CRAIG CONLEY (Prof. Oddfellow) is recognized by Encarta as “America’s most creative and diligent scholar of letters, words and punctuation.” He has been called a “language fanatic” by Page Six gossip columnist Cindy Adams, a “cult hero” by Publisher’s Weekly, a “monk for the modern age” by George Parker, and “a true Renaissance man of the modern era, diving headfirst into comprehensive, open-minded study of realms obscured or merely obscure” by Clint Marsh. An eccentric scholar, Conley’s ideas are often decades ahead of their time. He invented the concept of the “virtual pet” in 1980, fifteen years before the debut of the popular “Tamagotchi” in Japan. His virtual pet, actually a rare flower, still thrives and has reached an incomprehensible size. Conley’s website is OneLetterWords.com.
The stress of being on television can make a person blink a staggering 176 times a minute. But as proven here, one blinks only on television, not off of it. It's a weird phenomenon. From Washington College's 1974 yearbook.
"Half of the world is transparent; the other half, opaque" (Carlos Fuentes). That means this transparent globe is half inaccurate. Then again, no map is wholly accurate. From Northeastern Illinois' yearbook of 1971.
It looks like the reflected sign below the clocks says "colon room," and for our purposes that's auspicious, for the colon in a modern clock brings the digital realm to the analog one pictured. Yes, this is a time travel device. For vital instructions on how to use these sorts of photos for mystical ends, see How to Hoodoo Hack a Yearbook.
This time-bending photograph is from Lambuth's 1977 yearbook.
The ghost on the right has no head, the ghost on the left is mostly a red blur, and the head of the ghost in the middle is transparent. From Appalachian's 1977 yearbook.
One might assume that these lesbian vampires came out for Monster Movie Nite, but given the occult nature of old yearbooks, who knows. From Eastern Kentucky's 1975 yearbook.