CRAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL MY LITTLE MUTANTS!

Before I begin I’d like to know why so few of you little monsters have written me to ask questions?  I get lonely up here on the homestead.  Am I going to have to come out there and find you?  We hope not, right?  Just drop an email to:

oldmonster@daverana.com

And ask me anything you like, or just recommend a subject to write about, a loudmouthed sod to pick on or anything else that might be worth a look or a laugh.  And remember:  If I don’t hear from a few more of you soon I’ll come looking for you.

How are all of you on this Hanachristmakwanzsolstiyule?  We’re doing quite well all things considered, we had a Hell of an ice storm two weeks ago.  The ice formed so thickly that light poles and power lines were torn down and crushed, trees fell over and tore down more utility poles, and in general the town and every one of the primates living here went completely apeshit.  Not that I mind, I have a dynamo in the dungeon.  We did lose power temporarily.  Well only for a few minutes until Mr. V got the dynamo running.  Most of the locals were out for more than a week.  I couldn’t believe the looks some of them gave me in the street two days later because my lights were on and their’s weren’t.  I hate jealousy, don’t you?  Of course it could have been that I was dragging half a street preacher back to my house…

Naaah.

The holidays are a busy time for me and mine, we spend the previous few weeks stocking up on supplies for the winter months, and making preparations for the holidays themselves.  You know: hanging lights, stringing garland, sharpening the knives and Mr. V’s favorite two-headed broadaxe (can’t forget that!) and of course getting presents for each other.  There’s nothing like going to the lab first thing in the evening and finding fresh “patients” chained to the wall.  What can I say?  I’m easy to please.  Of course I could use some new lab glass as well.  I go through so many vials, beakers, and such during the course of a year.  Mr V can be a tad clumsy at times.  That said, the brute is invaluable.  He does the kind of heavy lifting that would make a forklift proud, and he’s loyal and attentive.  He never interrupts either, but that might be because his tongue is gone, I’m not sure.  I’ll have to ask him how that happened someday.  Now where was I?

Oh yeah, the holidays.  We had a lovely time.  We strung the old oak tree out back with the usual things, intestines and odd trinkets we’ve collected from our guests over the years.  I have a really nice antique coffin available if anyone wants it, it’s a nineteenth century model and only used once. It’s an extra, I have plenty.  So we decorated the tree like I said.  After that we went in and opened presents.  Nix was such a dear this holiday, he made a little sweater for Albert and he even remembered to make enough sleeves for all his little legs… and his tentacles too, that must have taken quite a while.  Nix got a book of protection spells (the rabbit can be a bit vindictive at times and his aim isn’t what it could be).  Hieronymous sent me the materials for a new capacitor bank to replace the old ones hooked up to the lightning rod.  Once I have it all hooked up to the battery room maybe I can make Mr. V a new playmate.  That would be nice.

Then we went out and egged the old church.  Oh get over it, no one’s used that old wreck for at least a century!  You must admit, it’s a great way to bring the family closer together.  We finished off the day with a nice, sit down meal.  I can’t tell you how much I love roast missionary.  Then again I just did, didn’t I?

So here we are after dinner, hiding behind the curtains waiting for the inevitable christmas carolers.  Mmmmmmmm, caaarolers.

Happy holidays everyone!

Huminz iz funee:

As of Nov. 18th, the most popular sport for divorced special ops soldiers in Durham NC seems to be… baby gladiator contests. Yeah, wrap your heads around that for a moment.
If you can.
No worries, I’ll wait.

linkies for the justifiably skeptical: http://www.abcnews.go.com/GMA/story?id=6278310&page=1

Done yet? Ok, good. Seems this asshat of a soldier videotaped his two year old beating another two year old bloody while he egged the boy on. Then, the stupid, attention whoring bastard posted it on YouTube. Wait, you don’t think he’s an attention whore? Why else post the video, hell, why else make the video? He wanted to show off his kid’s mad skills which paradoxically would never have developed if his father wasn’t such a brutal, unevolved glory hound. Sooooo… attention whore. The two year old in question is now staying with a relative. Might I suggest a total stranger? You know, someone NOT connected genetically or socially to this troglodyte?

You know, I really love the human mindset. I’ve never seen so many ways to wrap all that bad behavior in such a small package. Scary little monkeys, the lot of you.

MORE, YOU SAY?

A church in Kamarovo, a rural town in the Russian republic… is missing.

You can’t make shit like this up. Said church was inspected a few months
before the incident in question in an effort to prepare the abandoned
church for reopening and found structurally sound. A few months later all
that was left were parts of the foundation and a bit of wall.

“Pardon me, that grinding noise you just heard was a paradigm shifting
without a clutch.”

How does a church go missing? I realize it was a rural area but was it
really that isolated? An entire church is literally carried off piece by
piece and fixture by fixture in the space of three months and no one
notices? I would figure that at least one person would have noticed a
pile of bricks, a box full of candlesticks and four pews stuffed in the
back of a pickup truck, wouldn’t you?

“Hey Boris, does that podium look familiar to you?”

Is funny Igor, I don’t remember the police station having steeple, do you?

MORE?

Just before the recent collective sigh of relief at the thorough trouncing of the Batshit Rightwing Machine general election, actor, Steven fundy-as-all-fuck Baldwin announced he would move out of the country if Obama were ever elected. Well, dickhead? Get steppin! If you’re having trouble finding a country that will put up with you just head on over here and knock on the side door. When it opens just go to the guy in the hockey mask and tell him you’re unwilling to live in a country like this one moment longer. I’m sure he can come up with a way to help you. Maybe not with the living here part, but he can certainly find a solution to the living part of your problem.

It certainly won’t do the American gene pool any harm.

I MUST ADMIT, THOUGH, YOU HUMANS SURE KNOW HOW TO PARTY:

RESORT PLANS MONTH LONG NUDE “ANYTHING GOES” PARTY

“Tough economic times call for stiff measures,” Tony Fox, the owner of
the White Cockatoo resort in Mossman, in tropical Queensland state, told
the Courier-Mail newspaper.

Stiff measures? Put a quarter in the bad pun jar and move on, nothing to
see here… except nude Australians.

“It will be a hedonism resort, where anything goes for a month. It
doesn’t take rocket science to work out what it means,” says the owner of the resort.

No, I guess it doesn’t. It means an increase in calls to police and the
accompanying madness that causes, a rise in Viagra sales, increased TV sightings of Smilin’ Bob, the Enzyte Guy, and a possible spike in the birthrate ’round about August ‘09. Carry on, Kiddies.

Well that’s about it for this week, freaks. Just remember this helpful bit of romantic advice from the Old Monster: “If you really need to get his attention ladies, don’t use small talk… use a sledgehammer.”

I just flew in and boy are my wings tired. Wait, my what?

Hello Boils and Ghouls,

Yeah yeah yeah, I know that was used by the Crypt Keeper before… all the good lines have been used, get off me.  So I hardly know where to start to be honest, the last two weeks have been a real gas.  Let tell you the Old Monster is kind of fragged.  First, we had an election here in the good old US of A, and perhaps in a few years or so after some major work (and eight years of paranoia) perhaps we can actually call it good again.  I love elections, all those yummy pollsters… mmmmmmmm.  But it’s not all good is it?

Elections bring out the worst in people don’t they?  According to his esteemed former opponents, Obama is either an elitist, terrorist, half-breed muslim, tax-crazed, amoral, inexperienced, silk tongued devil (for real if the neocons are to be believed).  Either that or he’s that radical, gay-loving, Foreign-double-agent-gonna-give-the-country-to-the-blacks-and-teh-EBIL-gays, tax and spend thief-in-the-night… oh forget it.  I can just see half of these clowns up on their roofs like that Gabby idiot from BLAZING SADDLES, standing on the church roof with a telescope yelling “The Sheriff is a n*****!” over and over again only to be drowned out by the church bell every time he got to the ‘N’ word.  One thing was obvious: every right-wing jerkoff from Ashcroft to Limbaugh to Palin (especially Palin) and from Coulter to Rice to Schlaffly really, really,  wanted to say that word.

The so called common folk weren’t behaving so gallantly either, don’t get me wrong.  Shirley Nagel proved handily that Ann Coulter hasn’t cornered the market on politically motivated douchbaggery, or for that matter how to speak without considering the possible consequences of her so called ‘point of view’.  I hope this cow enjoyed all those prank calls she got.  I still don’t see how trick-or-treat has anything to do with with politics but hey, what do I know?  This damned earth logic of mine… always getting in the way of my understanding how some of you humans think.  I’m ashamed, no really.

Joe The Plumber is the new poster child for ‘undeserved celebrity’ and boy does he live up to the description, at least the first word of it anyway.  He’s so far gone through three different dumb-assed ideas in a lame attempt to stretch his celebrity over a few extra minutes.  Good luck with that.  Joe proves that a borderline employed, unlicensed, big-mouthed plumber with a limited command of the language can waste far more of America’s time and attention then other less important things… like issues.

Anyway, Obama won and now we can look forward to a president who speaks in complete sentences more often than not, doesn’t that sound nice?  Added bonus: he may actually have a mind in that skull of his.  He can even pronounce nuclear (nook – lee – ur, NOT noo – kyoo – lurr!) dammit!

Joe Biden and his teeth get to hang out with the cool kids for a few years, provided he can keep the verbal gaffes to a minimum.  Can he pull it off?  We’ll find out soon enough.

I can’t help but think that these reviews would be a hell of a lot worse if the news wasn’t so willing to overlook what was happening on the democratic side of the election issue.  Don’t get me wrong, they’re way too right biased to ignore a mistake, no no no.  They only ignore the good parts deliberately, the rest is myopic journalism, promise.

Note to Fox News: you can dig up a lot more dirt if you actually pick up the shovel… natch.

Sarah Palin fought hard to further the cause against women’s rights, and damned if she didn’t lower that glass ceiling at least a foot or two!  Way to go, Sarah.  From having no respect for women, or herself for that matter, our girl has come within and inch of inciting a race war, lowered rape victims to the status of burglary suspects, and let’s not forget some stellar performances in nearly every public appearance and interview she was involved in.  It takes real commitment to last through an entire debate without correctly answering a single question.  Comedy gold.  Anyway, now our girl can go home with a smile on that vacuous, painted mug of hers where she will be greeted by her adoring fans… all twenty four of them.  After pondering briefly the possibility of a run for president in 2012 (is that year a happy coincidence or what?) our lady of the venomously oblivious and her fans will retire to the home of one of the more prominent sheep molesters for a barbecue… which might explain the helicopters parked behind the tool shed.

John I-Do-Have-A-Soul-It’s-Just-Been-Mortgaged McCain can now go home to Arizona.  John ended a dirty campaign by delivering an excellent concession speech which proved two things:
One, knowing that Sarah Palin wouldn’t be within miles of him for at least the next four years has definitely improved his demeanor.
Two, four months of rehearsal and the best speech writer that republican money can buy makes for one hell of  an I-Give-Up speech.  Nice try though, John.

Ralph Nader topped off the shenanigans by pulling the “Uncle Tom” card in an interview.   Honestly, how many of you actually knew this grumpy old ‘never was’ even ran this year?  The whole interview read like a five year old who’d just gotten whipped in an insult contest yelling back over his shoulder while walking away.

“Well… well you’re fat!”

And you’re a sour old bastard.  Please shut up.

In a related story I keep hearing that some folks, including some in the media and on the internet, are blaming the passage of California’s Proposition 8 on the blacks.  BZZZUUHHH!?!  Look here, simples:

http://www.dailykos.com/storyonly/2008/11/7/34645/1235/704/656272

Follow the link to a COUNTY by COUNTY tally of African American voters and I’m sure anyone of you walking Happy Meals will see that this is simply not-the-frikkin-case! Have you ever heard the term “Wedge Issue”?  have those words ever entered or even passed through your head?  First, it’s a simple case of the pro-prop8 crowd saying something like “See, those black folks really aren’t your friends” in a blatant attempt to make us fight amongst ourselves.  Sounds familiar, eh?  You want to hear the really embarrassing part of this venomous twaddle?  A lot of you fell for it.  It doesn’t even add up logistically and when you look at it the issue it’s as clear as glass:  The measure passed because too many whites were organized in favor of it, too many out of staters funded it, and not enough whites opposed it.  In a state where African Americans comprise 6.7 percent of the voting population any other conclusion is asinine.  That’s one mistake too many.  I’ve had it with this pity the poor helpless mortals crap… you pinheads are back on the damn menu!

IN MOVIE NEWS:

TWISTED PICTURES is the production company that created the SAW series of horror films.  There’s no disputing the quality of the pictures put out by this company, though some of them are certainly better than others.  One of their earlier films, CATACOMBS, falls roughly in the middle of the spectrum quality wise.
Shannyn Sossamon plays Victoria, an severely introverted woman who has come to Paris at the invitation of her more worldly sister, played by an unusually plain-dressed Alecia ‘Pink’ Moore.  Don’t get me wrong, the mundane look isn’t wasted on Pink, she kind of looked like Tori Spelling but, you know… pretty… and without the horse DNA.  Upon her arrival, Carolyn (Moore) informs her that they’ll be attending a rave being held beneath the streets of Paris.  Specifically, in the largest mass grave in in the world.  While at the rave, Carolyn is killed by a maniac in a goat’s head mask, leaving Victoria alone in the infrequently lit tunnels.  More wackiness ensues of course, and Victoria is subjected to numerous tortures including a police raid, a nasty bump on the head, a crazed, occasionally lecherous psychopath, and oh yeah, did I mention the guy in the goat’s head mask?

The movie is a bit slow in the middle which detracts overall from the films watchability.  Otherwise it’s a solid, if questionably casted picture (for the most part every other character could have been played better save perhaps Henri, you’ll see why).  A few people I know didn’t care much for the ending but I must admit I liked it.  It was cathartic.  Violence has that effect on me, you know?

MY RATING:  Two and one half shrunken heads.

Stay tuned for a book review and more craziness in the next few days.  until then, creeps, break a leg…

Yes, someone else’s

The Old Monster

The Midnight Meat Train

Hello you little mutants, The Old Monster has a review for you.  This should help kill off a few of those tedious hours while you wait for Halloween to get here.  Gods know I could use the diversion, this place is quiet as a tomb right now and nowhere near as pleasant.  So, why don’t you all take a moment away from your election frustrations and sink your fangs into this tidbit:

THE MIDNIGHT MEAT TRAIN

Directed by Ryuhei Kitamura

Based on the short story by Clive Barker.

Another movie that deserved a major release and didn’t get one.  This one is based on a story from Clive Barker’s BOOKS OF BLOOD: The Midnight Meat Train.  This movie is one of those rarities that follows the story it was based upon very closely, if not exactly.  You’ll never hear me complain about that, kiddies, unless the story sucks.  This one does not.  This movie isn’t high art mind you.  It’s a well regimented, gripping and visually intense horror movie free of pretense.  Sadly, it was also free of a major promotional package which is why a lot of you haven’t heard of it unless you subscribe to FearNet.

This is one of those movies where superb acting isn’t necessary, the story focuses more on atmosphere than character, and as a result even if the acting were terrible (and it’s not), the movie would still please.

Bradley Cooper plays the (anti)hero Leon Kauffman, a photographer who wants to show his audience the real city: the grit, the filth, the crime… you know, all the good things about city life.  The problem is that he has no audience, and somehow seems to miss the mark with a lot of his photography.  The words “if only I’d kept shooting for a few more seconds” play in a never ending loop in the back of his mind.  Enter Susan Hoff (Brooke Shields) an aggressive and only *slightly* vicious Art promoter with a taste for younger men and no tolerance for ‘artists’ who don’t go that extra mile for the perfect shot.  That ‘extra mile’ comes for Kauffman when he stops a model from being raped only to find out that the woman turns up missing the following day.  While examining one of the photos he took of her he gets his first glimpse of Mahogany, and the trail leads him to a conspiracy no one could have guessed at.  Unless, of course, you’re a fan of Clive Barker.

The movie moves at a good clip with few dull spots.  Even the quiet moments keep your interest.  There are a number of memorable scenes here, be sure to pay close attention to Ted Raimi’s appearence in the subway, the fight between Mahogany (Vinnie Jones) and a Guardian Angel (Quinton ‘Rampage’ Jackson), and one of the better final confrontations I’ve seen in recent years.  You ever notice that?  So many good movies crap out on the final fight… but not this one, it’s worth the price of admission by itself.

MY RATING:  FOUR AND ONE HALF SEVERED HEADS OUT OF FIVE (Now where’s that mop?)

cast

Leon Kauffman                 Bradley Cooper
Maya                                 Leslie Bibb
Susan Hoff                       Brooke Shields
Mahogany                        Vinnie Jones (Without the rubber suit he wore as Juggernaut in Xmen, The Last Stand)
Jurgis                              Roger Bart
Driver                             Tony Curran
Detective Lynn Hadley    Barbara Eve Harris
Otto                                Peter Jacobson
Leigh Cooper                  Stephanie Mace
Randle Cooper                Ted Raimi
Erika Sakaki                    Nora
Guardian Angel               Quinton ‘Rampage’ Jackson
Troy Taleveski                Dan Callahan
Station Cop                     Don Smith

So if you have the money, or a corpse or three to rifle for change, get yourself a copy or view it on FearNet.

Forgive the vitriol, I have a slight “civilization” deficiency.

I asked an acquaintance why he mangled his prey so viciously before eating it and he said “because they’re human”. Now I’m not the biggest fan of Homo Sapiens myself but I hardly think such venom would be good for the digestion would it? That would be like hating a hamburger. Anyway, I found myself first wondering why some of us hate so much and that led to wondering what makes a human despicable. That eventually led to pondering what the definition of human really is. Hey, I’m old, my mind wanders. Get off me.

So…

How would you define humanity, what is being human? Other than “you’re lunch” I mean. No really, what does it mean to be human? It would take someone outside of the equation to answer the question certainly. Just as certain is that an answer is still quite a while away. We have ideas of course, but only regarding what makes an individual an individual; not what makes all of these individuals human. Realization of that makes those of us “nonhumans” and “formerly-humans” a little nervous. Why? because it doesn’t matter if it’s a vampire, ghoul, werewolf or whatever the hell else it might be that ponders the question the answer is always the same. We don’t agree on ANYTHING! Let me say this again… MONSTERS DO NOT AGREE ON ANYTHING… EVER… except this:

You humans are messed up. Really REALLY messed up.

I’ve eaten college educated kids who didn’t even know what their own governments were up to 30 years ago. You say this is a bad student? Sadly, no. It’s an entire generation of good students with a lousy curriculum. It’s like a really cruel parody of the old saying “You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink”. When it comes to humans learning from their mistakes it should read read “If you don’t lead the horse to water the wanker won’t realize it’s thirsty until about half past YOU’RE DEAD YOU MORON!” If you don’t teach your kids their own history they WILL make the same sodding mistakes that have been made repeatedly throughout your history. I know this because I’ve been watching the whole sorry show since the first of you monkeys learned to plant crops.

A lot of people don’t even realize how many times the human race has had to re-teach itself how to live. Running water has been introduced to how many cultures how many times in how many years? People just don’t retain lessons from one generation to the next unless it’s forced on them. Don’t even get me started on propaganda and how history is repeatedly rewritten and distorted. And speaking of warping the truth…

Spirituality is great, really. We all have our beliefs. But organized religion, at least in my humble opinion, works far better in theory than in practice. Especially when the government du jour gets involved. Think I’m kidding? Remind me to talk to all of you about faith-based initiatives sometime. Or perhaps you could read up on the law in some Muslim nations I can think of. Or a European government about six hundred years ago. Better, use that melon of yours and crack a history book. Religion and politics do not mix, regardless of what a few sociopathic nutjobs have to say on the matter.

Before you try to say this only occurs over hundreds or thousands of years just keep this old one liner from about 2003 in mind:

“You may think things are bad now but you should have seen what the country was like twelve years ago. Bush was president, the economy was crap, we were at war in Iraq… Wait a minute!”

See what I mean? You don’t learn. I shouldn’t complain really, the more you folks live like veal, the more you taste like veal after all. Mmmm, veeeeeeeeeal. *cough* Where was I? Oh yes. We were discussing pathos human culture, right? It isn’t just your inability to get the point either. Your people are every flavor of crazy-as-a-shithouse-rat I’ve ever known. For example:

Meeting Of The Heavyweights: Richard Simmons VS Divine
The first time Divine met Richard Simmons (only a short time before his death) he turned to John Waters and said “I think I just became homophobic.” What can I say, the lady can call ‘em.

One of the world’s largest single nuclear arsenals is controlled by Alfred E. Neumann’s psychotic evil twin… a man who can’t pronounce nuclear.

A large percentage of the human race can’t accept that humans are animals and like the other great apes evolved from lower forms of life, but tell them that a magic sky wizard made two people out of clay and then threw them out of the yard because they became hippies and took an apple from a talking snake; they buy it hook line and sinker. Yeah, that makes sense.

You have a culture where four oblivious, judgmental harridans have what amounts to a hen party every morning on national television and people take them seriously.

“I believe diplomacy should be the cornerstone of any foreign policy… and I can see Russia from my house!” ’nuff said.

Well, not really. For the record one does not define feminist as a self righteous moron who would make rape victims pay for their own rape kits and would force her own daughter into what amounts to a shotgun wedding with a “boy” who constantly has this “I-should-have-settled-for-a-blowjob” grimace plastered on his face. He’ll make a great husband I’m sure. All of this for propriety’s sake? Making a genuine scandal of yourselves to avoid an imagined scandal makes as much sense as a screen door on a submarine.

There are a large percentage of people in the world who are literally too damn stupid to realize that a writer of horror and/or fantasy DOES NOT really believe what he’s written is true. And this is not seen as a problem… REALLY?!?!

It is the stated goal of many religions to be prolific when it comes to childbearing, yet these same faiths go to insane lengths to make the act of producing children as miserable an experience as possible.

Fifteen years ago a bunch of inbred fatcat bankers who wouldn’t know the business end of a shovel if you hit them with it went broke because they were stupid with the nation’s money. One of these retard bankers was the president’s son. So how does the country deal with these nitwits? by giving them money so they can try again… and just to be sure they screw it up the same way, the country elects one of the retards president (that same simple son of a president in fact) and yes! The bankers failed just like before. But this time with multiple times the amount of money. I don’t know who’s more screwed up: the bankers, or the retards who still put up with them after bankrupting the country twice in fifteen years.

You ever notice that even in this country there is a huge percentage of the population that takes every bit of BS the media spits up at face value? It’s the news, it has to be true. You have to be kidding me, right?

A person allows her newly rescued (from an animal shelter) kitten to play with a pet gerbil on her bed (You see where this is going, yes?). The kitten follows it’s instincts and voila, one dead gerbil. The girl decides the kitten is dangerous and wants to bring it back to the shelter because she’s afraid it will attack her other cats. Um… wow. I don’t think it’s the kitten who’s messed up sweetie.

An organization called PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) recently petitioned Ben & Jerry’s to replace the cow’s milk in their ice cream with, get this… human breast milk. Why aren’t these drool-buckets wearing rubber tuxedos yet?

Recently a community in California went batshit over a few of their high school athletes smoking pot. The way schools are in America these days I don’t blame them for getting high, you can get sued for pushing a kid down in recess. Can you imagine what you’d get if some kid’s mom sued over a tackle? Hell, they have to do something to de-stress.

A roman catholic priest in Joliet Illinois who was counseling a married couple has had suit filed against him by the husband for, wait for it… quitting the church and moving in with the husband’s estranged wife. And we thought they were all child molesters, guess he showed us!

A squatter in Lincoln, Nebraska called the police to report a break in. The police arrive to find the building manager trying to get into the apartment. Turns out the locks were changed illegally and the man inside the apartment didn’t want the manager to find his pot (three pounds of it) or the equipment he was using to grow it in the apt. I don’t even know where to start…

A child is born with a life-threatening illness to a 16 year old and her 18 year old boyfriend. The mother is mentally disturbed. The police enter the home of the child after concerns are raised over the child’s condition and try unsuccessfully to get the mother to release the child. Their solution? Taser the bitch! What are these, Milwaukee cops?

Some of us monsters use magic to play havoc with the populace, some of us use weird sciences and technologies to create or destroy at will and to protect ourselves; and some use brute force. But although fangs, claws, poison, spells, magical resistance, plotting, infecting, smashing, kidnapping, dissolving, murdering, transforming, banishing and the like are formidable ways of dispatching a foe (or preparing a meal as it were) they are no match whatsoever for a hairless, self-loathing ape with a god complex.

As I said, there is no definition for what makes one “human”. But we really don’t need to know what you are. Why? Easy, all it takes is for you to get just a little more stupid and this planet becomes a toxic cinder. Frankly, you scare the crap out of us. That’s explanation and motive right there kiddies.

Ta Ta kids, see you next time.

OM

No Pride?

Well I Never!

I can only wonder in shock at the implication that I, who singlehandedly destroyed legions, would need to make my living off what I find in my victim’s pockets. That’s just utter nonsense. I DO NOT roll my victims to make a living… I do it for fun. Nix does it for a living (I suppose I could just pay him but who the hell would give a demon a checking account?). But I digress. Digs like these do not come from rolling hobo. Does Hie honestly think I could afford all this lab equipment with pocket money?

Look at this palace; even the spiders are imported! He’s not the only one who knows how to invest their money wisely. Or hide it as the case may be. It’s not like the flies on this wall are going to talk. They can, but they won’t. See, talking flies are a good investment. So is the dynamo in the lab. You think the grid could provide the kind of juice I need for my experiments? Do you think Hie could?

Bah!

And while we’re talking about domiciles, what self respecting undead lives in a condo? No grave dirt, no vermin, no fog. The very idea sends a shudder down my spine. No thank you, give me that nice mausoleum smell any night of the week. It clears the sinuses… or at least it would if I had sinuses. Look at this cauldron over here for instance, it simply reeks with old world quality and a great many… other things. It’s made of cast iron and holds thirty gallons of whatever tickles your fancy; or knocks on your door. you just can’t find craftsmanship like that anymore without a hefty price tag. This particular marvel has been in my possession since oh… at least five or six wars ago. I know the value of good tools. My kitchen is better equipped than many a slaughterhouse and I’m proud to say every blotch, smear, and bloodstain was rightly earned. Another thing I love about having my own land is that I can modify pretty much at will. Tried digging a dungeon under that penthouse of yours yet, Hie?

Now that I think of it, where does he hide his captives? Hmmm, I’ll need to ask him sometime. It’s not like he can keep them in the garage, the neighbors would raise a hell of a fuss. Hell even catching them would be difficult in his position. I’m lucky in that respect. I catch a good number of them in town sleeping off a drunk, Mr. V catches quite a few of the teenage variety which gives me plenty of fresh blood for my work, and I even manage to catch the odd missionary or salesman with the trapdoor and no one ever misses those people. It’s like free money! Let’s see Hie explain something like that to housekeeping. Yes indeed, I like my digs just fine thank you. And by the way, Hie, so does that bloody rabbit of yours. What was his name again? Well yeah, he asked me to have you send your “man” Jarvis over with his pipe. I offered to send Nix for it but he seems to want to get Jarvis over here for some reason. Maybe he wants to show him that big hole he dug out back by smokehouse.

Now I’ll be the first to admit that this post is little more than a gripe session about the malicious slander coming from my esteemed colleague and as such has little in the way of actual substance. But this does happen on occasion, boils and ghouls, hot air begets hot air after all. Regarding Hie, I must confess the man has excellent taste so I can’t really begrudge him his advice. Everything else, sure, but not his advice.

An Answer To A Common Question

Hello vermin!

I come here today offering a bit of assistance for the aspiring writer.  I hear about situations like this a lot.   Someone writes a book and it’s a good one.  The characters are well developed and believable, the plot is solid and compelling, and it’s well paced.  It’s just wonderful– you know, like a still-beating heart freshly torn out of a nun.  Mmmm Mmmm Good… oh crap where was I?  Oh yeah: writer, book, plot, what’s next…?  Publishing!

So our writer friend has a book he/she/undecided wants to publish.   Outstanding, right?  Not always.  A friend tells you that he’s submitted his work to a few publishers and after a lot of refusals one of them contacts our friend and says he’ll publish the book for the oh-so-reasonable price of $650.00

According to this publisher that’s a good price and it’s used for “publishing and promotional costs”.  The big question: This is a good deal, right?

WRONG!

Time for our first lesson in knowing a publisher from a rectal wart.  No reputable publisher, repeat, NO REPUTABLE PUBLISHER will charge you to publish your book!  It’s one of the most common and sadly the fastest growing form of fraud in the industry today.  Publishers earn the right to a percentage of your sales for 1) turning your manuscript into a marketable book and making it available to the reading public.  2) promoting your work in order to boost sales.  THAT is where his money comes from.  It does not come from the writer’s pocket.  It’s this kind of filth that makes folks scared of the industry: there are genuine bad guys out there… know who you’re dealing with.

For the aspiring writer I’d suggest visiting (and reading everything you find there) two websites:

Writer Beware is an awesome site that lists people and companies you really don’t want to deal with and the reasons you don’t want to deal with them.

http://www.sfwa.org/beware/

Predators and Editors is kind of like the Holy Grail for new writers.  What to do, what not to do, and how to do it.  Not to mention what to avoid and enough general reference info to help anyone get going.

http://anotherealm.com/prededitors/

That’s probably the best help I can offer other than killing your enemies.  Now don’t get me wrong, I’d love to do it but hiding the evidence is too much work at my age.  Besides, we haven’t even been formally introduced.

‘Til next time Vermin

Break a leg, preferably someone else’s.

G’day goons!

Nice to see you sods again. Sorry about the delay but I’ve been destroying the evidence dealing with the leftovers from my last barbecue. It was kind of impromptu you see, I never expected that preacher to show up have that little accident.

Regardless of that mess here we are. There is a small matter I wanted to talk about if that’s ok with you buggers (and even if it’s not). I’d like to tell you about another movie that in my humble opinion…

Okay, which one of you halfwits coughed?

Anyway, The movie in question didn’t get the credit it deserved. Happy?

PRIMEVAL
This movie’s only real flaw was that it was last in line at Hollywood’s half-hearted and mostly ill advised spate of “sort of” political thriller/big animal hunt flicks that came out toward the end of 2006. Primeval had the bad break of being released the following January (never a good sign) and it also recieved some bad press relating to some of the dialogue. It wasn’t Orlando’s fault, honest!

Dominic Purcell plays Tim Manfrey, an arrogant reporter who gets his tuckus handed to him after botching an important story. His punishment: he’s sent to Africa to cover the mauling of an American naturalist by a legendary man eating crocodile named Gustave. To put it mildly he has more respect for the reptile than his partner Aviva Masters (Brooke Langton), and no respect at all for the rest of his companions save his trusty cameraman Steven Johnson (Orlando Jones). Interestingly, the crocodile isn’t the problem.

DAMMIT.

The movie is well acted and thankfully the croc looks better than you’d expect in a movie like this… way better. Aside from some unfortunate dialogue from Orlando’s character, as I’d mentioned, the movie works. It kept my attention and that’s saying something. I’m particularly fond of the villian. No, not the damn croc, the real villian. A warlord who goes by the moniker “Little Gustave”.

Enjoy.

In other news, why is a pretentious, right-wing twat like Elizabeth Hasselbeck lecturing Whoopi Goldberg about anything at all; let alone Sociology and racial issues. The mind, it boggles. Well, Hasselbeck’s mind just sort of sits there, but we all knew that didn’t we kiddies?

That’s it for now, I’ll have more when I get this mess cleaned up. Hmmm, I do have that complete and utter nightmare get-together with Hie and the boys to plan and I haven’t even come up with a main course yet. I could always give The View a call, couldn’t I?

Ravenous

It irritates me that some truly excellent independent horror films never get the acclaim they deserve.  So, from time to time I will be reviewing these films when I encounter them in the hope that said movie’s fanbase may increase, if only by a little bit.  Case in point is this little gem:

Ravenous (1999, directed by Antonia Byrd and written by Ted Griffin) is a moody, quirky little horror film set in 1847 in the western Sierra Nevada Mountains.  Recently promoted for heroism, Capt. Boyd (Guy Pierce) is transferred to Fort Spencer after his commanding officer realises that his heroism was only possible due to a previous act of cowardice.  The Mexican forces had dragged Boyd’s “corpse” behind their wall to bury it.

Everyone at the fort seems to have their own bent reasons for being there.  I like the word bent, don’t you?  It’s almost as much fun as ground into a sticky paste but, you know… not.  Anyway, The first in Command is Col. Hart (Jeffrey Jones), a weary, shell shocked bookworm who’s heart isn’t really in his job.  Then there’s drunken major Knox (Stephen Spinella) who also has the dubious position of company medic.  Whatever you do, don’t get sick.  Under Boyd is a loco-weed crazed cook (David Arquette), the chaplain (Jeremy Davies), and Neal McDonough as private Reich (Rrrrraaaaagh!) stay away from him.  Also attached to the fort are two Native Americans who came with the fort and act as guides.

Things get ugly when a starved, half frozen man in rags named Colqhoun (Robert Carlyle) staggers into camp with a terrifying story of murder and Cannibalism initiated by the evil major Ives, the guide attached to Colqhoun’s party.  The unit mounts a rescue attempt to the cave where Colqhoun’s party had sheltered when the snows made the mountain impassable.  Over the course of the trip it becomes apparent that things are far worse than Colqhoun let on.

The movie is genuinely creepy and the pervasive sense of dread increases steadily throughout the movie.  Sprinkled throughout is a liberal dose of some truly sadistic humor that blends seamlessly to the tension of the film.  Carlyle and Pierce turn in masterful performances as Colqhoun and Boyd, and Jeffrey Jones puts in an entertaining performance as the hapless Col. Hart.

Pay special attention to the performances of Arquette, Spinella, McDonough and Sheila Tousey (Martha, the indian guide).  The creators of the film put a lot of effort into the development of the minor characters.

Rating:  Four and one half shrunken heads way, way up!

Did you miss me?

You did? That’ll teach you fuckers to take proper care of your firearms. Anyway, Old Monster here again saying Good Morrow Maggots… and Magettes. I don’t want the ladies feeling left out now do I?

On to business. There isn’t anything of earth shattering importance going on here at the abattoir tonight so I figured I’d expound on a little ponderable that I got from a big lizard I work with. At least that’s what I’ll write about until I think of something useful.

So, what sort of food service experience do you think the monster on the go prefers? Sounds goofy, but goofy is one of the reasons we’re here right?

Some vampires like drive through… or drive-by depending on your outlook and some prefer a nice, drawn out dining experience. :p Some prefer to sneak up to the window and take grammy’s pie off the sill, right?

As for werewolves? Steakhouse for sure. All you can eat buffets (or bus stations?), Asian take out (hold the kimonos), the possibilities are endless.

Ghouls wouldn’t be so particular, would they? I’m sure anyone would do as long as they aren’t overcooked. What the hell, even Burger King needs a clientèle.

Ghosts eat donut holes. And Shannon Elizabeth(sp?), but that’s another matter entirely. I also hear they’re fond of cupcakes, but they usually wind up on the floor so who gives a damn?

Sa’ Necari like to eat in bed.

Incubi enjoy the ol’ bed and bloodfest too, but they tend to be a lot less formal about utensils.

Frankenstein’s monster? Wine and a cigar? “uhhhhhhOOOWWWWWW!!” (sorry Mel)

Fundamentalists eat everything… liberals, single moms, the disabled, immigrants, brown people, scenery, the list goes on. And they don’t need no steengkeeng restaurant either. If they can see you they’ll eat you.

And people think I’m bad? Hell, take out one church social and they look at you like you have two heads…

Ok, we’ve kicked that horse about as much as we can.