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Meet the Horror Bloggers: And Now the Screaming Starts

And Now the Screaming Starts Many fans of horror, amateur and professional alike, have devoted themselves to blogging about the thrills, chills, and no-frills side of the genre as seen in cinema and print. In this ongoing series that highlights the writers behind the blogs, we meet the unique personalities and talents that make the online horror scene so
engaging. Up close and personal.

In this installment, CRwM from And Now the Screaming Starts proves that horror fans do not need a lifetime of experience to share in the fun that comes from terror onscreen.

I’m a pretty lame horror fan. I say this because I lack the long involvement that is a hallmark of most fan bios.

I came late to the whole horror thing. Or, rather, I started out as a sort of “monster kid,” fell out of love with the genre in the important teen years, and then returned after more than a decade of resistance.

It all started out classically enough. When I was a little kid, I had this pact with my pops. If I waited until my mom went to sleep, then I was
unofficially approved to “sneak” out of my room and hang with him. We’d catch old monster movies on the local channel. I remember Tarantula specifically.

Meet the Horror Bloggers: Fascination With Fear

Chris at crystal lake Many fans of horror, amateur and professional alike, have devoted themselves to blogging about the thrills, chills, and no-frills side of the genre as seen in cinema and print. In this ongoing series that highlights the writers behind the blogs, we meet the unique personalities and talents that make the online horror scene so engaging. Up close and personal.

In this installment, Christine Hadden of Fascination With Fear talks about her ominous Saturday night alone, and the ensuing damage it wrought. Lucky for us.

 

My obsession with horror came at a very young age. As a small child, my grandfather (a Methodist minister, no less) introduced me to The Wizard of Oz and Willy Wonka – both of which actually have horrifying undertones for kids. (Gene Wilder was seriously demented in that freaky psychedelic boat sequence!) To that effect, a lot of the better Disney features can be brutal as well. Exposing a child to Bambi at too young an age–and I’m telling you from experience–you’ll scar them for life. My grandpap and I would also stay up late watching Bill Cardille (“Chilly Billy”) on Chiller Theater (a Pittsburgh legend). My parents bought me all those crazy Disney ghost story records, I watched all the old Godzilla movies on Saturday afternoons, and, truth be told, I read every last Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew mystery, okay? After school I rushed home to watch the iconic (?) Lost In Space…so there’s my sci-fi link.

I can’t recall how old I was when my parents left me alone for the first time on a Saturday night to go out. Was I ten yet? I should have been but I’m really not sure. But I was forever damaged (and enchanted) after turning on a movie called The Exorcist. And what was that movie doing on regular TV, anyway? Must’ve been around Halloween.

LOTT D Horror Post Roundup

Sherlock Holmes Beware! The game’s afoot. Once again, the archives have been unburied, and the hideous horrors unleashed! For your entertainment and edification pleasure, of course.

Members of the League of Tana Tea Drinkers dig six feet deep to find their past misdeeds…and reveal them to you, one favorite and notable post at a time!

 

Classic-Horror dares to delve deeply into Blood for Dracula:

With all the revolutions in the film industry in the late 1960s and early 1970s, many of the older film monsters were starting to appear cliché, even trite. Dracula, long the enemy of Victorian standards, needed to be updated for a time when such standards had long passed. Leave it to pop artist/film producer Andy Warhol and director Paul Morrissey to do this by flipping the rules around and making Dracula the pathetic victim of permissive social mores.

Theofantastique posits the oppositional reconstruction of vampire symbolism in 30 Days of Night:

After watching the film I came away with the general impression that this is a good vampire film with the potential to breathe new life into cultural treatments of the vampire icon, and it is the cultural reconstruction of the vampire through this film that I will touch on with this post.

Vault of Horror opens up with their defense of The Mist:

Far be it from a curmudgeon like me to say this, but I think it’s entirely possible that we as horror fans run the risk of occasionally becoming a bit too cynical for our own good. Case in point: Why is it that a movie like Frank Darabont’s The Mist, a solid, enjoyable horror flick, has been so roundly pummeled by the online horror community? This morning I’m taking a stand and saying it’s damn fine little fright film.

Groovy Age of Horror shares his beef with bad-arsed jadedness in horror:

To be fair, this is only a handful of pretty marginal examples, but I really feel like something’s getting lost in contemporary horror, even in supernatural horror, and that is a sense of the supernatural as inherently uncanny. This unfortunate trend strikes me as pretty recent.

Dinner With Max Jenke writes up sleazy classic Vice Squad:

What’s amazing about Vice Squad is that the film – and Hauser’s performance – manage to surpass whatever expectations one may have. If you see one movie about a killer pimp in your lifetime, it absolutely has to be Vice Squad – otherwise you haven’t seen sh*t.

Until next week, then…and this week’s photo courtesy of Dr. Macro’s High Quality Movie Scans.

Meet the Horror Bloggers: Dreamin’ Demon

Dreamin demon Many fans of horror, amateur and professional alike, have devoted themselves to blogging about the thrills, chills, and no-frills side of the genre as seen in cinema and print. In this ongoing series that highlights the writers behind the blogs, we meet the unique personalities and talents that make the online horror scene so engaging. Up close and personal.

In this installment, Morbid from Dreamin' Demon tells us why he mixes true crime with his horror. Be warned; what follows is not for the squeamish.

The reason why I blog about the subjects I do are a direct result of Steven Spielberg and the 1989 death of a 16-year-old stripper. My love affair with horror began when my parents decided to take me and my brother to see Jaws at the Thunderbird Drive-In. My brother fell asleep, I screamed throughout.

The resulting nightmares eventually faded and my love of horror was born. Not just in film, but in about everything. I used to get those UFO and ghost story books in the school library. Fascinated by the blurry photos of objects in the sky or white blobs in the stairwells of old houses, I loved reading the stories of the Green Man and The Dead Hitchhiker or The Devil's Footprint. This continued as my mother, not having anyone around who liked the horror genre, took me along to see whatever horror film came out. Classics like The Shining, Friday the 13th, The Exorcist, God rest her old-school, horror-loving soul and not caring about the looks she would get as her young son stuffed his face with Mike & Ikes while staring wide-eyed at the young girl on the screen raping herself with a crucifix.

Frostbite (Frostbiten 2006)
Swedish Vampire Chills

Frostbiten 2006 “The night that all the film crew will remember is when we shot a scene with a vampire who had clambered up a lamppost after devouring a messy meal (another dog). This shot involved a large crane and the actor, who was wearing a thin layer of clothing, was strapped to the lamppost.

“At the time, the temperature was a relatively mild 10-12 degrees below zero, but during the shoot, rain came down from the heavens. I have never witnessed anything like it, and I have no idea how rain can fall when it is way below 12 degrees centigrade. The effect of the rain is that when it lands on anything–particularly metal–it freezes instantly, covering everything with ice. One of the crew very aptly described the rain as napalm, but its effects are the other way round. Within seconds, the camera, crane and crew were covered in ice.

“The poor actor, who was strapped to the lamppost, covered head-to-toe in fake blood, froze in thirty seconds. And that was his first day of shooting and introduction to Frostbite. We actually had to pry off the camera assistant who was stuck to the crane–he was stuck fast to his seat. I think it will be some time before we do another film in the snow” (from the interview with director Anders Banke conducted by Jay Slater, in The Dark Side, Issue 125, 2007).

Zombos Says: Very Good

Once I got past the incongruity of the wise-cracking dogs, I realized Frostbiten, directed by Anders Banke, is meant to be fangs-in-cheek fun, just shown seriously. If you can imagine Fright Night with more blood and bite to it you will know what I mean. This unorthodox blending of opposites makes Frostbiten an off-kilter visual experience: dogs chat it up with Sebastian as he slowly becomes a vampire thirsting for blood; an incredulous police officer is heavily, and comically, outfitted in riot gear before he interrogates Sebastian, now a full-blown vampire; teenagers party it up with helium-inhaled voices one minute, then climb all over the house–really climb–as vampires the next, thanks to Sebastian’s stash of stolen red pills. Sebastian (Jonas Karlstrom) is the medical intern who swallows one of the pills when he should have known better than to swallow one of those pills.

Frostbiten Frostbiten is filled with unusual touches that go beyond talking dogs, lending this first Swedish venture into the vampire genre an offbeat quality–lying somewhere between The Fearless Vampire Killers and 30 Days of Night–making it hard to explain but easy to describe.

It begins in 1944 with a skirmish in the Ukraine. Soldiers fleeing to safety come across a snowbound cabin, find no one in it, although the stove is hot, and assume whoever lived there fled when they saw the soldiers. Unable to sleep, they start to wonder how the people in the cabin could leave it since it was snowbound. The answer, of course, is they did not leave, which leads us to the present day. All of this happens before the title credits role, including a surprising visual flourish that sweeps our view from inside the cabin, quickly through its small window, and up to the winter moon; and to present day Northern Sweden, where dawn is a month away.

Annika (Petra Nielsen) and her quiet daughter, Saga (Grete Havneskold), move to a small town so Annika can work at a hospital where renowned geneticist Gerhard Beckert is conducting research. At school, Vega (Emma Aberg–exuding a sultry, classic Hammer glamour, appeal) takes a fancy to the more reserved, but cute, Saga and invites her to an upcoming party.

Vega is the wildest one in the school clique and insists Sebastian bring suitable drugs from the hospital to liven up the upcoming party. What Sebastion eventually finds are the red pills Beckert has devised as a sort of vampire vaccine. With Vega’s help, the pills eventually make it to the party, and into the punch bowl. The action now moves in-between teenagers at the party getting a blood rush, Sebastian slowly turning into a vampire after swallowing one of the pills, and Annika discovering Beckert’s secret.

Frostbiten Sebastian’s awkward situation–he is meeting his girlfriend’s religious parents for the first time over dinner at their apartment–is the funniest: crucifixes adorn the walls making Sebastian uncomfortable; when he shakes her father’s hand his hand starts smoking; the main course for dinner includes sea trout braised in garlic; and when he succumbs to his blood lust by draining their little pet bunny dry, their pet dog thanks him for getting rid of the attention-getting hippity-hopper. His thirst for more blood lands him in police custody after killing a dog. Seen at the top of a lamppost, he is apologetic to the dog’s owner, who stares at him in disbelief.

Back at the party, Saga is locked in the bathroom, helping a teenager going through the vampire metamorphosis, when the punch bowl is empty and the pills have taken full effect. Suddenly plunged in darkness, the teenager’s glowing red eyes are the only thing to be seen. When the light comes back on, the teenager is on the ceiling and looking for more punch. There is blood everywhere as Saga makes her way through the carnage. Vega, now a real vamp, goes after her, leading to a serious, but comical, denouement with a garden gnome. As the police arrive, and call for “so much f**king backup,” they have their hands full as one vampire quips to them “Don’t worry. It’ll soon be over. Dawn is just a month away.”

The vampires in Frostbiten hop around in high jumps, have vampire-vision–a reddish, squiggly haze–along with glowing red eyes, super hearing (there are humorous subtitles as Sebastian listens to his neighbors), and their faces morph into snarling, devilish creatures as their teeth stretch longer when the need for blood takes hold.

Frostbiten captures a cheekiness for nocturnal sanguine horror that you do not often see nowadays. It delights in mixing its bloody discharges with edgy wit and humor, and showing it through a veneer of seriousness. All of this brings a fresh approach to an old genre.

Meet the Horror Bloggers: Cinema Fromage

Casey criswell Many fans of horror, amateur and professional alike, have devoted themselves to blogging about the thrills, chills, and no-frills side of the genre as seen in cinema and print. In this ongoing series that highlights the writers behind the blogs, we meet
the unique personalities and talents that make the online horror scene so engaging. Up close and personal.

In this installment, League of Tana Tea Drinkers’ member Casey Criswell of Cinema Fromage shares his nerd love for cheesy horror. Bring the crackers.

 

Horror wasn’t the driving force to my movie watching ways back in the day, but it was definitely a factor. I watched movies, period, and was happy to do so. When the VCR became an affordable venture and mom and pop video stores started to run rental deals to lure you away from the new chain stores cropping up, this led to countless hours spent wandering the stacks and being overcome by the wonderment of the
gruesome scenes depicted in ink upon the old cardboard canvases that was the VHS box. More than anything, it was the artwork that lured me in every time. They say never judge a book by its cover but that is what I did. If the cover looked amazing, I had to see the movie.

U.S. Stamps Honor Twilight Zone and Others

Classic_stamps The Twilight Zone and Alfred Hitchcock Presents, appear on one of 20 first-class stamps released by the U.S. Post Office, featuring 1950’s hit television shows. The stamps include images of Dragnet, The Ed Sullivan Show, The Honeymooners, I Love Lucy, Lassie, The Lone Ranger, Ozzie and Harriet, Howdy Doody, and Perry Mason.

(Don’t miss the Edgar Allan Poe 200th birthday commemorative stamp either.)

Here’s the press info on the classic TV series:

One of America’s most revered canines was among 20 television icons
that came out of retirement today to be honored on the U.S. Postal
Service’s Early TV Memories 44-cent commemorative First-Class stamp
sheet. Lassie participated in the first-day-of-issue dedication
ceremony that took place at the Academy of Television Arts and Sciences
in North Hollywood.

Available nationwide today, all 50 million stamps, available in sheets of 20, commemorate Adventures of Ozzie & Harriet; Alfred Hitchcock Presents; The Dinah Shore Show; Dragnet; The Ed Sullivan Show; The George Burns & Gracie Allen Show; Hopalong Cassidy; The Honeymooners; Howdy Doody; I Love Lucy; Kukla, Fran and Ollie; Lassie; The Lone Ranger; Perry Mason; The Phil Silvers Show; The Red Skelton Show; Texaco Star Theater; The Tonight Show; The Twilight Zone; and, You Bet Your Life.

“All of the classic television shows represented on these stamps represents the collective memory of a generation well deserving of entertainment,” said U.S. Postal Service Board of Governor member James C. Miller III in dedicating the stamps. “It was a generation that survived the Great Depression and fought World War II. They were pioneers — creative geniuses — who brought television shows of the 1950’s into our homes, breaking new ground to provide entertainment for everyone.”

Joining Miller in dedicating the stamps were Steve Allen’s wife, Jayne Meadows Allen; actor, director and comedian Carl Reiner, who emceed the event; and Academy of Television Arts and Sciences Chairman John Shaffner.

Art director Carl Herrman of North Las Vegas, NV, designed the stamps and worked with twenty2product, a San Francisco-based studio, to give the archival photos used in the stamp art a suitably “retro” look.

Meet the Horror Bloggers:
Billy Loves Stu

Pax Romano Many fans of horror, amateur and professional alike, have devoted themselves to blogging about the thrills, chills, and no-frills side of the genre as seen in cinema and print. In this ongoing series that highlights the writers behind the blogs, we meet the unique
personalities and talents that make the online horror scene so engaging. Up close and personal.

In this installment, League of Tana Tea Drinkers’ member Michael Petrucelli of Billy Loves Stu looks for the gay and lesbian subtexts in horror movies as well as the ‘straight’ scares.

 

My love of horror began at a tender age. As a kid I was exposed to the classic Universal horror films Dracula, Frankenstein, etc) by my father. When these movies came on the television, he’d call me over and we’d watch together in the small living room of our row house in South Philadelphia. Often, my dad would add to the flavor of the films by talking like the characters, he did (and still does) a terrific Bela Lugosi as well as Boris Karloff. Later on, well after the movie had ended, he’d come into my room as I was preparing for bed, and freak me out by telling me that he was in the basement earlier and found machines that were probably once used to create a monster, or that he thought our next door neighbor was a vampire (our next door neighbor, Mr.Calabrese worked nights). Needless to say, I was mortified – and yet at the same time, I was fascinated. Many sleepless nights ensued (and I always kept my eyes peeled for Mr. Calabrese), but I never turned down an invitation to watch a scary movie with my dad.

There was this old movie theater a few blocks from where I grew up, you know, one of
those palatial houses with marble arches and velvet curtains; and on the weekends, they’d show triple feature horror films, usually something from Hammer studios in England. Often, they would also incorporate a “spook show” between films (which was usually some poor usher made up like a low-rent werewolf walking up and down the aisles of the movie house) and give out prizes for those “brave enough” to make it through the afternoon of horrors. Over time, I accumulated dozens of cheesy door prizes that I displayed as
proudly as some kids did with their baseball trophies.

Meet the Horror Bloggers:
Uranium Cafe

Bill Courtney Many fans of horror, amateur and professional alike, have devoted themselves to blogging about the thrills, chills, and no-frills side of the genre as seen in cinema and print. In this ongoing series that highlights the writers behind the blogs, we meet the unique personalities and talents that make the online horror scene so engaging. Up close and personal.

In this installment, League of Tana Tea Drinkers’ member Bill Courtney of the Uranium Cafe describes the influences, the places, and the challenges for keeping his love of horror and cult movies alive.

 

As a kid I was lucky enough to have a dad who was not the least bit interested in watching sports on TV over the weekends. He loved movies and comic books. This was in the 60’s and I grew up on a healthy diet of classic films, TV, and Marvel and DC comics. We had a b/w TV set with rabbit ears and basically three channels to choose programs from. Later, PBS would come along but who the hell ever really watched that. I grew up watching a variety of programs that included weekly showings of Sword and Sandal films, serial Westerns, and of course classic horror and sci-fi features.

A couple films I recall as being really shocking to me are actually pretty tame fare by today’s standards. One was The Mummy with Boris Karloff and in particular the scene where he suddenly rises up and peers into the camera. The other film, also with Karloff, was called Die, Monster, Die! And I recall being terrified to death, and dad telling me it was just a movie and it was all make believe. I would soon be saving up my lunch money from school and going to the local grocery stores and buying loads of comics and Warren Magazines. At the most I would save up two or three bucks but back then Famous Monsters of Filmland was .35 or .50 and I could get six or so comics for a dollar. Matinees were cheap and I remember watching more Spaghetti Westerns and B-horror movies than I can recall.

The Collector (2009)
Have Trunk Will Travel

The collector

Zombos Says: Good

At the end of The Collector I felt cheated. I cannot tell you why as that would give the ending away. But here is a clue; in Sabotage, Alfred Hitchcock regretted blowing up the bus. While he wanted the audience to feel uncomfortable from the buildup of tension between the boy, the bus, and the bomb ticking away, he felt he cheated the audience by blowing up the bus, killing the boy and everyone on it. In a word, his payoff for putting the audience through the wringer was negative, not positive. Hitchcock realized he let his audience down: no one wanted to see the bomb go off after all that suspense.

In combining Cube-like lethal traps with a hint of Saw-styled ingenuity and malice, and yet another relentless masked-slasher victimizing a family in unsavory, bloodily grisly ways, Marcus Dunstan and Patrick Melton (Feast) do their darnedest to pulverize the audience with fears of helplessness, torture, and death. They almost succeed, but choose to blow up the bus by going the usual horror franchise-building byway at the end with a negative payoff. In their case, however, the bomb takes the form of a trunk for the one he always takes.

lucky survivor and continue on his bizarre journey to perdition (and potentially a hot franchise). He also likes to devise fiendish traps and set them throughout the house, though I am not sure why since he ties up his victims before he sets his don’t-step-in-the-bear traps, don’t-pick-up-the-phone traps, don’t-step-in-the-glue-on-the-floor-because-it-burns-like-acid traps, don’t-walk-into-the-razor-wire-strung-across doorway traps, and don’t-go-near-the-window traps. Where he finds the energy and time to build all these devilish traps I do not know, but if he devoted it to stamp and coin collecting, even comic books, he would be awesome.

The uncomfortable–for us–increasing tension begins with the unexpected intrusion of an ex-convict looking to pay off his ex-wife’s loan shark debt before midnight. His wife and daughter’s lives depend on him completing his heist. While opening the safe, Arkin (Josh Stewart) hears screams and goes to investigate. After he realizes what is happening, he tries to help, but the Collector’s traps are demoralizing and painful, and the people he tries to save do not trust him and are crazed from fear and pain, making them loud and unmanageable. The house is isolated, of course, so he needs to quickly make a decision whether to save them or himself.

He tries to leave and realizes he is also trapped in the house. How he narrowly escapes the Collector’s traps while trying to evade capture, make the midnight deadline and save both families, including the little girl he had a tea-party with earlier that day, keeps his feet in motion, his breathing heavy, and his situation changing from unpleasant to bloody-hell messy unpleasant. Images of spiders and bugs crawl through the movie, and in one tender moment–for the Collector–the masked maniac lovingly frees a spider from the house into the yard. A thunderstorm provides classic gloom, and there is a gruesomely poetic revelation of a web-like trap, illuminated briefly from a flash of lightning, just before Arkin stumbles into it.

The dilemma facing Arkin, to save both families or his own skin, is something not often seen in horror movie fare. It provides a catalyst for audience involvement that goes beyond vicarious body-count watching. When the Collector goes after the little girl, forcing Arkin to make difficult choices between physical safety and his conscience, it made me root for this home team to hit a home run.

But all Dunstan and Melton can do is get stranded at first base. They dote on the bloody-hell messy parts of the movie, replacing most of the suspense with typical–for a psycho-butcher-torturer movie–outcomes. Closeup views of lip sewing, chisel to teeth, shears poised to snip a pliers-held tongue, carving a roast without the roast, and, really, just about every dire torture-gore situation and its outcome we now anticipate due to their overuse is here in lavish closeup. It is stylish, it is done well, but it has all been done before.

So, I felt cheated. But I also felt like double-checking the doors before I went to bed, too.

Warning to cat lover’s; don’t see this movie. For dog lovers who like drool-dripping, snarling and snapping hounds on chain leashes, this one’s for you.

Interview With The Sleeping Deep’s J. B. Palmer

The Sleeping Deep Jeffrey Blake Palmer’s Lovecraftianesque The Sleeping Deep screenplay is winning a lot of film festival awards these days. Before his head swells bigger than a blowfish–what with all those kudos and attention–I thought it best to snatch him away from his busy schedule and lock him in the closet for a bit, until he answered a few questions about his work and his inspirations.

 

Tell us about the young monsterkid who grew up to be Jeffrey Blake Palmer.

Ooohh, perhaps my mother would be better suited to answer that question…

FADE IN:

I was born and grew up in the quaint New England mill town of Dover, New Hampshire, which I would later capture on film in my feature On the Fringe. It was idyllic, charming, safe. I was fond of dismantling anything electronic (radios in particular), doodling in my notebooks, goofing off around the neighborhood. Seems I was always lost in thought, my head cluttered with artsy-fartsy ideas all vying for attention. Definitely was a bit of a daydreamer. But I never terrorized the neighbors’ pets, only my younger brother.

I do have fond memories of spending Saturday afternoons during the summer watching Creature Double Feature on Channel 56 in our cool basement entertainment room. Man, those were the days.

Where does your ambition to film and script movies come from?

I think my ambition really boils down to embracing an artful life. Film and filmmaking is a collaboration and combination of so many disciplines, from composing musical scores to special effects to acting, costume design, writing… it’s truly a celebration of the spice in life.

The deal was sealed when I stumbled onto a film class in college and was surrounded by freaks, nerds, weirdos and misfits. I immediately decided to pursue a film degree at Keene State College, a small state school in south-western New Hampshire and I’ve been at it since.

Meet the Horror Bloggers:
Freddy In Space

Johnny Boots Many fans of horror, amateur and professional alike, have devoted themselves to blogging about the thrills, chills, and no-frills side of the genre as seen in cinema and print. In this ongoing series that highlights the writers behind the blogs, we meet the unique personalities and talents that make the online horror scene so engaging. Up close and personal.

In this installment, blogger Johnny Boots of Freddy In Space reminds us of when colorful VHS tapes ruled the shelves, and all the straight to shelf DVD crap crowding the shelves today was only a twinkle in a lucrative genre’s eyes.

My earliest horror memories pretty much all revolve around one character; Freddy Krueger. I have many fond memories of watching the Nightmare on Elm
Street
movies with my mom when I was probably far too young to be watching a burnt-faced razor-gloved man in a Christmas sweater slice and dice horny young sleeping teens. But that was my childhood and I cherish it to this day. Thankfully none of the movies ended up damaging me too bad, although I know some people that would disagree with that…

I can remember going into Blockbuster, what seemed like several times a week, and perusing the selection of sun faded horror VHS tapes, tapes I still hold on to and collect. My eyes would inevitably always end up on the section of flicks adorned with the image of Freddy Krueger and I would actually try and convince myself that I hadn’t seen all of ‘his’ movies yet. I knew deep down that I had, and several times over a piece at that, but I wanted so badly to believe that one day a new Freddy adventure would magically pop up on the shelf. Sadly, it wouldn’t be till many many years later that my wish actually came true. And you better believe that in 2003 when Freddy vs Jason came out, say what you want about the movie, it made me feel like that little creepy antisocial Freddy loving kid again, albeit in a much less appealing Blockbuster environment. That’s what it’s all about for me.

I guess it’s kinda strange that horror movies remind me of my childhood, perhaps more than anything else, but it’s nevertheless the truth and it’s one of the main reasons I have had and will always have such a love for the genre in my heart. I thank my parents for allowing me to watch those kinds of movies at such a young age and I will certainly allow my future children the same privilege. Contrary to popular belief, horror movies don’t create bad people; they just entertain good people.

Freddy In Space, that story is very similar. It was while I was in that very same Blockbuster, the one that now sells books and t-shirts and anything else it can push to try and stay in business, that the idea of creating a little corner on the internet to share my thoughts on the genre came to be. I went over to the horror section and was shocked at what I saw. Not only was it relegated to a tiny sub-section of the action shelf, but it was stocked with nothing but new age direct to DVD crap, movies that are nothing but total rip offs of classics I grew up loving. Gone were the massive rows of hundreds of beautifully drawn cover arts, gems just waiting to be discovered. This is what was left of my childhood. All I had left were memories. So I decided to take to the internet and create a place where I could share all those great memories with anyone who would listen. And it seemed only fitting that that place would have the name Freddy in the title.

And in case you’re wondering what Freddy In Space means, it’s a symbol of the horror genre not being what it used to be. I’ve always said that if Freddy were ever sent to outer space it would be the ultimate sacrilege and the end of the horror genre. Thankfully, it has not happened yet and until it does, the horror genre will still be alive and kickin’ and I’ll still be taking to my blog to talk about it.