Thanksgiving: Day 24

So this is a thing.

Thanksgiving: Day 11

Bor-Yugguth of the Empty Realm wishes you and yours a very Happy Thanksgiving.

Enjoy it. It shall be your last.

Thanksgiving: Day 10

terror bird what are you doing

The Master of Terror

What is the most terrifying piece of cinema ever created?

Was it Frankenstein? The Ring? Dawn of the Dead? The Blob? Godzilla? That episode of Trilogy of Terror with the doll? Some have voted Psycho or the Exorcist as two of the most frightening movies ever made. Alien is right up there near the top as its theme of infection and horrible death resonates with people.

But for my money most films are too transparent in their gore or attempts to shock to be truly frightening. Subtlety was often lost as film technology allowed creators to show in graphic detail what film-makers of the past could only hint at. While the immediate payoff and shock value rose the true fear, that of the unknown, waned. One over-looked "Master of Terror" who understood that horror usually requires some subtle direction is from Warner Bros. Studios and he worked exclusively in the animation department. That director is none other than Chuck Jones of Merrie Melodies and Looney Tunes fame.

Along with a crew of talented creators Chuck Jones helped produce for the movie theater market one of the scariest 7 minutes of film ever made, the animated short Claws For Alarm, featuring Sylvester the Cat and Porky Pig. Originally presented en masse to unsuspecting children during movie matinees in 1954 the film probably caused untold thousands in steam-cleaning bills to theater seats after each subsequent showing.

See for yourself at this link for those who can't detect the embedded video: Claws for Alarm

Claws For Alarm is actually a remake of Scaredy Cat (1948) and absolutely nails it by keeping the horror elements less obvious. Viewers may find the plot of Claws For Alarm familiar as later films have presented similar themes most famously the 1973 and 2011 creep-fests Don't Be Afraid of the Dark.

Lest We Forget

In the Brightest Day Aftermath mini-series The Search for Swamp Thing, John Constantine is puzzling out why the new Swamp Thing, this time around hosting the spirit of Alec Holland is acting like an Eco-terrorist and not the more neutral "Guardian of the Green" he is familiar with.

After returning from being exiled in space as an unintended consequence of an assassination attempt, ST attacked and killed almost all of those responsible for the attack. All of the deaths were ironic or horrific in nature a la The Specter but the following pages from Swamp Thing #63 (August 1987) are the most grisly.

Prior to "The Anatomy Lesson" the Swamp Thing was a character that things happened to. He was a spectator and often a victim. Afterwards he was a bit more pro-active and became less the warm and cuddly cabbage patch doll. This time the difference is that the spirit of Alec Holland might be a bit peeved at being murdered and is lashing out (even though Alec eventually found peace over the course of several stories). The result may be a nut-job spirit that needs to be exorcised from the Swamp Thing.

Satan's Concubines

The Picture of Dora Gray

All the evil the young model perpetrates in her life is reflected in the images of her on billboards. Her physical body and face untouched, eternally youthful on the exterior but rotting and festering within.

Killing Field

Here is the Chihuahua standing over the carnage of his favorite toys. He has about 10 of these cat toys scattered around the house. The toy bird chirps when moved so it keeps him occupied from time to time with something to play with.

Since the pooch isn't a chewer we don't worry about him ripping the toys open and swallowing the motion activated chirping device from the inside. He really prefers this toy over all the others.

On occasion he goes on a little Chihuahua rampage and stalks, attacks, "kills" and brings his victims home to the living room. To his little doggy brain these birds are representative of actual captured prey and in his view a really impressive ten minutes work. After his "kills" are gathered up and placed into a grouping he stands protectively over them and howls, proclaiming his victory and alpha-status as a provider for the pack.

It's a lot less amusing and cute at 3 a.m. in the morning.

What in the world

This image doesn't appear in the story but still, good on artist Jim Mooney.

Amazing Detective Cases #12 (May 1952).

True Horror, Part 3

My 1994 Geo Metro just passed 200,000 miles. It is now officially a zombie-car. If it dies anytime in the next 6 months I am hosed. Without transportation three people will lose their jobs and one of those three will also have to drop out of college.

How's that for scary?

This is not a dream

Lisa Blount, star of one of the greatest horror films ever, dead at 53.

GROG GROWS OWN TAIL

There's a great horror story to be found in this. And you can't beat those pre-graphic arts programs days of cutting, pasting and stenciling your own home-made ad copy.

From Teen-Age Hotrodders #4 (1963).

It's like my most fervent dream and greatest nightmare have both been made real

Hayley Mills in the grip of the Tentacle Men.

Originally found here.

True Horror, Part 2

French HIV awareness posters for an AIDS prevention campaign from several years ago.

Respect yourself. Take care of yourself.

Posted here a long time ago, and go here for the larger photos.

True Horror, Part 1

There is the impossible, fantastic, supernatural horror that thrills and excites and then there is the cruel, callous evil of bastards who know better whose actions and lies have real world implications of death, pain, misery and despair.

DDT sprayed from a TIFA (Todd Insecticidal Fog Applicator) around model Kay Heffernon to supposedly demonstrate it won't contaminate her food (a hot dog and coke), Jones Beach, New York. (Photo by George Silk, 1948)

From Google TIME-LIFE archive.

Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Orange Nut Roll R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn.

"In his house at R'lyeh the Orange Nut Roll waits dreaming." From H.P. Lovecraft, The Cult of C-Rat.

Where ever armies have marched and where ever crazed survivalist rednecks have squatted there remains behind scenes of devastation and horror. One of those horrors is the Orange Nut Roll.

A variety of nut rolls have long been a part of the soldier's meal while on the march. Historically they were a tasty treat to consume after eating the giant can of beef stew offered in C-Rations. The nut rolls were favored enough that they largely made a successful transition from the larger canned military rations to the lighter and more compact MRE or Meal, Ready-To-Eat of modern field supplies.

Anywhere a group of soldiers have gathered the evidence of their meals is left behind and used by the local population. The MRE was designed to be 100% useful in the field. The boxes, filled with sand or dirt, are packed tightly in a case and can slide into a sleeve. The packaging is water-resistant and filled with sand can be used to make bunkers, furniture and in some places in the world entire living quarters. The plastic pouches are used for storage and shingles on a roof. The cans are used for cooking or beaten down into knives or other useful items.

The exception being the Orange Nut Roll. The ONG is dry and has the consistency of a shoe. The taste resembles not so much an orange, but the wooden crate the oranges may have originally been shipped in. Fire that melts an 81mm mortar leaves the Orange Nut Roll unharmed. Insects, vultures and other opportunistic scavengers ignore and treat a found Orange Nut Roll as they would a piece of slate or length of bark they came across while wandering the forest. In places where the local population eagerly, desperately receives the leftovers of a soldier's meal either in food to feed their families or the useful packaging to build shelters the Orange Nut Roll is thrown away or refused. Entire rebellions have arisen in native populations because all they are given to win their hearts and minds are Orange Nut Roll packages from visiting soldiers. Give an Orange Nut Roll to a starving homeless person in any metropolitan city and they will sneer and possibly assault you.

There are beaches in Subic Bay covered in slowly rusting cans of discarded Orange Nut Rolls. Oddly shaped, orange hued rocks cover the sand and ocean floor in the region as Orange Nut Rolls tumble free from cans that disintegrate against the forces of nature. But the eternal majesty of the sea and wind are unable to breakdown the Orange Nut Roll. Like lava builds new land off the shores of Hawaiian islands so do Orange Nut Rolls serve as the foundation for reefs and future land bridges across the water. So imagine what one of those things, either in the old rounded or newer yet still inedible flat toaster pastry forms will do to the insides of a human.

Future archeologists will undoubtedly use as provenance of ancient battlefields the layers of uneaten Orange Nut Rolls that like ancient honey found in Egyptian tombs, will show no signs of rot or decomposition. Unlike 5000 year old honey though, the Orange Nut Roll is largely inedible as it comes fresh off the production line.

Boy God

Roco, Ang Batang Bato (aka Stone Boy, Boy God) from 1983.

Sheer Horror

You couldn't pull any of this off in the new rebooted Trek universe. Not because it is dated and silly, but because if the Space Hippies took over the new universe cafeteria they'd get the crap beaten out of them on principle and dumped out an airlock into the void.

Mysta of the Moon - Chapter 7

Planet Comics #41 (March 1946) is the first issue with Mysta of the Moon specifically featured on the cover. Her humanoid robot servant also makes an appearance on the cover. As is typical the cover has almost nothing in common with the interior story. In this case the only similarity between the cover and story is the robot crashing through the wall.

This chapter of Mysta continues the back story of mankind rebuilding their society after the War-God/Alien Mars nearly destroyed civilization. The villain is again deformed and evil and has the goal of destroying everything he can while using his weird fetish to accomplish destruction. This time the weapon of choice is worthy of a Clive Barker story and has less to do with phallus shapes as shown on the cover and more with reanimation and horror.

Beware of the dog that thinks

Baxter (1989).