: Wynn Studio
Model: Dan Barrett(See more of Dan in In Abandoned Places II and MKSEARCH, Subproject 55)
Concept & Styling: Vanity Kills
Location: Parkville, MD
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Vanity Kills
