On the horror of reality

When I was in grade-eight I went to the Red Rock Theater on Charleston...

...by myself and bought a ticket for Rescuers Down Under with the full intention of walking into the theatre showing Total Recall. I won't tell you that this film changed my life, but there was a practical effect costume of a woman with three boobs. Okay. It changed my life. Thank you, John Carpenter.

This led to finding David Cronenberg which led to a near obsession with splatter-fest horror flicks. I can’t count the number of times I’ve watched the whole Troma catalog up to 1999. Buckets of blood, check! Gratuitous violence, check! Terribly beautiful practical effects and costumes, check! Playing for $2 at midnight, check! The Night Birds, wrote a great song about this:

Lyrics, if you’re interested. And, if you want to see what it’s like to play your heart out to a bunch of punks who are too cool to be a part of the art, watch this. Seriously, just stay home. Fuck that audience... all 20 of them. Digression!

As I’ve aged, I’ve lost my stomach and that’s kind of a bummer. But, the fact is… I’m living in one of these films. My daily is filled with blood, and shit, and bile. When was the last time you saw (not to mentioned smelled) human bile? For me it was yesterday. And it’s always “yesterday” no matter when you’re reading this. It’s too bad. I really used to dig these movies. But, as I sit over here wallowing in self-pity, something that I’ve honed to an edge worthy of Masamune, my mind turns to what reality is like for my son.

If this is the type of horror movie my life resembles, Owen’s life must be Lovecraftian. I can’t even fathom the confusing, fucked up, terrifying, bizarre experience his reality is. Fuck.

Go read a book.

/g

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1 Blog 3 Goals: 1. A Constitutional amendment overturning Citizen's United | 2. Abolish the Electoral College | 3. Reinstate Glass-Steagall. We. Can. Do. This.