I have been meaning to write for days about this, and do to a recent spat of the “blues” with the loss of a family member, I find myself home today. I should be at the gym, I normally would be. However, I’m home. Blue. Depressed.
So that’ll tint my opinion today, but this discussion has been going on in my circles recently. It’s reached a national level.
Russia is anti-gay. Like America, the country doesn’t take too kindly to change. They’ve always been this way; we’ve always been this way. It happens that a few people, homophobes tend to be vocal and wealthy. They can use gay rights issues as a firey point to rile the masses and have done so there in Moscow.
It’s sad. Gays being beaten on the streets (like here, as a matter of fact). But, unlike here, we have many avenues to lash back and defend ourselves. The whole thing in Russia, making a law to outlaw “gay propaganda” leaves itself open to interpretation and can be used to police innocent peoples.
Kinda like they used terrorism here in the states.
Ahem. I digress.
But time and again, such laws are used to also distract from dirty dealings and a faulty system.
Again, just like here.
I HATE using Hitler’s Germany as a comparison, but, hear me out. I think of how Hitler hosted the Berlin Olympics. He wanted to showcase his “Master Race.”
Then Jesse Owens won. And Hitler refused to attend the Medal Ceremony.
I don’t think we can change the opinions of a massively homophobic society of another country; we’re having a hard enough time changing it here (again, speaking about how resistant this country is to “change”). But here’s my take on this situation.
No. Don’t boycott the Olympics.
This doesn’t garner favor with my circles, but here’s the thing, if I may. I lived right next door to the Olympic Training Center. You have no idea how much these people invest in events. Literally sacrificing concepts of “life” that you and I take for granted. They live and breathe one sport all the time. See a movie? Maybe in the twenty minutes between calorie counting, eating, and driving over to the weight room. Chat with friends? Sure, But they have to still get their 7.34 hours of sleep, so make it quick.
I will not take away their reason for living. I cannot do that.
No. Don’t move the Olympics.
Sorry, that city, not the country invested everyone to get these things ready. There is no way another location can be picked.
Fuck the Olympic Committee. They’re assholes.
Yes. I said that. The IOC are a buncha schmucks who think their shit doesn’t stink, frankly. They sued, successfully because they had a shitload of MONEY (yet again), to make the Gay Olympics change their name to the Gay Games. They said it was a copyright infringement.
Asswipes.
They were fine with the Hermit Crab Olympics. They were okay with the Olympics of Yo-Yos. But those gays? No. Can’t use the name.
So we’re dealing with an already homophobic schmucktards.
They said they’ll support Russia if they arrest anyone, since everyone should respect their home countries laws. So? If Germany is killing Jews, screw that noise, you can’t say anything.
What can we do?
I encourage our American counterparts to do something that is, truly American. Stand up to bullies. I think of the “Black Power” protests during the Mexico Olympics. We should stand by our Americans who are marginalized. We should go over there and just be.
If we get arrested? Watch Americans support Americans. Watch how we’ll howl and escalate the situation and show that this is not appropriate. NBC should report, nightly, how our gay and lesbian Americans are being treated and compare it to Russia’s idiocy. No, don’t cancel the news. Use it like Fox uses it emphasize the conservative side of things. Let media send the message.
McDonalds can still sponsor it, but they should still voice, loudly, “we do not CONDONE this.”
That’s what I think.
Take Russia to task by being vocal.
And then let our borders open to those seeking asylum from Russian tyranny.
Movie stuff. My favorite crap to write about. As we know, Rahrah and I have been doing these 'lists' for some time now, usually movie related. So? This challenge was:
MOVIES THAT SCARED THE HECK OUT OF ME
Now the rules for this? It didn't necessarily have to be a horror movie. But it couldn't be Glitter or The Room.
I suppose Birdemic might count.
But it had to be something that moved this audience member towards fear. Again, by no means, does this communicate that move was good or bad. Trust me on that. So? Here's a few titles. I elected not to numerate them this time--so they are all on equal standing.
Movies that scared the hell out of me
Bowling for Columbine/Sicko!--Yes, you get a twofer, right off the bat. Here's the thing about these movies. I hate the news, frankly. I think they are a lead-in to commercials. And, so, they only report on things that keep you interested, or, in the face of Fox, to make you vote a certain way. I tuned out. The internet makes things a bit more interesting, since I can pick and choose my news. But that means I miss things, if I'm not looking directly at the items of concern. Living in Colorado, of course, I knew all about Columbine. But I saw the whole debate about guns for the first time as a clearer picture.
Now, don't get me wrong. I don't necessarily agree with Mr. Moore. I believe him to be a bit of an extremist. But his movie opened my mind. Wereas he does illustrate the problem of gun violence, he has a weird way of handling it.
And scared the hell out of me. I had not seen the screaming masses in the name of guns before that point. I mean, I always knew that this was a hot topic, but the ease that people were getting guns and using them was too much. And to look at the United State culture in terms of their love of violence and shunning of anything connected with love, I started to form my opinion.
No, I didn't agree with Mr. Moore. But I also don't agree with everyone else.
Sicko was the same. Did I mention, both of these movies are comedies? I was shocked of the cases they selected.
It helped me understand the issues some Americans face. And even if a fraction of what was said was true-then there needs to be a change.
Silence of the Lambs--I had a blessed college career. I not only managed a movie theater, I was able to write the reviews for the local paper the night before. I was able to watch the movie at midnight and get the review out by morning's printing. It was a rough gig, don't get me wrong, but sometimes the whole experience was glorious.
South Dakota that year was very, very cold and windy at night. I invited my buddy to watch this little flick I had threaded up and, well, at midnight, we watched this thriller, alone, in a completely empty mall in a completely empty theater. There was no one around. And when those credits ended and the film fell silent. We were freaked out.
There were serial killers out there. I had even read the book and I was still freaked out. A good performance is a good performance and Doctor Lector took the perverbial cake. Our jaws went slack.
These creatures existed.
And we were scared. I remember getting into my bug to drive back to the dorms and the computer lab and looking into the backseat.
Do you know how small a bug car is? And we took the energy to check the back seat.
Yes, we were that scared.
Invasion of the Body Snatchers and their Various Reproductions: Okay, in the seventies, my babysitter and my brother took me to see this movie's remake, with Donald Sutherland and Leonard Nimoy. They had seen me already reading Stephen King and various nonfiction ghost stories. Surely, I could handle such a movie, right?
Changed my life. If there's something that we learned from Star Trek is that science fiction is the best way to present allegory. With similarities to our own world, we can finally see what it is that shocks us and compels us and makes us do what we will do.
And it can also show us the worst case scenario.
What if we invaded by something that looks exactly like us.
It scared the shit out of me. The way the reeds of the seeds would reach out, touch you, get a sample of your DNA and...puft, replace you. Horrific.
I screamed, but, well, I did watch it all the way to that truly horrific ending.
Disaster Movies: I'm not sure what it is about these movies. I've become callous, a product of age and experience. There's very little you could show me on the screen these days that'll get me freak out.
But last night (July 29th), I flipped out. ANd it was no movie. A propane factory exploded and I could see the mushroom clouds and hear the booms repeatedly.
My brain, trained by a nervous-nelly of an ethnic mother, immediately assumed the worst. The End Times had arrived. I took quick stock of my surroundings and all I needed to escape for the impending evacuation.
There was no need. But I was half-awake, so give me some Boy-Scout credit here.
But that feeling is repeated every time I see a disaster movie. Even as recently as the movie 2012, I have elected not to go to any of these kinds of movies any more. There's something emotionally involved. I handled "Twister" okay...but, even then, I have to really get it into my head that they are fake. It's just that, with disaster movies, there's a reality there I appreciate from all my time on Earth. Tornadoes, earthquakes, floods have actually happened. Alien attacks?
No so much.
You saw how I reacted to that explosion. I could not breathe deeply and realize I was safe. Instead, my mother, always assuming the worst, took control and there went my night's sleep.
Poltergeist: It was the pizza Aunt Pam ordered that did me in. Aunt Kathy had treated me to this horror flick. Well written, smooth as glass, America had received its first, true ghost story. It moved forward to every single trope we would have heard, but presented in such a smart way, we didn't mind and were pleasantly surprised.
But it was the pizza. It has red sauce. And then I went to Aunt Pam's with Aunt Kathy's right after the movie for dinner.
She and I sat there and stared. It hit us. We were scared.
Okay, maybe not scared, but we were grossed out to no end.
So the movie carried beyond the screen.
Running With the Devil: First of two television movies I'm going to mention here. Now, picture this. I'm an adult now and, well, since I've read the full pantheon of Clive Barker titles, I'm pretty good at handling scary things that are hurled at me. As an elementary kid? I didn't ahve the repetiore to fight back
And was wonderfully traumatized by the experiences my brother hurled at me. I was able to keep my cool, but this movie truly effected me on a new level. If you've never heard of it, it's the tale of a group in an RV that encounter a ritual Satanic ritual they interrupt. They're hunted, they get away, and...
...and, I have to give you a spoiler for this explanation to work.
They get caught. And the movie ends.
There's no ending.
This is the first time, ever I had encounted an open ended tale. It scared the shit out of me more than the ritual that flew into the beginning of this movie.
Don't Be Afraid of the Dark: Another television program. And, like the others, it stretched beyond the small four corners of a piece of furniture. We had a small door just like that, leading to a crawlspace beyond the living room. I knew this. When watching this movie, again, as a kid, I saw, suddenly that ANYTHING had the ability to create a decent scare moment. What lies beyond that small door. WHo made that phone call? Where did that email come from?
Why do people vote for the GOP?
Stories are born from such moments. In this case, so was horror.
Dawn of the Dead: I had watched Night of the Living Dead and was creeped out, but the ending was really clear, really obvious and really cut and dried. I was good, like reading a very full novel.
But then there was a sequel that dragged me further into the zombie quaqmire. Now I was scared. I suppose, in some respects, this is tied to the disaster movie, but the pain is increased by the mere fact are former humans banging at the double doors. Will the doors hold?
Now I am going to go out on a limb here and point out something that is extremely private. But, being queer, I saw that movie and noticed that not only would I be fighting for my life, there wasn't a single other gay person in that environment. The feeling of isolation would have been magnified.
But also, there's the ability to think fast. I don't think fast. When the biters arrive, I'll die. Or I'll caught dead rescuing my dog. This isn't good at all, I hate to say.
