The Reason for the Season

This graphic design association, AIGA, sponsored a toy design and remake ...event for Christmas. Basically you could make a toy or redesign one and put it up for sale. One of my coworkers decided to enter. Instead of making a toy, he decided to remake one. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you "And That's What Christmas is all About, Charlie Brown:"


Here's a view from the top:



You could say it's a meditation on childhood innocence and the evil lurking slightly below the surface or an ironic take on the Norwegian Black Metal church burnings. Or you could just say it was a funny way to mess with Charlie Brown.

How About a Little Fire, Scarecrow?

Ever had a movie scare you even before you've seen it? In the middle school circles I ran in, the movie Dark Night of the Scarecrow was a topic of much discussion, so much so that I knew just about everything about the plot years before I saw it. In this made for TV movie, a group of angry redneck townspeople, led by a sinister mailman blame Bubba, a kindly mentally challenged guy for hurting a little girl and go to his house to deliver some vigilante justice. Bubba's mom tells him to play "the hiding game," so he hides in a scarecrow. The gang finds him and shoots him, then they are picked off one by one by an unseen force after seeing a creepy scarecrow.


Dark Night of the Scarecrow was recently reissued on DVD, so I decided to face my fears. Hell, I did it with SSSSSSS, so why not give this one a shot.

Holy crap, I can't believe this was on regular old TV, for little kids and old ladies and whatnot to just stumble upon. Everything about it works, lots of atmosphere, actual characterization, and you're constantly wondering who is really knocking off the gang. That little girl who keeps singing all creepily? Bubba's mother? Is it one of the gang trying to ensure their secret stays secret? Or is it Bubba the scarecrow back from the dead? And hey, are they implying that the mailman is a pedophile? Could you do that on TV back then?

The weird part is, even though I never saw the movie, the shot of Bubba's frightened eyes seen through the holes in the scarecrow's face before getting shot has been burned in my brain somehow. I guess all that playground talk soaked in.

The last five minutes or so are some pretty creepy stuff, even if one of the victims is being menaced by a tractor and never, you know, just steps out of the way. Even discounting that, the final shots made me recheck that all the doors were locked, even though I have done nothing to anger any mentally challenged scarecrows that I can recall.

It helps that scarecrows, like mummies, are inherently creepy, even though they're not the most mobile creatures, and most people won't have the opportunity to stumble across a real one. Zombies and vampires have had their time in the spotlight, evil scarecrows will be the next big thing. Trust me on this one.

So yeah, use the Netflix and get this one in time for Halloween. Now if I could only get my hands on a copy of The Legend of Lizzie Borden, my childhood terror re-viewing would be complete.

The Horrors of the Antique Store, Part Two

What better way to kick off a month of horror than with a trip to the antique store? As everyone knows, while placid on the outside, these places contain dolls that will wake up in the middle of the night to steal your soul, cursed Native American relics and artifacts that will hypnotize your family into committing unspeakable acts of horror. It was only at great personal risk to my very soul that I was able to take the following crappy phone pictures to share with you, the reading public:



Wow. that lobster/Georgia O'Keefe flower ashtray is making me feel a little funny. Is it hot in here?



I think Tricky Dick's eyes are following me.




Nothing bad can happen to us in here if we just concentrate on the beautiful, delicious ham.



RUN! JUST RUN!

In Olden Days

Have you ever thought, "You know what, things were a lot better in the old days. People had more manners and the kids weren't all LOLing their Ipods and the twitters all the time. Back then there were rules, and everyone respected the rules. We'd all come together as one to fight Nazis and plant victory gardens. Yeah, those really were the days."

You know what will cure you of those notions with a quickness? A trip to an antique store. I'm a veteran of those dusty old places. My parents dragged me to so many of them that driving up to North Carolina 20 years since they drove me up on vacation, I was able to remember perfectly each one on the way to their house, and could even remember the scale of boringness of each establishment. Between garage sales and antique stores, my parent's house was full of olde tyme relics.

Growing up these places represented nothing but boredom to me. I mean why spend $100 on some old fashioned radio when that money could be used as a down payment on a stand up Donkey Kong Jr. game to put in the garage?

However, now that I'm old I've been known to check around the odd antique mall, even though they contain creepy dolls that will steal your soul in the middle of the night. Part of the coolness about these places is that you never know exactly what you'll find. Perhaps that Husker Du boardgame your mom threw out. Maybe something haunted, or a bad-ass cane that turns into a sword. Or perhaps the most disturbing painting I've ever seen.



Seriously, what the fuck? At some point, someone was sitting around and thought, "I've got the perfect idea for a painting." Then he (and I'm assuming it was a he) had to actually take the time to paint it. At some point after that, someone else had to see it and say, "That painting really speaks to me. The way the angry golfer is pasting his wife in the chops for bringing him some drinks is just hilarious. I'll put it in the den."

Now it sits in an antique mall in Jacksonville, Florida, waiting for someone else to buy it. Perhaps you? Just don't invite me over.