Months ago, I watched Insidious on a Friday night with only a bottle of wine for company. Probably. This is how I prefer to watch my horror movies. For one, it’s weird to watch them during the day. Two, by Saturday I’m in more of a documentary mood and three, I don’t want the end of any movie to cut into my Iron Chef-watching time. And the wine is because…I mean, I just like wine.
I watched Insidious because everyone at work loved it, at least until the very end. “It’s so scary,” everyone said, “but then it falls apart in the last 20 minutes.”
I figured that I could endure 20 minutes of plot-falling-apart-ness if everything preceding it was scary, so I met with my good friend wine and sat down to watch Insidious. The thing about Insidious is that it’s okay. The writing is good – the concept, I mean, and if I were reading it as a story, it would probably scare the shit out of me – but the images in the film don’t quite do the job. They’re meant to be scary, but one of the ghosts/demons/whatever looks like Glenn Danzig and the other looks like Darth Maul and then there are some Dresden Dolls impersonators in there and it looks kind of silly. So without giving anything away, I tweeted this:
Which is not a terribly funny joke, and in retrospect, I would have taken out the part about the house and funhouse fog and said something about causing a family to make piss-poor real estate decisions. But such is the case when writing anything, as I have experienced few feelings of nauseous regret so powerful as I do when I try to mentally edit something I wrote awhile ago.
Several months later was yesterday, when I started getting all these e-mails from Twitter telling me about new followers. When I checked the site later to see which tweet generated them, I saw that a bunch of people had been retweeting my Insidious tweet, and because I thought it was a) not that great to begin with and b) a long fucking time ago, I tracked it to the first retweet, which was made by this guy.
Immediately after retweeting me, he said something about how he wasn’t offended by it, thought it was funny, and that I needed more followers. Hm, I thought, if only there was some way for me to learn more about who this person is and how my tweet could have had the potential to offend him. Wait! To the Internet! Which I was already using, so that was convenient.
Um. This guy wrote Insidious. And Saw. And acted in both. And produces and writes other stuff. And has a decent sense of humor, at least when it comes to understanding that I meant no offense to the filmmakers and was likely drunk at the time of writing. So I thanked him, and now I’d like to assure everyone that Insidious does have some genuinely creepy moments, and that sometimes I think about them when I wake up in the middle of the night and I feel my butthole clench because that’s what happens when I get scared.
IN OTHER NEWS.
I went to my second ¾ sleeve appointment yesterday. I sat for three hours (3 ½ is usually my limit) and felt fine, but we decided to start any actual color during the next appointment and just leave the shading/fine needlework to heal for now:
…Not a lot to go on, but it’s what I could manage with my phone and limited mobility due to boobs and not having more than two arms. It’s a bit sunburn-y now but should feel better by Monday, when I’m reviewing the sold out Shins show (!!!). I’m just now listening to the new album (“Port of Morrow,” not as dreamily atmospheric as “Wincing the Night Away” but the Shins can’t really make a bad record) and am so excited that I get to see another one of those shows that people treat as a nearly religious experience. I mean, it’s weird to sit there and watch people get dewey-eyed with rapture, but it’s also kind of amazing to watch music you enjoy really affect people in the same room.
I have other shows and album reviews on the schedule from now until the end of July. I like stacking assignments a couple of months in advance. They give me something to look forward to consuming, but they also give me time to plan and I am not a spontaneously-gifted person. I need notice. Warning. Whatever you want to call it, just don’t surprise me.
Unless you’re a Darth Maul puppet in Insidious, and then you can help me get noticed by strangers on the Internet.