Cult of the Cobra (1955)

In 1955 Universal released a powerful film that at last would reveal the horrible truth about Snake-worshipping. After years of battling with the powerful Snake-Charming lobby and the U.S. Viper Council, Cult of the Cobra finally hit the big screen, and forever changed the way the world viewed the occult.

Alright, alright, I made all of that up. (Except the title of the movie and the year it was released. Those are correct as far as I know). The truth is, that with the Academy Rewards approaching, and everybody talking about important movies like Breaking Dawn: Part 2, Resident Evil: Retribution, and Battleship: You Sank My Battleship, that my article might go unnoticed. So I thought I might exaggerate a little…but forget it. I don’t need to prove that this little thriller from the 50’s is just as praise-worthy as any Piranha: 3D (starring TV’s David Hasselhoff).

Incidentally, have you noticed that all the popular movies these days have a colon in the title? Maybe I should change the title of this movie to Cult: Of The Cobra. That might help. And maybe I could include how many “D” it has. Cult: Of The Cobra: 2D. Or maybe Cult: Of The Cobra: Double D!! There, now we have a title worthy of an Oscar winner! Let’s start over, shall we?

Cult: Of The Cobra: Double D!
Our tale begins during the last days of WWII in “Asia”. (That is as specific as they can get–at least with a typical 1950’s movie-goer. References to such obscure, unfamiliar places like “China” or “Hong Kong” would be over their heads I suppose.) During this pivotal time of the war a group of six young military officers has been deployed to this remote area with the sole purpose (it would seem) of taking touristy photographs. They are stumbling through the crowds of an outdoor market, pointing and laughing, and generally perpetuating the well-earned, shitty reputation that we Americans have. Their mission is interrupted, however, when they encounter a snake charmer named Daru. In addition to being the only legitimately asian actor cast for this bustling market scene, he is also a member of a secret society of mysterious snake-worshippers known as the Lamians.

As an aside, I decided to do some digging in regards to the subject of Lamians. I enjoy movies but I am first and foremost a lover of knowledge and academics, as is evidenced by the Dictionary.com and Wikipedia bookmarks permanently affixed to my browser’s toolbar. According to the internet, Lamians are a type of Chinese noodles that are “usually served in a beef or mutton-flavored soup but sometimes stir-fried and served with a tomato-based sauce.” I have absolutely no clue how this might relate to snake-religion, but kudos at least for the screenwriter getting the right part of the globe.

The Snake-charmer is looking to make some quick cash–presumably to upgrade to a more realistic looking rubber snake–so he quietly offers to sneak the Americans into a Lamian snake ritual for just $100! Naturally they accept, and so he leads them all, disguised in enormous hooded robes, to a hidden cave where they discover a crowded temple full of sinister Lamians! (The officers seem to go to a lot of troubling hiding their American faces from the Lamians. However this appears to be completely unnecessary because all the “Asian” Lamians are actually caucasian actors doing exactly the same thing with their own hoods.)

It should come as no surprise that ultimately, despite VERY CLEAR instructions from Daru that there may be “No Flash Photography Please”, one of the Americans whips out a gigantic camera, blowing their cover with one flash of his bulb. When the Lamians discover them, a saloon-style brawl ensues (the Asian affinity for martial-arts was somehow overlooked here) after which our boys manage to escape. BUT not without the high priest calling a curse down upon them (in perfect, fluent English I might add):

“The Cobra Goddess will avenge herself! One by one you will all DIE!”

And that is just what happens.

…More or less. When the men arrive back in the States one of them (Tom) meets a mysterious woman named Lisa. Lisa is a girl of many unusual talents. One of them is the unsettling ability to stare blankly into space without blinking or moving for a complete scene. Another, less impressive talent is that she can transform into a vicious cobra at will. Using this limited, but very specialized set of skills, Lisa quickly steals the spotlight from the other characters and becomes the focus of the story. As well she should, because she is actually the Cobra Goddess!

So, there are a bunch of scenes where we get to see Cobra/Lisa kill people from the snake’s point of view, which is fun. I call this “Snake Vision” (see photo at left) and you’ll know if you are watching a scene in Snake Vision when the camera lens is covered by an oblong, transparent soap bubble. Nobody really knows how snakes perceive the world, so a soap bubble is as good an approximation as any I suppose. After say, 4 more people get killed, one of the surviving officers, Paul, finally puts one and one together and comes up with snake-eyes. Lisa is the killer– the Cobra Goddess!

To cut to the chase, the film cuts to a chase scene where Paul rushes to a theater in order to stop Lisa from murdering anyone else, and she is quickly captured with a shawl and tossed out a window (in her snake-form), to her death. Hooray.

Care for a clip?

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Monster on the Campus (1958)

Hello friends and connoisseurs of camp! This week we’re setting our cinema time-machine for 1958 to uncover another fossil from the age of vintage B-movies: Monster on the Campus. I sincerely hope you’re ready to have your jeggings blown off because this picture is a veritable tour de force of everything that makes bad movies good, including…

– Science!
— Fiction!
— Transformation sequences!
— A second-grader’s understanding of basic biology!
— Co-eds!

One wonderful thing about this movie is that it’s not just entertaining. It’s also an education in biological science and how far it can be twisted, misunderstood, and just plain mangled in the name of filmmaking. By the same token, it’s an exercise in testing the limits of “suspension of disbelief”. When it comes to entertainment and storytelling, we are all willing to make a few concessions regarding what could “really happen” because as we all know: real life is lame. For example, when we go to a magic show we might see the magician slice a woman into thirds and rearrange her body parts. We enjoy the spectacle despite knowing that it’s not real and that a scarlet river of warm human blood isn’t going to start gushing onto the stage, no matter how much we might want it to.

I happen to be blessed with an exceptional ability to suspend my disbelief and accept fantasy, due to a healthy upbringing in the intergalactic church of Scientology. However, even I had a hard time going along for the ride with Monster on the Campus. It took all of 5 minutes for my suspension of disbelief to snap from the weight of all the bullshit in this movie. But that isn’t to say I didn’t enjoy it.

Monster on the Campus’s unlikely story revolves around a very special, prehistoric looking fish called a “coelacanth.” Unlike most other details in the movie, this animal is loosely based on reality; the coelacanth is a very real fish. And had you been paying attention in fifth grade science class instead of carving rock band logos into your desk you would recall that this particular animal is considered a “living fossil”. This is because the species has not evolved at all in 65 million years! Pretty impressive, huh? Let’s hear it for science.

If this article is starting to feel too much like a biology lesson, fear not. The appearance of the coelacanth in this movie marks the first and last part of the film that is even remotely scientific. From this point onward, Hollywood-style psuedoscience is in the driver’s seat. And that of course means anything goes! For example, the coelacanth that appears in Monster on the Campus has the ability to cause “reverse-evolution.” Essentially this means that any living thing coming in contact with it will transform into a savage pre-historic version of itself. E.g. a simple dragonfly becomes a giant paleozoic insect, while a man becomes a vicious Neanderthal.

As the movie opens, a young student is delivering a large coelacanth specimen to Dr. Donald Blake. Blake is Dunsfield University’s professor of Paleontology and, as far as I can tell, the only instructor in the school’s entire science department. So as you might imagine, Blake’s ensuing transformation into a prehistoric man-ape is a great loss to the university. Replacing him would certainly be a challenge. I’m guessing brilliant professors aren’t likely to be lining up for jobs at Dunsfield U, whose school of science probably ranks somewhere below Toni’s Online Academy of Beauty.

How does Doctor Blake become the Monster on the Campus? Well, mainly by means of clumsiness. It’s a documented fact that 75% of Professors teaching in the U.S. are clinically Absent-Minded. Roughly 3% are “Nutty” and the remaining 22% are “Assholes”. Blake belongs to the first category (at least until he transforms into the Monster at which time he promptly moves to the 22% group). So, when he lifts up the huge coelacanth to carry it into the lab, he naturally grips it firmly inside the fish’s toothy mouth with his ungloved hand. He cuts himself on one of it’s fangs, effectively injecting himself with coelacanth saliva. Just for good measure, he also puts his injured finger into his own mouth to clean the wound. Ten minutes and one rubber mask later he is a ferocious, bulging prehistoric man. He takes his first victim shortly thereafter.

He transforms into the beast twice more after this. Once by accidentally spilling coelacanth blood into his standard-issue professor’s pipe and smoking it, and finally by deliberately injecting himself with the blood just for yuks. He murders some more people, and the police decide to hunt him down. You can probably guess how the story proceeds from here, but if you really need to know every last pre-hysterical plot-point then by all means see the movie for yourself. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

That brings us to the part where I show you a brief clip from this weeks feature:

Robot Monster (1953)

A Brief Word About Blogging:
If you’re anything like me (and I’ll assume that if you aren’t, you’re at least trying to be), you never miss a chance do a little web-browsing whenever the opportunity presents itself. It’s such a great diversion and, thanks to mobile devices and smart phones, there really isn’t any excuse NOT to be online, ever, regardless of what you’re doing! Why, just the other day I was able to stream most of this week’s movie Robot Monster while driving to work. And while I unfortunately wrecked my car in the process by allegedly careening into a small Brazilian restaurant, I was (up until that point) having a very pleasant commute indeed.

My point is this: these days there’s rarely a reason we have to just be bored. So if you ever happen to have a few moments to spare (e.g. while you’re at a stop light, or if you’re on cruise-control, or you’re waiting for the driver’s side airbag to fully deploy) I urge you to read and comment on any of the inspired, insightful articles found here on Schlock Therapy. I don’t get paid to write this stuff, so my only compensation is knowing that my blog might be somebody’s brief intellectual detour on the way to his/her favorite porn site.

But you didn’t come here for a lecture did you? You’re here to read about movies. So I’m going to get off my high-horse for a moment, and step onto this slightly-less-high soapbox to talk about Robot Monster. If you’ve ever heard of this film, you have probably also heard that it’s considered to be one of the worst movies of all time. However, this is completely inaccurate and unfair: it is by no means “one of the worst”…it is hands-down THE worst, period. To rob it of this distinction is, quite frankly, a crime and I’m not going to stand for it anymore.

Who is Robot Monster?
Strictly speaking, the title character, “Robot Monster” is neither a robot or a monster at all. He’s really just a sad, misunderstood, plus-size visitor from outer-space. His sole purpose just happens to be the complete and final disintegration of the human race, but you shouldn’t be so quick to judge him. My guess is that his anger stems from a traumatic childhood. An examination of his bizarre anatomy reveals that he is obviously the child of a Teletubby and Chewbacca the Wookie (please refer to diagram A). Two such parents would very rarely see eye-to-eye (mainly because of their height difference), which probably made for a volatile home environment. Add to that a confused sense of racial identity, and you have a recipe for an intergalactic sociopath. I, for one, can easily sympathize, having been raised by parents who could never agree on which type of ethnic of food we should have delivered. Those of you who didn’t have to grow up under such difficult circumstances may not be able to identify with Ro-Man’s issues.

Death Rays and Dinosaurs
As the story begins, we learn that an alien civilization has all but destroyed the planet earth with a weapon of immeasurable power known as the Calcinator Death Ray. This weapon is essentially a big laser, but also has the inexplicable ability to summon dinosaurs. (It seems that the director had access to some footage from The Lost Continent and was determined to shoe-horn it into his movie whether it made sense or not. Which it didn’t.) The only survivors of the apocolypse are a family of 5, a young and often shirtless man named Roy, and 2 other men (whose names I don’t recall but it doesn’t matter because we never see them and they blow up in a rocket anyway). These 8 people are, God help us, the last hope for avoiding humanity’s total extinction.

Enter, the Robot Monster. He has been sent to earth with orders to eliminate these 8 survivors and make way for his civilization’s imminent invasion.

Sounds like a simple enough task for a superior being with a death ray right? Wrong! The father of earth’s last household is also a scientist, and a brilliant one at that judging by his vaguely eastern european accent. He has created an experimental (and Non-FDA approved I might add) anti-biotic which just so happens to makes his family members immune to: the common cold, the flu, and of course Death Rays. *Side effects include poor acting, stilted dialogue, and dead-end movie careers. Because of this immunity, the Robot Monster (or Ro-Man, as the humans call him) pledges to kill them by “physical means”. And by this he means choking them to death with his bare, fuzzy, ape-hands. It seems odd to me that a scientifically advanced individual like Ro-Man wouldn’t have a more sophisticated backup plan. At least something a little more efficient than manually throttling all his victims one-by-one — but who am I to second guess the tactics of a space-gorilla in a diving helmet?

Ro-man’s crisis!
Poor Robot Monster is ultimately unable to follow through with his objective because he falls in love with the scientist’s lovely daughter, and thus can’t bring himself to destroy her. He is so taken by her, in fact, that during one unexpectedly risque scene he attempts to tear the top off her dress! His clumsy attempt barely even reveals her collar bone, however, so don’t expect anything too…um…exciting here. When Robot Monster’s boss learns of his affection for a human girl he is furious, and presents him with an ultimatum. Ro-Man must kill the woman immediately or be destroyed. And in a fleeting moment of existential introspection he cries, “I must…but I cannot! At what point on the graph do ‘Must’ and ‘Cannot’ meet?”

At what point, indeed, my dear misunderstood Robot Monster? At what point indeed?
*Please see diagram B for the solution.

I don’t want to spoil the “surprise” ending to the movie, but here’s a hint: the whole movie was just a boy’s bad dream… Actually I guess I did kind of spoil it there. Okay, forget what I just said and enjoy this heartwarming clip:

Bride of the Monster (1955)

Welcome back! Once again, your lunchtime routine of aimlessly clicking through the embarrassing list of bookmarks that pass as your “interests” has brought us together. Well, are you ready for another excursion into the realm of classic B-movies? (Don’t just say yes. If you really don’t feel ready, put this aside and try jogging in place or maybe do some “Zumba” until you feel sufficiently enthused.) This week we’re taking a look at another Ed Wood classic, Bride of the Monster.

This movie has the distinction of being Ed Woods biggest-budgeted attempt at filmmaking. At first viewing, you might wonder “Okay, so where exactly in the movie did all this extra money go?” You’ll also be wondering this at second and third viewing. The truth is, nobody knows. Suffice it to say that despite having a little more cash at his disposal, Mr. Wood was still able to create another cinematic tour de force in ineptitude. (Which is a good thing.)

Cast of Characters:
Dr. Eric Vornoff: The quintessential brilliant mad-scientist, Doctor Vornoff has been trying to perfect a method of creating a race of giant, evil, atomic-powered supermen. Unfortunately the closest he’s come is a slightly-larger-than-average evil octopus. But in spite of an evil lifetime of failure, this evil doctor is still able to share a few evil laughs with his evil pal Lobo…

Lobo: Lobo is your typical career henchman. He has embraced every possible stereotype that’s ever been associated with the Igor/evil-sidekick type character: Bald: Check… Mute: Check… Facial scars: Check… Weird angora fetish: Huh? That’s right, Lobo goes cuckoo for angora, just like good old Ed Wood Junior. Coincidence? Who cares.

Lt. Dick Craig: This loser is supposed to be the protagonist. But I’m guessing you’ll be rooting for him to die after watching a couple of his scenes. Unfortunately he survives to the bitter end. Sorry.

Janet Lawton: Janet is a feisty young reporter who also has the misfortune of being Lt. Dick’s fiancé. She’s investigating the strange events that have been occurring in the evil swamp near Dr. Vornoff’s evil lair.

Octopus: Dr. Vornoff has an octopus. It’s evil, too.

Pop quiz! The single most important resource to an aspiring Mad Scientist also happens to be the hardest to come by. Can you guess what it is? Lightning?…No (although that’s a close second). Electronic props with lights that blink arbitrarily?…Nope. The answer, of course, is Test Subjects. You could own all the bunsen burners and jacob’s ladders in the world but without a few healthy human beings to poke at, you’re just a lunatic in a lab coat. Fortunately for Dr. Eric Vornoff, the village that neighbors his hidden swamp-lair has no shortage of idiots who can’t seem to help themselves from wandering into his gator-infested domain.

The film opens with the latest of his long list of victims, a pair of half-witted hunters. These two meet their amusing demise after making the mistake of knocking on the doctor’s front door. One is strangled to death (or possibly tickled to death–it’s hard to tell) by the rubber octopus. The other gets strapped to a table and fitted with a colander on his head — he is to become Vornoff’s next lab rat (as well his next failure). Dr. Vornoff turns a few dials and throws a switch, bathing the poor man in atomic energy or whatever. This kills him almost instantly and the doctor is left with yet another dead test subject. It’s clear that this is the usual result of his experiments. No sooner is the man dead then Lobo quickly and instinctually disposes of the body by feeding it to the giant octopus. In fact, the octopus’s only purpose in the movie is to serve as a garbage disposal unit (and to provide unintended comic relief).

Before long, Vornoff’s next victim stumbles into his secret lair (the townspeople seem to be lining up for a chance to participate in his experiments!) This time it’s Janet Lawton, reporter for the Whatever-town-this-is Journal. After parking her car neatly into the side of a tree, she decides it’s a good time for a nap/faints. Loyal Lobo promptly collects her and brings her back to Dr. Vornoff, who dresses young Janet in a lovely wedding gown that he happened to have lying around his lab(?) Conveniently, the gown is a perfect fit for Janet’s…um…buxom frame, and must be quite comfortable too because she doesn’t even notice she’s wearing it when she wakes up. Inevitably, she ends up strapped to a table in the lab, positioned under Vornoff’s atomic ray-gun device.

The film’s pivotal scene takes place shortly thereafter, when poor misunderstood Lobo realizes that he’s fallen in love with the enchanting Miss Janet Lawton (or at least with her angora).

There comes a time in every evil-henchman’s life when he begins to question the actions of his master. It’s a necessary part of henchman development — as natural as a baby teething, or a teenage boy’s compulsive experimentation with mascara. I’m sure you recall the climactic scene at the end of that Star Wars movie when Darth Vader turned against his boss, the Emperor, and threw him down an air shaft. (If you don’t, then stop wasting your time reading this crap and and go reacquaint yourself with Return of the Jedi!) Believe it or not, the very same conflict arises in Bride of the Monster…and for a fraction of the cost! Lobo’s sudden change of heart drives him to release Janet from her restraints and put Dr. Vornoff under the atomic device instead! However, unlike the scene in Return of the Jedi, Lobo’s betrayal backfires and he finds himself face to face with an Atomic-Powered Super Vornoff. Can you smell the irony? Eric Vornoff’s first and only successful test on a human subject is on himself…and he’s too hopped up on radiation to appreciate it. In any event, he ends up getting crushed by a giant boulder-shaped ball of papier-mâché, and the movie ends.

Here, enjoy a clip!

Plan 9 from Outer Space (1959)

Every so often there comes along a director who is able to achieve immense fame, despite the fact that his talent for filmmaking is barely comparable to a drugged chimpanzee’s, and that every single movie he releases makes you want to claw out the eyes of your loved ones so they may be spared ever having to watch them.

I’m referring, of course, to filmmaker Michael Bay. But, even more rare is the director who becomes a legend because his movies are terrible. And, at the top of that very short list of anti-geniuses is the director of this week’s movie, Edward Wood Jr. If you’ve ever seen the biographical movie about his life, you’ll know that not only did Mr. Wood look remarkably similar to Edward Scissorhands, but also was completely, single-mindedly dedicated to his craft. And while he directed no less than 18 horrible movies,  Plan 9 From Outer Space is regarded by most experts (most notably, myself) to be his masterpiece.

Cast of characters:
Old man: A grieving widower turned vampire/zombie. He is also presumably a germaphobe, judging by the way he obsessively holds his cape over half his face.

Old man’s wife: She too has become a vampire at the hands of the cunning extraterrestrials. She also has an inexplicably narrow waist. Really, you should check this out.

Jeff Trent: Dashing airline pilot who is the first to visually identify the alien ships. Literally cannot tell the difference between a cigar and a saucer (if that ain’t a Freudian such-and-such, I don’t know what is.)

Inspector Clay: Bald, burly cop of questionable credentials, and equally questionable hygiene.

The Ruler: Commander of the alien fleet. His name is a bit of a contradiction because this flamboyant conqueror-of-worlds is about as far from being “straight” as one can get.

There is a LOT of ridiculous crap to love about this film and because of this, it really bears repeated viewing. After you’ve read this insightful blog post (and sent the link to at least 15 of your closest friends), I suggest you watch Plan 9 all the way through, a minimum of three times. Consecutively, of course, and preferably in one evening. I recommend that you block off an entire night on the calendar in your kitchen, so you aren’t disturbed. It would also probably be a good idea to drug your family or roommates or pet for the evening,  just in case.

What are some of the things that I love about Plan 9? Good question. And while simply reading the opinions and judgements I post here could never replace the actual movie-watching experience, it probably comes damn close:

Obviously, one cannot deny that the mere presence of film legend, Bela Lugosi, is this movie’s greatest asset. He plays an elderly man (great casting!) who dies very early in the story, to be later re-animated by the sinister aliens that are invading the earth. Please note that one of the side-effects of this reincarnation technology is that you return as a vampire. This is quite fortunate, because Bela Lugosi happens to be very good at pretending to be a vampire — and not as good at pretending to be a space-zombie. Ed Wood knew this about Bela, and was a gifted enough screenwriter to work it into the plot! And that, my friends, is why some people call Mr. Wood a genius. I wish more directors would follow his lead, and give roles to actors based on what they’re proven to be good at.  For example, only cast Bill Paxton as a spineless, whining pain-in-the-ass. Or only let Matthew McWhatsizname play emotionally underdeveloped hicks.

What’s also great about this movie is that everybody gets to have a gun! They’re practically handing them out like take-out menus. Not only that, but everyone handles their firearms with such an amusingly casual disregard for safety. They wave them around and gesture with them, use them like pointer sticks, whisk eggs with them, etc.

The extraterrestrials get guns too, which look like your typical rocket-with-a-handle shaped ray guns. Theirs, however, are more like mind control devices that they use to command their undead human slaves. The alien visitors make it rather clear that they are against guns and weapons in general. Certainly a noble philosophy, though doubtless the reason for their overly complicated “Resurrect all the dead humans one-by-one, and make them kill everybody on earth” plan (which ultimately fails).  Probably, if they had considered relaxing their rules about firearms, and just blown earth away with a giant space-cannon, things may have gone better for them. But it’s never easy taking the moral high-road, is it?

For all the nonsense there is to be found in this movie, there is also a message. There are a few messages, actually, and most of them kind of contradict each other. But the one that Ed Wood seems most determined to ram down our popcorn holes is summed up in the following clip. Okay! See you next time!

Forbidden Planet (1956)

Hey, listen! Do you ever stop and think about how technology could be dangerous for people in the future? Yeah, I do, too–I think about it all the time. For example, what if one day we invented a super-computer that could turn your all your thoughts into real-life…even your most evil, messed-up, “I-wanna-punch-baby-pigeons” thoughts??

Well, now you don’t have to think about it any more because there is a great old movie that addresses that eventuality and it’s called FORBIDDEN PLANET! And the plot basically goes like this: Commander J. J. Adams leads his ship’s crew into deep space on a mission to renew contact with a long-lost colony that had been living on the mysterious planet, Altair-4. However, when Adams arrives, he and his men quickly discover that nearly the entire colony has perished! The only two survivors are the austere, well groomed Doctor Morbius and his perpetually half-clothed daughter, Altaira.

Dr. Edward Morbius is a scientific genius and the self-proclaimed steward of the Forbidden Planet. I don’t know what he’s a doctor of, but it sure ain’t child development. He’s managed to stunt his 20-something daughter’s emotional maturity so much, she makes Miley Cyrus look like Indira Gandhi. But, how did all the other colonists get killed? We’re led to believe that a primitive, deadly force residing within the planet wiped them out. But the truth about what happened is something much, much less interesting!

Now, then. I can’t help but feel that it’s my responsibility, as the foremost authority on classic American cinema currently occupying this restroom stall, to try to point out some of the more subtle themes that pervade this movie.* So pay attention:

Right off the bat, you’ll notice something missing in the Commander’s crew…namely females. They’re all men. This might seem a little odd or even f*cked up but you have to realize that this film is from 1956, before they invented women with jobs. It’s important to keep in mind the era that any given movie comes from, even if the era was stupid.

You also might take note of the costumes. Sociologists agree that in the coming centuries, clothing for men will become more elaborate, versatile, and functional while women’s clothing will evolve into little more than a few inadequate scraps of transparent cloth held in place by an uncomfortable leather strap. This is a concept that is embraced by all the most forward-thinking sci-fi screenwriters in Hollywood and I, for one, am fine with it. If you disagree with this perspective, well then my friend, you disagree with progress!

I hinted earlier that the true fate of the missing colony is sort of a surprise ending: It wasn’t a mysterious alien force that killed them at all…it was in fact a deadly beast created by the subconscious mind of Dr. Morbius! In his studies of the planet’s history, he unwittingly discovered a technology that could bring nightmares to life!

(I suppose I should have put “Spoiler-Alert” before that last paragraph. Sorry.)

This got me thinking about what screwed-up crap I would conjure from my brain. I don’t know about you, but I stopped having nightmares about monsters and aliens by the time I turned 12. As a teen my bad dreams, of course, revolved around girls and getting beat up by girls. And as a mature adult my nightmares are usually about poorly-lit highway restrooms. But what are the darkest, vilest thoughts that exist in the subconscious of Doctor Morbius (who seems to be in his 60’s, but looks younger because of his friggin awesome goatee)? Evidently they amount to one gigantic, scaly, bug-eyed beast that would be very at home in any Saturday-morning cartoon. Silly doctor!

(…Hold on. Excuse me for a sec…)**

Okay, I’m back. Anyway, you should watch the movie yourself sometime, and form your own pointless opinions. Below is a short clip to get you started:

*Yes, as I write this I am using the toilet. When you’re a renowned blogger like me, you must be prepared for inspiration to strike at any time. Also, I misplaced my book of Sudoku puzzles.

**Sorry. I got distracted by the abominable spelling errors in a poem scribbled here on the bathroom wall. This age of auto-spellcheck has made vandals so lazy.