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Howard Hughes Goes Dark

Fuck you, October. Once upon a time, I did not hate October. I hated autumn, in general, since I was a kid, but October got a pass, because of Halloween. My enthusiasm for Halloween waned years ago, and now October 1 marks the beginning of autumn on my head calendar, and so I fucking hate it. Add to that the much cooler weather in New England. Yesterday was a dismal, wet last day of September. Currently, it's 58˚F and sunny.

If I have a "superpower," it's the power to always make my situation worse, no matter how bad it may be.

Yesterday, I waded back into Black Helicopters and tried to pick up where I left off on a scene I last worked on in late July. I didn't get very far. I'll try harder today. I need to plow through this Black Helicopters stuff in the next few days.

A nightmare this morning, and I won't go into the details, but someone I used to admire, a former mentor, said, "I honestly expected more of you." And he also said, "We're starting not to miss you." Right.

Though I'd hardly recovered from the masterful final episode of Twin Peaks: The Return, last night, Kathryn and I finally watched Trey Edward Shults' It Comes at Night. I suppose that it's a very effective post-apocalyptic/psychological thriller. But I just cannot watch "horror" films anymore. post-November, I no longer have what it takes. The message of It Comes at Night seems to be "When terrified and desperate, human beings will do unspeakable things to one another. Even good people will do this." But we know that. I no longer see any need to keep repeating that particular truth. And we know that humans don't have to be scared and desperate to commit atrocities. It's a given. A hard, cold fact. No need to say it again. This is why, for example, I stopped watching The Walking Dead at the beginning of the last season. I just can't do it anymore. My nerves are shot. My constitution not longer permits "terror and horror as anything remotely resembling entertainment." And given my vocation, this puts me in a very difficult situation.

I'm very tired.

Aunt Beast

10:45 a.m., today


( 1 comment — Have your say! )
Brett Davidson
Oct. 1st, 2017 10:34 pm (UTC)
I remember reading recently a definition of good horror necessarily having an element of wonder. Though the word 'pornography' is a loose and slippery one (since people can be casual about 'porn, as denoting straightforward erotica), the 'erotic' is ultimately joyful and transcendent while the 'pornographic' is voyeuristic, compulsive, morbid and sadistic (though all of these in the context of BDSM could be positive). News that dwells on carnage and scandal, horror that reduces to butchery and torture is pornographic. Maybe your problem is not with horror per se, but a degraded horror that has fallen from the sublime to the pornographic. I certainly see more possibilities for sublime horror in the art of the late 19th and early 20th century Symbolists than in Jigsaw. Anyway, I just happen to prefer vampires to zombies.
( 1 comment — Have your say! )