Rest Stop ( story ) … Stephen King

It seems people vomit in Stephen King stories for reasons that seem unlikely in real life. One is a “whore”, albeit a pregnant one, being beaten by her boyfriend or husband. The other is protagonist John Dykstra after attacking the man to protect the woman.

Dykstra is a novelist with an alter ego, a “literary werewolf” named Rick Hardin, whom he conjures in order to do the deed, but the point is lost on me. Rest Stop is technically well-written; Stephen King guarantees as much; but the plot doesn’t really go anywhere.

my rating : 2 of 5

Rest Stop ( story ) ... Stephen King

audio review : A Bird In The Hand ( song ) … Ice Cube

The prelude; Big Bird from Sesame Street announcing he’s found an old book of poetry in his nest; is genius. The song, which, at just over two minutes with no chorus, is barely that, doesn’t disappoint from there.

It’s a soliloquy from a young dad who turns to illegal drug sales in order to make money. It’s also a diss to George Bush and other white political leaders, whom a lot of black people blame for their money problems.

my rating : 4 of 5

1991

audio review : A Bird In The Hand ( song ) ... Ice Cube

video review : House Of 1000 Corpses

video review : House Of 1000 Corpses

This movie is less about the House than its occupants; a family of sadistic killers that make The Addams look normal. The Corpses are the mummified remains of their victims, most of whom were tortured to death.

An unlucky four pay an inadvertent visit the night before Halloween after picking up a hitchhiker girl. The car suddenly breaks down, so the girl says she lives within walking distance and her brother has a tow truck.

There isn’t really much of a plot beyond that and there doesn’t need to be. The charm of this horror flick, which is directed, occasionally like a song video, by White Zombie frontman Rob Zombie, is its zany gory style.

my rating : 4 of 5

2003

video review : The Devil’s Rejects
video review : 3 From Hell

a dream I had about being late for class

It seems I was already late for class as I rushed my way up staircases and thru mostly empty hallways. I’d almost made it, in fact, when I came across Randy. He worked there as some sort of hall monitor. At least that’s what he was doing at the time. He’d been talking with maybe two or three other people who I assume also worked at the school.

“Do you have a late pass,” he asked, maybe not in those exact words, as I slowed to a stop. It was obvious he was only asking me because the other people were there with us. He and I were good friends and he wouldn’t have cared about me being late, but he couldn’t let them see that. “No,” I said to which he told me he had to hold me there.

That meant I would probably be suspended, so I told him I’d just left my counselor’s office or something and that they’d just changed my classes around or something, meaning I either wasn’t officially enrolled in the class or didn’t know I was enrolled in the class until moments ago. Whatever my lie was, it sounded a lot more coherent in the dream.

“Oh, okay,” he replied with a few other professional but amiable words before waving me on to class. It was all an act to save each other’s ass. That way he could let me go free without getting in trouble for it and I could be late without getting in trouble for it, though it seems I had already gotten in trouble for something else a day or few prior.

My “class” was just a few more steps down the hallway, maybe on the other side of a set of glass doors, except it was actually a sort of detention; a light alternaive to suspension. “They got me in here with all the bad kids,” I joked aloud just after walking in while holding the straps of my bookbag on my back. They laughed as I found myself a seat.

2020 ( May 26 )