Horror Genre's Ups and Downs

Last month (if I'm correct, far too lazy to check), I posted an article detailing my interests in the horror movies being produced this year. Emerging not only partially disappointed by the titles mentioned (if you want motivation to remove your own eyeballs, go ahead and throw on Wrong Turn 5 one afternoon) but disenfranchised and unenthusiastic about what I've yet to see, I couldn't help but turn my gaze toward the plethora of films riding the coattails, or better put, playing the market created by such popular genre flicks appearing lately.

Oren Peli, director of just about everything I've liked wholly in the past half-decade (that's a blatant exaggeration, so don't call me on it) continues to do things that bring a mild elevation to the sides of my talk-hole. Unfortunately, in a great display of universal balance, the world must continue to preserve my apathetic frown by showing me things that, to a certain extent, drain the faith I had in the film industry.

I haven't been pleased with any alien-related films since The Fourth Kind and, on a lower level, Super 8. Being a proprietor of cranial fantasy and great hopes/dreams in favour of hostile galactic exploration (in other words, visitations from monsters from beyond my long-armed reaches), imagine my excitement when hearing about Dark Skies, an alien abduction story slated for February. Upon viewing the trailer, however, I was alerted to the definite and probably discouraging idea that we'll all bear witness to the return of what I call the "neighbourhood misunderstanding" concept. Often in films, in order to add another layer of story to an already fairly-yet-not-quite-complex-enough arc, many directors will introduce the difficulty of explaining a supernatural situation to a close-knit or friendly group of neighbours. There are only a few destinations on this avenue, the most common sometimes involving a police report filed by a nosy carpool mom, or in this case, a hospital visit that rapidly turns into evidence of domestic violence. I have little patience for characters who refuse to take the time to study the circumstances more closely in order to make a more informed and fair decision, and I believe this is what we'll be seeing here.

In other news, V/H/S was half-good and half-bad upon retrospect (though I think I mentioned that already), and I'm beginning to give independent and low-budget films less and less benefit of the doubt as time wears steadily forward to my demise. I'm growing tired of attempting to convince my cohorts to ignore the poorly post-produced blood splatters and stock screaming, in favour of immersion and suspension of disbelief. In the back of my brain, that nagging feeling of accidental farce continues to haunt me. That's scarier than the ghosts.

Birthdays Suck

Sometimes I'm a cynical introvert with no desire to speak to anything with a mouth and reciprocating thoughts. Other times, more frequently in fact, I come off that way while trying to challenge or defy consistent social norms that have no purpose other than to uphold traditions older than the concept of common sense itself.

Mostly I just dislike birthdays.

I didn't even remind anyone when my birthday was this year. If my computer had ears, it would probably hear you asking "Why, asshole?" Since that's likely the reason why you were roped into reading in the first place, I'm obligated to answer. Interestingly, that ties well into my first point: Obligation.

Say someone of value to me decides to delve deep into their metaphorical "piggy bank" in order to provide me with something I've been verbally longing for. Great. There are few things I hold in high enough esteem to appreciate as a gift, first of all, but I can't say that, since that means their time and most likely their hard-earned-yet-frivolously-cast-aside money has been promptly squandered. I'll accept most presents without much quarrel (sometimes), but the transaction doesn't stop there. Most people expect you to do something equally "nice" for them; be it return the expenditure on the date of their birth, or do them a favour at some point in the future. Whatever it is, it's oft accompanied by a dark and menacing cloud of debt, in which you'll find me. Even if I were to encounter one of the rare few who don't intend for me to keep that balance, I'll still feel like I should. Right now. Forever.

I don't act as though I can read the minds of my various acquaintances and targets of emotional investment, family or otherwise. As such, I can't possibly fathom what others might be desiring once the one day of the year that they're mildly important to work strangers happens to trundle in and invade my senses. Unless you tell me outright, constantly, incessantly, I'm not going to remember what you want. Come to think of it, I have a difficult time remembering when the fuck your birthday is in the first place. There are just so many and they're almost never in close proximity to each other. It's like taking the same aggravating memory exam each year, just as you've finally forgotten what it is you're supposed to memorize.

There's so much emphasis already on the date, individually, that piling even more celebratory measures upon the heap of one's happiness seems unnecessary to me. Especially since birthdays are so un-special. They're literally as common as human beings are. There are several each day. Odds are, someone's singing that awful song right now. More importantly, what's the significance in childbirth in the first place? Every mammalian species does it (discounting some genetic abominations, like the platypus, or some stupid flightless bird which isn't even a mammal really anyway). Whales give birth, and from what I hear, it's gross as hell. People swim in that all the time, especially if they live on a tropical island.
Think about that for a second. You're swimming in diluted whale placenta and poorly-aimed semen.

Happy birthday.

Cyber-Bullying is a Big Joke.

What's more, people who are irked by internet "bullying" for longer than the 10 seconds it takes to read whatever hate comments they recieve are wasting valuable time and emotion.

"Cyber-bullying" is probably the worst way to classify what should, in reality, be called "wearing out your keyboard at no benefit to anything." The fact that I've dedicated this much time already to the topic causes me more emotional distress than any one of the seven and almost a half billion other people on the face of this vast, crumbling celestial rock ever could. There is no merit to the battle against this phenomenon, and continuing to pursue a means of preventing individuals with soft hearts from being perturbed at length by random, negative comments (no matter how great in number) is like trying to stop wolves from killing for sport.

That's another, completely unrelated issue. Some wild animals are indeed sport hunters and you have to be born deficient to deny that. Get off your towering animal-rights activism horse.
That's an oxymoron.
People who take cyber-bullying seriously are oxymorons. Wait, I mean they're morons who breathe oxygen.

I'm no humanitarian, so the things I say may be construed as hostile. However, I'm just one person, on one particular and isolated piece of the internet. Which is my point, really. There is inherently little risk in speaking negatively of someone from quite possibly hundreds of kilometres away. Subsequently, anyone with a working computer and a semi-functional brain can say just about anything they please, often in an attempt to get a rise out of another person, or to fulfil some sort of misplaced sense of inadequacy.
Even more, according to Occam's Razor, perhaps they just want to "start shit."
Those who sit down with the intent to defame someone completely alien to them have less value than the text they manage to type out, through what are most likely grotesque, disfigured and twisted fingers, hands, faces, maybe a third eye, etc. These people should, in turn, be given as much time as they warrant, which happens to be none. Surprise.

Simultaneously, however, I'm not in the business of pandering to those who take comments such as these with anything more than a grain of salt. There is a substantial difference between offering criticism constructively and trying to cause a person mental turmoil. Most people can recognize this and differentiate; the next step being to disregard the iterations that are simply for the sake of torment. Thus, they are able to keep themselves from harm. You wouldn't get all upset and cut yourself if some street-demon with no concept of your existence told you that you were ugly and your life choices were poor (at least not if you're intelligent and have any idea how rarely strangers care about you), so maintain your thick skin, especially against an ignorant online persona. Many people should learn to do this, and quickly, because the world is much less friendly than the seclusion granted by this generation's development process would lead one to believe.

In some cases, people are stupid right off the cuff, doing things they wouldn't ordinarily do, thinking that the anonymity provided by this great technological advancement will provide some sort of barrier between what they've done on their computers and the reality in which they live. The truth is, this is reality, and they coexist. To think that, for instance, getting your breasts and/or testicles out, live, with a webcam, won't come back to bite you in them, is absurd. Especially when your face is visible.
Imagine the internet as if it's one big amusement park. The only one. Now, imagine that when people come here, they can say/do anything they want, to whoever they want, with a mask on. They only have to pay once a month for unlimited access. Lastly, imagine that parents freely and willingly pay for this luxury, and that provides everyone they talk to with the ability to attend this park.
Now stop imagining it, because that's what the fuck this is.
You have to be a retard to get your tits out at Disneyland, and they don't even get half the business that the internet does.
My point is that some people get what they deserve when they act like an idiot.

Now, don't mistake me. It isn't fair to try and ruin the entire home and online lives of businessmen because they weren't smart enough to have more than one password. Nor is it acceptable to drive people to suicide if they like getting naked online. However, if people were to practice a little discretion, or had some common sense, outcomes like these can be avoided completely. It's not the internet's fault for capitalizing on the mistakes of others, because we've been doing that since the conception of this species. This invention has only made opportunities to do so more widely available and frequent. This wouldn't be the case if those victimized would exercise some caution and took steps to keep their internet lives and their "real" ones as separate as possible.

Remember in King Kong when it turns out that we're actually the monsters? Killing the gorilla isn't going to save us from ourselves. He was behind the huge fence until that fat asshole let him out. The tribesmen had a good idea, keeping him on that island, close enough for us to visit, but not so close that we had to see his big hairy dick all the time.

For those of you who are a little slow, King Kong is a euphemism for the internet in this instance.Try and keep up.

Remakes Aren't "better" or "worse," They're Different.

I'm getting tired of people who automatically write-off remakes as though there was no effort put into creating something new. Often, the film in question isn't trying to adhere to any aspects of its predecessor, except for setting, or loosely, the plot. Granted, there have been many so-called remakes that seek to out-do the original, or copy it verbatim, and are miserable as a result, but the list of successful recreations is much longer and can't be ignored just because it shares the name and concept.

Complaining that a remake of an original film tries to one-up the previous by, for instance, revisiting scenes portrayed in the elder film exactly, defeats the purpose of the film. It's not a race to make something better; it's a retelling of the same situation. Instead of imagining the new film to be a young generation's way of telling the old that they're no good anymore, go into a remake as if it's a new adaptation of an idea. Film is an art form; to say, after someone creates a piece, that nobody can imagine the piece in a different way and portray it as such closes doors to entire genres and everything becomes rigid and uniform.

Don't reflexively hate on a new movie because you really like the old one. Don't even treat it like the old one. It's a new movie. That's the whole point. The retardation involved in this decision is mind-boggling to me. It's not the same movie. Often, it's not even trying to be the same movie, at all. Pay attention.

Now, I'm not trying to argue that every remake is an untouchable masterpiece. I'm not defending cash holes that recreate the entry before it scene-for-scene as a money grab. Many are awful, and often on a grander scale because there is an established standard which it, at least, has to live up to. However, remakes should be treated like any other movie, and given the benefit of the doubt until proven otherwise.

If anything, good remakes are great because the scrutiny from the public is so demanding already, without your crass nay-saying. Dick.

It's absurd to think that a new idea can't borrow from, pay homage to or cast an old idea in a different light without people thinking it sucks without giving it any chance whatsoever. New ideas are formed on the backbone of older ones; it's innovation. 

If you want to miss out on a perfectly good experience because it's "been done before," I suggest you stop watching movies altogether. As a matter of fact, you should never leave your house. No, don't even HAVE a house. find a hole in the forest, grab some twigs and leaves, and live there. Actually no, because that's been done before too. You know what? Just die.

Just DIE.

Apologies to anyone who read this on my Tumblr already. Sometimes, I feel as though my opinions deserve a wider audience than the 5-10 individuals who visit this site bi-monthly. This is one of those times.