I’ve never understood why people in scary movies are relieved when another character says, “Oh, it’s just the wind.” It’s like – hello – the wind is terrifying.
The wind is a bunch of breezes that got together and started moving around willy-nilly with no regard for any of us. It’s air that gives zero fucks. And you’d be a fool to think that it doesn’t want you, and everyone you know, dead. Stare into the eye of a hurricane (which I have) and tell me otherwise.
Not to mention, I’m not entirely sure how wind even exists. For real, if someone can explain it to me, I’ll give you my entire collection of Bugle Boy windbreakers. My entire collection.
In the meantime, I just going to continue to assume that wind is exactly what it feels like – the breath of a million people hitting me at once.
Why do people always let out a sigh of relief when the scary thing that jumps out at them turns out to be their cat? First of all, why is your cat leaping out of the pantry? And second of all, your cat just tried to scissor-kick in the face. It’s like – news flash – your cat is starving and it’s trying to murder-eat you.
Bottom line, there’s not a single real-life situation where you would be relieved because your cat just leapt from the top of a ceiling beam and tried to elbow-drop you like Rey Mysterio. Life isn’t WrestleMania, and it’s obvious your cat hates you. The fact that you don’t realize it, only makes me more sure that there’s a 0% chance you’ll see the guy hiding behind your door holding a butcher knife.
There’s always that part in horror movies when someone is getting ready… and they open the medicine cabinet to get something out… and then they close it… and then BOOM! Something terrifying is standing right behind them and a gasp of horror goes up from the audience.
My question is why don’t people gasp from what’s inside the medicine cabinet? They’re usually packed to the brim with pills. And since these people look healthy, I’m going to assume that means they’re popping OxyCotin like their Tic Tacs. Don’t people know that there’s an opioid epidemic going on in this country??? Pain killers have killed way more Americans than Jasons.
Not to mention – medicine cabinets have mirrors on them and mirrors are the worst. Is it even possible to look into one without contemplating what a hideous monster you’ve become? I know I can’t. How could anything standing behind me be worse than the wrinkled face ravaged with age that I’m looking at now?
So often, our main characters breathe a sigh of relief when they wake up and realize, “…it was only a dream.” Since when is that okay? It’s like – shouldn’t you be angrier that your brain just tricked you for its own twisted amusement? Scientists don’t even understand dreams – nor their consequences – and yet, without proper FDA approval, our brains continue to have them unabated. Dreams should be rebranded and named for what they really are – “brain lies”. And sleep should be rebranded and called what it really is – “super lame time-travel”.
The take away: my parents told me to have dreams and look where that got me.
People in horror movies always seem so afraid of the dark, and then so relieved when the day comes. But, why? Why – when the light of day is brought on by something far more terrifying than any darkness on Earth?
Fact: the sun is a giant ball of burning gas that is just floating out in the cosmos. How did this happen? How did it get there? And how long before it turns it’s awesome power on all of us? The answers to these questions are simply unknowable. But, one thing is for certain, the sun is always looking for a chance to reduce you to ash.
It’s the reason why “(The Sun Will Come Up) Tomorrow” from the movie Annie is the soundtrack to every nightmare I’ve ever had. You would’ve thought that orphan would’ve known better considering the sun has zero compassion for her freckled, easily burnt, ginger skin.
Just look at them.
In almost every horror movie, there’s that part where one of the characters gets scared because they’re in an isolated cabin in the woods and there’s no one around for miles. Let me be clear – that is my dream scenario. And, I don’t know what they’re worried about it, when people being around is far, far worse.
Really, I don’t think I can overstate how much I hate everyone. And I often fantasize about how happy I would be if I were able to take my hermetic city lifestyle out to the country where I could truly see no one ever. Here, in this bustling metropolis in which I live, I’m forced to go into things like “stores”, where I buy the food that I need to continue “living”. And what’s worse, in these stores I’m forced to interact with actual people. I have to sit there – smiling, nodding, seeing them – pretending like I’m not overwhelmed with rage simply by the sight of their stupid faces…
That’s why I don’t understand the part at the end of all of these films – where audiences are relieved because people show up to the isolated location and rescue the frightened character. That’s the part that is my horror movie. And I’m living it every day.
Don’t worry, there’s something far less frightening down that hallway than a hideous monster – it’s just vast, empty, nothingness. There, aren’t you relieved?
I glad you are – because, I’m not!
Silly me, I guess I’m just less frightened by the sight of some hilarious looking goblin-creature named “Pumpkinhead”, than I am contemplating the idea that we’re alone in a cold, dead universe. I apologize that I don’t feel great about the hallway being empty in a way that reminds me of how I feel inside from a lifetime of living in an ever-expanding, black void. I’m weird like that.
I wish it were a gremlin.