Halloween will be here on Saturday and I have a few creepy and crawly things
to offer you between now and then.
If you are not a horror flick fan, I’m so sorry.
This short clip is from ‘An American Werewolf in London’, a film by Jon Landis.
The clip is pure Landis with musical soundtrack, graphic manipulation of human flesh and all.
At the time it was state of the art.
Still looks pretty damn cool today, methinks.
Check it out.
Oh, and . . .  Booo!

Slice to 0pen, staple to close
the mar00n red smear of a greasepaint smile, a calling card in cumulonimbus,
pregnant with dark water

Black crack, skies 0pen
0pen eyes close
an inc0mprehensible and maniacal palette of colour; in whites, greens, blacks and reds
a primary psych0tic mind in full fundamental whack
as the world begins to hem0rrhage innuend0

No way 0ut, dead end streets
rain falls like shattering glass
n0thing makes sense in this n0nsensical w0rld
c0nfusing time with the present, time with the past

Tomorr0w draws its shades, a sullen and squalid twist
his brain cells turning to a darkened shade of 0chre
Slice to 0pen, staple to cl0se
to the NetherWorld goes the J0ker . . .

“I think I may be beginning to disappear.” – Fiona (Away from Her)

Last night was a deeply emotional night for me.
For the longest time I’ve put off watching a movie called Away from Her
based on the Alice Munro short story called, “The Bear Came Over the Mountain”,
a tragic but uplifting tale of a husband and wife of 50 years coming to grips with Alzheimer’s Disease.
It was all too familiar territory for me and I knew instinctively why I hadn’t seen it in the theater.
Sometimes I hate when I’m right.

The internal walls I’d previously built for emotional protection were deteriorating rapidly, waiting patiently to be torn down.
New and stronger walls were waiting in the wings.
Seeing yourself in virtually every scene of a movie is a powerful (and devastating) experience and something has to give.
My already shaky walls began crumbling before my very eyes.
Seemingly insignificant scenes were like storms in the night, moments of illumination exposing moments of denial, the mind’s premeditated closing of the eyes.
I was watching my mother and father on the screen as years of pent up heartbreak gently poured out of me.
And truth be told, it felt like prayer, a long forgotten Hail Mary . . .
I’ve written much about my mother’s many moments of clarity, the small gifts I believe are given to us from up above.
The last minute of the movie contains such a moment, an incredibly beautiful moment.
I could only sit and watch the credits roll by,
letting this “thing” happen, if that makes any sense.
I apologized to my wife for being so weepy.
She hugged me as I knew she would and said, “I understand. It’s okay.”
All the ancient walls inside me came crashing down and as of this morning I’ve already begun new construction, my Extreme Internal Makeover, if you will.
This post isn’t so much about my tears or my outward showing of intense emotion.
It’s about the willingness to ultimately set some of my shadows free.
And so far, it’s all good.
You’ll have to watch the movie to understand the significance of the post title.
I’m not giving anything away . . .
~m