Notes from the Petting Zoo

More thoughts on horror movies, because, well, my mind’s on ‘em lately.

Horror movies (and stories) are a map of our morality.

Horror takes us to the edge of what we think is decent and acceptable, reveals this edge to us, and then hurls us unceremoniously over that threshold, where we tumble in the muck and slough.

Nothing, I think, reveals more about a society’s real mores and moralities than its tales.

And in this definition of “society” I include a spectrum of groupings. I include a large population, a small town, an age group, a social group, sexes, races, every possible grouping that one can think of usually has some kind of morality or mores or social customs, such that a story of horror leaps across that boundary, dragging us by our scruffs every inch of the way.

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What movies terrified you as a kid (or as a grown-up)? Why?

Here, I’ll go first:

The Quatermass Xperiment
I watched this alone, late at night and it was just sorta’ scary, but then there was a sequence where the man who had been transformed was weeping about what he’d become and suddenly it was terrifying to me that a person who was good could be under this and so terrified it hurt him.

Quatermass and the Pit
Again, I was alone, but somehow, the idea that we were manufactured entities, that our very existence was because we had been engineered as slaves and were helpless in the hands of the descendants of our masters frightened me. The image of the final, flaming Martian head stayed with me for years.

Forbidden Planet”
The killing in the night by the creature from the Id of Morbeus spooked me, but when it actually walked into the energy barrier and no matter how much energy they fired at it just made it more angry and how tremendously alien it looked left me very shaken. Like the other character from the movies, its cries and screaming haunted my dreams.

Furankenshutain no kaijû: Sanda tai Gaira (War of the Gargantuas)
Oddly enough, most people consider this movie tremendously bad, but I watched it when I was very, very young. The scene of a woman being eaten and then her clothing spat out frightened me very much. As I recall, even the “good” gargantua was killed and I was inconsolable about that. And a particular sequence where they are attacked by lasers absolutely terrified me and I had nightmares about being attacked by lasers for decades after I saw that. I have not seen the movie since the two times I watched it as a kid, but obviously it stuck enough to embed the title firmly in my head.

Phase IV (the 1974 version, of course)
This movie about intelligent ants struck me at a very peculiar time. Our family had just moved to a desert community (from Detroit!) and the ants out in the deserts of Phoenix are very large and very painful, and seem to attack at times in frightening concert. So, watching this movie, seeing people in a desert being trapped and threatened and killed by intelligent ants acting in concert went right into my budding intellectual hopper. It did not help that my brother and another friend had recently suffered mass attacks by these same damn ants while I was near them (I swear, Arizona ants are seriously bad-ass fuckerpants, although I won’t even go in the same continent as a myrmecia gulosa, so you Aussies have tremendous respect from me.)

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I’m trying to wrap my brain around The Da Vinci Code.

Specifically, the supposed controversy around it.

On one hand, it is a work of fiction with references to real historical documents and actual societies and so forth. In this work of fiction, there is a man who marries a woman and has kids. The church covers this whole business up, for the obvious reason that the knowledge would be very threatening, assuming the church was still that powerful. As far as I understand it, this is a very ordinary sort of thing for a man to do. So, yeah, I can understand the idea of this clearly being a work of fiction, grounded with a few threads of known information, telling the story of a man doing ordinary man-like things, the kind of things that most men did and still do and will probably continue doing for a long time.

On the other hand, there are people who are insisting that this is a work of fiction and who seem to be violently opposed to this work of fiction because it contradicts what they believe to be true, to wit a man who is conceived spontaneously by an supernatural being inside a virgin, who did all sorts of supernatural things, who was killed and rose again from the dead and who supposedly loves us one and all, unless we doubt him in which case we will be eternally burned and tortured. And he watches us all the time. Even when we masturbate. Especially when we masturbate.

Am I the only person who thinks those folks having trouble with this book need to buy a few more mirrors and a few less doses of crazy pills?

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Evidently, 97% of people polled were unable to distinguish the difference between a person from Finland and a Satanist.

Finnish rockers ‘not Satanists’

Here’s your first hint: The Satanist usually dresses quite snappy.

Some people…

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You can trust your brain and intellectual prowess, or you can trust your guts. But wouldn’t it be better to trust the guts of your enemy? I mean, isn’t that why you pulled them out and dropped them on the ground in the first place? Plus, you’re now down one enemy, and that can’t be all that bad.

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Every once in a while, someone tells me, in a somewhat self-righteous fashion, “I don’t drink coffee,” but they screw it up just a bit, putting the emphasis on the “drink” part.

So, most of the time, I respond back with “Well, what do you do with it?”

I probably ought not to, however, because as far as I know, there are really only two other uses for coffee:

1. In Hawaii, a certain kind of frog is easily killed by misting it with coffee. It’s an invasive species and quite obnoxious, and coffee is really the best way to deal with the issue, as it makes their little hearts flutter and pop. Then, supposedly, the feral cats eat them.

2. Apparently, coffee makes an excellent enema for one reason or another.

So, the next time I hear that snotty voice saying “I don’t drink coffee,” all I have to do is figure out if I’m in Hawaii. If I’m not, then I know they’re not hunting frogs.

If you catch my drift.

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“Hey! Listen up. I’m omnipotent and omniscient and, well, pretty much everything and anything I want to be, so if I want you to know something, then I will sure as shit tell you right to your face. In flaming letters. I won’t mess around. So, with that in mind, please be aware that there are some folks who are pretending to know what I am thinking and speaking as if they are speaking for Me. They are not. I can speak for Myself quite well — I am pretty much all-powerful, remember. But, you all have Free Will, so I can’t go in there and just smite ‘em like I used to. They will do what they do and say what they say, but this does not mean I have to sit here with My thumb up My ass. I can inform you that if you have any respect for Me at all as an omniscient, omnipotent being who cares deeply for all of you, then you’ll understand when I tell you that they are simply talking shit. Put ‘em on the news if you like, or let ‘em direct how you choose your leaders, or how you vote, or whatever, but I just thought you should know My opinion on the matter. I’m God and I approved this message.”

(By the way, check out this and other fine products at our fine CafePress store: Heaven Cent!)

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I would invent an airline that specializes in the most relaxing flying experience you ever had.

It would be like those capsule hotels — instead of seats, you would have self-contained capsules. You could still interact with the service crew the same way, through a little button/intercom sort of deal. You could stretch out and nap. There would be one access hall, just enough for two people to pass each other. Other than that, as many capsules as can fit.

Each capsule has its own video display and you can watch movies or listen to music or whatever you like. But you would by lying down, always relaxing. You could still get up and walk around a bit to stretch your legs, but no more cramped seats, no more stinky seatmates, no more arguing about a window seat.

You could get on, slide into your tube, and spent the rest of the flight totally sleeping and not being an inconvenience to anyone!

Well, you’ve had to get out to get to the bathroom, too, of course. Assuming there wasn’t a built-in tube of some sort.

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I would invent an ATM machine that allows you to manage the properties of your ATM card at the machine. For example, why should I have to tell the machine I speak English each and every time I log in. Can’t it just frickin’ remember?

And what if I want to change my password? I should be able to do that at the machine.

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I would invent a device that makes cigarette butts leap off the road at the intersection and drop into the back seat of the car being driven by the wankjob that pitched the lit cigarette butt outside just before the light turned green.

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I would invent a road-follower. Like a cruise-control, but with a camera and sensors. It just basically follows the road, but only if there are no cars within a quarter mile of you. If there are cars nearby, or if it loses track of the road, it immediately slows down and starts blaring enough of an alarm to wake you up.

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I would invent a magnetically keyed birth control for males, implanted before puberty, if at all possible. It would fit in those tubes and pretty much lock the Wiggle-Works up. It could only be deactivated using a specific set of radio keys. It would be like a vasectomy, but re-activating the Baby Bubbles would be totally external. And then, after you had played knock-knock, you could send the signal again and lock the system back up.

Just like a handgun, but probably fewer accidents.

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I want to invent the Ultimate Food Burrito. I’ve spoken of this before. This burrito supplies all the nutrients a human being needs and sufficient food products such that it’s healthy. The Ultimate Food Burrito is tasty, but not varied. Probably three basic flavors, “salty”, “spicy”, and “sweet”. Or something like that.

If a human being decided to live by eating Ultimate Food Burritos per day, they could survive indefinitely. In fact, it would probably be better for them than Burger King. Of course, eating from the catbox is better than Burger King, but who’s gonna split those hairs?

The Ultimate Food Burrito needs no refrigeration.

The Ultimate Food Burrito needs no tools or preparation — simply unwrap and eat. Heat it if you like, but it’s not necessary (just like Pop-Tarts).

The Ultimate Food Burrito will not leave you feeling bloated, nor like you ate a ball of air.

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I want to invent a cat door that lets me control it remotely from bed. That’s where I am when I hear the cat wanting out, and I can just push the button and the cat door becomes slack for about thirty seconds. Ordinarily, it stays locked in case some frickin’ squirrel or raccoon or Warwick Davis wants to sneak into my house.

Then, when I hear the furry little bastard yowling to come back in, I can again just push the button.

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I want to invent CD packaging that plays tracks from the CD. Is that so hard? Just a playing chip that plays, say, the first minute or two of a track you select, all a part of the packaging. For preview purposes. Even low-res audio would be fine, of course.

I mean, right now, it can’t be any more obnoxious than that humongous radio theft-control patch and those ridiculous “security” stickers. Just a little flat chip, like you see in birthday cards, that has a super-easy interface (I could do it with one button and one little bargraph display).

The cost can’t be that high, and certainly considering how much our asses are being pounded by the huge profit margins on CDs, they can afford the extra fifteen cents per CD for a built-in preview system. Or, they can follow the usual business model and raise the price two more bucks to cover that 15 cent part.

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In the field of customized biology, I would invent a mosquito that only targets zits.

Do I really have to explain how grateful the world’s teenage population would be?

I didn’t think so.

And that would be the end of parents telling their kids “You need to get outside more!” Now there’s a reward. Unless you’re Gothy.

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Another thing I think we need around this planet:

Remote controls that are screenprinted directly under the buttonskin and the buttons glow when you push a certain unique button.

I’ve got remotes that glow, but their printing is actually next to the button, so the glowing makes the buttons harder to read. Stupid, stupid things.

I also have remotes with commands that are printed directly on the button, but because there’s no buttonskin over it, it wears right off after a year or so.

Finally, I have remotes that are printed right on the buttons, but the colors are low contrast. So, the button is light gray and the printing is light blue. In dim light, humans (who are evidently not a part of test groups at these manufacturers) lose their color sense, which means that a grey button with light blue lettering suddenly becomes a gray button with no text at all.

It can’t take much, right? Just one good design for a remote control, something that can be used in the darkness or dim light of a home or home theater. I’m not picky — I’m just right.

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We need more Vital Inventions. Things that are just so damn handy it’s unbelievable.

I would invent is a peanut butter jar that is wide and flat. This allows you to get the damn knife in there, or an apple slice, or a jar scraper, and get all the peanut butter. And it doesn’t have an underlip, either. The most useful jar of peanut butter on the planet.

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Who is that mysterious Third Person that sometimes shows up on dates?

It’s usually an early stage of dating. First, second, maybe third date. Things will be going along well, even pleasantly, and suddenly, she’ll say something, such as “Oh, he knows how to cook” or “Oh, he knows how to give a halfway decent backrub” or… well, a variety of things.

She’s right here and I’m right here, so she must be talking to me, but then I’m not sure of the subject. About whom is she speaking? Who is that Third Person?

Usually, it is revealed that the subject was, in fact, me. This makes it even freakier, because if I am the subject, then with whom is she speaking? Again, who is this Third Party?

I’ve heard of fellas doing it to gals, too. One fella I know seems to be keeping track of some kind of elaborate grading system with this mysterious Third Party. He occasionally announces “pluses” and “minuses”. Other fellas I hear talk to the Third Party about other things their dates do, less appropriate for sensitive ears, I suppose.

Is it an imaginary friend? Is it an invisible alien? Is it a guardian angel? A fairy godmother? A tiny, tiny, tiny inhabitant of Whoville?

No matter who it is, I’m discovering that the sort of folks who bring along mysterious Third Parties tend to be the sort of folks who don’t last very long around me. And why would they? They already have a social group. I just can’t see it.

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(at Enrika’s request)

(Assuming I think of Edward-related things as weird, but I figure it would be six things that I or other people might consider unusual, even if they knew me. Or thought they knew me. I had to ask my wife for help — the last two she reminded me of. She reminded me of some others, but um, maybe another time.)

1. I can clap one-handed. I can do so with either hand, or I can set them both clapping at the same time. My favorite one-handed clapping trick is to play a version of The William Tell Overture, with two one–hands-clapping accompanying each other. I decided to figure this out when I was a wee ickle lad and I overheard the koan about one-handed clapping, so I decided to figure this out on my own.
2. I only type with four fingers. I can touch-type, but I am excruciatingly slow at it and make many mistakes. I totally cheated on my typing exams to pass. In reality, I type using the index and middle fingers of each hand. The spacebar is hit by my thumb. I type like the wind, though, extremely fast. I’m not going to break any world records, but I type really fast for not using half of each hand. I can type with a single finger faster than most people I know, so a lot of times I can eat and such while I’m still typing without appearing to be incompetent.
3. I thought all children spent their formative years in oxygen tents. I was terribly embarrassed when I discovered that this was unusual.
4. I hate arguing. It makes me queasy and wobbly and disconnects me from the people around me. As much as I hate this, though, even worse is not standing up for something I believe in. I will cause a ruckus if I absolutely feel it must be done. When I argue, I will keep it as simple as possible and I will hammer and hammer and hammer away because I hate it and I hate drawing it out and I want to end it as soon as possible.
5. I look forward to my hair going white. Gray will work, but I’m looking forward to earning that long mane of white hair. My blood doesn’t tend to support it very well until I’m a lot older, but it’ll come, it’ll come.
6. I have a low-level terror of falling asleep, as if I’m constantly fighting against it and I’ll do nearly anything to stay awake some nights. However, I fall asleep at the drop of a hat and have even been diagnosed with a mild variation of narcolepsy.

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