Eyeball Soup for the Soul

For years, horror has been regarded as the lowest form of entertainment. Cultural elites believe horror is a playground for mankind's basest nature, where pubescent boys indulge their appetite for bloodletting and jiggling boobs. Church fathers regard it as a refuge of corruption where the innocent can be lured to sin by Satanism. Other people just think it's gross.

Well, I'm here to tell you today that horror can make you a better person. For lurking within horror's black heart are ethics, humanity, hope, intellect and wisdom. You have to know where to look. Every genre has its own tropes, and it is in these ideas and cliches that horror's morality can be perceived. Here are the most common and what we can learn from them. They are simple moral lessons that we often forget.  

1. Characters Questing for Forbidden Knowledge bring Doom

This is usually how all the trouble starts. It can be somebody delving into evil tomes that should not be read by human eyes, a common theme in H.P. Lovecraft. It can be scientists experimenting in realms of knowledge without considering the consequences, a theme commonly seen in Atomic Age horror. However, it's not just in the concept that characters investigate things they should just leave alone. How many times have you stared at a movie screen and willed a character not to go into that house, not to go outside to see where the dog went, or just DON'T OPEN THAT DOOR!?

The reckless attitude of horror characters can best be shown in the 1999 piece a' shit, Bats. When asked why he created a race of malevolent, super-powered bats, their creator answers, “Because I'm a scientist! That's what we do! We make things better!”  

The Lesson: Curiosity Eviscerated the Human
The 21st century promises any number of humanity-threatening disasters, thanks to mankind's own ingenuity, inventiveness and curiosity. Millions of us could die as the result of global warming. Or self-aware robots. Or self-replicating nanobots. Or, of course, the old favourite nuclear annihilation.

Horror asks us to consider why we're researching creepy stuff like crowd-control microwave cannons. It asks us to consider the implications of programming artificial intelligence that can learn. It asks us to think about the far-reaching consequences of building a nuclear reactor in, say, a place with lots of earthquakes and accompanying tsunamis.

Are some forms of progress worth the danger and loss in human life and dignity. At the very least, horror asks us to proceed with caution. So, to the scientist who is currently working on the project to invent the big red button that destroys the universe (and I know you're out there somewhere), please give some sober thought to inventing something actually helpful, like cars with sewage engines or a cure for pop music.  

2. The Skeptic

"Mulder, there's no such thing as stuff."
A stock character in the horror genre is the skeptic. Oftentimes, the protagonist begins the story as a skeptic. From a story perspective, the skeptic is an agent of the world that audiences find familiar, a world that is unpopulated by horrible, incomprehensible things. The skeptic sympathetically latches to old beliefs about reality even if something overtly supernatural kills somebody. They constantly try to convince other characters that they are safe. Their single most common line of dialogue is some permutation of, “There has to be a rational explanation for all this.”

Or, as Dr. Roger Fleming from The Lost Skeleton of Cadavera says, “Ranger Brad, I'm a scientist, I don't believe in anything.”

 As appealing as the Skeptic's arguments can be, unfortunately they are wrong wrong wrong. The monsters are real and they are dangerous. In order for Horror protagonists to deal with their new reality, they must stop listening to the skeptics and confront the problem. As for the skeptics themselves, they frequently discover the hard way that vampires are real.  

The Lesson: Don't Cling to Old Ideas if they are Proven Incorrect

I would like you to think about your least-favourite politician. How many times have you cursed this politician as being evil? Stupid? Corrupt? A liar? Have you ever been watching them speak and turned them off because their words make you furious? Have you ever shared an article about what a bad person this politician is with friends on Facebook and felt better as likes and sympathetic comments pour in?

Yes, you have. Everybody does it. Your least-favourite politician represents a threat to your belief system. The anger you feel is the result of cognitive dissonance, the tiny voice in your head that whispers that you are wrong. We all hate this feeling and when we are presented with information that contradicts us, we spurn the messenger, downplay the information, or seek comfort with like-minded people.

We may be right to do so, because sometimes other people really are deceitful or incorrect. However, somewhere in your life, right this instant, a there is something in your life that is making you unhappy. This issue may be difficult to see at first, but if you need hints, you need only think about stuff that makes you angry or tearful. Work from there. What is your unhappy truth that you won't admit? It can be causing depression. It might even be killing you, such as if you are a smoker, alcoholic, or over-eater. Ignoring it isn't helping. Identify it. Your proverbial vampires can still hurt you, but to slay them, you have to know that they exist.  

3. Isolation
More than any other genre, horror isolates its protagonists. This isolation can be physical, such as the uncharted wilderness cave of The Descent. It can be social, such as when characters seek help from indifferent or hostile authorities, or worse yet, authorities who are in league with the baddies, such as Body-Snatchers!

The characters must know that no help is coming, not God, not the cavalry. If help is on the way, you can bet that it will be thwarted. Even when the protagonists ARE the cavalry, such as in Aliens, they will soon find themselves beyond help and hope. In that movie, the Colonial Marines, the universe's ultimate badasses, find themselves reduced to whiny, helpless children when their dropship crashes. Game over, man!

The Lesson: Only You can Solve Your Problems
Life is our horror flick. When it comes to our personal issues, we are as alone as any horror character. Remember that hidden, wicked truth about yourself that is lurking within your personality? Nobody can confront that issue but you. A therapist, counsellor or priest might assist you, but only you can actually take the steps to solve your problem.

Self help-types agree:  
The most important aspect of taking responsibility for your life is to acknowledge that your life is your responsibility. No one can live your life for you. You are in charge. No matter how hard you try to blame others for the events of your life, each event is the result of choices you made and are making. “Gatekeeper”, By S Miriam Clifford

Once you have seen your truth, deal with it. You will take steps closer to the person you want to be.  And when your life fades to black and humanity's ultimate monster, death, creeps upon your soul, you will not be the cringing idiot who claws at his deathbed and screams, "I'm not ready!"  You'll be able to grunt something awesome like, "Take me, ya sonofabitch.  I had a fuckin' good run!"   

4. The Crazy Plan that Might Just Work
Horror monsters are usually immune to conventional problem solving. If dealing with them were as simple as negotiation or shooting them, they wouldn't be scary. Luckily, they usually come with disastrous heels Achilles'. While common in other genres, a Crazy Plan that Might Just Work is almost required in any horror story.

This exploitable weakness might be as simple as a vulnerability to silver. Or perhaps the portal to the other dimension can be sealed if the streams of the proton accelerator packs are crossed. Or maybe a virus can be downloaded into the invader's navigation system. Whatever the solution, it possesses the power to completely neutralize the baddy and its minions.  

The Lesson: Every Problem Has a Solution
The message here is one of hope.  The characters of horror movies often best the vilest, most violent and supernatural opponents the human imagination can dream.  Their problems are so much worse than yours, yet they succeed.  Every problem you face also has a solution for somebody clever enough to see it and brave enough to use it.

To quote Stan Rogers, singing from beyond the grave:  
Rise again, rise again—
though your heart it be broken Or life about to end. 
No matter what you've lost, be it a home, a love, a friend, 
Like the Mary Ellen Carter, rise again.

 5. The Misunderstood Monster
The last few years have seen a parade of movies involving dead little girls annoying protagonists with their antics, only to have the hero help them solve their murders. The Sixth Sense, Stir of Echoes and What Lies Beneath come to mind. They are a common manifestation of another stock character, the Misunderstood Monster.

For me, the most memorable Misunderstood Monster of my childhood was the Pale Green Pants with Nobody Inside them, the antagonist of Dr. Seuss' story, “What was I Scared Of?” It's silly now, of course, but I know there are more than a few kids out there who found those pants terrifying. In the story, a hero of indeterminate species constantly meets the spooky pants in frightening locales, becoming progressively unnerved. Finally, he shouts for deliverance, only to discover that the Pants are terrified of him:  

 I never heard such whimpering 
And I began to see 
That I was just as strange to them 
As they were strange to me 

  In the case of the Pants, they become friends. Other monsters offer assistance or information to heroes after they discover the nature of the story's real enemy.  

The Lesson: Losers Make Loyal Friends
Professor Steven Reiss lists 16 basic desires that motivate all people.  Amongst them is Acceptance, the human need to be liked and understood by other people.

Different people rank their desires in different order of importance, but chances are you know a socially inept person who needs Acceptance in a bad way.  If you can practice tolerance and patience when dealing with these misunderstood freaks, you can win loyal allies.

If you are a misunderstood freak yourself, you can always hope that somebody reading this post reaches out to you.  In the meantime, there's always porn.

6. An Asshole Screws Everybody Over, Inviting Unfavourable Comparison to the Monsters
Seen many zombie apocalypse movies? The best ones go like this: in the first act, the heroes run from the zombies. In the second act, they have found a sanctuary from the undead hordes that allows them to talk, love and argue in safety. While the zombies remain a threat, the heroes can deal with them.

Then what happens at the beginning of the third act? An Asshole or Assholes screw everybody over. Mister Cooper refuses to open the door, then tries to take the gun away (Night of the Living Dead). Or Assholes on motorcycles let zombies into the mall (Dawn of the Dead). Or an Asshole-scientist is feeding soldiers to a zombie to make it tame, and when his faux-pas is discovered, Asshole-soldiers initiate a bloodbath (Day of the Dead).

In short, while the zombies are dangerous, it is the conflicts between humans that destroy the community of survivors.  When considering the horror genre in general, Perhaps Ellen Ripley says it best after company-man Burke locks her in a room with some Aliens in an unsuccessful attempt to cover his own ass:   

"I don't know which species is worse.  You don't see them fucking each other over for a goddamn percentage."   

The Lesson: Play Nice and Share
Last summer the world experienced the Occupy Protests.  Large groups of people camped in public spaces everywhere to protest wealth inequality, amongst other things.  One of their slogans was the phrase, “We are the 99%”, referring to figures that the top 1% of income earners are hogging all the wealth while everybody else is left with nothing. If you are unemployed, broke, or suffering from a disease you can't afford to treat, perhaps you know what they're talking about.

They have a point.  Economic inequality would seem to be a bad thing.  Places with low economic inequality include Europe and Canada.  Compare that to places where inequality reigns, places like Botswana, Bolivia and the Central African Republic.  Would you rather live in a place that has peace and prosperity, or a place that has old trucks careening through the streets, packed to the brim like a clown car full of AK-47-wielding child soldiers?

Most people are not serial killers.  However, we can still be monsters.  Like that Asshole in the zombie movie, we become monsters when we follow selfish ends that harm other people, even indirectly.  When our community is harmed, we are harmed.  And someday, like a zombie horde, our selfish actions may bite us in the ass.  The Romanovs were probably kicking themselves over that whole greed thing as they were being murdered by communists.

Right now, people all over the world are suffering, not just in the first world.  It's easy to dismiss these people as “lazy” or “drunks” or “criminals” or “terrorists”.  And you would be right to do so, because amongst the ranks of the poor, there are many layabouts, drunks, criminals, and a smattering of anarchists.  But a lot of them are not pretending.  Those people, right now, are hungry, homeless, in pain and dying.

Personally, I advocate progressive taxation. But that's just me and those of you who are a little more libertarian at heart may find that distasteful. So here's another idea: charity.

Are you a millionaire? Or maybe even a just a half-millionaire? Somewhere in your life, you are considering a purchase you really don't need.  Instead of a second summer-home, maybe a church charity beckons.  Instead of a new yacht, some starving students out there would really appreciate you setting up a scholarship fund.  Instead of buying that Hummer, rush down to the soup kitchen passing out $100 bills and giggling like an idiot.  Spare that brother a dime.

You might actually find it spiritually rewarding. You'll get pats on the back from your contemporaries and you may help avert a communist revolution.  Also, God will give you a personal thumbs up upon entry into heaven.  Everybody wins.

 7. The Horror is Not Over

Any lover of Horror cinema knows well the tiresome scene that happens at the end of hundreds of movies.  It's the one where we see the monster's corpse and it opens its eyes.  Or we see a bunch of baby crocodiles and O noes, what happens when those crocs grow up to be as big as the last one (Lake Placid). Or, surprise-surprise, Freddy returns for one more fatality.

You're supposed to be scared, see, because the scary stuff is still out there, man.  This horror-standard has, no doubt, caused many a viewer to lie awake in bed with the light on, fretting and jumping at night noises.   

The Lesson: Evil Can Never Truly be Destroyed
We got that sonofabitch, Adolf Hitler, the most evil man ever.  Huzzah for us, we sent a murderous madman to hell.

Now we just have to forget that the evil Joseph Stalin never paid for his crimes.  We also have to forget about how Mao Zedong ravaged China.  Now forget that hundreds of bloodthirsty dictators have emerged since 1945 in countries all over the world, bathing the earth in blood.

But we cannot forget.  For evil still lurks in the heart of our species.  Evil dwells in the sneer of a miserly employer, the cackle of a snobby country-club madam and the baton of a racist cop.  Evil will exist as long as there are humans.

What does that mean for you? That's a complicated question, and it's up to you to answer. I will ask you these questions to help you ponder. What is evil? And, does somebody you know view you as evil? Are you okay with that?

***
That's enough observation for now. Every horror story has a moral, even if it's drowning under gallons of blood. Next time you pop in a crappy horror flick, ask yourself what it's trying to tell you.

Or don't. Hey, look at the naked woman getting killed!

http://pharoahphobia.blogspot.ca/

Review of "The Haunting of Hill House" by Shirley Jackson

"The Haunting of Hill House" is a novel by Shirley Jackson, published in 1959. It was adapted for film twice, in 1963 and 1999 under the name "The Haunting". It's been called a haunted house story. Right now I'm trying to think of a clever reason why it's not, but I'm drawing a blank. It's just different, okay???

The story follows what can only be called a neurotic loser, Eleanor Vance. Because her life is so lonely and friendless, she agrees to spend a summer in a reputedly haunted house. Dr. Montague, her host, has invited several people with experiences with the supernatural. Only Eleanor and a flakey beatnik named Theodora actually show. Also joining them is Luke, the future-owner of the house. Together, the four become fast friends and endure the ghostly tortures of the unhappy mansion in the name of science.

Here's what the book does very well: terror. (There's a difference between horror and terror. Terror is the dread that anticipates something scary happening while horror is the fright at the actual scary event.) The supernatural terrors of Hill House are not equalled in many books or movies. This terror is established in the book's opening paragraphs with the brilliant phrase, "...and whatever walked there, walked alone." When you identify with Eleanor, you feel acute dread at something invisible and malign looking for her. I recommend it as a how-to for other writers interested in terrorizing their audience. Remember, o ye horrorists, that the spook you describe is never as scary as the spook that an audience can imagine.

What makes this book different as well is the dialogue. The house's occupants speak in the style of sophisticated socialites. Eleanor, Theodora, Luke and the Doctor are all clearly intelligent and they are always playfulling razzing each other even in the midst of blackest terror. It adds a note of authenticity to the story that makes the moments of fear more surreal for the characters and more real for the audience.

Here's my only complaint with the book. Eleanor. She sucks. The story is told from her perspective and we are constantly offered insight into her deepest thoughts. She starts the story as a friendless milksop with an overactive imagination. From there she is robbed of her few admirable qualities by Hill House as she starts losing her marbles. By mid-novel, I found her constant neurotic inner monologue to be irritating rather than scary. I stopped caring about her as a character. By the end I was begging Hill House to put this poor slob out of her misery.

This is a lesson in character identification when you're trying to create your protagonist, you writers. When you're crafting a protagonist, you have to give them at least one admirable quality. This character has to be not only realistic and therefore easy to sympathize with, but the readers also need a reason WHY they would want to sympathize. This reason has to be a personality trait that makes him or her better than the other characters.

This personality trait doesn't even have to be that admirable. People like James Bond for some reason. Why? Because he's a way more effective spy than everybody else: he's an efficient killer and he always gets the girl. But if you really think about it, why would you ever want to know a guy like that? He's kind of a sociopath. Yet millions of people worldwide continue to identify with him.

In the case of Eleanor Vance, she starts the story lame, but you can see her vivid imagination and will to make her life better despite her past hardships. You want to like her. But then, her imagination is turned against her by the evil will of Hill House and her desire to change her life is subverted. With these qualities removed, Eleanor Vance is just a crazy-lady and it is very frustrating to be inside her head.

The Haunting of Hill House is a masterpiece in a way, but I cannot give it an extremely high recommendation because of problems with Eleanor. I still maintain that it is a must-read for anybody interested in horror because of the terrifying way that Jackson handles the spirits of Hill House. But because I was asking myself, "Why am I reading this?" near the end, it honestly breaks my heart to give it:
3 1/2 doors that shut on their own out of 5

By the way, I loved the 1963 movie adaptation of this book. For once. the movies did it right. The terror of the book is captured perfectly and the majority of Eleanor's insane inner-prattle is omitted. Go rent it!

http://pharoahphobia.blogpot.com/

Review of "Insomnia" by Stephen King

Insomnia is a novel by Stephen King, one of many. King is one of the most successful novelists in history. He is maligned as a "popular writer" by literature-jerks. Yet despite their efforts, his books sell and sell and sell and get adapted for the screen and sell some more.

I also malign him, but for different reasons. I always enjoy the beginnings of his novels. I always get an inspired hope that this is going to be a great book. Then, suddenly, he drops the writerly ball. Either the scary thing turns out to be a dumb idea or the book wanders and meanders. His endings can be mindblowingly bad.

And yet I still keep reading. As each story ends, I emerge from it like a starved World War One soldier from a trench, my mind scarred and traumatized, the words "Never Again" wheezing from my quivering lips. But then I pick up another one, hoping that maybe, just maybe, this book will be everything the beginning promises.

Why do I keep doing this to myself? Because his prose is great. His dialogue is great. His setups are great. When he does it right, his monsters are frightening in unique ways. He is creepy like no other writer.

Okay. I got distracted there. This is supposed to be a review of Insomnia, not an anti-Stephen King rant. Insomnia is fantastically written, filled with superb dialogue. His protagonist, Ralph, is a wonderful character: old fashioned and quietly masculine in a way that begs the reader's sympathy. The suspense is wonderful. However, the supernatural world into which Ralph ascends isn't scary, nor really that interesting to me.
3 references to The Dark Tower and It out of 5

You know what else bugs me about Stephen King? I get the sense that he's making it up as he goes along. Yes, all writers do this. I could just have my head up my ass on this one, but I detect that he dislikes thinking about story structure, so he doesn't do it. He thinks of cool ideas, imagines awesome ways to get them rolling and then he starts writing without knowing how it's going to end. It would certainly explain why he rambles and his endings often lack lustre.

Also, he's a successful writer and I'm not. How dare he?

http://pharoahphobia.blogspot.com/

Legend-haunted Saskatchewan

I was once riding a bus from Saskatoon to Edmonton. In my lap was a book of short stories inspired by The Shadow Over Innsmouth, by H.P. Lovecraft. After reading a particularly good one, I stared out the window at the summertime fields, imagining the rotting seaport of Innsmouth with its shuffling denizens. I imagined Lovecraft's Massachusetts: an ancient land with malicious things lurking in lonely places, a land where civilization is clapboarded onto a wild landscape and unimaginable creatures writhe at its edges. Here's a nice one of Innsmouth taken from darkmartin.net.

It is a compelling setting, one which easily lends itself to horror. Other writers have their own horror settings. Stephen King has his Maine. The early horror writers had scores of tumble-down European castles, mansions and abbeys for their ghosts to populate, settings which are now old-hat. But what about my home province, Saskatchewan?

This I pondered as the scenery whizzed past. I tried to see why Saskatchewan was scary. I imagined dark things lurking under the trees, creatures hiding in the fields, strangers gone missing, unspeakable acts committed in anonymity amongst the farmhouses.

I couldn't. All I could see was beauty. Everything was pleasant, canola was blooming, pollen was in the air, the sky was blue and golden. Outside, I knew a warm wind was tickling the aspens and if you strolled one of the dusty grid roads, curious people would wave from their trucks as they drove past. This land is inherently friendly.

Since then, I've been on a mission to find the scary in my province and mostly been frustrated. The scary is minimal or hackneyed. Nobody needs another Indian-burial-ground-ghost or squeal-like-a-pig-hillbilly troubling their literature. There are no abandoned castles here.

So after several years, here's what I've come up with. Rather than explain it to you in rant form, I'll use flash fiction. In no particular order, this is why Saskatchwan is scary:

1.
The orange farm light in the distance didn't seem to be getting any bigger. Daniel trudged along the bleak road. No moon lit his way, but the snow reflected cold starlight. The stars blazed innummerable and white above him. Cold wind blasted from them and stole his breath.

Daniel turned to shelter his bare face from the gust. The wind rattled the leafless poplars at the roadside and hissed in the snow. It leaked through his parka and chilled his legs under his jeans. He found his breath and stared to the indescernable horizon. He could no longer see his Toyota.

The wind passed over the wood and vanished onto the prairie, leaving figid silence. It blew still, but in a deadly whisper. The snow scrunched under his boots. In the dark, where his car should be, something black on the road moved.

He shut his eyes and spun back toward the farm light. He shielded his face, muttering, "I didn't see anything." But when he heard the echo of his snowy boots from the woods, the trees resounded another set of footfalls.
---
2.
The old wood creaked under Greta's step as her eyes adjusted. She was on a dance floor speckled with mouse droppings. An old stage loomed before her. Light spilling through broken panes revealed a pile of wheat husks at the far end of the hall where some farmer had stored grain. A podium was toppled against a dusty upright piano.

Here, decades ago, her great grandfather had tuned his violin. Her grandmother sat at the piano and her great aunt strummed a guitar in one of these overturned chairs. Where she stood, a vanished community had waltzed and jigged. It was a place of warmth and laughter.

The hall was not warm now. It was damp and musty. The only music was sung by distant meadow larks.

The roof creaked and settled in the prairie breeze. Greta rubbed her bare arms, flattening goose pimples. She felt like an intruder. She wanted to leave, but did not.

Instead, curiosity drew her to the piano. She lifted the lid from the keys. Real ivory shone in the dim. With a thumb, she played middle C. Her eyes widened. The note was in tune. Her fingers traced the first melody that came to mind, "The Blue Danube", each note well-tempered. She stopped when she felt something clammy clap on her shoulder.

A hollow voice asked, "Would you like to dance?"
---
3.
It wanders into town at night. When I first saw it in my headlights, I thought it was a bear. But giant eyes, round as the full moon, reflected back at me. It shuffled into the ditch and vanished into the endless forest.

When I see it, it makes no sound. It travels from house to house, wanders the landfill, opens sheds and outhouses and just looks. It rummages through piles of trash by the road to the airport and watches children on the playground swing set if they stay after dark.

It haunts certain people the most. It follows Wendy Bear every night, loping just beyond her vision as she staggers home from the hotel, drunk. It peeps in the Delorme's trailer window and watches Norman beat his wife. When I found that baby skeleton lying in the woods, it was crouched on a mound of moss in a nearby strand of jackpine.

I don't know if anybody else can see it. If they can, they don't tell anybody. Nobody tells anybody anything here. They just live with it.

I would leave town if I could, but I don't have the money. I never will. And every night as I light my glass pipe in the dark, I see the lighter's flame shining in its round eyes as it stares through my window.
---
That's what I've come up with. I'm sure this is not an exhaustive list. Dear readers, what do you find scary about Saskatchewan? I invite you to share. Relate a tale, post some flash fiction, or give me a mini-essay. Leave it in a comment, e-mail me or Facebook me. If I get at least three responses, I'll make a separate post and publish it here. Fire up your creative brains and let's hear it. Hokay? Hokay.

http://pharoahphobia.blogspot.com

The Necromantic States of America

The last couple of years I have been working on a speculative alternate reality which it occurs to me I have not yet discussed here. It has been called, until recently, "A History of Southron Necromancy" but I am now thinking of as "The Necromantic States of America". It seems to be very important to mention it now because one of my short stories which is set in this universe is going to be published soon.

It all started one day when I was watching the news. I don't even remember what it was that I saw, but it once again started me fuming about the American South. My brothers and sisters, that place is seriously fucked. It's a land of delusion where fools command millions and ignorance is worshipped. It's a place where Christian values have been warped into a cult of greed and intolerance. I thought to myself, could The South get any more insane? At that moment I began to concieve of a way that it could.

I've had a soft spot for the American Civil War since I was a teenager. It is natural that my point of historical divergence should begin there. When I was a lad, I had a fascination with plucky underdogs so my sympathies lay with the Confederacy. I subscribed to the romantic view of The South as a land of free men invaded by a bully-nation of bankers and factory drudges, defending their homes and loved ones with chivalry and honor. I made the common mistake of believing that every Southerner was like Robert E. Lee. After a bit of historical research later in life I realized, "Holy shit. Those guys were a bunch of assholes!"

Side note: I sure am talking a lot of shit about the South, aren't I? Apologies. I could defend my viewpoint eloquently if I wished to explain my harsh words, but this post is not supposed to be about the history of Antebellum America. If you are filled with righteous zeal by my angry words, I would ask that you do a little rudimentary historical research on the years 1849-1860 and you'll see that the South had it fucking coming. Screw you Jeff Davis, Roger Taney, William Walker, Franklin Pierce, Millard Fillmore, Edmund Ruffin and John C. Calhoun!

Anyway, my history is an examination of what would have happened if the decadent slave-economy of the South had survived the Civil War. The immediate problem with such an idea is that slavery collapsed for a reason: it sucked compared to free-market capitalism. It gave great wealth to slaveholders and left poor Southerners poor. I believe the subjugation of America's blacks could never have survived into the 20th Century, that it would lead to widespread rioting and slave revolts and perhaps foreign invasion. Mechanization in the North was already beginning to outproduce slave labour by the start of the war.

The only way the slave economy could survive is if slaves were better, ie. they were cheaper, worked harder and had no will. Let's see here, what does that remind me of? ZOMBIES, THAT'S WHAT!

In 1860, an Oxford-educated and enlightened slaveholder from Mississippi named Bernard Welles begins a series of conversations with his slave Abigail. Abigail has been in the family for two generations, originally imported from Saint-Domingue. From Abigail, Welles begins to learn about African religion and Voudon, including the craft of raising the dead. After his plantation is sacked by Union marauders, he calls upon his educated friends the world over and forms the Initiates of Anubis, a society dedicated to saving the South from the invading Yankees and using the new art of necromancy to destroy the evil of slavery. After the war, necromancy becomes a state institution, indespensible in manufacturing, agriculture, the military and the home.

I rarely do anything unless I am burning with some sort of passion. For this project it is anger. I see the hypocrisy of so many Christians living in the South and other rural areas of North America. The Bible is very clear on certain matters: Thou Shalt not Kill, for instance. "It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God", sez Jesus, for another. Jesus wanted you to give up your worldly possessions and live the pure, non-violent life of an ascetic. Period.

Yet our world is crowded with pious Christians who believe that making money is a holy duty, who believe criminals ought to be killed and that God needs to be defended by taking the lives of unbelievers in other countries. There are millions of them out there right now, deluded fools who believe that attending church = heaven, that God is rewarding them with material wealth. Why? Because that's how their parents and grandparents lived.

The Southron gentleman of the Confederate States of America in 1990 lives on his plantation with his extended family and household of undead servants. His most recent servant, Natalya, trained as a housekeeper, is prized because she is white. She died in Russia and was smuggled to the Confederacy aboard a freighter on ice. Reanimated dead work his fields. The gentleman's son drives to the city every day in a pickup truck, which is built by zombies, to learn necromancy at the Society of the Black Roses. The Society is housed in a building near the airport, seaport and manufacturing zone which is surrounded by fortifications and undead soldiers to keep unemployed ruffians and revolutionaries out. Every Sunday the gentleman attends church, where the pastor reminds him that King David was a sorcerer and Jesus raised his friend Lazarus from the dead. After church he puts on a polo shirt and his extended family gathers in the compound for a barbeque. There he earnestly thanks Jesus for his bounty and they all chow down, secure in the knowledge that the Pearly Gates await them. This is his old-time religion and no power on earth can convince him otherwise. This, despite the fact that any citizen in any other country on earth recognizes that he is an unholy demon-blight upon the world who, according to his own religion, is going to hell.

Okay, I have to stop now. I just deleted a paragraph of angry jackassery about how much I loathe hypocritical Christians. Nobody needs to read that. Anyway, you get the idea, I'm sure. That is merely the inspiration behind the universe I've created. Each story deals with a different issue, particular point in Southron history or aspect of the effect of necromancy upon the world.

The publication of "Rosie's Knife" is an important first step in my writing career. If I can publish more short stories, the chances of releasing them in an anthology later is increased. What's more, my latest screenplay also occurs in The Confederate States of America in 1991. If I can create sufficient buzz around the universe, the screenplay stands a significantly greater chance of being noticed.

So brace yourselves, readers. The History of Southron Necromancy will unfold before you. (insert rebel yell here)

http://pharoahphobia.blogspot.com/

Review of "Casting the Runes" by M.R. James

I've read some great horror fiction in my time. I thought I was in touch with horror. Then a friend sent me a copy of Casting the Runes, a collection of short fiction by M. R. James. I then realized I was missing an essential piece of the genre.



James' style is unique. The target audience of the stories is obviously educated men from a century ago. Each tale is told from the perspective of a university alumnus with a passion for history. Usually this alumnus is beckoned somewhere he ought not to be by his curiosity, attracting the attention of some malevolent being. James' attachment to this viewpoint is unwavering. He refuses to yield the POV to anybody less educated, even if the actual story occurs to somebody else! He uses Latin freely, expecting that his readers will know what it means. This perspective is part of what makes James' style special.

Apparently, James admitted in his lifetime that he had no use for ghost stories where the apparition is friendly or helpful. It shows. The handling of the supernatural is superbly creepy. The entities of these stories are at best angry and frightening, at worst directly dangerous.

One of my favourite aspects of his writing is that, for the most part, if anything overtly scary or supernatural occurs, it happens mid-paragraph. Most other writers put the frightening occurrance at the start of a paragraph to emphasize the fear. Not so with James. Many times my eyes slipped uncomprehending over the words and I had to do a literary double-take and re-read, mirroring the disbelief and shock of the characters in the story. It's a fascinating writing technique.

There is yet another aspect of these stories which blows my mind. Conventional writing technique tells us that writers of horror/fantasy/sci-fi have to fully explain fantastic events for the sake of suspension of disbelief. For instance, H.P. Lovecraft is a master of inserting his supernatural events in history and explaining, if not what evil force is at work, why the force is at work. James does not. Frightening events happen to the characters of his stories without explanation and end suddenly. Rarely are readers spoonfed the identity of a ghost or the reason that it is restless. Questions are always left unanswered. The forest is just haunted and nobody remembers why. The effect is unsettling.

These stories are a century old now and some readers may need time to adjust to the prose. However, the tales are worth the effort. They are unique and creepy. Don't expect the type of horror that splatters gore on shower walls. It's not his style. Instead, expect the type of terror you feel when you walk up a staircase from a basement and feel something rushing up behind you. Expect the terror of knowing that something angry is watching you from the woods.

4 1/2 heretical prayer-books out of 5

http://pharoahphobia.blogspot.com/