Subliminal, in an unnoticeable way
Important, and hard to see.
Important, and hard to see.
— They Might Be Giants, "Subliminal"
"Could nefarious supercriminals have altered your favorite comic or puzzle, for evil purposes? It’s best to handle the Sudoku with tongs, just to be sure!"
If you play an Oasis album backwards you hear messages from Satan.
Even worse, if you play it forwards you hear Oasis.
Even worse, if you play it forwards you hear Oasis.
"nevaeH ni tra hcihw rehtaF ruO, ruO rethaF hcihw tra ni nevaeH"
— Bone Thugs-n-Harmony Intro...
"Yvan eht nioj!"
Roger Waters: "Congratulations, hunters, you've just discovered the secret message! Please send your answer to Old Pink, care of the Funny Farm, Chalfont..."
James Guthrie: *interrupts* "Roger, Carolyne is on the phone."
Roger Waters: "Okay."
James Guthrie: *interrupts* "Roger, Carolyne is on the phone."
Roger Waters: "Okay."
— Pink Floyd, "Empty Spaces," The Wall
The videotapes themselves are unremarkable - unless you can pick out the subliminal messages keyed into the magnetic tracks. Messages like "support your police," "protect your family - report all strangers," and "it is good, so very good, to belong." Operating in a hidden Construct (possibly outside of mundane reality) Block Party's tech staff dubs these messages onto all your favourite films. Within a few weeks, local citizens become concerned watchdogs. Before long, they reevaluate local individuals, locations and philosophies. If someone seems too strange or steps too far outside "community values" local couch potatoes can become an irate mob. Now that's entertainment! And it's suitable for the whole family...
— Mage: The Ascension - The Technomancer's Toolbox
Demon Secretary: Oh, there's someone beseeching you for aid in their hour of need, et cetera et cetera, how could you forsake him after he did your bidding, blah, blah, blah, yakkety-smakkety.
Satan: And did he do my bidding, as a matter of interest?
Secretary: No. He played a record backwards and thought he heard you talking to him.
Satan: Heavy metal?
Secretary: "Spanish Eyes".
Satan: Now, if it had been "The Girl from Ipanema", he might have had a case.
Satan: And did he do my bidding, as a matter of interest?
Secretary: No. He played a record backwards and thought he heard you talking to him.
Satan: Heavy metal?
Secretary: "Spanish Eyes".
Satan: Now, if it had been "The Girl from Ipanema", he might have had a case.
"Let me put back on the music that will, uh... that will soothe your soul. Yes. This is it. This is—... The music for the ritual. D-Do you hear the music, Atlus Video Game Company? Do you recognize this music? This-This music, uhhh... This music will hypnotize you into letting me play Persona 3, the game that you own, Atlus Video Game Company. Please, Atlus Video Game Company, I'm begging you--"
— Calliope Mori playing "Burn My Dread" backwards, hololive
Gigi: Welcome to media manipulation and subliminal messages where we invent bullshit to keep people distracted! Who do you think invented The Minions?
Minions: (incomprehensible gibberish)
Gigi: Look what happens when you slow it down.
Minions: (slowed down) KILL YOUR PARENTS.
Reagan: Meh. I wanna kill my parents anyway. Not impressed.
Minions: (incomprehensible gibberish)
Gigi: Look what happens when you slow it down.
Minions: (slowed down) KILL YOUR PARENTS.
Reagan: Meh. I wanna kill my parents anyway. Not impressed.
Satan's subordinate: Sir, we're just not reaching them. Only a small percentage of people own vinyl records, and hardly anyone thinks to play them backwards.
— Jason Love, cartoon formerly at jasonlove.com
◊
◊It was the sound recording. The tape had caught what my ears could not hear: the real audio track of the movie. The voice track.
It's hard to describe.
The sound was yellow. A bright, noxious yellow.
Festering yellow. The sound of withered teeth scraping against flesh. Of pustules bursting open. Diseased. Hungry.
The voice, yellow, speaking to the audience. Telling it things. Asking for things. Yellow limbs and yellow lips, and the yellow maw, the voice that should never have spoken at all.
The things it asked for.
Insatiable. Yellow.
It's hard to describe.
The sound was yellow. A bright, noxious yellow.
Festering yellow. The sound of withered teeth scraping against flesh. Of pustules bursting open. Diseased. Hungry.
The voice, yellow, speaking to the audience. Telling it things. Asking for things. Yellow limbs and yellow lips, and the yellow maw, the voice that should never have spoken at all.
The things it asked for.
Insatiable. Yellow.
