I had the displeasure of watching Paranormal Activity last night and, as expected, it was a pile of wank.

I’m not a great fan of ghosts and demons anyway – real life murder and gore scares me much more – and I thought Blair Witch was two hours of my life I’ll never get back. Utter, utter non-scary garbage.

So, this film started badly – shaky camera and a leading lady with as much charm and charisma as a walnut. After half an hour nothing remotely scary had happened – unless you think a moving door is scary. I don’t. It was actually more comedy than thriller, the main guy cracked a few jokes now and then and made me laugh out loud.

I liked that he made fun of his girlfriend who was seemingly being stalked by a demon, and was determined to find the cause of it all. He wasn’t laughing by the end of the film though!

Seriously, if a demon was stalking you and you discovered that you’d get out of bed in the middle of the night and stand and stare at your sleeping boyfriend for…wait for it… three or four hours!!!!, wouldn’t you be totally freaked out? Filming themselves sleeping the pair discovered that the girlf has some strange night-time tendancies which she has no memory of, but she’s not all that freaked out by it and just comes across as a regular moody bitch who likes sniping at her man.

Even when she said she was upset I didn’t believe her one bit. And the things that happened could so easily have been staged. I’ve no idea if this is supposed to be real or not but there are some seriously arty camera angles which suggest it wasn’t made by amateurs. Funny how they always capture the good stuff on camera huh? And if you heard someone walking up the stairs would your first instinct really be to grab the camera? I don’t think so.

Spoiler alert!

Okay, so the end is a bit freaky, but still totally set up. It’s night-time and the couple are asleep in bed. She goes downstairs and you hear her scream. He wakes up and dashes to his girlf’s aid, this time not taking the camera with him. Silence. She returns upstairs, walking like a zombie, with a knife in hand and red stuff all over her white vest. Why do people only kill others when they’re wearing white? Then she sits at the foot of the bed and rocks backwards and forwards for almost 24 hours – right in front of the video camera (how convenient) until the police come round and shoot her dead. Great.

Utter rubbish, don’t bother watching it. Ghostbusters is much scarier!

Fair disclosure: This post deals with some personal stuff, and those who are looking for daily snark, fun, and observations may be either disappointed or TMI’d. Or both. I really wrestled with putting it up here but I’m both trying to be brave and hiding it on what I anticipate will be a low-readership day. Read at your own risk.

I’ve been struggling lately with fear. I like to be a “tough guy”, to feel like I can do it all myself, like I can go into any situation and come out unscathed. I like to feel safe. And for the most part I’ve been able to construct a life for myself where, by and large, I do. I’ve learned to walk like I know where I’m going, even when I’m completely lost. I’ve present an air of confidence even when my shoes are filling up with sweat. I take on undoable tasks with aplomb, ready to roll up my sleeves and figure out how to get it done. I’m learning, slowly, that sometimes true strength is in vulnerability, and am getting better about asking for help, support, and encouragement. Want to know more? Below the jump.

But still, I carry with me a fear of men, and more specifically, being the object of male sexuality. I’ve not had to do a lot of work on this over the past 10-12 years, but rather, had constructed a life filled with mostly women and gay men. But the world is changing – gender and partners and identities and bodies are more fluid than ever before, “Women’s Spaces” are grappling about how to accommodate trans folks, and I’m finding that this fear is coming up in my body in a way it hasn’t before. I feel like it’s holding me back, like I’m making decisions about where I’ll go and with whom based on fear, and I’m unhappy with that. So I’m taking it on.

So. Why am I afraid of male sexuality? I think it’s because I’ve had too many experiences where I’ve been clearly in the “friend” camp with a guy, and for whatever reason they’ve seen an “opportunity” to try to kiss or grope. While I’ve dated women who were sexually coercive, the relationship already had a sexual dynamic. I’ve never had a female friend, of any sexual orientation, suddenly shove their tongue in my mouth at a bar, or roll on top of me while watching a movie, or follow up a statement like “I really value your friendship” by coming in for a kiss. And frighteningly, most of these young men didn’t really think there was anything wrong with this, though they were upset that they had upset me. Clearly, there is some cultural pressure at work, where boys are supposed to push and girls are supposed to say no.

Last week, I checked my email and found an article about men raping women they know, but not considering it rape, and an article about sex and gender in kinky play spaces both in my inbox, emailed to me by two different friends. I guess that’s the sum of my conflict – I want to be open to anyone and anything, and feel like my fear makes me bail out of too much intimacy with cisgender men. And then last night, I was watching Family Guy, which contained this scene:

INT. AUDITORIUM – DAY (CUTAWAY)
A room full of FRESHMEN watch a movie on a screen.

WOMAN ON MOVIE SCREEN
Hi, I’m Kelly McGillis and I’m here to talk to you about rape. Ladies, look to your left. Now look to your right. Statistics indicate that both of those men will rape you.

ANGLE ON a COLLEGE GIRL sitting between two GUYS. She looks nervously at them.

GUY #1
I’m not gonna rape you.

GUY #2
I might.

Hilarious, right? Maybe in that “it’s funny ’cause it’s true” way. Or maybe not.

Anyway, I’m trying to let go of my fear, to make choices based on what I want, not what I’m afraid of. And I’m looking for ways to release the fear that lives in my body. Yoga’s not enough, so I’m thinking of trying Rosen Bodywork. I would love to hear if anyone else has had experiences with letting go of fear and trauma in your body, and what worked for you.

This is my latest painting. It is painted in water soluble graphite and acrylic on canvas. Size 120cm x 160cm. Originally a small sketch, it was called ‘The Damned’. I would like to find a better name so if anyone out there has a suitable suggestion I would be most pleased to hear it. The painting is for sale (contact me on info@artist-gavinmayhew.co.uk for price) or prints from A4 to A2 sizes are available.

the face of the Devil

Terrorists attacked several locations in Mumbai, India, in November 2008, exactly one year ago. According to Wikipedia, “the 2008 Mumbai attacks were more than ten coordinated shooting and bombing attacks across Mumbai, India’s largest city, by Islamic extremists from Pakistan.”

This is a Q&A with someone who was there, a mixed-race Anglo-Indian British man.

Source: Reddit

I was in India for a wedding. My own wedding, actually. I was due to get married a couple of days later.

What happened in the Taj that night, was the most terrifying experience of my life. Yet, I was one of the lucky ones that got out alive when rescued by commandos the next morning, after a very heavy firefight.

Your experience sounds terrifying, how did it start? Were you in a room or with others, What was your first move? Was your wife with you / were you able to speak to her on the outside if not?

I actually wasn’t staying at the Taj. Me and some friends had decided to go there for dinner, as it housed some of the top restaurants in Mumbai. We had been having a fun evening – lots of laughing and joking. There was a great atmosphere, and the service was impeccable as expected.

We were about to order dessert. My mother was also with us, and she decided to head out to the WC. A minute later we heard a series of bangs. Everyone went silent, and then a few chuckles… “it must be just fireworks, don’t worry”. It actually did sounds like firecrackers. But then we heard them again, this time closer – much closer. Unmistakable this time. It was gunfire. The restaurant manager shouted “everyone get down”. We were already on the floor. Everyone was silent, on the ground of the restaurant. We could see the figures going past the opaque windows of the restaurant, in the hallway. More gunfire. I would later find out, from TV, that they had gone in to the restaurant on the opposite side of the hallway and opened fire.

People started to panic, and there were murmurs about whether we should break the windows which led out on to the harbour, to get out. But before there was time, the staff opened the kitchen door and ushered everyone through. From there we took a series of passageways, and ended up setting up in a few different rooms, before later meeting up with 150 or so other guests in a larger room called the Chambers, which must have been where the staff were trained to lead people in an emergency. As I said, my mother had walked out from the restaurant, into the hallway, a minute before the shooting started. I feared the worst when I couldn’t’ get through to her on the cellphone. I later found out that she went into the WC and a moment later the shooting started. The bathroom attendant opened a cupboard a shoved my mother and another lady in to it, locking it shut. About 40 minutes later she was to be found by police and led out to safety, past the carnage that had occurred a while earlier in the lobby.

In answer to your other question – my fiancée was not with us. I am so glad that she wasn’t. I’m not sure what crazy stuff I would have attempted to keep her safe. I was later able to speak to her on the phone. She was upbeat – the 24hr news channels hadn’t really picked up on the story yet, and so she just assumed that the police would bring things under control pretty soon. After that, as things got worse, i couldn’t make calls because everyone was trying to be silent in the rooms we hid in. However we were in touch by text message. I still have them all saved, and I’m sure you can imagine the kinds of words that were exchanged. I just felt so upset that I was about to die, two days before I had the chance to marry this wonderful woman.

Was there any stage where you thought “this is it, I’m gonna die”?

Yes, absolutely.

A couple of hours after the attack started, we were trying to get away from the terrorists, running through kitchens and corridors etc. The staff started to lead a lot of the guests to a single room, called the Chambers. People came here from all over this massive hotel, so the staff must have had this as a predetermined assembly point in case of emergency.

For a while then, many people thought we were safe. At this point it still wasn’t even clear that it was a terrorist attack. People were talking about it was probably local gangs. As for myself, I had an impending sense of dread. I can’t even describe it. It was like I knew there was more to it and that things were definitely not over.

So, anyway we were camped out in this place and then apparently an Indian Minister who was in the same room, got on the phone to an Indian news station. Perhaps in the madness of the moment he revealed where we all were. After that, word started to get around to everyone (by phone, text etc from family outside) that our location was all over the news. The attackers must know where we are.

So, the staff decided that we should attempt an exit. They were to lead the way through a series of kitchens and passageways. Everyone formed a disorderly queue and then started to head through the kitchen. Then bang, bang, bang. The sound of automatic gun fire. Those in front were being shot. Everyone turned around and stampeded back to the Chambers. The staff stayed outside and locked the doors. The police must have been heading to the same point because then there was a long firefight outside the room. Guns and grenades was all we could hear, for what seemed like ages. It was at this point that I felt “this is it”. The people in the room were deathly silent. Everyone lying on the floor, under tables and chairs, huddled together. It was clear that everyone was thinking the same thing… any minute know they’re going to break through the door and shoot us all, or just a single grenade would do the trick.

I can’t even describe the feeling.

Don’t end your account there, what happened next?

Well after things continued like that for the whole night. There would be periods of dead silence and then BOOM, a grenade would go off nearby. The floor would shake. Some gunfire. People in the room would whimper for a while and then silence again. I also remember feeling cold… very cold and shivering. Not sure if the temperature had dropped or if I was just shit scared.

Me and I think a lot of other people almost drifted off – not quite to sleep, but to a state of acceptance where you try to numb yourself from what’s going on around you. Every new explosion send a jolt through me, and I’d lie there (half under a table and my head under a sofa!) thinking this is it, the time has come, don’t scream just accept it. I have never been particularly religious, but at that time I thing everyone in the room, myself included, was praying to god. What else can you do?

As I said, this continued for a few hours – we would hear gunfighting and then explosions, and then nothing. In the middle of the night there was an almighty explosion. I later understood that the terrorists had been setting fire to different parts of the hotel. A while later smoke was washing through into the room we were in. There was nothing we could do – go out and be shot or stay inside and be consumed.

As dawn broke, there had been silence for a while. People had started to become restless and were getting up from their lying positions to stretch, or go pee in a plant pot or in bottles (you never think about toilet arrangements during a terrorist attack!).

By then, the commandos had obviously arrived and were battling the terrorists. A while later, they came through to us – actually I think someone unlocked the door for them. I remember people whispering around the room – there are men with guns tapping at the door. Should we open it? I remember thinking, “no” don’t open the fucking door! As it turned out, they were commandos…

How did others that you were with handle the situation compared to you?

Very few people were hysterical, but different people certainly handled events in different ways. Early on in the night, for example, before things got serious (i.e. before the terrorists explicitly knew where we had gone) the situation was actually pretty surreal. The staff had donned their white gloves and were handing out drinks on silver trays. The Brits (obviously the Brits) were sat around tables drinking sherry and obviously trying not to flap at the situation – probably thinking well if it happens then it happens, but we’re not going to let it ruin our evening or our demeanour!

A lot of others were gossiping about what might be going on – was it gangs, was it terrorists. Bear in mind that most people in this hotel were rich and/or influential, so they were on the phone a lot with people outside trying to get information. Some were rescheduling meetings or changing flight plans. Little did they know what was about to kick off!

Other Europeans were obviously struggling to keep up with the Hindi/English news reports on the TV and the gossip in the room. However, the TV was soon cut off to the building and then after the first major attack on our position the mood changed entirely. After that it was lights off and huddled on the ground in dead silence. You could hear people murmuring prayers, or the low level lights of mobile phones as people texted family. At this point everyone knew how serious it was and how important to stay quiet, so no one became outwardly hysterical.

What was your reaction when you saw the commandos arrived and extracted you and the others?

Dead scared actually, because I didn’t know (or couldn’t believe) that they were commandos. It’s almost like I didn’t want to think “thank god, we’re safe” until I was 100% certain that it was all over.

The commandos came in to get us, but the terrorists were still in the hotel, regrouping I expect. So the commandos were in a rush to lead us through a route they had secured.

However, even when we got outside the hotel, it was still heads down – it’s not over till its over. They pulled up some buses, but as people were getting in, the terrorists starting firing out of the windows at the buses, so we all ran back to the hotel, which was pretty crazy. The next buses pulled up closer to us, before rushing us off to a large police station. Even at the police station, I could still not believe it was over. I knew that terrorists had attacked several locations around the city, so I still half expected them to storm the police station at any moment.

To be honest, I didn’t really feel relief until I left India!

Paranormal Activity is one of the best horror films I have seen on the screens after a while. It is definitly worth a watch if you are looking for some exciting thrill.

Shot in the same way as the Blair Witch Project was made, Paranormal Activity builds up the fear with a sense of realism that will leave you petrified.

The first  half hour may seem rather slow as we explore the day-to-day life of this couple. They have a big house, are happily loving each other and experience fears when they hear unusual sounds in the night. However, this slow build-up serves to make us comfortable with this pair of characters. We can even start to identify with them as all of us might have experienced these sort of fears at one point in our lives.

The tension never stops to increase throughout the movie. In fact, the last scenes are the most frightening ones. They leave you wondering if you can ever get home after the show and sleep peacefully.

This film proves once again that the best scare can come from the lowest budget films. I agree with Michael Dequina who wrote: “Fun, creepy, unpretentious little haunted house rides like these are so hard to come by these days that slight overpraise is understandable.”

The holidays are around the corner and advertisements are now seen and heard everywhere – on radios, TV and online. Therefore, I decided to discuss about advertisements and marketing in North America. Yes, in North America, I noticed that the advertisements are not the same as what I grew up with. The ads here are intended to scare people into action. So, here is my rant about advertisements from my point of view.

Ethiopian Ads
Growing up in Ethiopia, I really enjoyed watching advertisements on TV. For instance, I remember a Pepsi commercial featuring Pele, the greatest soccer player of all time. We would watch the slow motion kick of Pele and how he enjoyed drinking Pepsi after the game. I and all my friends consumed so many bottles of Pepsi during our teens, just to imitate Pele. Yes, the ad worked for Pepsi. It was innocent – kids and grown ups fell for it.

Radio Talk Shows
The scary thing is, it seems that many people are unable or unwilling to draw the distinction between entertainment and information, and for them talk radio shows become less about entertainment and more about providing them insight. The type of insight which is based upon rumor, falsehoods, distortions and flat out lies. The type of insight which makes me question the true intelligence of the common man. The type of insight, which reaffirms my belief that the ignorant and the uneducated are easily influenced by those who are adept at preying upon fear.

I admit that if I’m near a radio, I will sometimes tune to talk radio to be entertained … but that is where it stops. I admit and recognize that talk radio exists for one true purpose, and that purpose is to entertain rather than inform. If you want to be informed you can listen to the news, if you want to be entertained (and you aren’t particularly interested in sports), you have talk radio.

On talk radio shows, you can hear how they believe one political party is the source of all that is evil and how if you don’t vote for the other party your children and grandchildren will be those that suffer. Time after time, after time, if you toss aside all of the fluff and excess, when you objectively look at any given subject you will find the basis is nothing other than fear. The pundits know if they can scare the listener, that listener will keep coming back for more.

Fear, Fear and Fear
Because when you really boil it all down, that is what it is all about … fear. You can listen to the programs themselves and hear about how a certain disease (say H1N1) or a specific government program are going to ruin our way of life.

Nowhere is this concept more obvious than the one time you would expect the theme of fear to be absent. I’m talking about the commercial breaks in between segments, and if you take some time to actually listen, you will soon discover that the advertisers have found a niche market, and that niche involves the concept of fear.

Millions upon millions of dollars in advertising are spent every year, and it is very obvious that those marketing firms know the true demographic listening to talk radio at any given point is one built upon fear – thus they cater to, and profit from, that demographic.

Don’t believe me? Take a look at the list below of some of the advertisements presented during the commercial breaks of talk radio shows and TV programs.

• Alarm Force – appealing to the fear of burglary or home invasion.

• Tax Planning – appeals to the fear of Revenue Canada “stealing” money or leaving a person destitute.

• Various Gold Investing Firms – preying upon the loss of net worth in the stock market and retirement plans. Also suggests the apocalyptic scenario where paper money holds no value.

• Law Firms specializing in Personal Injury Lawsuits – Appeals to the fear that surviving family members might not be taken care of in the case of severe disability or *gasp* death. Also appeals the desire to hold someone or something else accountable for anything bad which might happen in one’s life.

• Life Insurance – again this appeals to the fear that loved ones won’t be financially secure if the primary bread winner is no longer around to provide.

• Carbonite Online Backup Software – appeals to the fear that a computer will crash resulting in the loss of financial data, vital documents, or irreplaceable files, photos etc.; encouraging people to sign up for their services.

• Medications – appeals to the fear that health problems (namely cancer) will end a life prematurely.

• Debt Management and Debt Collections services – appeals to the fear that ‘evil’ corporations will take all of a persons earnings leaving them with nothing.

• Legal Will – appeals to the fear that a person will die without a proper will or living trust being established. Also appeals to the fear the government will seize assets leaving surviving family members with nothing.

• Performance Enhancers for Men – making older men fear that they won`t be able to do it when the time is ready for action

• Financial Institutions – scaring people by saying … “in this economy” … in every sentence

So, as you can see, between disaster coverage, legal services, and various forms of self protection services, all of these products have one thing in common. They all appeal to some level of fear.

Now, if this were only a small percentage of the ads or if I cherry picked these ads over a period of two or three months, it might not be all that indicative of a larger issue, but the fact is every single one of these advertisements were heard within 90 minutes of talk radio. Not 90 days, not 90 hours – but 90 minutes. On other days, you might be able to hear the same ads or slight variations of them time and time again, and there were very few other ads that weren’t based in some way upon fear.

On the radio, I never heard a commercial about cleaning products, toothpaste, tea, coffee, gasoline or shampoo.

Conclusion
Time and time again, day after day, the vast majority of ads I ever hear pertain to fear, and the only logical conclusion that can be reached is that advertisers know the target core demographic that tunes into talk radio on a daily basis is scared. They might be scared about their finances or scared about their health or scared about the government, about home security, or maybe just scared about common sense or logic – but in some way these people are scared.

So, if the advertisers know it, doesn’t it make sense that the talk radio hosts know it as well? Don’t kid yourself – they know it, they count on it, and they prey upon it… that much is certain. So, maybe the next time you hear someone quote something direct from the mouth of a talk radio host, you should ask yourself … what are they afraid of?

Yes, I now think that you agree with me that fear sells!

My next blog entry will be on Thursday December 03, 2009.

Mullkam Samint!

Aww, not another blog. Yeah I know, I’ll stop posting so goddamn often after this, I swear. I just wanted to write a teeny, tiny review thing after seeing a movie I never actually thought I’d bother going to see.
A wee word of warning: possible spoilers!

Ok, what’s the genre most likely to let down at the end of the movie? The kind that has this horrific or predictable anti-climax? And unnecessary violence, brutality and sexism for no reason other than for entertainment value? I speak of course, of the Hollywood horror movie.

Now we’ve finished throwing up, let me continue.

Paranormal Activity was, actually, and to my surprise (the good kind), none of these. There wasn’t sexism or horrible gory scenes, in fact we don’t even get to see the menace. Usually after watching stupid Hollywood slasher/horror type movies, I storm off to the angry dome, muttering and grumbling about everything that made me mad in the film. But after seeing Paranormal Activity, I was a bit creeped out (but not terrified), but I also had fun talking about it with friends afterwards. Even though it was creepy, I actually enjoyed the film itself, which is rare for a movie that gives you a few wee jumps.

I think the secret is this: the director is not American. No offense to you guys over in the states, but most Hollywood directors are, in the grand tradition, attention-seekers. “Ooh, let’s see how much torture porn we can shove in there” and “explosions aren’t big enough. Let’s have Bruce Willis absailing down a lift shaft with three seconds to save the world (ie, probably either in the form of New York city or the white house) from total annihilation, while saving a baby in his arms and shooting at the baddies who are somewhere above him. With more explosions.” The horror movies are even worse for reasons I have already specified.

Paranormal Activity begins uneventfully enough: here is Katie and Micah and they’re your average couple from 2006, she’s a student and he’s…in a job I forgot. “Engaged to be engaged”, and kind of boring. But Micah, as you probably know, is setting up video cameras in their house, Blair-Witch style (yeah I know, don’t let that put you off though) to catch some of the weird goings-on in the place. Katie’s been plagued by bad dreams and weird visions since she was eight, and since then they’ve been coming back in phases every few years or so. Captured on camera is the usual doors slamming, scary footprints (three toes… eew) and spooky noises. There is a gradual build-up of tension and suspense – what is scary is the fact that we are scared of the unknown: a dark corridor, or what might be behind the shower curtain or reflected in their huge mirrors. When something does happen, it’s not enough to give your eyeballs heart-attacks, but it’s jumpy and creepy, since it suggests that even in the safety of your own bedroom, it’s not necessarily… well, safe.

So it was creepy. But I actually enjoyed it. Whether or not any of you will, I don’t know, and I don’t care that much (unless I know you ), but I would say it’s probably worth seeing. I was satisfied with it, although on edge for the whole time. If you’re easily scared, you’ll probably like this, seeing as it’s certainly not nightmare-inducing, and if you hate gore and blood then there’s only a small squiffy of it, and it is necessary as part of the story’s development. The characters were, in my opinion, believable (improvised script and all that) and there were no stupid lines like there are in total Hollywood horrors, like, “Imma kill this mothafucker” and then their head explodes during their futile attempts.

Soooo yeah I liked it. The only thing was, despite rambling on and on about how it was only creepy, not scary, I admit I was a wee bit freaked out about going to sleep. But nothing that Castle in the Sky wouldn’t fix

I was with Chris in our local shopping centre. We were meeting up with his mom because we had said we’d look after his little brother for the day. He seemed really happy to see us but Chris’ mom didn’t look well. She looked like she was quite ill. We brought Chris’ little brother into a big department store where everyone liked to hang out.

Chris had to go to the toilet so it was just me and his little brother. But then he said he needed to go to the toilet too. He ran off to the bathrooms and I realised I shouldn’t just wait for him to come back, I should wait outside the toilets. I legged it up to the toilets like it was an emergency or something and I was out of breath when I got there.

I met a girl who I used to go to school with but we’d had a fight and hadn’t spoken in years. She was wearing our uniform from work so I asked her had she gotten a job in the cinema. She started going on and on about it and how much she loved it and how great it was that we’d be working together and so on. I couldn’t get away from her but when I finally did, both Chris’ brother was back from the toilet and hadn’t noticed me standing outside.

This is where it gets kind of disturbing. I went to join Chris’ brother back in the main part of the shop. He was sitting on the ground with his arms around his knees looking really really scared. It was clear something had happened but I didn’t know what. I ran up to him and when I reached him I found out that these guys who were sitting behind him had poured something on him, like oil but I’m not sure what exactly it was. I picked him up and held him in my arms while absolutely screaming at the guys. Chris came up at this point and told me to leave them as cleaning up his brother was the priority. I knew he was right so we took him back to the bathrooms.

The dream skips a bit then because the next bit has me meeting Chris on his break from work. It looked more like McDonald’s than a cinema though. I had bought chocolate nuggets (and spent ages picking them out) to share with him on his break. Our manager and another worker were standing beside us though so I offered some chocolate to them. Chris made a face at me as if to say I was sucking up to the manager so I stuck my tongue out at him. Our manager took some chocolate but the other woman said she had gone off chocolate ever since she had gotten a bad box of it one Christmas. I think that was the end of it.

I was so frightened for Chris’ brother, I woke up feeling horrible. I guess even though it was just a dream I felt responsible for it.

Dreamer xxx

The following is a post in a discussion I found on WiccanTogether by a user named Faxon.  I had to put it here.. I would have posted a link but I know that some would not take the time to sign up so they can read it.

Before we can comprehend the future we must first attempt to understand the past. In this discussion I will attempt to do just that. I will begin with commonly asked questions and go from there.
What do we know of the Witches mysterious origins? Who were the real women behind the myth? Who are these people with super extraordinary powers? Why were Witches tortured and burned at the stake during the middle ages? How did the the belief begin that Witches could fly? How did a child’s game spark the tragedy of the Salem Witch Trials? And why, despite the Witches fearsome legacy are thousands again practicing the ancient arts of Witchcraft? These are just some of the questions the human community has been asking for a long time. Could it be the Witches are the reminiscence of long lost Goddess figures of incredible power that brought life and death?

~~~BEGINNINGS~~

The Witch: Sorceress. Enchantress. The devil’s consort. A fearsome being of fairy-tell and myth she has haunted the human consciousness for thousands of years. She remains a chilling spectre that captives the human imagination and continues to baffle us with her mysteries.
Perhaps no figure in mythological legend has been so despised and feared as the Witch. Over centuries the image of the Witch has under gone a strange transformation. In ancient Scandinavia, Freya, Goddess of prophecy soared through the heavens in a chariot. In Greek mythology the Witch was as beautiful as she was deadly. The sorceress, Circe, enchanted Ulysses sailors with her magickal brew of honey wine then with a touch of her magickal wand she turned each man into a pig. Even earlier in Hebrew tradition a woman named, Lilith, her red hair streaming, slipped into unprotected homes preying on newborns and stealing man’s seed.
Being a Witch was probably the worst thing you could have been accused of being because in the accusers eyes you practiced cannibalistic infanticide, you practiced promiscuous sex and danced around naked. Basically you were considered the nightmare of society. All this seems rather strange ideologies considering how in the earliest beginnings the concept of Witches was of a magickal being who possessed super natural powers and were not considered a source of evil. On the contrary- some scholars trace the origins back to ancient deities who were both benign and powerful. Witches have been around for as long as the human community has been trying to advert diseases and disaster. Witches may have very well developed from early Goddess cults according to a large popular belief shared by many who have researched various available records.
Goddess figures found by archaeologists- some dating back twenty thousand years, were revered for their magickal ability to enhance fertility and nurture the land. We’re talking about peoples who depended on the earth for sustenance, on the cycles of seasons, and on the reproduction capabilities of the land. So,those associations of these natural forces with the female body and therefore the identification of the female as sacred makes perfect sense. All powerful procreation deities, they held sway over the forces of the universe. For thousands of years the creation Goddess was honoured as the all powerful divine force. She was known by many names. In ancient Mesoptamia she was called, Nin-anna, the Queen of the Heavens. In Egypt the predominate civilization of the ancient world referred to her as Isis. In the land of Canaan she was, Asherah. All of them were supreme Goddesses who presided over the sacred forces of life and death and worshiped by those who relied on the earth’s fertility for their survival. Not only did the ancients worship female deities, but through out the middle-east often those who practiced the holiest of rituals were woman. Could these Priestesses trained in the sacred arts have been the earliest antecedents of the Witch? Over the centuries these Priestesses came to be known as the ‘Wise Woman’. These women made house-calls, they removed impurity, they took off sorcery, they cured babies and cured impenitence just to name a few of their contributions. From their rituals sprang forth the sacred ceremonies which would later become known as ‘Witchcraft’.
What supernatural powers did these so-called ‘Wise Women’ possess? Accounts from ancient Turkey describe how the ‘Wise Woman’ would sit in a sacred circle drawn with salt to recite their magickal incantations. Their ritual objects were simple but they were believed to possess awesome powers of healing and protection. What’s so puzzling is that they were clearly seen as positive figures in their society. No King could be without their council, no army could recover from a defeat without their ritual activities, no baby could be born without their presence.
The question fascinates the scholars- How did the begin image of the ‘Wise Woman’ become transformed into the malevolent figure of the Witch? Some scholars believe the answer may lie in the events which took place three millennium before the birth of Christ. In this turbulent time tribes of nomads known as the Indo-Europeans invaded the Western world from the East. They were a warrior people who brought with them a strong belief in their male sky Gods of war. Over the centuries the belief in their male sky Gods would come to dominate the once mighty female deities.
One of the things we see in the development of religions is that very often Goddesses start out in very prominent rolls and are gradually demoted. You can actually see their names moving down on the list the scribes are copying over and over and over again. Some scholars believe that when the Hebrews (worshippers of one God) settled in the land of Canaan around thirteen hundred B.C.E. they perpetuated this male dominated version of their own creation story. Some believe that in the bibical story of creation, Eve, is the mortal version of the earlier Goddess, Asherha. In the Garden of Eden it is Eve who bears the responsibility of the fall of all humanity. And the sacred tree and the snake, once being symbols of the earlier Goddess culture, become something both dangerous and forbidden.
Obeying the laws of the Bible the Hebrews condemned Witchcraft as a pagan practice thus banning it from the land of Canaan (‘Let no one be found among you who practice divination, sorcery, interprets omens, engages in Witchcraft or consults the dead.’ – Deut.9:10). Strangely, despite this prohibition one of the most mysterious stories in the Bible describes a magickal encounter between a bibical King and a Witch! This story is set in a period when King Saul is locked in a ferocious battle with the Israelites formidable enemy the Philistines. On the eve of the fateful battle of Gilboa a troubled King Saul seeks out a forbidden sorceress hoping she may call up a spirit who can council him from beyond the grave. It’s a fascinating story because Saul has already banished all the Witches from the land. And yet, when push comes to shove, he’s showing up at the local ‘Wise Woman’s’ house to get the skinny on the upcoming battle. ( ‘Then Saul said unto his servants, “Seek me a woman that hath a familiar spirit that I may go to her and acquire of her.” And his servants said to him, “Behold! There is a woman that has a familiar spirit at Endor.”- 1 Samuel 28:07). King Saul visits the Witch in the village of Endor on the outskirts of Nazareth. He asks her to summon the Prophet Samuel from the dead so that he may receive Samuel’s wisdom before the battle. The Witch obeys the Kings’ request. She digs a ritual pit and does a little sacrifice and sure enough she brings up the ghost of Samuel the Prophet from the land of the dead. Tragically the ghost only has ominous news for the troubled King. The spectre of Samuel predicts that Saul will die in battle. On the next day Samuels’ terrible prophesy of doom is fulfilled.
Why does the Bible, while forbidding Witchcraft, contain the story of a revered King visiting a Witch in his time of need? That is a question that continues to remain unanswered to this day.

~~SABBATH of the WITCHES~~

In the fourteenth century all of Europe was over run by a mysterious plague known as the Black Death. As the scourge swept across the land whole villages were decimated. In all of Europe one in every three would perish. With the onset of the Black Death came hysteria, the fear that an inescapable evil had descended upon the land. With this fear came the belief that this misfortune was the work of the devil himself. Throughout Europe the church established a tribunal known as the Inquisition to root out all religious heretics feared of the dangerous accomplices of the devil-. a belief in the fourteenth century. One form of heresy was judged to be especially malevolent. Witchcraft is defined as the most heinous of all forms of heresy because it is when you sell your soul to the devil that puts not just the individual, not just the church at risk, it put all of society at risk. Spawned by the growing panic the image of the Witch became magnified by the popular imagination into terrifying reality.
In the hysteria of the time many believed that Witches possessed the powers of flight. Surprisingly as early as the sixteenth century scholars suspected there might be a medical reason why those that practiced Witchcraft believed they could fly. One German physician of the time, Johaan Bayer (1572-March.7,1625) suggested the fantasies of flight were actually a result of Witches anointing themselves with a hallucinogenic drug called Datura. Also adding to the concept of Witches being able to fly is suggested by some that many in the pagan religion(s) during that era were seen jumping up and down while holding pitchforks and similar implements during their celebration rituals performed during the spring equinox, praising their Goddess, showing her how high to grow the freshly planted crops. It was only a matter of time before these sightings were misconstrued and the Witch viewed as being able to fly which fueled the rumors that the Witches were actually flying to their nocturnal gatherings known as Sabbaths.
The imagery of the Witches Sabbath engaging in prohibited sexual activity had a fascinating appeal to the people of that time. Especially when we consider that celibacy and control of sexual impulse has always been considered the appropriate expression of christian behaviour.
In 1486 a book was written to assist the Witch hunters in the grim task of identifying and prosecuting the accused. The work was entitled the ‘Mallevs Maleficarvm’ (or the ‘Hammer Against Witches’). Written by two Dominican monks in Germany, Jacob Sprenger and Heinrich Kramer, the Mallevs expressed a prevailing belief of the time that women were sexually vulnerable beings- easy prey for the devil (‘What else is a woman but a foe to friendship? They are evil, vain and lustful. All Witchcraft comes from carnal lust which is in women insatiable’ // The Mallevs Maleficarvn).
Although there have been Witch hunting manuals before the Mallevs Maleficarvm it was actually Jacob Sprenger and Heinrich Kramer who linked lust and the particular condition of the women’s bodies to demonology and Witchcraft. It’s very specific and incredibly detailed- How do you know Witches? How do you target them? For example, you never begin by asking someone ‘Are you a Witch?’. You ask them, ‘When did you become a Witch?’ The main purpose of the Mallevs was systematically to refute arguments claiming that Witchcraft does not exist, refute those who expressed skepticism about its reality, to prove that witches were more often women than men, and to educate magistrates on the procedures that could find them out and convict them.
For two hundred years the lurid descriptions of the Mallevs Maleficarvn would serve zealous Witch hunters. Ironically this book of intolerance and persecution was in it’s own times second to the bible in popularity. The victims of the persecution this manual helped to inspire were often the people who were doing the most to help their community. When villagers felt they had been harmed magickally or they felt they were victims of Witchcraft there was a natural tendency to suspect that women were the Witches who had harmed them. And that probably is because women performed functions that were very, very closely associated with magick. After all- the women were the cooks,, they were the mid-wife and many were adept in the use of herbs for healing. Ironically it was these exact skills that made them objects of suspicion. For if these women could heal with potions and herbs could they not also do unspeakable harm as well? There are cases for example where a mid-wife had been practicing with apparently great success for fifteen, twenty, even thirty years and suddenly she is accused of Witchcraft and killing babies at the behest of Satan. Out of the wood work now comes people she has delivered children with for a generation who suddenly say she’s in fact guilty.
Why were friends and family members so quick to accuse the innocent? It is a question which baffles historians to this day. And still… the worst is yet to come! Fueled by intense fear and hatred the flames of the Inquisition seemed unquenchable. Soon thousands would be snared in a web of terror and betrayal. Once the accused were arrested the true horror began.

~~THE BURNING TIMES~~

By the end of the 1600’s throughout Europe the hunting hysteria had reached it’s peak. Thousands were arrested and brought before the inquisitor for examination. Under the brutal scrutiny the accused were stripped and searched. They were prodded mercilessly with needles to find the mark of the devil. For the examiner any suspicious wart, mole or birthmark could be enough to condemn someone to death. Once evidence was found a confession was required for it was against the law to execute a Witch without one. The practice of torture, which had been banned for centuries, was revived to extract it. Some of the most horrendous and in some ways sophisticated methods of pain manipulation was indeed invented during this time. Tortures that are really too horrific almost for us to imagine and any human being surviving through were now an every day occurrence. Even the whole phrase, ‘ The third degree’, can be traced back to this medieval period and it was ‘The third degree’ that killed the accused. Instruments such as thumb screws, leg screws, head clamps and the Iron Maiden owe it’s origins to this time and all were designed to inflict unbearable pain. To determine quilt or innocence the English also devised a method known as ‘Swimming the Witches’ in which if the accused floated she was judged guilty and condemned to be hung. On the other hand- if she sank and drowned she was presumed innocent. Either way she was doomed.
Even under torture the Witch was viewed as highly dangerous. The Mallevs Maleficarvn warned never to look a Witch in the eye for fear of her evil powers because if you did so you might have compassion for her. In the manual it said this was her casting a spell on you. What this means is basically there was no room left once you were accused to change the mind of the torturer. It was under these brutal conditions Witches indeed confessed to the most heinous crimes in attempt to curb the intense pain inflicted upon them. For thousands of others in Europe death came by fire. But why this method of execution? Scholars believe it was thought only when the Witch’s body had been reduced to ashes all her evil sorcery would truly be destroyed.
On the fateful day the accused would be packed into a wagon and paraded through narrow cobble stone streets to the village square. There the accused Witch was bond to the stake. Records show that on a single day in one village square in Germany one hundred thirty-nine alleged Witches were burned to death. The town historian noted that the place of execution looked like a small forest fire from the number of stakes. For two-hundred years known as The Burning Times witch hunts erupted like sporadic wild fires across Europe. The worst persecutions would take place in the rural villages of France and Germany. There, under interrogation and torture, suspects were forced to surrender the names of their neighbors.
Why did the the fury of the hunts escalate so rapidly? Consider the question being thrown at the accused- ‘Who did you practice with?’ ‘Who else was involved in your rituals?’ If you torture someone enough they will surely give you the answers you want to hear, and so begins the escalating circle. Eventually the torturers were armed with dozens, if not hundreds of names as a result of one or two women originally being identified as being Witches.
Perhaps no town in the sixteenth century captured the horror of The Burning Times more shockingly than Wurzburg, Germany. It was there the over zealous magistrates decided that almost the entire town was possessed by the devil. They condemned six-hundred people to death. Nineteen priest, forty-one were children. There were towns, in Germany in particular, where there were no women left after the inquisitors came through. Everyone was killed.
When the fires had finely smoldered into ashes exactly just how many people perished will continue to remain unsolved. Scholars estimates range from sixty-thousand to three-hundred thousand victims and although The Burning Times in Europe started to die out by the late 1600’s the Witch hunting frenzy would spread to the New World.

~~GALLOWS HILL~~

In the strange and terrible history of the Witch perhaps no incident is more startling or more hotly debated then an event which took place in an obscure village in Massachusetts. It’s a phenomenon which still haunts scholars with it’s unanswered questions.
During the Salem Witch Trials of 1692 in a few terror filled months nearly two-hundred people would be condemned. Fourteen women and five men would be hung on Salem’s Gallows Hill. How did the Salem Witch hunt of 1692 begin and why here?
The settlement of Salem was named after the holy city of Jerusalem but here the Puritans found no land of milk and honey. Salem had endured twenty years of Indian wars. It was racked by internal pressures, land disputes and deep religious divisions tore at the struggling community. Though the Puritans clung to their strict religion it offered little comfort. ‘Internal damnation’ was ever a present threat and the world of demons seemed as hard as the New England soil. People living in the seventeenth century tended to believe that most things could be explained supernaturally. If you stumped your toe, if your cow fell sick, or if your food went rotten before it should… these were just a few reasons that would become the driving force for folks of that time to question if it had a supernatural explanation.
Strangely enough some scholars believe the Witch hysteria of 1692 began in the home of a Puritan Minister, the Reverend Samuel Parris. The event which sparked the ensuring terror was a child’s game! It started when the Reverend Parris’ daughter ,Elizabeth (age 9), and his niece ,Abigail Williams (age 11), were playing a game with their household Caribbean slave, Tituba. Using a primitive method of scrying the children used a glass of water which inside contained the contents of a broken raw egg. They would gaze into it and ask a a question hoping images would come out or appear in the water. During one of the experiments one of these girls believed that instead of seeing perhaps the features of a wealthy attractive future husband she saw instead a coffin. Seized by apparitions of death the girls were soon thrown into convulsions. Within days nine other girls in Salem were simultaneously stricken with the same affliction. Under pressure from Reverend Parris the girls revealed the names of three witches they said caused their possession. Tituba, Sara Good (a poor beggar woman) and Sara Osborne (a widow rumoured to have had an illicit affair with one of her servants). All these were outsiders in the community and easy targets for suspicion.
What motivated the girls to make their astonishing accusations and what was the source of their possession is still up for discussion. Among the scores of hypotheses towards solving the questions are two explanations- One is they were experiencing some kind of psychological malady and the other explanation is that they were being deliberately deceptive, practicing some kind of fraud. It may have been atleast on the part of the young girls claiming to have been bewitched a real form of social release. They were so tightly controlled and their status in patriarchal Puritan households were so marginal that this was a way of becoming the center of attention.
Although it may seem incredible in modern times the accusations made by the possessed girls in Salem were taken seriously by the local authorities. They set up a tribunal to investigate the charges. What compelled the local magistrates to convene their extraordinary trials? Some scholars believe that the trials may have concealed a political agenda. One common explanation has been that the parents and relatives of the girls used the accusations as a way to attack their enemies. It’s extremely striking that most of the accusers came from one side of the political dispute and most of the accused came from the other.
Sparked by the Salem trials the hysteria spread to twenty-four surrounding villages. By September 1692 the jails overflowed with nearly two-hundred accused individuals. Twenty-seven were found guilty and nineteen were hanged. After execution their bodies were forbidden a proper christian burial were left to rot in the open air on Salem’s Gallows Hill.
Why did the Witch trials finally end? Some believe the trials ended quickly because the Witch hunters accused one victim too many- the wife of the Governor of Massachusetts. With the power structure of New England seemingly threatened the leaders saw too it that trials were abruptly stopped. What ultimately brought the terrors of The Burning Times in the New and Old World to an end continues to be debated. Some believe the advent of science may be the decisive factor. Perhaps society moved away from this fear of the supernatural and unexplainable when science began to unraval questions like why their cow fell sick, and why their food spoiled at a faster rate than normal.

~~REBIRTH~~

Over hundreds of years with the rise of science the fearsome image of the Witch gradually faded. By the early twentieth century the dreaded sorceress was reduced to the outrageous Halloween Witch of popular culture. In our own time there’s been a dramatic rebirth of the ancient arts of Witchcraft. An estimated five-hundred thousand men and women in the United States and Europe have dedicated themselves to following the path of the Witch. This number continues to grow at a very high rate. After so many centuries of persecution why would anyone choose to be called a Witch and what sparked the modern revival? One would have to trace this rebirth back to the astonishing work of a young British anthropologist named, Margaret Alice Murray (July.13,1863 – November.13,1963). In her controversial book ‘The Witch-Cult in Western Europe’ published in 1921, Murray presented a startling theory. She insisted that in European history Witchcraft had not been an obscure cult but a dominate religious force. She argued that the Witches who were persecuted in fifteenth, sixteenth and seventeenth centuries were actually the practitioners of a pagan religion. She went on to claim it was the main popular religion of that time throughout the land. Murray’s romantic vision of a powerful cult of Witches was soon discredited by historians but her new book sparked a renewed fascination. By the mid twentieth century modern Witchcraft had become the spiritual path of thousands of believers. This new path was soon to be called ‘Wicca” from an old Anglo-Saxon word meaning ‘Craft of the Wise’.

Back in Russia….

This next one is a bunch of Chavs. The British equivalent to “white trash”.

I’m all for new and innovative technology, but the new Google Wave format scares the crap out of me. The concept is great: a real-time multi-person interactive document and media sharing platform, where everyone can chat and collaborate on projects. Beta-testing is currently underway, with invitations flying and everyone getting super excited. Sounds like a great thing, no? The next Twitter or Facebook?

Not so fast, progress!  How does this work, and what’s happening to the information we’re producing?

“complete threads of multimedia messages (blips) are perpetually stored on a central server”

So it can work so fast because you’re keeping a copy on your fancy Google servers in California, but what do you mean by “perpetually”? A further perusal of the FAQ page on the Google Wave website brings up the following disturbing passage:

“Any Waves which have other participants will to continue to exist in the Google Wave system, including all of the content that you provided in those Waves. Any Wave for which you are the only participant will be deleted from the system within 60 days and may remain in our offline backup systems.”

What!??! So you’re keeping a copy of everything we say, do, or create not only so long as we’re working on it, but even after we exit/delete the “Wave”? That sounds pretty fishy. Who’s going to be able to see/use our info? Is it only for use with the Google Wave, or even just Google itself?

There are only certain limited circumstances when Google allows access to your information. We may give access to:

• Subsidiaries or other trusted businesses that help us provide our services to you (we make sure they promise to keep your data private);
• Law enforcement or others when we believe we are required to do so by law;
• Others as necessary to enforce the Terms of Service or our policies, to protect against harm to Google or others, or to prevent or address fraud, security or technical issues.

So basically businesses get to see and use our information – which Google can keep forever – as long as they help Google provide services? What sort of services? Wait, isn’t the way Google provides all of its free services through Ad sales? Does this mean Ad agencies will have access to our information? Also, what about intellectual property? If I’m going over the draft of an academic journal article I’m writing, and you get to keep a copy of it, what does that entail for me trying to publish it? Or what if I’m an inventor and I’m going over schematics with a colleague? You get to keep a copy forever? Why???

Also “Law enforcement or others when we believe we are required to do so by law” – and since the Patriot Act is still in effect, you’ll be sharing our information to anyone with a badge, with or without a warrant, I assume?

Overall, these policies freak me out. I may or may not get Google Wave, but If I do I sure won’t put anything I want to keep ownership of on it, including pictures or academic work. And I sure won’t be saying anything of a sensitive nature or any personally identifying information.

:/

One of the hazards of working sets is the occasional unfortunate eyeful, so to speak.

For many years, grips and electricians have loved to wear really baggy shorts – usually of the cargo variety – to work sans underpants. Which, of course, is fine if you like a breeze around your unmentionables (and who am I to say that’s wrong?), but sometimes all of us have to climb a ladder.

Normally, when one climbs a ladder on set to mess with or hang a light one is leaning out over the side of the ladder, thus throwing the load off-center, so one requires assistance in the form of a co-worker ‘footing’ said ladder, which is basically just standing on one of the lower rungs to add some weight to prevent tip-over (which is funny, but usually ends very badly).

The hazards of footing a ladder can include getting tools dropped on one’s head, getting smacked in the face by an overthrown cable (which then swings back towards the thrower and raises one hell of a welt on anyone who happens to be in the way), and looking up at a co-worker who happens to be going commando in a pair of billowy shorts or worse, a kilt.

Lately there has been a dramatic increase in the number of guys wearing kilts to work with no underwear – don’t ask me why. They usually wear Utilikilts, but the end result is the same. A dude in a dress with the family jewels swinging in the breeze. Look up at your own risk*.

I’m not sure which is worse – the shorts, where everything’s squished into one leg so it looks like chewed gum or the kilt, where everything’s got room to swing around for easier viewing by unfortunate colleagues.

When I get the inevitable view I usually loudly mention something about a rash that needs immediate medical attention, but today we were on set and there were important people milling about, so there was nothing I could do other than try really hard not to look up, which made taking the unwieldy Kino Flo from my underpantless colleague much more difficult.

And guys? They really all do look the same. Trust me on this one.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! Enjoy your meal.

*Unfortunately, sometimes one has no choice but to look up – such as handing up a light, or a tool (stop snickering. I’m referring to a wrench), or tape, or being handed something that’s coming down out of the rig.

Special thanks to Jak ( for the subs ) and Ethen for the upload. Thai Horror 2008 . This movie will scare you from the second you step inside the movie theatre..

It will get you wondering if Something or Someone might be waiting for you to let your guard down. The horror movie that you just saw is about to happen to you in real life! Coming Soon….

Watch full movie:

Click

http://www.asian-horror-movies.com/coming-soon.php

I’ve watched the movie, very nice movie. Very scary movie, not dragging, unexpected twist. One of the best asian horror movie I have watched.

Rich loves them. I HATE them. And everyone says “Why!!??!!” and people who know me think that I will love them, what with my love for heavy metal and the likes. Naturally the two do go together. But I can’t stand them and here’s why:

1. I DON’T LIKE TO BE SCARED. The number one hatred of scary films for me is the tension. The ominous music, the camera being in the wrong place so you can’t see behind someone, the dark. I don’t like it, and as soon as these thing start happening in films, I hid, cover my ears or both.
2. THEY GIVE ME NIGHTMARES. The best time to watch a scary film is in the dark at night. WHY!! This is when the scary things in the film could become reality. I end up walking around my house looking for them like a retard. Or I have nightmares about them.
3. The rubbish ones are all the same. Yes, this has been done to death in the “Scream” films but it is true. There is usually always a tense moment where the character in shot is suspicious,  gets tapped on the shoulder and it turns out to be their friend. Also, there is always the bit where they walk through doors, keep their eyes on the handle and effectively enter the room backwards. DUHHHH! And finally they generally contain stupid, semi-ugly actresses. Fact.

I am sure there are other reasons. But the number one for me is I don’t like to be scared. I don’t like it when balloons pop. I don’t like sudden loud noises. I don’t like it when I walk around a corner and there is someone there.

Poor Rich, he loves horror films but I have yet to watch one with him. I can honestly say I have only enjoyed one horror film – the Omen! I loved that film, it was creepy and eerie. But I wouldn’t watch it again because I don’t like the bit where Mrs Thorn is in hospital after being pushed off the balcony by Damien and she is trying to take her top off with broken arms and that evil nurse lady pushes her out the window. Or when Gregory Peck shaves Damien’s head to reveal the 666. Or when the go to the graveyard. Or, thinking about it, any of it.

On Monday night, the Grudge (2004 US version) was on TV. We had the sound muted and I was still scared. Creepy little demon children!!! We had to turn that off.

“Urban Legends” was on Channel 5 last week too. That was truly shit and included many of the things in point 3 (see above). What is the point of these films?

I don’t want to watch any of the “Saw” films because I have no desire to see people sawing their legs off or having to find a key in someone’s body so their jaw clamp doesn’t bust their head open (Rich has told me this, I haven’t seen it). Why would anyone want to see that. Sadists!

I can’t think of anything more to write at the moment because I am scared.

It’s almost December gentle reader, I guess I should think about putting together a best of year list, perhaps a wrap-up that is complemented with a best of the noughties post as the first decade of the 21st century draws to its close. I thought living in the 21st century was supposed to be all teleportation devices, interstellar travel and disintegration beams? Pah, real life fails to live up to its expectations once again, at least you know where you stand with the movies. I’ve got quite a full agenda for the rest of the year, three movies booked, one of them I’m seeing on its opening day in IMAX then with friends during a welcome visit a few days later, I should have also wrapped up my assignment at Southwark which means I can luxuriate for a couple of months before thinking about what to do next. Oh, and I have one of the most anticipated NFT events I’ve ever attended to look forward to, it could be quite the crowning achievement of a decade of film-talks, previews and interviews that I’ve enjoyed over the past ten years at the South Bank. Anyway enough of this speculation, you want to know if I’m sleeping with the lights on tonight don’t you?

As much as I relished the prospect of enjoying one of my last big releases of the year in a cinema full of teenage girls (a-hem) I opted to see the alleged ‘scariest film ever‘ and coincidently ‘most profitable film ever’ ($15,000 budget against over $100 million in domestic takings alone) tonight, you have to admire the chutzpah of those Hollywood marketing gurus. In the contemporary genre de rigour ‘found footage’ format we meet the young professional Micah in a gloomy San Diego, his girlfriend Katie has been suffering visions of a malevolent spirit watching over her when she sleeps. Plagued by nightmares which is stressing their relationship Katie hesitantly agrees to let Micah film them as they sleep, an exercise designed to provoke the rational aspect of Katie’s intellect to reject such an absurd notion and overcome her paralytic condition. When the footage that emerges presents something seriously amiss, events that cannot be explained rationally, Katie hesitantly reveals that this is not the first time this has happened to her….

The film has been extraordinarily hyped, achieving favourable comparisons in terms of style, effect and marketing savvy with The Blair Witch Project which terrified film-goers a decade ago, can it match the outrageous expectations of fan-boys such moi? Well, yes, its pretty god-damn freaky, more an exercise in  sheer technique than anything else, like Blair Witch events become progressively worse as the visitations occur, a palpable sense of dread emerging as the daytime footage bleeds into the nightmarishly murky witching hours. Debut director Oren Peli cleverly sets up the frame to crucially show what is happening outside the room, beyond the characters field of vision, not to mention playing on the terrifying thought of something interfering with you as you sleep, when you’re totally helpless, totally prone. Paranormal Activity plays not just on instinctive human fear of something unexplained, a threat in the dark but also something infecting your safe boundaries, in your home, something  essentially other. The fact that people in the audience were freaking out when I saw it (most amusingly two guys behind me were hugging their girlfriends and muttering ‘its just a movie….its just a movie..’) means that you have to see this at the cinema, in the dark, with others.

In terms of references away from Blair Witch then this is the closest approximation I can muster, apparently the final shot of Paranormal Activity has been re-done from a suggestion by Spielberg, having just checked the original finale out I have to say he was probably right.  Next up on this type of movie is The House Of The Devil which has been getting praise for its Seventies derived, Polanski inspired atmosphere, it looks pretty good but anyone stupid enough to spend the night in Tom Noonan’s house deserves to die. Oh yeah, and the fact I’m blogging this from my parents, from their cosy, well lit and populated flat as opposed to my cold, empty, isolated place is just a  fucking coincidence OK? OK….

This guy, Matt Roberts, was adopted.

As he got older, he became curious as to who his real father might be. After a lot of research, he discovered that this was him:

That’s Charles Manson. Yes, the mass-murder who has been in prison since the 70’s and will never get out.

Source: Read Full Story Here

Photographed by Moi of Ra

These guys were kind of scary and had covered themselves in yellow palm oil.

– License

At first glance, the world does not appear to be such a scary place. Through the eyes of adolescence, it almost seems easy. It’s like playing house…no big deal, right? Only when that blindfold of naivety is removed does the truth become apparent. Then, everything changes because, once lost, the playfully blind innocence of childhood can never be rekindled. It dies with unexpected abruptness and is then gone forever. This is the beginning of life as the rest of us know it. This is the bullet on the Grand Timeline marked as “Trial and Error”. Lessons are learned, hearts are broken and mended again, guidelines are set for future  reference, and one discovers the true meaning of self-love. For me, this was quite literally the most difficult portion of my life thus far. To be only 20 years of age, I have seen and done and experienced more already than most people will in their entire lifetime. This is my story, with nothing added nor taken away. This is who I am, and how I came to be the person sitting in this quiet room, typing away the tears and fears. I do not know what inspired me to write this today, nor do I question it. All I know…is to obey it. Here goes.

To be continued.

Ocean Eyes

I always wake up to the 5 a.m. waves. The sound of them splashing against the rocks by the Murder Dive Cliffs is a peaceful yet scary sound. The Murder Dive Cliffs is where the high school kids jump off from to a world pool of water. It is the scariest yet coolest thing ever. It was the cool spot for all the high school students of Aquatica High. That was until that horrific day in October when six students died and 3 others acquired life changing injuries. They closed off the pathway to the Murder Dive Cliffs and nobody knows exactly what happened but me. I know the secret of the man that came from beneath the ocean.  The memory of him seems so vague now in my mind; it’s like he never existed-just like he said it would happen.

It was my senior year at Aquatica High and I was hoping something exciting would happen for once in this ghastly town. Aquatica would seem like a beautiful place to live but when you hear the stories of all the bad things that happened here you’d run for the hills. People disappear or turn up dead here. There is an abundance of unsolved cases that go back 100 years.  My brother had this theory that there was a monster in the water that took anybody who jumped off the Murder Dive Cliffs.

“I’m serious Jenna. I read in a book about Aquatica that a lot of people had witnessed something taking people under when they jumped off those Murder Dive Cliffs.” My brother said to me.

“Really, Brandon, you actually believe that crap? A sea monster is terrorizing Aquatica. Don’t be silly.” I said. I mean sea monsters only exist in fiction stories and on Syfy TV.  They aren’t real.

“Ok, so let’s jump at night then.” Brandon suggested to me. People who had jumped at night from the Murder Dive Cliffs never came back up. They vanished under those unforgiving dark waters to the uncertainty that is the ocean.

“Fine, but you owe me ten bucks if no ‘sea monster’ takes me under.” I told Brandon.

“You’re on!” Brandon yelled. I had jumped from those cliffs hundreds of times before but for some reason today I had this sick feeling in my stomach. We hooked up with some of my brother’s friend at the climb. It was a cold summer night in August and I was wearing a grey thin sweater with my swim suit underneath and my billabong board shorts.  As we walked up the steep pathway I felt like my heart was going to beat out my chest. My brother looked at me and saw the crazed expression on my face.

“You scared, Jenna?” Brandon asked me

“No. Be ready to fork over those ten bucks.” I responded.

“Dude, you still spreading that hocus pocus crap about sea monsters? My man I love you but you’re crazy.” Nick said to Brandon. Nick has been my brother’s best friend since kindergarten. Couldn’t believe I was spending my day with sophomores. All my friends went to the Benton Cabin at Ruder Lakes.  The Benton Cabin was a senior favorite because it was the infamous “make-out cabin.” Specifically why my parents didn’t let me go; so I got stuck with my brother and his friends jumping off Murder Dive Cliffs.

The cliffs aren’t that scary-they are actually quite beautiful. The view is amazing. I love the water because it is teal in color but tonight they were tar black and menacing.  The waves are a killer though so you must be a good swimmer if you dare to jump these cliffs. The rocks are so soft; almost marble like. However, they are very slippery so you have to grasp at them with your feet so that you don’t fall to your death, hence the name, Murder Dive Cliffs. As we drew closer that sick scary feeling was still tormenting me but I just shook it off.

“We’re here!” Brandon yelled. There were warning signs everywhere. “Unsafe grounds”, “Dangerous”, “Don’t Jump these cliffs”, “Death precedes you if you jump.”  So many have jumped off these cliffs; some have come out with major bragging rights and others aren’t so lucky. I was the first girl in Aquatica to jump these cliffs. My jump was so sick. I even jumped from the highest point on the cliff and did a triple twirl in mid-air. It was my freshmen year and I wanted to be cool. After that, I was so in with the guys at surf practice.

“So, Jenna, are you going to jump or just stand there?” Brandon said to me with a smirk on his face.

“Relax, dude. I’m just warming up.” I responded. Truth is, I was scared but wasn’t really sure why. Maybe because I never jumped these cliffs at night. There was a storm coming and the waves were rough. I climbed higher to the mid-level of the cliff. It’s pretty high; about 15 feet. I counted to three as Brandon and his friends cheered and yelled for me to jump.

“Jump, Jenna, Jump!”  I heard them taunt. I took of my sweater then took a few steps back.  I made for it and sprint for the edge but I slipped, hit my head on the edge, and fell down into the black pit of water. I thought for sure that I was a goner. The water was so cold and it was overwhelming. It engulfed me and I couldn’t get to the surface. I kept on sinking deeper and deeper. Suddenly, I felt something grab by right arm and pull me up. It wasn’t Brandon or Nick or any of Brandon’s friends. It was a man but not quite. He didn’t have legs but a fish tail. His hair was long and glowing red. I was hypnotized by his eyes. They were changing color as he lifted me up towards the surface. One second they were red; the next second they were glowing green. When we got to the surface he slid back down and I got one last look at his fiery red eyes.  I was about to say thank you but he disappeared into the dark waters.

“Jenna, are you okay?!” I heard Brandon scream. I turned to see him and the other guys swim towards me.

“We saw you slip and hit your head” Nick yelled.

“I thought I lost you” Brandon said when he got to me. He gave me a bear hug.

“I did hit my head. I thought I was a goner down there but this man saved me” I said.

“What man? We didn’t see any man.” Brandon said.

“It wasn’t actually a man. He had a fish tail and red glowing hair and multi-color eyes.” I said breathlessly. Brandon and his friends erupted in laughter.

“Are you telling us that you were just saved by a merman?” Nick asked me.

“I know it sounds crazy but that’s what I saw,” I said. Then to all our surprise the merman jumped out the water and for a split second we all got a view of his fish-like body. He looked at us then disappeared again under the dark waters. The boys screamed.

It’s probably nothing, but it scared the shit out of me. I stayed at my friend’s sister’s house on Sunday. Sarah’s housemate thought it would be fun to scare me.

At the bottom of the road where Sarah’s house is, there’s another road that runs across it. Alongside it is a cemetery. One night, one of Sarah’s friends, Andy was walking along there. Two kids, one younger than the other, approached him. They were dressed in bright hoodies. Instead of feeling apprehensive, Andy felt totally at ease. The two kids stopped him and told him they were lost and asked if he would be able to help them find their way. Andy agreed, but told them he’d only be able to take them so far.

I’ve been told, that if you look on google, this happens all over the world; two children, one older than the other, both in bright clothing. They always ask permission before they walk with or enter the homes of who they meet. It is always the same, you never notice their eyes until they have gotten away.

We drove along that road, that evening and saw nothing, but I think I can safely say, I have a new found fear of people in reflective jackets.

Hey All, this year I decided to write a Thanksgiving story.  And while I intended to write a feel good moral story about appreciating what you have, something else entirely came out (in true Free Stories fashion).  I will endeavor to write another Thanksgiving story for Thanksgiving day, but for now, enjoy this bloody ode to feasts and celebrations!

I killed him after slicing the turkey.  One swift rake across the jugular and thick globs of red squirted all over the stuffing and cranberry sauce.  His jaw dropped, and his face immediately paled.  He gasped.  After long long seconds he gasped again and then reached at me with splayed fingers, his wide eyes glaring at me with malice.  The fingers of his claw like hand curled into an accusing finger which pointed at me before shaking wildly.  The flabby ball of his torso struggled to remain erect and began shaking also.  Finally, he gasped one last time and slumped forward, landing his pale fat face in the thick slice of pumpkin pie he had stubbornly insisted on eating first.

With the evening’s daunting task completed, I sat down.  I touched my face and realized I was grinning madly, my lips frozen in a sort of snarl.  I felt a ball of energy swelling in my chest and realized I was holding my breath.  I barked a laugh.  I stopped.  Was that appropriate? I wondered.  I laughed again.  I let it roll out of my chest.  Waves of laughter rolled out of my frozen lips and flooded the table, lapping at the edges of the still warm dinner rolls and the steaming turkey.

“Oh God,” I moaned when the laughter finally left me, “thank you.”

I decided not to eat.  Instead, I wrapped my thickest cloak about me and pulled out the sled.  After positioning the long planks of the sled by the dinner table, I heaved that dead body onto it and dragged it out the front door.  With a crackling torch in one hand, and the sled’s reins in the other, I plodded through the snowy woods.  The menacing crunch of my boots on the snow, the long shivering shadows and the needle thin fingers of the branches did not frighten me, nor did the wolf howls that seemed to grow closer and closer.  Good, I thought, hopefully they can smell the blood.

Upon reaching the clearing, I set to work cleaving the body into smaller pieces and scattering them in a circle.  In the middle of the circle lay the pyre of dry wood I’d been accumulating all year.  I poured oil on it and used my torch to set it ablaze.  ”Come!”  I shouted, and the wolves howled.  ”Come and eat your fill!”

In the middle of the scattered body parts I stood waiting all night.  The wolves came and I watched them creep at the edges of the light, snatching up the body parts in hungry, slobbering jaws.  But before they did, each one lowered its head, as if in thanks.