Everyone has fear. It’s ingrained in our psyche. Anyone who denies it is lying, dead or both.
We all aren’t afraid of the same things, but we still have it. If two people were walking through the forest and happened upon a snake, one person might wet themselves, climb the nearest tree and continue wetting themselves while the other person might pick up the slimy little guy, pet him and treat him like a small child would treat a person. The second person is nearsighted and does a lot of acid.
Some people have very rare fears. For example, coulrophobia is the fear of clowns. This, of course, is a very misguided and unnecessary fear because if they go to a carnival and see some dope in full makeup and baggy pants, he shouldn’t be afraid of it. He should afraid of the carnie inside the clown outfit. They can pass diseases only monkeys have just by handing you a balloon animal.
The point is we all have fear. It’s a fascinating emotion. We’re repulsed by it and yet we seek it out with the same fervor and determination as happiness, an orgasm or love. Some people are actually addicted to it. Clawing at the seats and screaming for one’s very life is the same to them as having the first bite of a chocolate chip cookie after a long hunger strike. These people scare the living crap out of me.
My girlfriend is one of these people. I like horror movies, but she loves them. It makes for an interesting relationship. Usually when I date a woman, I worry about having to compete with other better looking men for their affection and attention. In this case, my competition is Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers and Freddy Krueger and those poor bastards have to wear masks when they go out in public.
The weekend before Halloween, we get together at a friend’s house to watch horror movies. I, of course, get to pick the menu because I make a living writing about and reviewing movies. It’s what I do. One of my other friends is a chef, so he cooks dinner and bakes a cake for dessert. Another friend is an electronics expert, so he sets up his bad ass, big screen TV for the moment. I buy a slasher satire called â€œBehind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernonâ€ and the original â€œDawn of the Deadâ€ because the remake made me wish there was a zombie apocalypse on the off-chance the slow moving zombies would find the geniuses who thought it was a good idea to make stiff, dead zombies world-class sprints and tear them into tiny bite size pieces.
We watch both and there’s not a scream out of any of us, not even a minor jolt or a small jump in our seats. Both movies were excellent, but they weren’t true horror. Eventually everyone wakes up and we go to bed to dream about happy bunnies, rainbows and storm clouds that drop jellybeans on all the happy, shiny people.
I can not tell you the disappointment that permeated in that living room that cold, dark night. It hung on my collar like a cheap, drug store cologne. One friend showed us zombies that were so clear, you could see the maggots crawling around in their eye sockets. The other made a banana nut cake so good that it could make you believe in Jesus. I turned everyone into the Care Bears.
Fear is weird. When it’s there, you feel stiff, immobile and completely helpless and when it doesn’t show up when you want it to, you feel let down, abandoned and disappointed by life. It’s just like watching the â€œDawn of the Deadâ€ remake. Maybe next Halloween, I’ll watch that instead.
“Movies that Suck” is written and was created by Danny Gallagher.
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Visit him on the web at http://www.dannygallagher.net.
(c) 2007 by Danny Gallagher