AUNT GLADOS is just >totally fine< being the small god of the PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE VOICE

[image description: A sour-looking woman with a cybernetic left eye whose HAL-like lens glows with the same Replicant gold as her right eye. The long gray stripes of her hair are arranged in a Crullea-esque up ‘do. Text reads, “164, AUNT GLADOS is just >totally fine< being the small god of the PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE VOICE”]

*looks directly into the camera for a long and silent minute before beginning to do her job*

You know, if you’re tired of your current archivist, you could express your satisfaction more directly than by lumping all the gods of unpleasant literary technique together and expecting me to document them in a linear fashion.  If you had wanted, you could have done that.  It didn’t have to go down this way.  Just in case you were wondering.  There were other ways of doing this.  But it’s FINE.  It’s FINE.  I can see that if I still have a job tomorrow, I’m TOTALLY FINE with spending another two sessions sitting with gods of literary device and feeling like I cannot be trusted with a typewriter!

It’s FINE.

Aunt Glados is simultaneously one of the oldest and one of the youngest small gods of literary device, although “youngest” is doing a lot of heavy lifting there, as she has existed for literal centuries, as unchanged as human nature, as unforgiving as your mother on the day she realizes you no longer depend on her to make your decisions, as perpetual as pain.  She is centuries old, if not millennia, and it’s fine if you want to forget about her until you need her, it’s JUST FINE, there are always more exciting literary devices, aren’t there?  Ways of saying things that seem more urgent and enriching, ideas that need to be expressed?

She doesn’t mind.  She’ll be sitting here when you get back.  Alone.  In the dark.  But maybe you shouldn’t wear that if you want them to take you seriously.  Them who?  Doesn’t matter.  Any them you care to target.  They won’t like those pants.  You’re throwing your potential away.  But who am I to tell you that?  who—

Oh, this is not a god I enjoy spending time with.

Her adherents can be very pleasant people, but they are not, on the whole, good for anyone’s mental health but their own.  She cares more for her own comfort than for yours, or theirs, or mine.

And that is Aunt Glados, and I am going to go take a shower.


Join Lee Moyer (Icon) and Seanan McGuire (Story) Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for a guide to the many small deities who manage our modern world, from the God of Social Distancing to the God of Finding a Parking Space.

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