28 avril 2005

Blood hound, repenting

Potentially, my liking of all fictional things blood and brain matter stems from the first time I watched a horror movie. I was 11, my parents and sister were watching Alien on video, and my brother and me had decided to hide behind the armchairs and watch it unbeknownst to them.
Until John Hurt started convulsing and there was blood, guts and a wee monster everywhere, that was. I nearly heaved up on the carpet, and then my parents realised I was here. They knew my brother was here too because the little bastard uttered wild cackles seeing me in my hour of shame. As any normal parents would have, mine ordered us to bed. I looked at them sweetly and said, "well, I've seen the beginning, I just have to watch the end now". They gave in, secretly hoping that the nightmares to come would be silent, at least, as I was already a bad sleeper then. So after seeing Sigourney Weaver save the day, the world and her skin, I went to bed. I wasn't too proud then, a bit scared from the movie, and a bit apprehensive of the nightmares that I was sure to be having.
Well, the only time I had a better sleep was under general anaesthetics. So my mind was made, I was going to watch horror movies to sleep properly.
And I've liked horror movies ever since: I'll cringe with a worrying kind of pleasure when Freddy Krueger attacks, and laugh like a maniac when that kid gets flattened and taken away on a stretcher in Final Destination 2. I'll get all the references on Scream and then some. I've bought most Stephen King's books, but really that's because I like his style. My teenage crisis was vented in closed rooms, curtains closed, with some good (or not) horror flicks, shrieking. Which hasn't prevented me from being traumatised by Jaws, and bitterly disappointed when I watched The exorcist for the second time, as an adult, because it just wasn't scary enough.
So I like gruesome. There is however one kind of gruesome I can't really handle, that's when it's just too bloody reality-based. No pun.
Cue Nip/Tuck. Yesterday, I got a much better insider's view than I was expecting. I'm not sure I really want to see blobs of silicon being inserted, just not swiftly enough, into buttock-al incisions. I'm not sure I want to know how those eyebrows can be lifted, cheekbones enhanced, ears flattened, breasts augmented or reduced, and worse. Actually I'm sure I don't want to know.
I think growing up has finally taken its toll. I'll have to switch over to Bergmanian and French movies. All talk. No action. Just fine.

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