Anomalous Segues

My name is Miranda, and I have this problem where I tend to just say whatever. This is the part where you say, "hi, Miranda."

[horrificcharacterization]

This month’s essay is brought to you by 2 lbs. of Reese’s miniatures leftover from the holidays, as well as a crippling lack of motivation to engage in anything remotely resembling productivity.

BRIEF SYNOPSIS, STOLEN FROM NETFLIX: “After a one-night-stand, a...

[peppermintteatime]

Some of my favorite photos of our Captain America cosplay from Denver Comic Con, taken by TofuSnow Cosplay Photography.

More can be found at www.tofusnow.com.

[peppermintteatime]

So, the second day of Denver Comic Con was a lovely day. Not only because more than one person realized that I was cosplaying Misty Day (even though a grumpy guard made me get rid of my jar of swamp mud because, apparently, it was "dangerous" and he wasn't "sure how I even got into the building with it to begin with" even though at least three Pyramid Head cosplays were walking around with swords TWICE THE SIZE OF MOST PEOPLE. EXCUSE YOU, SIR)...

I digress. Basically, our second day was awesome because WE MET BRUCE CAMPBELL. TWICE. *inhuman noises similar to that of mating pterodactyls*

This may or may not have been me during the entirety of both interactions:

Regardless, though, he was AMAZING both times. The first time, I couldn't even talk because I was so starstruck. The second time, whilst signing the Necronomicon pictured above, he struck up conversation with both me and Cody. He talked to me about what I do, and when I said I teach English, he got a very serious look on his face and said, "I hope you're a good one. We need that, darlin'." *more frantic inhuman noises similar to that of mating pterodactyls on speed* I may or may not have died that day. I may or may not be a ghost right now, typing this with my ghostly tendrils...

[hailstones-and-halibutbones]

I decided to forgo doing my Evil Dead cosplay at DCC today (too much blood for 9 hours) even though my boyfran was all Ash Williams-ed out. BUT MISTY DAY WAS SO MUCH FUN TO COSPLAY. And I got to carry around Stevie all day, so that’s always a plus.

[peppermintteatime]

Hi, Miranda. I'd hate to see this blog deliquesce on the floor of the dilapidated cellar in the Mega-McManshion that is tumblr (I have a special investment in it, you see). So, to avoid this most tragic fate, I shall ask a most invigorating question! It is also seasonally apropos, so you should be able to draw much inspiration for the challenge it will present. Without further ado - If you could only ingest/imbibe one pumpkin flavored item for the rest of your life, what item would that be?

ANON, DAT VOCABULARY, THO. Who are you?! Freaking Hermione Granger? Please be Hermione Granger…

This is no longer, as you so gloriously put it, “seasonally apropos” because I am an enormous failure at keeping this blog afloat for any extended amount of time, and I very much apologize for that. This year has been, how you say, a gargantuan pain in mah bootay. A good, masochistic sort of pain, but a pain nevertheless.

But, regardless of that, I don’t even know what to say to you. Like, you’ve basically just created a rift in my psyche.

There’s a huge part of me that wants to say — straight up — pumpkin ale. Because pumpkin ale is the beverage equivalent of the satisfaction you get when you can finally take off your pants at the end of a long day. Proven fact. You can quote me on that one.

But that’s far too obvious an answer. So, I’m going to go with raw pumpkin BECAUSE IT IS THE MOST METAL OPTION, and aside from that, I could use said pumpkin to pumpkin-ify anythang and everythaaaang.

Why claim that I would only eat pumpkin bagels when I could just smoosh a pumpkin to smithereens, coat it in sugar and cinnamon, and slam it into an ordinary bagel or some cream cheese? BOOM! INSTA-PUMPKIN-IFED BAGEL. Or any other object…

Why say that I would only choose pumpkin spice lattes when I could just sprinkle some pumpkin corpse remnants into a cup of coffee?! WHY CLAIM THAT PUMPKIN SCONES ARE THE ONLY WAY TO GO WHEN I COULD ADD THE SOUL OF PUMPKIN TO ANY SCONE I WERE TO CREATE?!

… Ok, on second thought, eff it. That’s too much work. Pumpkin ale, anon. Pumpkin ale.

[peppermintteatime]

A super groovy Halloween to you all from Ash and Mia.

(More photos to come later. A massive thank you to Amanda -- amandamarie105.tumblr.com -- for taking such lovely photographs of our tomfoolery. <3)

[peppermintteatime]

Hi Miranda! If you were a superhero what would your superpower be? And none of that "ability to steal all powers" bullshit because we all know it's cheap and false, like the dreams of most communication majors.

Hello, anon! Don’t you worry your pretty little head. If I were a superhero, I would most certainly NOT wish for the ability to steal all powers because I couldn’t deal with that nonsense. It’d be groovy gravy if ALL powers were useful all of the time, but I’m convinced that some powers out there just straight-up blow.

Reading minds, for instance: while it’d be nice to know what people are thinking every now and then, I’d really be quite fine not knowing what the super weird dude at the mall is thinking as he carefully slinks through the aisles of Victoria’s Secret.

Invisibility is another one that I don’t think I could handle. While I’d love being able to screw with people by pretending to be a ghost or something, I’m pretty sure you’d have to walk around naked for the power to truly work (unless you want to create the illusion that you are nothing more than a walking outfit). Bearing that in mind, what if something happened to make the power die out momentarily? Like if someone were to inadvertently punch me in the boob as I was walking down the street because he/she didn’t see me, and then, in my intense pain, all of a sudden, it’s like WHAM! And then I get arrested for indecent exposure? No. Nope. Non. Nein. I’ve come too far to be arrested for public nakedness. Although I suppose I could strip down and jailbreak, but then I’d be a naked fugitive. There’s no winning.

I’m digressing a little, though. I’ve always dug Spider-Man because he can swing around cities and fire webs at people who really frost his cookies, which is ideal because no one enjoys getting covered in spiderwebs, and if someone were to upset me, I could just go “THWIP” in his/her face. Guaranteed, the person wouldn’t know how to handle that. You shouting “DID YOU JUST WEB IN MAH FACE?!” will attract more attention to you than it will to me. Also, at the same time, I’ve always felt kindred to Peter Parker because of his smartass-ness.

But, on the other hand, I’m not too into spiders; I respect them, but I don’t love them. I do, however, love owls… And if there can be radioactive spiders, then dagnabbit, there can be radioactive owls.Here is an extensive 5-part thesis as to why I’d like to be Owl-Girl, the owl pellet-slinging superhero:

I’d really dig being bitten by a radioactive owl because (1) I could fly, (2) I could see things awesomely at night, (3) I’d have some seriously awesome talons, (4) the soft hoot of the owl is tremendously soothing and I could easily calm down those who are upset by cooing at them, and (5) just as people hate being covered in spiderwebs, people also don’t like having owl pellets launched into their faces, so I could go “THWAPPP” at people who upset me and flee the scene of the crime as they loudly announce “AWW HECK NAH, YOU DID NOT JUST OWL PELLET IN MAH FACE.” Again, an exclamation of that sort will draw far more attention to them than it will to the girl nonchalantly flapping away into the soft crimson blaze of the sunset.

In honor of this momentous occasion, I’ve penned a little ditty, sung to the original Spider-Man theme: “Owl-Girl, Owl-Girl, does whatever an Owl-Girl does-irl. Beautiful talons, very big. When she hoots at you, you’ll dance a jig. LOOK OUT, here comes the Owl-Girllll.”

But if I’m being realistic here, I’d also enjoy any sort of superpower that would allow me the ability to sound like every sort of musical instrument ever. Like I could say a sentence in a standard way, but then I could go into psychedelic sitar mode and recite said sentence in an incredibly George Harrisonian manner. I could read Allen Ginsberg aloud in bongo mode and create a beautiful crash of melodious consonants. I could read 50 Shades of Grey aloud in porn guitar mode and fall on the floor laughing for hours. THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS.

Aside from that, though, I would also really appreciate the ability to make all kinds of coffee, tea, and smoothies (ALIAS: BARISTARIA) because — like the elusive communications major — I am both an English major and a philosophy minor, and I was told to have a back-up plan if teaching doesn’t work out, so, I mean…

[peppermintteatime]

Horror: The Insatiable Modern Audience and the Seemingly Ineffective Genre

Under the cut lies the literary journalism piece that I wrote for my creative nonfiction class. The piece is about modern horror films and the ways in which they are viewed and interpreted by today's audiences.

A LITTLE IMPORTANT BACKGROUND:

I'm a huge horror junkie, and I could have written until the cows come home, but in the interest of keeping this piece from getting too long, I only focused on a few movies in particular (regardless of how much I wanted to address other films, the piece could have very easily become a monstrous thesis, and I wanted to avoid that -- but, I mean, remakes, torture porn, and female survivor tropes alone warrant a thesis, and they are only briefly mentioned here). At the same time, I had a number of sources, but I didn't directly cite any of them in the interest of keeping the piece from looking too bonkers.

Also, while I know some people are probably not too fond of footnotes, I would like to encourage readers to click the footnote links at the ends of sentences (represented by [1], [2], [3] and so on and such forth) and read them as they go along. I intended for my footnotes to serve as funny little sidenotes or supplementary research to bolster my ideas, and I think the piece loses something without these constructs. Although, if you're not into that, that's cool, dude. I won't force you. I'm actually just stoked that you're willing to read my insights in the first place.

With that, I would like to extend the warmest of thank yous to all who helped me write this. From giving me your opinions on horror, to recommending websites or articles that I should check out, to merely helping me renegotiate some thoughts here and there when nothing was making sense, you've helped me tremendously. You guys are my heroes.

And, with that, let's do this thang.

"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.”

 – H.P. Lovecraft, “Supernatural Horror in Literature”

  People who haven’t experienced a horror film in theaters have no idea what they’re missing. Like cautiously wandering through the seemingly uncharted landscape of a haunted house[1], settling into a squeaky movie theater chair to see a horror film (on opening night, especially, although any evening/night showing when a movie is first released works) is riveting, due to the reactions of the audience. Most people who view horror films enjoy the feeling of being afraid, and when people are afraid, they react in a number of ways, many of which contribute to an exciting, fun, and sometimes downright hilarious collective experience.

I remind everyone of this as I excitedly scamper up the illuminated staircase at Cinemark Theaters with my boyfriend, brother, and two close friends on April 5th, 2013. It’s opening night for the Evil Dead remake, and I’ve begun my typical movie theater scan for the horror audience stereotypes, and they are abundant here tonight. There are adorable couples safely cuddled into each other’s arms who could, potentially, end up in each other’s laps by the end of it all, using each other’s clothing and fingers as eye shields; those vibrant people – mostly large groups of younger women – talking loudly already who will most likely become the vocalists throughout the film, shouting at the characters and their decisions and the monsters that they’ll face; the burly, muscular men who strolled in with their buddies, talking up a big game and seeming relatively badass – these guys normally crack halfway through, and some may even let out a little scream here and there; and then there’s “the Evil Dead fan club,” which mostly consists of my group, decked out in t-shirts with designs from the original Evil Dead trilogy and quoting the main character’s one-liners from the original films like the massive nerds we are.

Our fan club seems sparse. While this bodes well for a modern horror film in general, this doesn’t bode well for a modern remake of a campy horror film because these people most likely aren’t expecting camp[2]. The original trilogy never took itself seriously, and to expect seriousness from this remake seems to defeat the purpose, as the film is a remake of a not-too-serious trilogy, and remakes attempt to – at the very least – maintain the tone of their predecessors, lest the filmmakers face hellfire raining upon their heads from a maelstrom of angry fans with pitchforks and torches. That being said, my people and I are not expecting to be extremely scared – a little bit, sure, but not a lot. We’re here to jump and to laugh, but a rather large part of me is telling me that this film’s tagline – the questionable “The Most Terrifying Film You Will Ever Experience” – has brought these people here today, and I don’t know if they’re going to leave feeling as satisfied as the fan club and I hope to be because we’ve merely taken the tagline as a marketing scheme and nothing more.

As soon as the theater darkens following the previews, everyone is in the zone. A younger woman in front of us – one of the vocalists – shrieks and jumps as a door unexpectedly slams onscreen; this is not even a part of the movie – it’s a production company logo. Everyone chuckles as this happens because, if a slightly spooky production logo is enough to incite a scare, we all cannot wait for what the movie itself will bring. “This is gonna be so damn fun,” whispers one of my group, and within moments, our theater is taken on a journey to a deserted cabin in the woods laden with shrieking and swearing possessed people, blood and gore to the extreme[3], and camp done to a campy turn. Yet, no one laughs. My group and I giggle as characters make stupid decisions and encounter frightening situations, yet all I hear from the other audience members surrounding me are collective groans and snippy, quiet “what the hell is he doing?!”s as characters behave ridiculously onscreen.

My confusion reaches an all-time high when the climax comes. My friends and I are some of the few who cheer and shout “YEAH!” as the female protagonist confronts the bad guy – in this case, a sinewy demon who literally crawled out of hell – in typical Evil Dead fashion with a chainsaw after delivering an outrageously cheesy one-liner, but everyone else in the theater sits silently and stoically, as if they don’t even care. As soon as the credits roll, only a select few of us stay until the end of the credits to see the protagonist from the original film deliver one of his outrageously cheesy one-liners, and I’m left with a lackluster opening night experience and few answers as to why this happened. Did the audience not have a good time? Did they hate the movie? If so, why?

In 1973, in movie theaters across the nation, men and women alike found themselves clutching their feathered hair and fearing that they might inadvertently mess their bellbottom jeans at the sight of a young girl possessed by a demonic entity. Clad in a nightdress stained electric green by vomit, equipped with a head that turned 360 degrees, and bearing the lurid vocabulary of the most debauched sailor imaginable, Linda Blair’s demonic 12-year-old vessel, Regan MacNeil, made many a filmgoer check their closets and under their beds for possessed adolescents before hitting the hay. This iconic character was the main focus of William Friedkin’s The Exorcist, one of the most revolutionary American horror films ever released. Scenes from this film – such as a monstrous scene in which a possessed Regan violently masturbates with a crucifix while shrieking sexual obscenities at her aghast mother – resonated with audiences thirsty for scares, as the film presented shocking ideas and situations that audiences had never seen or imagined before.

While scenes from the film on YouTube are often peppered with modern internet users’ critiques questioning the film’s scare factor[4], most people agree that the movie holds up as one of the most terrifying films of all time. A video of audience reactions from pre-screenings of The Exorcist in 1973 imparts just how strongly this veritable horror godfather affected American audiences eager for scares when it was first released. The video reports long lines of people awaiting their turn to see the film. Early on, the film earned the reputation of sometimes causing viewers to faint or vomit in the theater. “I wanna see if it’s gonna make me throw up!” says one giggling filmgoer standing in a crowded line. A fast-talking theater usher in a blue vest and bowtie says, “I never in my life have known a movie to make people faint – I mean, it’s hard to make people faint.” Immediately thereafter, the video reveals a scene of a woman in a floral shirt falling to the floor as two movie ushers in red blazers rush to her aid. The blue vested and bowtied usher then goes on to say, “Well, as soon as they faint, I get out smelling salts.”

The fact that theaters had to prepare safety protocol for one film is fascinating enough, but the video also showcases interviews with a few people who were too terrified to stay for the duration of the film. “I have a friend in there, alone, and I-I, I don’t want to leave her in there alone,” says soft-voiced woman with short brown hair, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. Phrases like, “I’m not going back in there,” “It’s very, very real,” and “I can’t even describe it, it’s so horrible” are thrown around right and left. The video culminates in a stuttery, “I don’t like it, I wanna go home,” uttered by a horrorstricken woman as she hurriedly storms away from the camera[5].

The Exorcist’s success as a horror film seems to stem from its subtlety and originality. Filmgoers in 1973 were quaking in their boots at the mention of the film because they were shown a new, scary-as-all-hell story that they had never encountered before, told in such a manner that questioned their morals. Seeing a portrayal of demonic possession so rooted in realism and presented with a bit of bloodshed and shock (but not too much) was new and fresh for people seeking scares[6]. Bearing that in mind, originality seems to be a huge factor in determining a horror film’s “scareability.”

Alternatively, today is a difficult time to be taken seriously as a horror fan. There was a time when horror was respected; these were the days of The Exorcist, and these were also the days of Jaws and The Shining, amongst others. All of these films garnered praise for their subtlety and originality, and above all else, these are some of the films that people mention most when they discuss the horror films that really get under their skin. Nowadays, though, the horror genre has evolved along with its audience. Anyone who sees a horror film today is not affected by Exorcist homages, one is not greeted by the subtle orchestral “dun dun” indicating the presence of the great white shark in Jaws before a character meets his/her doom, and while axe-wielding Jack Torrance chasing his family around and shouting “HERE’S JOHNNY!” was effective in its day, one does not encounter this kind of suspense in horror today without the presence of buckets of blood and cringe-worthy violence.

Part of this seems to be due to the evolution of the modern audience’s preferences. After posing some horror-related questions to the friend-filled digital space known as Facebook, I got quite a few insightful responses about modern horror and how people perceive it. A good chunk of responses dealt primarily with predictability and originality. One person said, “I feel like the modern 'horror' movie is nothing but torture and sexual content. There needs to be a driving story behind it or it is just nonsense… Horror movies at their essence I believe are supposed to elicit emotion from the viewer – not just shock and awe.” In a similar light, another person openly dissected the predictability of horror today: “Horror is predictable. I know what is scary and therefore I am guessing what will happen before it happens. What scares me is when there is something more horrifying than what I predicted.” To further this idea even more, another said, “Much like how action films must now have huge explosions and car chases to be considered part of the genre, horror must have blood and death and sex and blood and death and death and blood and sex. So while it's perfectly fine to dislike horror films because you don't like the fear factor, I believe a large group of people dislike horror because of its predictability. Shock value can only go so far. I think I speak for most when I say that a horror movie scares me more if it has a reasonable amount of plausibility.” To sum it all up in one quote from another person, “It seems that the concept of the modern moviegoer is about the extremes. Extreme vulgarity, violence, sexuality, or just gritty/edgy concepts in general. There is nothing wrong with pushing boundaries, but I appreciate it when things have a point.”

Bearing all of this in mind, what we see today is peculiar. Filmmakers are trying to peg down what audiences want to see, but from these responses, it seems as though audiences want to see something different. Audiences want to be scared, but with movies like The Exorcist, Jaws,and The Shining already in existence, filmmakers feel as though they must try new things in order to avoid predictable storylines. In this case, trying new things means breaking away from the subtle norm to create something new and extreme. This “something new and extreme” most recently took shape in the complete opposite of subtlety that arose with movies like Saw and Hostel, both films that settle comfortably into the much-debated “torture porn”[7] genre. These films evolved from the increased gore and shock factor in exploitation films such as The Last House on the Left and The Hills Have Eyes during the ’70s, and the slasher films that arose during the ’80s, such as Friday the 13th. Hostel,in particular, aimed to amp up the gore factor and abandon the subtlety in an effort to spook audiences, but by and large, it was ineffective because audiences want the whole enchilada. They do not want too much gore because it shows too much; they want subtlety, and at the same time, they want originality.

It makes sense, then, that audiences might be let down by a film like Evil Dead. When a movie boasts that it could, potentially, be “The Most Terrifying Film You Will Ever Experience,” it makes perfect sense that movie theaters will fill to the brim with the average horror moviegoers who are all anxious to see if they’ll, once and for all, find themselves satiated by a modern horror filmmaker’s sacrificial offering. What the filmmakers behind Evil Dead sought to do, though, was to take an old horror film and remake it for today’s audiences without stepping too much into torture porn and without letting down fans of the old trilogy. The paradox here is unfair to the filmmakers and the audience both. Horror audiences who don’t appreciate anything beyond the scare factor cannot appreciate the vast effort that some filmmakers try to funnel into their films, and horror filmmakers are forced to market their films as the next best scare fest in order to gather an audience.

What should we expect from horror, then, if we’re not expecting frights? Is it possible to make good horror films without worrying about the scare factor? My friend Evan said it best when he eloquently stated, “I do find that horror films have the most difficult challenge in making ‘good’ movies. The job of a horror film is to scare the entire audience that already knows that it is fake. If you judge a horror film on how much it scares you...Then I am sorry, but you will have a very difficult time finding a ‘good’ horror film.” This makes quite a bit of sense. What scares me may not scare you, and what scares you may be vastly different from what scares the rest of the world, so it doesn’t make sense to hold filmmakers to the standard of scaring everyone. But, at the same time, doesn’t the genre seem null and void if it isn’t scaring us? What is the point of “horror” if we don’t find ourselves horrified by what we’re seeing on the screen?

I found myself pondering these questions profusely on April 5th. My gang and I loved the film because we were able to see beyond the scare factor, but strutting out of the theater and back into reality, we were greeted by our fellow moviegoers as they questioned the nature of the film. “I don’t know. I mean, it was good, I guess. I just wasn’t really scared. It was gross, but that kinda stuff doesn’t scare me, you know?” says the familiar girl who was sitting in front of me – the one who jumped at the production logo at the beginning – to her friends in the lobby. The Internet holds just as many noncommittal reviews from people stating that the film was good by film standards but didn’t hold that horrific mojo that they had been dying to see.

The question as to whether or not we’ll ever see that mojo hit the screen within our generation is, at this time, unanswerable. We live in a society in which a genre that once satisfied fans has run out of fresh ideas, and without this freshness, it seems as though fans looking for scares are about as lost as zombies wandering in an open field, searching for an unsuspecting human to latch onto in order to gain their sustenance.

In the meantime, in the midst of an ever-shifting genre, horror fans may find solace in understanding that not all films under the horror umbrella succeed in scaring audiences. Had viewers of the Evil Dead remake allowed themselves to appreciate the nuances of the film beyond its scare factor, it’s possible that more people would have left the film feeling satisfied. At the same time, if horror filmmakers were allowed to market horror films as good films rather than scary films, it is possible that our society might be able to revive the genre and leave room for new insight from filmmakers, allowing them to create their own originality that doesn’t stem from failed attempts to show viewers something newly horrifying and revolutionary. If the genre continues to falter like it is right now, however, and if people do not change their ways of thinking about horror, it may continue to slowly perish, not unlike the unfortunate victims who face their untimely demises within the celluloid confines of the genre’s films.

  [1] When I use the moniker “haunted house,” I mean those manmade Halloween mazes filled to the brim with makeup-shrouded actors and actresses, and not an actual house believed to be haunted. One may differentiate a manmade haunted house from a “real” haunted house with the following formula: 1-10 frightening landscapes taken from any film or scary story – any physical contact with victims who enter said environment + 15-30 characters that fulfill the environment requirements of these landscapes x (at least 120 metric feet of fog produced by a standard fog machine + at least 30 sorts of spooky sounds) + 1 supremely scary bastard with a chainsaw, sans chain on blade. PEMDAS and preciseness need not apply here; horror is allowed to be sloppy.

[2] By “camp” horror, I mean horror that doesn’t take itself too seriously. You know those moments where a character is trying so very hard to be quiet and then slips and falls down the stairs by accident? I classify that as camp, and fans of campiness find it bizarre when people take moments like these seriously and don’t take the time to laugh.

[3] Seriously. EXTREME blood. The sky was even raining blood at one point in the film. I felt so bad for the cast of this film because it was filmed during winter in New Zealand, and the feeling of fake blood freezing onto your appendages cannot be pleasant. The lead actress even got a sizeable chunk of fake blood and dirt lodged in her ear canal; it took her 3 months to get it out completely, and within that time, she got an ear infection so bad that her doctor puzzled over it. A lot of effort was put into this film, and it was obvious, simply from the practical gore effects alone. This was not a movie made solely for monetary gain. It was made for horror fans.

[4] My personal favorite comment is from user “xxprincesspenguinxx.” This comment has been voted so negatively by other users that it’s been blocked by YouTube administrators: “FUNNIEST SHIT EVER!!!!!!!!! am i the only one who laughed the whole time in the movie?? MY BED IS SHAKING LOL [sic. Literally everything, sic].”

[5] Interestingly enough, the new Evil Dead film also used an audience reaction video (recorded at a screening held at The University of California, San Diego) as a marketing tactic. Their video, however, shows actual clips of people jumping, covering their faces, and screaming as they are watching the film. While there are a number of posts online on Twitter and other social media outlets about people fainting during the movie, many speculate that fainting spells caused by the film could have been caused by choppy editing cuts and/or preexisting medical conditions aggravated by the film’s extreme nature and gore.

Students interviewed after the film say things such as, “It was non-stop from beginning to end,” “I watched it from my sweatshirt,” “I think I cried at one point because I was screaming so hard,” and “You need someone [or something] to hold onto. You will die by yourself.” No one mentions needing to leave during the film because it was too scary; instead, these reactions seem more like the reactions one might see from people riding a rollercoaster – a quick, fun thrill ride that leaves you momentarily satisfied, but doesn’t manage to burrow under your skin and perturb you psychologically.

[6] To further prove this point, the initial teaser trailer for the film was nothing more than an image of the “white-faced demon,” Friedkin’s visual representation of the demon in the film, fading in and out over and over again. The white-faced demon was – as its name suggests – a pale white creature with yellowed, pointy teeth and dark red circles around its eyes; its presence in the teaser trailer (even though it did nothing more than fade in and out) was deemed too scary for audiences and pulled from theaters. One can only imagine the lovely surprise that awaited viewers who were scared of the teaser when – or if – they finally saw the film.

[7] Torture porn is exactly what its name indicates; most movies that fall into this genre contain an unsettling amount of blood and gore (and sometimes sex) and very little plot, and it is important to note that the blood and gore in these films comes completely from innocents being tortured blatantly and outrageously. Audiences who see these films are unsettled, mostly due to the fact that they’re mostly thinking, “YEESH, this is painful to watch. Who in their right minds would come up with a torture scenario this insane?” In my opinion, these movies are generally unfulfilling as far as the scare factor goes, and especially unfulfilling as far as memorability goes. What will remain in viewers' minds is the torture and very little else.

[peppermintteatime]

Bruce Campbell -- Ash Williams, himself -- once said, "you know you've had the misfortune of meeting a true Evil Dead fan because they won't fucking shut up about it." Hi, guys. That's me. I'm sorry, but I will not shut up about Evil Dead any time soon, and I have no idea if any of you are even fans or interested in seeing the new one, but before you shout "REMAKES ARE LAME, DUDE," I wanted to get this stuff out there from the point of view of a hardcore fan rather than a stuffy movie critic.

I understand if you liked the original due to its low budget cheesiness and charm, and that's fine, but we shouldn't expect that charm from a movie this big to begin with. I also understand if you feel that the story doesn't need to be redone, but I respectfully disagree. To those of us who have been waiting years for Sam Raimi and Bruce Campbell to revisit Evil Dead in some capacity, this is the foot in the door that we needed; if you want sequels, you need a fan base, and if you want to build a fan base more than 20 years after the fact, you need to put something out there that people are going to be interested in beyond the cult classic status. Welcome, Evil Dead 2013, to the horror film canon. In my opinion, you're gonna go down in bloody modern history, buddy. Before I dive in any more, here's some context: ever since I was about 8 years old and illegally watching horror films against my parents' will, I've been an enormous Evil Dead fan. I consider the original ED films to be my major stepping stones into horror. They are my some of my all-time favorite movies to this day, I watch them quite often, and I could analyze them forever. Paradoxically, I don't love these films and analyze them because they represent perfection in filmmaking. On the contrary, I love these films because, to me, they represent perfection in the film experience. I can laugh, cringe, maintain intrigue, shout at my television, and at the end of the day, I can still sit there and think, "wow -- there's a lot to be analyzed here concerning horror. Why is this my ideal horror experience?" These films will never be Oscar-worthy, but frankly, I don't care. Our society needs to move away from the notion that, in order for movies to be good, they must fulfill the standards dictated by critics and the Academy. This trilogy was ahead of its time, and there's a reason that these movies stand so strongly on their own as cult classics: to me, this is because these films were flirting with horror metafiction before it was cool. Scream and Cabin in the Woods? Dude, I love them, but Evil Dead made fun of itself looooong before it was the hip thing to do. That being said, to confront the "remake" question, Sam Raimi (the director of the original trilogy) recently said that he considers the underlying story of ED to be a sort of legend-like ghost story you'd share around a campfire that deserves to be retold in a number of ways, especially as it evolves over time. He beat people to this with the sequel to the first movie (my personal favorite of all of the films), where he told a similar story in an entirely different way, emphasizing comedy and the grotesque moreso than was considered in the first film. He then pushed the envelope even further in the early '90s with Army of Darkness (which is, undoubtedly, the film most people have seen from this trilogy because it is the most accessible for non-horror fans), creating another version of a similar story in which everything is insanely goofy. As far as the remake is concerned, I was initially frustrated with the announcement of a remake because the original trilogy already made its point with story retelling and building metafictional constructs through said retelling. I was worried that a remake would be just that: a REMAKE, as in taking something and trying to recreate it. Most modern horror remakes do this, and quite frankly, it blows... It blows like an erupting geyser containing a whale firing someone out of its blowhole who just so happens to be happily blowing bubbles in midair... Thankfully, though, what we have here is NOT a standard remake, in my opinion. This is another retelling, like its predecessors before it, in the form of a reboot -- it gives the series the kick in the pants needed to revive it, like the Fonz beating a jukebox into submission. Sure, there are some lovely homages to the original -- some aspects of Evil Dead need to be there in order for it to be Evil Dead -- but by and large, this is Evil Dead's story told for today's generation, and not only is it a rollercoaster and the most fun I've had at a movie in a while, but it's actually kind of powerful. What we get with the reboot is a modern metafictional retelling of the old story. Instead of a group of friends going to the cabin to drink and party, we get a group of friends going to support their childhood friend, Mia, in her effort to combat her addiction to heroin. This is a welcome change from the party story, as this seems more realistic, especially today. A book of the dead (not Necronomicon Ex Mortis, specifically, or even the book from the original film, either) is discovered in the cellar, and a high school teacher with an insatiable desire to question authority and do whatever the hell he pleases (REPRESENT) blatantly ignores all warnings on the book, recites the Latin, and brings forth the demon carnage, Kandarian or otherwise. Without a doubt, the biggest thing for which this film is garnering praise, and what you will, undoubtedly, hear most about when people talk about it, is the thousands of buckets of blood, viscera, and other bodily, um, excretions that coat the screen and grace your eyes. We've got tongues split with box cutters, shower burns from hell, arms chopped off and hanging loosely by damaged thready sinews and tendons, syringes used as weaponry, and -- of course -- a few chainsaw and boomstick injuries, and this isn't even half of the macabre gore presented therein. This is the first film to make me cringe and squirm in a long time, and that's saying a lot. It helps that these are all practical effects; ain't no CGI here, folks, and dag nabbit, it is successful. I haven't seen a movie this bloody since Peter Jackson's Dead Alive (another favorite of mine; you should check it out if you haven't already), and this a highly modern take on the original story in that regard. How many modern films have we seen recently that are rated PG-13, wherein explosions kill thousands of people bloodlessly and unceremoniously? For instance, in the Transformers movies (thank you, Michael Bay) we have zero recognition of the fact that, even though the Transformers saved the world, the autobots also managed to kill like, 100 people just walking down the street and stepping on cars. Movies like this are everywhere, and I won't address the detrimental nature of that because that's a diatribe in itself, but in Evil Dead, you get a blow by blow of every injury. It's almost as though the film is making an argument against the unceremonious PG-13 body count in today's society by forcing you to see the opposite end of the spectrum: these injuries are outrageous, and you will not escape the bloodshed whatsoever. This makes the violence appear far more significant to the average moviegoer without treading into "torture porn" territory. On top of this, in this retelling, pain serves as a hellish form of punishment and psychological torment. This brings me to *drumroll* ENGLISH MAJOR MOMENTS! *audience coos, ahhs, and awws* So many moments in this movie gave me an English major lady boner, which I was not expecting in the least. First of all, the demons in this movie are far different from the deadites in the original trilogy; tying this to the notion that the book of the dead is different and possession occurs more ceremoniously here, it seems as though these movies -- the old trilogy and the new film -- are a lot more deep and interesting than we assume they are. The demons in this film are weaker and more Exorcist-like, sort of like a diluted form of the Kandarian demons from the first trilogy, suggesting that focus is being built upon the different books of the dead presented in all of the films, and if they cross Ash's universe with the new one and extrapolate this idea, I will most likely squeal like a 12-year-old girl at a One Direction concert (yes -- these movies REALLY are my equivalent to that). *SKIP THIS PARAGRAPH IF YOU FEAR SPOILERS* At the same time, the drug storyline builds a much bigger metaphorical plot for the movie in which we're not only seeing Mia -- the junkie -- combat real demons, but we're also seeing her combat her inner demons as well. It's fitting that Mia is the first to be possessed, and even before she is possessed, she's acting screwy due to withdrawal, making her the perfect vessel for evil in this film. Her brother, in an attempt to cleanse the evil from her body and vanquish it, plans to burn her but immediately reconsiders and buries her alive instead after creating a makeshift defibrillator out of a car battery and syringes (I loved this -- so campy). I got another English major lady boner on top of the one I already had when he put her in a red burial dress (signifying vitality, of course), and when she is brought back to life, we are viciously thrown into one of my favorite endings of recent history. Mia is forced to combat the human embodiment of the evil itself (which is, basically, a demon doppelganger of Mia) while the skies literally rain blood. Not only was this visually stunning (I want a framed print of one particularly beautiful scene near the end involving a chainsaw and a raging fire in the background. I'm not kidding... It was gorgeous), but it served as a way for Mia to really earn her place as the survivor of the film and gain a second chance through conquering the inner and outer evil, so to speak. This brings me to the acting, ultimately. This is another aspect of the film that I've seen bashed in most reviews. First and foremost, if you're watching Evil Dead films for exemplary acting, then you're clearly watching the wrong films. What I want from Evil Dead is a certain degree of hamminess that points out to the viewers that they are, indeed, watching a horror film. The whole point of Evil Dead to me is the fact that it knows it's a horror film and wants you to ride along with it. That being said, the acting in this movie, in my opinion, had a great degree of intentional hamminess blended perfectly with some solid acting chops on behalf of a very capable cast. They knew they were in an Evil Dead movie, and Jane Levy and Lou Taylor Pucci in particular seemed to be having a damn blast with it. And Jane Levy, man... If they gave out prestigious awards for horror performances, this girl would garner ALL OF THEM. She essentially played 3 characters, nailed them all, and at the end of the day, she *SPOILERS FOR THE REST OF THIS PARAGRAPH* was able to make lines like "FEAST ON THIS, MOTHERFUCKER" and -- my personal favorite because I love it when characters in horror films finally decide that the torture needs to end, especially since this line came right after a car crushed her arm and she finally just got pissed off and ripped half of her arm off -- "I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS SHIT" sound awesome before unleashing some Ash-like badassery upon the evil. I would love to watch Suburgatory now (the comedic show she's most known for) because if she's half as good at comedy as she was here, then this girl deserves about 1000 more roles than she has right now. Finally, what I loved most about this film was its reconciliation of campiness and seriousness. The original movie was not intended to be overtly funny; the sequels, on the other hand, were. People seem to forget that Evil Dead is not an entirely comedic series, and what I loved about the retelling was the fact that it managed to tell a serious story without taking itself too seriously whatsoever. People in my theater were not laughing much, but there comes a point when the injuries simply become too outrageous, or when someone delivers a certain line, or when a character commits the exact crime that you don't want him/her to commit, that you just cannot help but start laughing. This over-the-top-ness is one of the chief factors in all of the Evil Dead films that made me fall in love with them and the horror genre in general, and I was so happy to see it present here. The score, in particular, added to the campiness perfectly; it was scary when it needed to be, but some parts had a very Danny Elfman's Beetlejuice score vibe about them, which gave the movie a definite, bouncy "I am on a silly horror ride" feel. Lastly, to confront what I didn't like: (1) I was having trouble getting into the first half of the movie initially, and I think this is because I read the script before seeing the movie. They omitted many scenes from the script in the final cut of the movie. With these cut scenes, I feel like the pacing was knocked off-kilter a little bit because they ended up loading 15 minutes of dialogue with some awkward lines to set up relationships and build character development. However, again, we don't watch Evil Dead for these things, and I actually ended up loving the way that the first half played out after seeing the second half in its entirety because I think the awkward dialogue adds to the metafictional qualities I discussed earlier (it almost makes fun of the way modern horror movies attempt to build characters -- no idea if this was intentional on the filmmakers' behalf, but that's how I see it). (2) Fede Alvarez, the director of this film, did some amazing things -- particularly, the ending was his idea -- and I never thought I'd say this after being so thrilled about Raimi, Campbell, and Tapert's involvement, but I would have liked to have seen the movie with what Alvarez wanted rather than what fans and producers Bruce Campbell and Rob Tapert insisted he include. I hope we get a director's cut (or at least an unrated cut with deleted scenes and plenty of special features) when the movie is released on DVD and Blu-Ray, and I also sincerely hope that he goes through with his plan to do a sequel that does its own thing entirely. (3) The film was advertised as "the most terrifying film you will ever experience," and I entered the movie knowing this wasn't going to be the case, but other people will not do that, guaranteed. While I understand that the tagline is a throwback to the original's "the ultimate experience in grueling horror" tagline, I feel like this is going to piss a lot of people off because gore does not equal horror; it equals gagging and cringing, but it's not the sort of psychological horror that will leave you shaking in your boots. Granted, my tastes differ from everyone elses, but I think that a lot of negative feedback concerning this movie is going to be fueled by its tagline, and that's highly unfortunate because it does so many praiseworthy things as a horror film, but many people -- particularly today's generation -- don't seem to realize that horror movies mess with far more constructs than the scare factor alone. This is why many people didn't seem to understand the broader qualities of Cabin in the Woods, and this is also why many people seem to misinterpret movies like Drag Me to Hell (another fun and silly Sam Raimi splatter romp) as strictly horror films rather than horror comedies.

Overall, I loved the heck out of this movie, and it was so satisfying to leave the theater, satiated (and even exceeded) hype in hand. It's been a long time since I've immediately announced "I WANT TO SEE THAT AGAIN" literally as soon as the credits started rolling, but this certainly evoked that emotion from me tenfold, and even prompted a long beer-fueled discussion at Old Chicago afterward. Again, if you think of this movie like a rollercoaster, you will appreciate it immensely, but if you're looking for a proper, hoity toity Oscar-worthy experience, then you should probably stay home and watch Argo or The King's Speech or something because you've come to the wrong place. The rest of us will continue to laugh, scream, and cheer for the bloody insanity that questions our morals and frays our nerves.

ALSO, IF YOU'RE A FAN OF THE ORIGINAL TRILOGY, STAY DURING AND AFTER THE CREDITS. Just saying.

[peppermintteatime]

So, I--a completely anonymous person--was wondering if you could go anywhere in the world that was not Europe/Canada/USA where would you go? Why?

Well, completely anonymous person, my first impulse would be to say New Zealand because that's where the Lord of the Rings was filmed, and it looks gloriously beautiful. Plus, speaking of the Lord of the Rings, if I were in New Zealand, I'd be really tempted to dress up like a hobbit and mess with people (I'm sure I'm the very first person to think of that). Now, for your viewing pleasure, here's one of my favorite photos on the internet.

A little more personal though, at the same time, I want to visit Australia because I feel like it gets a bad rap, mostly because most people think it is monstrously deadly there.

(Picture courtesy of cracked.com.)

This all began when I did a presentation in a geography class on Australia. I chose Australia because of said bad rap, thinking it would be fun to study a place where everything wants to kill you.

What I found out, however, was quite the opposite. Rather, the exoticism in Australia makes people want to tell everyone that everything is deadly, when in reality, the animals ARE deadly, but not THAT deadly. I mean, they'd be hella deadly if you tried to share a house with all of them or something like some weird sitcom, but if you're not planning on shacking up with a saltwater croc, a great white shark, a funnel web spider, and a blue ringed octopus, and you exercise Australian safety, you'll be fine.

Bearing that in mind, during my presentation, I spoke in a cathartic manner about the non-deadliness of most of the animals there, until I was rudely cut off by my professor right when I was about to drive my point home because I "had gone on too long." I'm not bitter. Promise. But she's probably an Australian Deadliness Prejudiced person. Just saying.

But really, though. Why should we allow the dangerousness of animals to keep us from experiencing such an awesome place? Especially when the animals aren't that dangerous?

Look at these baby platypi.

WHY SHOULD WE NOT APPRECIATE AUSTRALIA SIMPLY BECAUSE ONE OF THEM OR BOTH OF THEM COULD RELEASE A DANGEROUS TOXIN?End Australian Deadliness Prejudice 2012.

[peppermintteatime]

What is the proper response to unwanted or unsolicited holiday gifts? I mean, what does one say to a can of Cheesey SPAM, a Justin Beeber singing toothbrush, , Pajama Jeans, feather underpants, or DIY Dentistry kit?

First and foremost, I would argue that this is the appropriate initial response to receiving such horrendous gifts, courtesy of Garfunkel and Oates: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yMWTs0YT928

Secondly, what I do in situations like these — or when I receive more than one of a particular item that I wanted — is think of alternate ways to use them!

EXHIBIT A:

There was a monologue I did in theatre a few years ago from a play by Christopher Durang, wherein a woman talks about becoming so frustrated at the grocery store when a man won’t move out of her way, so she finally can’t take it anymore, grabs a can of tuna, and clobbers him over the head with it.

That being said, (1) place can of cheese SPAM in purse, (2) using firm grip on can of cheese SPAM, clobber people in grocery stores who won’t get out of your way. BAM. You’ll be so pleased with its performance that you may even want to eat it, but you’ll hopefully decide against that because then you won’t be able to use this tactic again, and that would be highly unfortunate. Plus, cheese SPAM is just… I mean, it’s… No. If I’m being polite here, no.

EXHIBIT B:

Ok… Here’s what you’re going to do. I’m assuming this works with some sort of button to start the singing, right? Tape the button down, and place this baby boy singer toothbrush in random public places. If you can, muffle the sound a little bit. Everyone will wonder where Justin Bieber is coming from, but they will not be able to find him. Mwahahaha.

Let me just say that this will be especially satisfying when the batteries wind down because — if Bieby toofbrushes are anything like ’90s era Furbys when their batteries run out of juice — the toothbrush will slow down and begin to sound like Satan incarnate. Then, people will think that Satanic Biebz is on the loose, and, I mean, if you’ve ever wanted an entire coffee shop to yourself, that’s one way to get everyone to clear out.

EXHIBIT C:

There’s no excuse for these. The first thing I’ll ask you to do is hold onto one of the pantlegs firmly — after making the present face — and slap your friend across the face with the pantleg. “Oh, you’re so silly!” they’ll utter, but come on now.

That being said, these may come in handy when solicitors come a-knocking. Instead of peeking through the peephole and pretending you’re not there, just open the door slowly, let them begin their little spiel, and then nonchalantly throw the pants at their face when they ask if you’re interested, and stoically shut your door.

Also, I hear tell that pajama pants work even better than SHAMWOWs for cleaning up messes in the kitchen, and they’re like, machine washable, so…

EXHIBIT D:

But why wouldn’t you want these? I mean, WHY NOT? They’re so practical!

Here’s what you’re going to do with this: (1) put all unwanted feather underpants in a box, (2) mail that box to me.

If you don’t want to do that, I suppose you could always tear the extra feathers off the undies and use them for arts and crafts. The underwear itself might function as an interesting hat, if you’re feeling a bit saucy.

EXHIBIT E:

Don’t feel like stabbing yourself in the gums over and over again and then scolding yourself for not flossing more because apparently you should be flossing your teeth with barbed wire? NO PROBLEM.

These dentistry tools can come in handy around the house! That scraper thingie? Well, I mean, if you’ve ever wanted to carve your name into the underside of your expensive coffee table, then look no further. That tiny mirror? If you’re sneaky enough, you can use it as a mini human side view mirror, so that you never have to worry about people sneaking up on you. I’m not sure what else comes in one of those nifty kits, but just lean with it and rock with it.

All in all: As Taoists believe, naming objects limits them. Once you call a dental tool a pointy death stick, it shall be known as a pointy death stick forevermore, and never as a coffee table scraper. Once you call a can of cheese SPAM a can of cheese SPAM, it loses its deadly projectile qualities. Once you call a Justin Bieber toothbrush a Justin Bieber toothbrush, you can no longer call it a Justin Bieber annoyance stick (with or without Satan Bieber power). Once you… Well, I think you get the idea.

To wrap everything up (in a lovely Christmas bow): (1) present face, (2) look for other ways to use that nonsense so that it doesn’t go to waste. Everyone wins.

[peppermintteatime]

So I just found out I have a tumbler. Had it for a while I guess.... and my computer kept me singed in. You are now officially the only blog I follow on here. Is that cool? I had to add that question because I'm supposed to ask you something... Are you still apologizing to your sweaters and hoodies? This weather is way too hot!!! I asked that second question to show that I read something of yours and to show my frustration at december... and november... and october. Yeah

Colin, you are wonderful. :)I am honored and touched that I am the only blog you follow on here.

On top of that, I believe that you are the very first person to ask me a non-anonymous (that’s fun to say) question.

As far as my hoodies and sweaters go, I probably should have replied to this question a hell of lot earlier because there’s snow on the ground and it’s freezing outside today.

That being said, my sweaters and hoodies are partying on me right now.

Ok, that came out weird… I mean that my sweaters and hoodies are draped against my cold body constantly now.

That was weird, too.

I don’t think there’s any delicate way to say that.

As far as the weather before today goes, I highly disapprove of Colorado’s severe hotness during October and November and part of this month as well.

I find it highly unsettling when I don’t have to wear 12 layers when hanging up Christmas lights, and on top of that, seeing children come to my door on Halloween without creative ways of incorporating their jackets into their costumes is just… Well, it’s not wrong, but it’s not right. I, for one, live for that creativity. Like, instead of a kid being Han Solo in A New Hope, a kid dresses up as Hoth Han Solo circa The Empire Strikes Back? GENIUS. CANDY FOR YOU AND YOUR PARENTS. 4 FOR YOU, HAN SOLO. YOU GO, HAN SOLO.

[peppermintteatime]

If you can be disgruntled, why can't you be gruntled? No one ever says," Look at the gruntled children!" What about all the grungled postal workers who never get attention? My cat looks totally gruntled when she sits on my keyboard. What the heck is up?

You bring up a fascinating point, dearest anon.

In fact, you know what?

I'm going to compose a definition for "gruntled" right now, using a combination of highly scientific reversal techniques.

Firstly, here's a definition of "disgruntled," courtesy of Google:

dis·grun·tled  /disˈgrəntld/

(Adj.) Angry or dissatisfied.

If this is what it entails for one to be disgruntled, then we can then assume that the definition of gruntled will be the opposite of disgruntled.

Therefore, the correct definition of gruntled is as follows, and I quote:

grun·tled  / grəntld/

(Adj.) Disangry or disdissatisfied.

BOOM. Gruntled has been defined!

Therefore, we can now describe happy people as being gruntled, and dishappy people as being disgruntled.

Anon, I'm leaving it in your hands to -- like Justin Timberlake brought sexy back -- bring gruntled back.

WE'RE GONNA GRUNTLE UP IN THIS BIZNATCH, Y'ALL.

LOOK AT THE GRUNTLED PEOPLE!

LOOK AT THE GRUNTLED SEAL!

LOOK AT THE GRUNTLED TOAST!

[peppermintteatime]

Sports?

Spuh... Sssspooohh... Spooooohhhhrtttts? Sports?

That's not English, is it? No habla inglés?

No English? Yes English?

(This wonderful gif was made with loving hands by stewfields.)

Oh, wait... Someone's talking to me. Just a sec.

-- PLEASE STAND BY --

SPORTS IS AN ENGLISH WORD? FOR LIKE, EXERCISE-BASED THINGS?!

So, is that like, quidditch, or, like, water polo?

... Huh? Quidditch isn't real? So neither is water polo, then?

... Oh... That IS real. Ok then.

Does this have anything to do with that ballyfooty thing I hear so much about every year?

... That's called "football"? Nahhhh, you're kidding. That's what people in other countries call that game where you kick the white and black ball thing around. I'm talking about that sport with the brown oblong-y ball that gets people foaming at the mouth.

... Oh, that's ALSO football? Huh. That's confusing. Why?

... Oh, ok. WAIT. I've done sports before! I almost was convinced to try out for volleyball when I was in middle school because I was good at smacking balls in midair. I didn't like the bruises on my arms though, so I said no. I think I also got a blue ribbon for track day in 3rd grade due to the promise of Otter Pops when I finished running. I hung that ribbon on the wall next to all of my reading ribbons from the library and my violin solo & ensemble medals.

I'm digressing. Tell me more about these sports you speak of, stranger. What else is there to know?

... People also watch them on TV? YEAH! That's what I meant! With the ballyfooty thingie! The oblong-y brown ball! With those giant pads and helmets and the spandex pants that show far too much! Yeah, I'm not a fan.

... What do you mean you "kinda assumed that"? Rude.

Oh, wait! Speaking of rude, I'm being a royal rude-pants.

Anon, what is it you were asking here?

[peppermintteatime]

Classy Transylvanian vampires picketing against Twilight.

Happy Halloween to you all.

[peppermintteatime]

Taylor Swift needs to be more edgy. That being said, I propose that the next man that she dates and breaks up with be a frightening burglar.

For example, here are some experimental lyrics framed from her hit misinterpretation of both Romeo and Juliet and The Scarlet Letter, "Love Story": "We were both young when I first saw you, I close my eyes and the flashback starts, You're standing there, Duct-taping a bank teller to a chair.

See the lights, see the money, the horror, See you make your way through the hostages and say 'hello.' Little did I know... That you were Clyde Chestnut Barrow, You were firing your tommygun in the sky on my street, And my daddy said 'OMG, TAYLOR. WTF are you doing? That guy is wanted in 12 states!' And I pushed him down the stairs and said 'OMG, dad, I told you my name is Bonnie Elizabeth Parker now! Stop micromanaging my life!'"

[peppermintteatime]

What's that you say?

"Pumpkin spice is becoming the new bacon of America because it's annoyingly popul--"

CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER THE DELICIOUSNESS. Sorry.