Hey, This Is Horror. It’s been awhile. I love what you’ve done with the place in my absence. The blood splatter matches the drapes nicely. Hope life’s been treating you all well, with fingers and toes intact and loved ones accounted for… even if they’re locked in the basement. Hey, tough love is still love, right? Seeing as this is the first Horror of Babylon of 2013, I took a little walk down memory lane to reacquaint myself with where this column was heading, before collecting my trusty police chief and oceanographer and guiding this boat back out to find Mr. Shark. He’ll show his face sometime, I’m sure. Til then, let’s just chum the waters and see what happens.
One of the things I noticed about the old column is one of the things that actually kept me from reading very many columns in general. It was too damn long. Now, I’m as much of an avid reader as the next bibliophile, but I’m just not interested in committing to a novelty piece – daily, weekly, or monthly – that’s got the word count of a novella. I don’t care who’s written it or what it’s about, it’s a column and I don’t want to have to break it into two sittings to read. I guess you could say I’ve added an editor’s hat to my arsenal and while I’m thankful for it, it wasn’t my idea. So far this year, I’ve had the distinct pleasure of collaborating with great film editors and book editors alike. Names that really shine in their craft and not only deliver the goods, but also show how good we can be, just by easing up on the reins a bit and letting the machine do its job. Consequently, I’m less precious about my work than I used to be.
That said, as artists we still need to be discriminating, and it’s been slightly alarming to lift my head out of the sand and see what’s been masquerading as adult movie fare these days. I don’t know about you, but it concerns me when I’m at a function with other old folks (I turned 40 since we last talked, TIH!) and someone asks me what I thought of Iron Man 3. Well… I haven’t seen Iron Man 3 because I don’t go to children’s movies. When I have kids old enough to dig the superheroes, I’ll take them, but for me? No thanks. It’s a real comment on humanity’s current state of perpetual adolescence that seems to have thrown a wet blanket over how cool it used to be to be a grown-up. That’s horror. Or maybe I’m just curmudgeonly in my old age. I’m sure you’ll enjoy Justice League just fine. What’s that? Senior discount, you say? Well, go figure. And welcome to the new truncated Horror of Babylon, where we’ll hit it and quit it, then see you next month. Of course, that’s up to the editor now, isn’t it?
BC FURTNEY
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