JUNE
2010

Of late, my thoughts have centered on forgiveness…

There are many, people opposed to the genre in general, and in most cases the films produced, that ask repeatedly, often with a bewildered sneer, “How can you enjoy something that's so horrible? That's so dark? Isn't there enough real misery in the world?”

Well, the answer in short is yes, there certainly is enough real misery in the world. And I could make the case, as I have in the past on this site, about the need for catharsis; that much of horror reflects what Stephen King calls the pressure points of fear in each generation, and reading or watching horror enables people to have a better grasp on what keeps them awake and staring at the ceiling at night. During the 1950s the atom bomb released more oversized mutants, insects, and other creatures than you could shake a howitzer at. (Take a look, if you will, at the original Godzilla film with Raymond Burr, and notice how the scenes in the hospital feature burned, mummy-bandaged survivors of the initial attack on Tokyo , and understand how the Japanese people were still dealing with the aftermath of Hiroshima and Nagasaki .)

And it is certainly no coincidence to me that one of the most memorable scenes in the classic NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD features National Guardsman indiscriminately firing at the shambling Undead around them that at one time were their friends and neighbors. More than one critic has pointed out the uncomfortable parallels with newsreel footage of young soldiers in Vietnam at he time; images broadcast nightly on the six o'clock news.

So yes, there is catharsis. But I won't speak of that here. Rather, I'll touch again on the point that many critics miss; that Horror is not a wallowing in darkness, but actually a celebration of light, conceived as counterpoint to the horrible events that occurred earlier in the story or film. Put quite simple, I would hazard to guess that more than 85% of Horror films have a happy ending; the hero or heroine makes their way through the darkness, the evil is overcome, and dawn breaks over the horizon, chasing the shadows away (sometimes literally, in the case of many vampire epics). I believe that this percentage is higher than many mainstream dramas that are offered to the public.

(Side note here: yes, I understand that there is a wearying trend to have some final JUMP at the end of many horror films. I find this annoying in many cases, not the least of which because it has become a terrible cliché, to the point that it was often mocked on Mystery Science Theater 3000. There would be a slow pan in on a supposedly dead body, and the robots would chant, “Annnndddd…the eyes open up. And the eyes open up. And the eyes open up…” William Goldman, one of the premiere screenwriters of our time, once noted, “Endings are hard .” No argument there; many films, Horror and otherwise, have dissatisfying conclusions, so much so that we tend to jump to our feet and applaud the occasional correct ending.

And I understand that some films need a somber or nihilistic ending; witness the aforementioned NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD , as a prime example. But the jump ending and last bit of horror has become such a dead, beaten horse, that it's no longer a surprise; rather, it's almost a shock now when it doesn't occur! Mr. Romero himself understood this, and both his versions of DAWN OF THE DEAD and DAY OF THE DEAD forsake the downbeat ending and have some survivors actually escape the carnage and live to see another day…)

Still, for much of Horror fiction and film, there is a moment that, if not entirely happy, indicates that the darkness has passed, and a semblance of normality has been restored. Author John Skipp, in his marvelous essay in THE BOOK OF LISTS: HORROR edition, refers to these moments as “Face Of God” moments; they can occur anywhere in a narrative, but most often are found at the conclusion.

(I should warn you that I am about to reveal a huge amount of possible spoilers; please read ahead very carefully if you are only a casual peruser of our field.)

In the film from the television series TWIN PEAKS: FIRE WALK WITH ME , the murdered Laura Palmer sits with FBI Agent Dale Cooper in a red-curtained dreamscape, and an angel, shining with white light, hovers over their heads.

After the blood and thunder of THE EXORCIST draws to a close, a reborn Linda Blair turns before getting into the car carrying her away from her old home, and hugs the priest sent to investigate Father Karras's death.

After Rosemary has seen the results of her birth in ROSEMARY'S BABY , she looks down at her child with motherly love, and accepting him, begins to softly sing a lullaby.

Has anyone sat through BLADE RUNNER and not been left open-mouthed and teary-eyed at Roy Batty's final monologue: “ I've seen things you people wouldn't believe …”

In George Romero's DAY OF THE DEAD , the hero climbs up the missile silo, literally leaving the carnage in the underworld depths below and reaching up towards the light, in as powerful an analogy as I can conceive.

Of course, it isn't only in film that these moments occur. The conclusion of Bram Stoker's DRACULA finds Dr. Van Helsing sitting with Mina and Jonathan Harker, holding their child on his knee, a boy named after their friend Quincy Morris, who perished in the final confrontation with the vampire king.

In Peter Straub's GHOST STORY , Don Wanderley destroys the demonic force that had been tormenting his family and those in the town of Milburn , NY. As he does, e feels the sun rising, and the light radiating from him in triumph. He steps from his ruined car onto the beach, washing the sun rise over the ocean, and feels love everywhere, for himself and his fallen companions.

Stephen King, for all the darkness his name portends to the public, is quite big on emerging from the dark tunnel into the light in many of his novels and short stories, not the least of which include THE STAND , with the birth of Stu and Fran's baby; in FIRESTARTER , as young Charlie McGee walks into the offices of Rolling Stone magazine to tell her extraordinary tale and reveal the government's cover-up; in FROM A BUICK EIGHT as the son of a police officer obsessed with an alien artifact becomes an officer himself, and the artifact shaped like an old Buick slowly begins to crack and wear away, quite notably in his non-horror RITA HAYWORTH & THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION , where a condemned prisoner patiently waits thirty years, buoyed only by his own knowledge of his innocence, to make his escape from Shawshank Penitentiary, and most notably in THE DEAD ZONE , where the conclusion originally looks like a tragic ending…until all the facts are known and the final reveal takes place. But Johnny Smith knows the truth long before the reader does, and dies with a satisfied smile on his face.

All of these examples illustrate my contention; that Horror and Dark Fantasy are celebrations of light, overcoming the darkness in conflict and using catharsis for a final transcendence (a marvelous word). And that's a very optimistic form of artistic expression.

But what of forgiveness? That's something a bit different. Many of the examples above reach their transcendence after a final battle, sometimes epic in proportions, with evil thoroughly defeated. But the transcendence of forgiveness, of letting the darkness live with its own conscience, of leaving the anger and hatred behind and releasing it…that's an even rarer occurrence, and admittedly, much more difficult to write. But it is done, and never more effectively than in the genre we love. And when it occurs, the effect can be electric…

In Mary Shelly's FRANKENSTEIN , the novel concludes with Victor Frankenstein, lying in a berth on the Antarctic explorer ship, dying. His creation enters the room and delivers an anguished forgiveness for the tragedy that had befallen them, then, as Frankenstein breathes his last, the Monster abandons the ship, and sails off on an ice flow into the stark grey twilight.

After rescuing the boys Will and Jim from Dark's Pandemonium Carnival in Ray Bradbury's SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES , Mr. Dark makes one last attempt to trick Charles Halloway into his clutches by appearing as a small, frightened boy. But Halloway sees through Dark's disguise, and, rather than attempting to destroy Dark, takes him into his arms and offers love. Dark cannot face this, and perishes.

When young Meg returns to the planet Camazotz in Madeleine L'Engle's A WRINKLE IN TIME to rescue her brother, whose soul has been taken by the planet's ruler It , meg is told she has a power greater than anything It possesses. She discovers that power is love, and although she can't love It , she can love her brother, and brings him back from the darkness.

When the creatures in Colin Wilson's THE SPACE VAMPIRES are found by members of their own alien race, they are put on trial for their crimes of feeding on humanity as the source of vampire myths. When the realization of what they have done reaches them, they choose to commit suicide rather than return to their home planet, so great is their despair for their actions.

At the conclusion of the original theatrical release of JACOB'S LADDER , Jacob Singer, unaware yet that he is dead, returns to his old apartment he shared with his family. The doorman smiles at him, “Welcome home, Dr. Singer” (And how often have we referred to those who have passed on as having been “called home” ?) he rest on the couch, then hears a sound on the stairs. It's his dead son playing. They embrace, then climb the long stairway into a brilliant white light. The guilt and grief he's felt for his son's loss evaporates, and Jacob can go to meet his own demise.

(Interestingly, when the film was recut, there was a final battle inserted between Jacob and a demonic force, a battle cut from the original release. I can only assume it was restored because the studio demanded ACTION! The film actually worked much better with the quiet ending minus the fireworks.)

Perhaps the author who works in the realm of forgiveness best, in my experience, is Neil Gaiman. In many of his SANDMAN tales, as well as his other novels, evil is not overcome by thunder and warfare, but by a quiet understanding and coming to terms with what has gone on before. A madman who controls the world releases all types of night horrors on an unsleeping earth; when the Dream King arrives to stop him, he takes the madman home, and sends the world into a deep, dreamless sleep to heal. A child molester and murderer is confronted by his victims in never-ending dream; they forgive him and invite him to play with them in innocence. Lucifer, when confronted in Hell by the Dream King, cuts his own wings off and abdicates his throne rather than battle to defend it. (“I thought we were going to fight,” Morpheus says plaintively.) The tale ends with the Devil sitting on a beach, thanking God for his sunsets, which are “bloody marvelous”. In the novel STARDUST , an evil witch, who has killed many and wants to possess the soul of a living star to retain her beauty, comes finally before her prey as a withered husk of her formal self, and the star sends her home with a kiss and pity.

No other author does this as well, in my opinion; Mr.Gaiman is a master, and wrings every last bit of character pathos from each situation. No villain, from Darth Vader to MacBeth, is truly villainous in his own eyes, and Mr. Gaiman forces us to see the person behind the evil deeds; flawed, frightened, and failing, a straw man most often blow apart in the winds of truth and kindness and justice.

Perhaps at a time in humanity, when men are pitted against each other politically, culturally, in race and creed and core values, we would do well to take these lessons from our genre and see beyond the sound bites and posturing and polarizing that so often accompanies heated debate. When difficulty arises maintaining friendships, communicating honestly with loved ones, honoring and respecting those who wound or reject us, we would do well to remember the humanity behind the conflict, and that a soft word turns away anger and resentment.

It's not easy, by any means; just as it's easier to write a narrative where good conquers evil in a flash of sound and fury. But it is often more rewarding, even if you may feel the other hasn't earned forgiveness. In its purest form, it isn't always for those doing the wronging; often it's for the wronged as well.

There is a marvelous book named THE SHACK , written by William P. Young. It is a religious fable, a parable, concerning a man whose child has been murdered, who encounters God at an isolated shack in the mountains. Even though I believe much of the book is awkwardly written, I find many of the ideas thought-provoking. (For those without a particular religious bent, I urge you to consider it in the same vein as “The Screwtape Letters” and some of Vonnegut's work.) Towards the conclusion of the novel, God urges the man to try to forgive the murderer of his daughter. Naturally, the man rebels; he can't ever forget what the man did to his daughter. God tells him, “Forgiveness is not about forgetting. It is about letting go of another person's throat...”

I think that sums everything up. We forgive for ourselves as for anyone else. It releases; I do believe I'm discussing catharsis again. It's a way to grow, and an alternate path to follow. And it's ironically often best offered to those who do not always deserve it.

It may sound like we're wandering far afield from Horror literature and drama, but if the genre is truly a celebration of light instead of darkness, then it's also alternate path that we choose to explore in our own lives. May your paths be as enlightening.

“Bless the daytime,
Bless the night;
Bless the sun which gives us light;
Bless the thunder,
Bless the rain;
Bless all those who cause us pain…

Bless the free man,
Bless the slave;
Bless the hero in his grave;
Bless the soldier,
Bless the saint;
Bless all those whose hearts grow faint…”  

MAY
2010

Some rumination on the past several months…

* * * * * * *

It's been quite some time since I've written. How have things been? More importantly, what kind of a year has it been? 

It's astonishing; it has been close to a full year since I put thought to paper, in a symbolic way, here in my Crypt. So much has happened in that time; some good, some that could have been better, and some not terribly pleasant at all.

My human companion Bob went through some difficult times; he has been separated from someone he cares about very much. In addition, he has lost some people that he was very close to during the year, including someone he considered a mentor. (My Cousin's movements across the earth are intractable.) Still, as always, we move on, and do the best we can.

For myself, I have been able to journey again, visiting some places that have meant a great deal to me in the past (such as NetherWorld in Atlanta ), reacquainting myself with past companions and welcoming new ones. On a somber note, I too have lost some friends and fellow travelers, including one of my original Patient Creatures. That was a sad time, and as notable for the passing of an era as any other I can imagine.

On the whole, the year contained much sorrow and much joy, sometimes in equal measure, sometimes with one overcasting the other. I've parted company with an organization that I've been involved with for several years, although I am still friendly with many current members. There were hundreds of people that took part in the benefit concert for Dr. Creep last July, filling a park with love and adoration; yet that gentle and good man is still dogged by ill health. I've lost some venues for performing, and have been welcomed into others. I've learned new tales, and forgotten others, until reminded.

The world goes on in much the same way: there are still wars being fought in far-off lands; we are closer than we've appeared before to a cure for cancer, yet the disease continues to take friends and loved ones. There is political anger in the nation, but no clear target to direct it against.

In our genre, there are still needless remakes of films trying to capitalize on past successes, each one seemingly more dismal than the last, while courageous independent voices and artists are relegated to cable television and direct-release DVDs. Stephen King is still writing, despite his previous threats of retirement, and his son Joe Hill looks to be making a strong name in the field himself. The HorrorHound convention during the fall in Indiana boasted the largest collection of HorrorHosts ever assembled in one location, usurping the past record held at Cinema Wasteland (in which *ahem* I took part); yet many of these hosts are laboring with love on public access and the Internet, because broadcast television has no space for them, choosing to fill their hours of programming with infomercials.

What kind of year has it been? I would hazard to guess that it has been pretty much a year like any other; the best of times, the worst of times, as Mr. Dickens put it so eloquently. This is not to minimize the pain and loss experienced by those who've known sorrow; it's merely to note that, as is most often the case, the pain will pass, and life will get better. And once it has, it will get worse again. (A very Irish way of looking at the world…) And the cycle will continue unabated until…when? Until it is finished, of course.

It seems to me that journeys are an apt metaphor for existence itself; life (or afterlife, and whatever is beyond that) is a constant moving forward; looking back only slows down the venture and obscures the vision of what may be ahead. This doesn't mean we shouldn't treasure the past; indeed, memory is a wonderful device for recalling some of our best experiences. But dwelling on them too much is folly; we cannot return to the past, and on those very rare occasions that we do, we should recognize it as the blessing it truly is.

A wonderful song by the Scottish songwriter Dougie MacLean puts it succinctly:

“Now I have moved and I've kept on moving;
Proved the points that I needed proving;
Lost the friends that I needed losing,
Found others on the way…
I have kissed the ladies and left them crying;
Stolen dreams, yes there's no denying
I have traveled hard with coattails flying
Somewhere in the wind…”

What kind of year has it been? A 365-day one, with another one waiting to begin…

* * * * * * *

What kind of a year has it been? It's been a year that's seen an old nemesis raise his ugly head yet again.

Jack Chick Publications produces comic book material featuring Christian Fundamentalist propaganda. I know those are emotionally loaded words; however, one look at Mr. Chick's website and the material therein, and I would defy anyone to come up with a more accurate description. The tracts published are filled with Hell-fire, intolerance, bigotry, anti-science sentiment and a disdain for anyone who doesn't toe the line set forth by his very narrow world view.

I offer no apologies. Anyone who has met me or followed my scribblings here from my Crypt know that I'm loathe to disparage anybody's belief systems or values. I try and stay far from the political, simply because much of the debate doesn't really concern those of us that straddle the plains of existence.

But Mr. Chick brought the battle onto my terrain, as it were, with his continual denigration of the October Season, spouting the old myths that Halloween is a satanic holiday celebrated by heathens, Pagans, and blasphemous malcontents, and that anyone with a bent towards the macabre is earning themselves a ticket straight to damnation. (Which should come as a surprise to the many genuine heathens and Pagans that I know…)

Year after year Mr. Chick has published special Halloween tracts filled with bile and brimstone, aimed directly at those who might, shall we say, disagree with his interpretation of facts. The most unsettling and vile one, in my humble opinion, is one titled “The Haunted House”. In it, Timmy and his friends visit a haunted house on Halloween; Timmy becomes so scared that he runs from the house into the street, and is promptly hit by a car and killed. While his friends mourn his passing, one boy's mother tells him that Timmy is doomed to Hell because he wasn't saved, and is now in eternal torment.

Isn't that a lovely message to send to those who may have lost loved ones during holidays? “I'm sorry your daughter died; since she didn't worship the correct way, she's burning in Hell. Merry Christmas!” I think it was this appalling insensitivity that raised my ire as much as anything.

(And let me state again that I will not disparage anybody else's beliefs. If you honestly think Halloween is a satanic romp, please don't celebrate it. If you think it violates your personal religious or moral tenets, by all means stay at home, and bless you. But don't cast a pall over those who may think differently, and for pity's sake don't condemn a soul to eternal torment without considering every possibilities, including the feelings of the families.

And while I am not an expert on religious matters, I think I can speak assuredly on two points: one, when God chooses to judge a soul, it will be His judgment alone, and His to bestow mercy and grace on the worst, if He so decides. And two, He will likely not consult Mr. Chick or anyone else on the wisdom of that decision…)

Last year I was heartened that the Halloween tract called “The Little Ghost” was far gentler than other years, giving me to hope that perhaps we can all just get along, agree to disagree, and find room to compromise. Alas, I fear that hope was short lived. (And please pardon my not providing a link to these tracts; I don't intend to give this gentleman more attention that necessary.It can be found easily enough on Google, if your curiosity is morbid enough.)

In March, a church in Tennessee caught flak for distributing an anti-Catholic tract called “The Death Cookie”. (Fascinating title, yes? Another of Mr. Chick's favorite themes is that the Catholic Church is not a true religion; that it has a satanic foundation, and is turning souls towards damnation. Mr. Chick speaks a lot about damnation; oddly, “love your neighbor as yourself” is rarely mentioned…) The tract had made its way into the local high school to be handed out, and needless to say, the town's Catholics were none too pleased to find themselves depicted as being enslaved to a false religion.(Now who could have foreseen that happening?)

The pastor of the local Baptist Church , who was distributing the tract, issued an apology to the Catholics in the community. “Looking back, I don't think it was the right tract to give out. I have some others that wouldn't have been as offensive.”

Ahhhhh, humanity; you fascinate me. Sometimes you rise on angel's wings to accomplish the impossible; you demand that your reach exceed your grasp; you climb ladders, reach down and pull them up behind you, and keep climbing. What a piece of work is Man; how noble in reason, how infinite in faculty; in form and moving how express and admirable. Sometimes in crisis and desperation, when things are at their worst, you are truly made in His image, and at your best.

And other times you are dumber than sackfulls of hammers.

Now, to be absolutely fair, that was an older tract, from 1988. But the October celebration is coming, and the concern is what will greet us this year? Will it offer compromise, or condemnation. Right now, we cannot tell for certain.

But we will be watching closely, won't we? Yes we will…

* * * * * * *

 What kind of a year has it been? Obviously, it's been a year of zombies and vampires. And I'm puzzled…

Look, I don't want to boast, but I am intimately acquainted with the genre I labor in. And I am well aware of the iconic status of both these archetypes. And you'll get no disagreement from me there; it's a status well-earned.  You'll find no larger fan of the vampire in literature ( Dracula , ‘Salem's Lot and Interview With A Vampire occupy honored positions on my bookshelf, although my affection for Ms. Rice's work did not engage me to seek out its various sequels) and film (among my personal classics are Nosferatu , Mr. Lee's Horror Of Dracula , the adaptations of ‘Salem's Lot and Interview , Near Dark and of course Mr. Lugosi's turn as the vampire king…). And I step to the back of the bus for no one in my admiration for the work of Mr. Romero, whose seminal work includes the famous trilogy that earned him acclaim, as well as the follow-ups that display his craft ( Survival Of The Dead is currently in theaters).

No, I cannot argue with the popularity of these works, or their place in Horror history. Rather, looking at what is emerging from Hollywood , the independent cinema and Publisher's Row, is the nagging refrain from that old Peggy Lee tune: “Is that all there is…?”

Look in any newspaper listing, turn to any genre magazine, and it seems that the only subjects fit for pen or celluloid are these two denizens of the darkness. I mean, really! In the past year we've had The New Dead: A Zombie Anthology , Bite Me , American Zombie Gothic , The Waking , Zombies Of Mass Destruction , Bite: A Vampire's Handbook , Pinocchio: Vampire Slayer (which was actually really good), Dead Snow , Dead Girl , Edges Of Darkness , Zombie Strippers , The Strain , 23 Hours , Blood Ties , The Vampire Diaries , Thirst , Blood: The Last Vampire , and Impaler .

Now, I understand that today's filmmakers are inspired by what excited them in their youth. And again, I acknowledge the body of work posited by Mr. Romero and his followers. And yes, having worked in the haunted attraction and performance industry, I am well aware of budgetary constrictions. Mix up some latex, color some kayro syrup, add shredded clothing and some cheap props from last year's Halloween store sale, and voila! You have the budget for the latest zombie film. Buy some entrails and stuffing from your friendly local meat distributor, set the camera (or let the audience into the haunted house) and you've got nightmares on a budget, coming soon to the Blockbuster near you.

(And if that sounded more condescending that I intended, I apologize; I really do understand the concept of homage, and not in the sneering way that term is often used.)

But we are a genre that encompasses the entire history of literature, from folk tales told around a primitive campfire to medieval manuscripts to the Bible to modern paperbacks and I Pads. Our authors include Twain, Dickens, Shakespeare, Hawthorne, Poe, Updike, Oates, Bradbury, Serling, Chayesfsky, and too many others to list. Filmmakers as diverse as Roman Polanski, Stanley Kubrick, John Frankenheimer, Werner Herzog, Carl Dreyer, and Rouben Mamoulian have felt the urge to take a dip in our pool of the macabre, with fascinating results.

What I'm getting at, is there is so much more out there , more than some “fans” can possibly imagine! (And I don't put “fans” in quotes to denigrate them; rather I use it honestly. There are people who consider themselves horror aficionados who simply don't know any better , who have no idea of the rich heritage that we celebrate in this field; who have idea who H. P. Lovecraft is, for heaven's sake!)  

Did you know, that prior to, say 1969 (and the release of a certain Black & White drive-in classic) zombies didn't eat flesh? Or brains? That they mostly rose from the dead to stare blank eyed into nothingness and work on southern or Caribbean plantations (or in the case of Hammer, a Scottish tin mine? Did you know that prior to Mr. Romero's Land Of The Dead ; the creatures weren't referred to as “zombies”? Just “the living dead”? (I phrase I much prefer.) Did you know that at one time, vampires were soulless creatures determined to suck the life substance from humans , without any thoughts of romance or Gothic longing? And that they never ever once sparkled, not even standing in the rain?

(All right, I apologize; that last one was condescending...)

Listen; I'm not trying to change your mind; not really. (Well, perhaps just a tiny bit...only a little...) This is America , and you do possess free will, despite what some sects might have you believe. If your sole sense of horror is watching rotting corpses chew on screaming victims, be my guest. If you want to wallow in deep, brooding romance between sulking lovers from two very different worlds, have at it, and enjoy.

What I am suggesting is: should you tire of these templates, there are riches beyond your imagination that await you if you choose to delve into this macabre and magical medium; dreams and nightmares beyond your wildest longings, all waiting patiently for you to expand your horizons. And it doesn't have to be a full immersion; stop into a used book store and pick up some Lovecraft for $1.00. If you don't like it? Bring it back, and exchange it for something more to your tastes. Go onto NetFlix and try one of Mr. Romero's other movies (my personal favorite, and I believe his best? Ironically, a vampire film named Martin ). If it's not your style? You subscribe to their service monthly; what have you lost? Send it back and try again.

Do you know why the Horror community is talking and blogging and going more than slightly berserk for the film The Human Centipede ? (Mention of which you will never find again on this website...) Because it's not a remake; not a reimagining, not the fourteenth adaptation of a novel that may have seen better days. It's different, unlike anything else. In the parlance, Nobody Has Ever Seen Anything Like It . 

Dip your toe into the deep pool of dread. Try something new. Who knows? It may be more rewarding than you could dream. And you're welcome.

* * * * * * *

I leave you with a question; those who are well-acquainted with the joys of this peculiar dark domain:

One thing that I've been doing on my sabbatical is reading. reading, and more reading. It occurred to me as well traveled and knowledgeable as I may be (I say with all due modesty), there are some works in the genre that I have neglected; classic that I've heard high praise for that I've never quite gotten around to exploring.

(And I offer a tip of the cowl to Rue Morgue Magazine. On the last page of each issue is the section called Classic Cuts , and monthly it examines obscure (and sometimes not-so-obscure) books, films, televisions shows, radio series, operas, plays, cartoons, comics, and other works that touch upon our field that the average person might not be familiar with. It's a wonderful reference, and I recommend it unreservedly.)

I've been haunting second-hand book shops in the past few months, and have found a plethora of treasures, included the script of the classic BBC series The Quatermass Experiment , Ray Bradbury's Dark Carnival , Fritz Lieber's The Big Time , Dean Koontz original version of Demon Seed (before he revised it, to it's detriment, in my opinion), and other marvels. I've just finished Colin Wilson's The Space Vampires, which was made into the movie Lifeforce (wonderful, dark novel; abysmal film; avoid it at all costs, in the name of humanity), and am about to start on William Hope Hodgson's The House On The Borderland . I've been enjoying myself immensely, if somewhat sheepishly, that I've let so many great works pass me by.

So...the question, one I posed to my HorrorHost companions a year or so ago, but I now expand somewhat.

If you are a rabid fan of this Dark Fantasy field...what classic movie, book, television show, etc....regarded by everyone as an actual classic in the genre...what are you embarrassed to admit that you haven't seen or read, for whatever reason?

(When this was asked of the Horror Writers Association - professionals in the Horror field, mind you - some were embarrassed to admit that they'd never once read Shelly's Frankenstein , or Stoker's Dracula , or Stevenson's Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde ; seminal works in the field. It was quite astonishing, and quite fun to hear the mea culpas . I'm certain many rushed out after answering that question to read those exact works, and another good deed is done.)

So...which ones haven't you read, or seen, even though you always meant to? Please email me your answers at carpathian@patientcreatures.com. I expect the answers will be fascinating, and equally as fun.

Until next time...I've got some reading to do. Please excuse me.  

JUNE - JULY
2009

This one, this month, is for my adult friends; my young companions will want to skip these particular musings and return next month.

I rarely intrude myself in the day to day politics of the human world; one, because I am not part of that world, although I hover on the cusp with alarming regularity, and two, because politics in the long run are an incredibly unstable vehicle to hang a society on. Humanity is much more complicated than most pundits and purists would have you believe, and the idea of a born-again, pro-life NRA-member conservative sitting down and enjoying a meal and a laugh with an atheist, pro-choice pacifistic liberal is not as far-etched as the television stations and newspapers (some with a vested interested in keeping the classes divided; controversy sells more newspapers and air-time, after all) would have you believe.

Having immersed myself in a seething mass of humanity for the ten years I had my own theater at Six Flags America Fright Fest, I can state with certainty that individuals who hold diametrically opposing world views can come together and enjoy the company of one another without engaging in the blood sports that seem to pass for current political debate. All it takes is the ability to look beyond our differences at the values that we hold in similarity. This sounds ridiculously simple, but dropping all defenses and simply acknowledging that all can agree to disagree on most viewpoints is not a difficult thing once one puts ego, fear, prejudice and other barriers on the table for later collection. (If one wishes; some find it more than beneficial to leave them behind all together, but that's a discussion for another time...)

Nevertheless, even with an enlightened attitude, one can encounter prejudice in the most genial of circumstances. I have spoken in the past of mothers seeing me approaching and quickly placing their hands over their children's eyes, assuming (without knowing my intentions, or observing their young one's reactions) that I am a frightful presence and will cause anxiety in their offspring. I've pointed this out many times in the past; please forgive me for repeating myself. The fact is that the parents are reacting to their OWN fears, and projecting those fears on their children. (And oftimes it's a self-fulfilling prophesy; if you slap you hand over a young person's eyes, they are immediately going to become agitated: "What's going on? Why can't I see? What's happening...?")

I've spoken in the past on how I approach a timid little soul: entirely on THEIR terms. I keep my distance, offer my hand, speak softly, get down on their eye level, and let THEM make the choice. Oftimes they are won over; sometimes they are not. Too often adults, attempting to intervene in the situation before it is completely played out, will offer useless bits of wisdom designed to help calm the child's fears, but often having the opposite effect: "Oh, he's not real." (Of course he is; he's standing right in front of me.) "Oh, he's just make believe." (Again, what part of 'he's standing right in front of me' are you having trouble understanding?) "Oh, he's just a man in a costume." (Oh, that's SO reassuring; he's not a real ghost, he's only a scary man in a scary costume. Thank you for the morale boost...)

(And although I'm certainly self-aware enough to realize that my...um...rather STRIKING features can be intimidating to small people, I wish to point out that right jolly old elf, Santa Claus, also has this difficulty. As well as clowns, Easter Bunnies, people on stilts, knights in armor, ad infinitum. Anything out of the child's normal frame of reference can be disturbing. That's why grandparents and older people are often met with the same fears...)

The parents try and intervene, but often fail at what they do because they don't understand. They are doing something wrong, but with the absolute best of intentions.

Remember that last phrase; we will return to it.

There are other times I've experienced prejudice first hand at the actions of adults. Most often this occurs during the October Season. While I enjoy the Halloween holiday and all its traditions, certain conservative congregations and denominations across the country (and around the world, for that matter) consider Halloween a 'Satanic' celebration, a 'dark' holiday, and find the traditions controversial and unseemly, if not outright blasphemous. I have explained in the past that those who enjoy the feel of the leaves crunching under the feet, the smell of the crisp cold October air, and the sensation of the mist rolling through the pumpkin patch while creatures dance around bonfires in the night do not embrace darkness - they simply aren't afraid of it. Sadly, in my opinion, some people cannot separate the medium from the message, and cannot allow themselves to enjoy the exhilaration of the Autumn Time.

Some years ago, while I was performing at the Norristown Zoo in PA for their Halloween event, I overheard snatches of a conversation between two employees, both wearing somber expressions. I asked what might be the matter, and one said," We have some protestors outside the gate."

Protestors?

"Yes; a local church. They believe Halloween is evil and shouldn't be celebrated, and are picketing outside the main entrance."

I nodded, "I see.I'll be right back." I started off.

"Where are you going?"

"Why, to talk to them, of course."

And I did. I met a rather large gentleman outside the gate and engaged him in a discussion. He was soft-spoken but firm in his beliefs; polite; an absolute gentleman in all respects. I also remained polite and courteous, as was my want. We drew a bit of a crowd as we discussed our beliefs concerning the holiday. (He did seem surprised that I was able to quote scripture back to him as readily as he was able to quote it to me.) Our conversation lasted several minutes; at the end, we shook hands and went our ways.

Neither had changed the other's mind one bit, I'm certain, but we had remained civil, cordial, and respectful, and I think that went a long way to softening perceptions on BOTH sides o the argument. It was a meeting on whatever common ground we could agree on, and it wasn't remotely unpleasant, which bolstered my opinion expressed at the beginning of this essay.

But...I still believe the people protesting were wrong. I think it well and good to hold your own beliefs, and I will defend your absolute right to express those said beliefs whenever you wish; but to try and impose your beliefs or exert your will onto others is, again in my opinion, a disrespectful waste of time and energy.

And yet again, I believe those people were doing something wrong, but with the absolute best of intentions.

Which brings me to something here in on the Lost Coast (and in all of California ) called Proposition 8.

For those unaware of what has been happening here for some time, last year the California Supreme Court struck down laws that kept gay couples from marrying each other, finding this practice discrimination, and against the Constitutional right of equality for all. Dismayed at this, various groups sponsored an amendment to the state Constitution called Proposition 8, which would forbid gay marriages. The Proposition passed narrowly last November, and after a hearing before the California Supreme Court once again recently, was allowed to stand. (Take note: the court was not asked to decide the correctness of the amendment, but whther it followed the established procedures and could be enacted. It was, in my opinion, a very narrow ruling.)

Obviously, to myself and others who believe in equality and freedom for everyone, this was very disappointing. There was much heat generated, with misleading advertisements, news bulletins, debates, vandalism, and general animosity and rancor on both sides. It was the most expensive election campaign in California history, with much of the money coming from outside the state. I find it shameful, but like much else with this debate, that is simply a matter of individual opinion.

What is offered as fact?

Those who support the right of gay marriage do so under the simple doctrine that freedom means freedom for all, not just some. Unless it is intended to incite violence or mayhem (such as shouting "FIRE!" in a crowded theater), everyone has the right to express their beliefs - which is why the KKK and American Nazi Party are allowed to hold parades and march just as often as the World War II Veterans and the Daughters of the American Revolution. No one has the right to SUPRESS such speech; you DO have the right to ignore it, disagree with it, and offer YOUR opinion on it - just as long as you don't censor the other's right to OFFER it.

Rights for one are rights for all.

Those who oppose gay marriage, in my opinion, have no logical reason to offer in their defense, save for religious and personal anecdotal offerings. But no two religions agree on everything (otherwise there wouldn't be so many denominations in the world) so who to we use as an arbitrator. Regardless, in the United States we are offered the choice of freedom FROM religion as much as freedom OF religion.

I have seen printed tracts (usually from the abominable Jack Chick Publications) that opine that Catholics are in league with the powers of Hell, attempting to control the world, and the Pope himself is a satanic emissary. What if in some Fundamental section of the country; say in the southern Bible Belt where Baptists and other Fundamentalist denominations hold sway; they decided to vote on whether or not Catholics could marry, using their religious beliefs as political arguments.

Ridiculous, you say? But that is what happened here.

There are also those who offer the fact that the gay lifestyle is perverted, or an abomination, or unnatural. But once we get past the squeamish squishiness of what they might do in the bedroom together, what can these offer in respect to an "unnatural lifestyle". That it's against nature? Humans have been flaunting their dependence on nature since glasses, dentures, heart valves, stainless steel kneecaps, hearing aids, toupees, razors (for shaving beards) and artificial limbs were created. We create vaccines so that children do not die of childhood diseases; surely this is "against nature". Should we allow them to die to preserve natural order?

It is because they cannot bear children without artificial aid? What do we say to straight couples, infertile women and men, who face the same situation? That THEY cannot marry?

There are those that argue that "Civil Unions" are as good as marriages, and gay couples should be happy to accept those and leave marriage to "tradition". But Separate But Equal has not been the rule since Ruby Bridges walked into William Franz Public School on November 14, 1960. It simply cannot happen in a country dedicated to freedom for all.

One wonders what all the fuss is about. Why should someone else's lifestyle impact on another's? Are we not a nation of proud individuals, declining to be in lock-step with anyone else? Other than some vague wording about how this will have an affect on society (something the critics never entirely spell out), what is the objection? Morality? But morality is incredibly ill-defined in the best of circumstances, often not being black or white, and humanity's ethics have a way of shifting when the situation turns the spotlight on their own behavior. (And if you don't believe that, witness an example of a firm defender of law and order be pulled over for speeding and bullied by an overzealous police officer, or watch the stern anti-drinking-and-driving advocate try to slide behind the wheel of their vehicle after a bit too much celebration…people are far more tolerant of their OWN hypocrisies than they are of their neighbors…)

Even the religious argument holds little water when examining closely the scriptural lessons taught by the gospels. Christ held those that passed harsh and unmerciful judgments on others in the highest contempt (his language pillorying the Pharisees is often hair-raising) and quite often put forward the idea that the SUPREME judge, God himself, would be the one to make the final decision, and all trust in that decision should be put into his infallible hands. Until that time, love your neighbor as you would yourself, judge not that ye yourselves will not be judged, never set yourself against a man who wrongs you, and other radical bits of philosophy…

My friend Ms. Tina is an incurable optimist, and I bless her for it; the world is short too many of these. She believes that ANY day can be a good day, and happiness is a choice you make each morning. She believes that fully. But it is also understood that the universe can be coldly impartial to happiness and compassion, and that anyone who finds however small a piece of happiness in the vastness of this temporal plane should clasp it too them dearly always, and anyone who would try to LIMIT this precious supply should find themselves ashamed.

I have no doubt that the people opposing gay marriage, and in favor of Proposition 8, believe themselves to be good, upstanding, deeply passionate and honorable people, and I will not take them to task or quarrel. But in this instance they are off the mark as far as they can possibly be.

They are doing something wrong, but with the absolute best of intentions.

But the best of intentions pave a road to a dark, searing and desolate domain, and all who help place the mortar and brick on that highway should pause and think carefully.

In closing, I offer something light and sardonic to hopefully amuse and cause thought and discussion. This short, satirical musical was written in response to the original vote, and became one of the most popular pieces of film on YouTube. I offer it to raise a smile in the midst of heated argument:

http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/c0cf508ff8/prop-8-the-musical-starring-jack-black-john-c-reilly-and-many-more-from-fod-team-jack-black-craig-robinson-john-c-reilly-and-rashida-jones

No doubt there will be some who disagree with my opinion, and wonder why someone not even human would concern himself with a political issue. As I stated in the beginning, I am hesitant to do this at any time. But I found this one time when silent sadness would no suffice.

Humanity is not restricted to the human form, nor should it be.

And if you disagree, please feel free to engage me in discussion; I am more than delighted to oblige. But let it be calm, and rational, and courteous; anything else would be mere sound and fury, and signify nothing.

Consider limitations…

There's a group of individual storytellers located here on the Lost Coast that met under the loose affiliation of The North Coast Storytellers. (I've mentioned them several times in previous posts, and some members past and present such as Seabury Gould and Paul Woodland have become valued companions in many of my performances.) They meet monthly at the Ink People's Center for the Performing Arts in Eureka to plan events and performances, centering mainly on the annual Stories By The Seas Festival in Trinidad that they produce. As I am a member of the organization and host the “Mostly Ghostly” event at the Festival, I try to wander over and haunt each meeting when they occur.

In past meetings, various venues have been discussed; performance halls in Humboldt County, events like the Medieval Festival of Courage and Humboldt Arts Festival, and coffeehouses like Old Town Coffee and Muddy's Hot Cup. Many times tellers have complained about inattentive crowds, restless youngsters and distracting situations at the larger venues; a lack of a sound system or designated seating for the audience, or a bustle of clanging noise and activity as baristas try and fill espresso orders. Many wistfully wish for a much more ideal setting, where the audience pays strict attention, everyone can hear clearly, and the performance carries the day.

Having performed at Renaissance Faires, Dark Fantasy and Horror conventions and amusement parks, I can certainly sympathize. Having to out shout knights on horseback, autograph seekers, Celtic bands, roller coasters and other cacophony, one certainly longs for the opportunity to tell quiet, involved tales in a sitting room setting, with dark mood lighting, audience members sunk deeply into comfortable chairs leaning forward, hanging on every word enraptured, hearing each nuance clearly and succinctly.

Indeed, that would be ideal. And, as the saying goes, if pork had wings, we'd have many more eagles in our skies…

For despite my ectoplasmic and corporeal being, I am a spirit much like Ms. Madonna, living firmly in the material world, and just as utopia is a small town in upstate New York , Ideal is simply a toy company. And a defunct one at that.

When I played in my Patient Creatures Theater in Six Flags America's Fright Fest outside Washington DC, I had to tell bloodcurdling ghost stories to a constant backdrop of screaming teenagers on spinning Tilt-A-Whirls, train whistles from the Midnight Express (whose tracks ran just past the theater), Halloween rock music played over the park's loudspeakers, and the occasional siren from the Strong Man's Booth just outside our one door, where customers would try and launch a small weight up 20 feet by hitting a seesaw with an enormous hammer, often succeeding and triggering electronic cries of “We…have…a…WINNER!!!”

I performed here to crowds that included teenagers who'd seen every NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET film and weren't a bit intimidated by a spectre telling folktales, families stopping in to rest their feet after standing in line for 30 minutes for the next batch of funnel cakes, and children that were begging their parents to take them NOW to the Trick-Or-Treat Trail so that they could fill their tote bags with candy. In this atmosphere, I was expected to hold the attention of the audience with a subtle spooky tale of hauntings and horror, without any lights, music or special effects.

And...(*ahem*…coughs into hand modestly)…for the most part I was able to do just that.

One, because a good live performance can match any DVD, movie or television episode in its very immediacy; Two, because for the most part the audiences were infallibly polite and attentive, and Three…well, because I had no choice. This was the hand dealt to me, and I decided to play it as fairly and ably as possible, with the sky the limit.

It's amazing what you can accomplish when you literally have no say in the matter. You take all the skills learned and honed and accrued to that point, take a deep breath, and plunge in. This is true as to whether you're running a marathon, typing the first page of a thousand-word novel, calling “Action!” on the first scene of your first film production…or telling a tale.

Like toning your body, increasing the amount of pushups slowly day-by-day or the distance run, limitations can actually make you stronger, tone your reflexes, and forge you into something more powerful than you were the day before. Money alone cannot buy talent or craft; it is bought and paid for by ingenuity, thinking on your feet and working your way around any problem encountered by relying on hours of practice and preparation.

By confronting the limitations set upon you and working around them or through them, you can create Art (with a capital A) from what might have simply been competence. Do you need some examples?

Stephen King's early life experiences were daunting, and have been well documented. He wrote CARRIE and ‘ SALEM 'S LOT in the laundry room of the mobile home he was living in, the typewriter balanced on his lap. Money was short, tempers were frayed, and there was a sense of desperation in his life. By writing through these obstacles, and by using his frustrations and fears as catharsis, he was able to create a dark disturbing vision of high school hatred and small-town paranoia that connected with his reading audience, making the drama bite very hard. When his drinking began to take hold of him he literally poured his demons out onto the printed page; the result was THE SHINING , a modern classic.

George Romero had a film company that was quite successful in turning out commercials, but they wanted to graduate to feature films. Realizing they didn't have the finances to make the “great American film” that they wanted to, they turned toward exploitation cinema and decided to create a horror film. They hired friends as extras, and the local butcher provided the meat products used in the gore scenes. Friends learned their lines and worked on weekends, a single location was utilized, and the makeup effects were produced hit-and-miss by the production crew. To top it off, it was filmed in Black & White on 16mm film when even low-budget features at the time were shooting in Color.

But Mr. Romero knew what he wanted to say about America and violence and people in a desperate situation, and if he had to make a Horror film, he was going to make the most explicit unrelenting film possible, far from the cardboard graveyards and organ music of the Universal imitators. The world sat up and took notice, and Horror cinema was never the same again. A print of NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD currently resides in the New York Museum of Modern Art. As writer and critic Kim Newman notes, they “…had made the great American film without knowing it”.

Rod Serling grew tired of having his dramas censored by timorous television executives and broadcast standards, so he created a harmless fantasy show dealing with subjects like alien invasion, deals with the devil, robots and spaceships, ghosts and goblins, none of which could be considered the least bit controversial. But Mr. Serling had gone underground, using the tropes of Horror and Dark Fantasy as allegories as genre masters had done before, and soon he was railing against prejudice, war, alienation, violence, poverty, political expedience, mob rule, totalitarianism, and other concerns of the 1950s and 60s. Many of the best episodes of THE TWILIGHT ZONE still echo today; stories of man coping with the unfairness and soul-crushing forces of the world and cosmos around him.

All of these artists took the limitations presented to them and turned them on their ear, creating a body of work infused with subtext and power beyond the usual accruements of the field. They knew with each limitation what they could not do, and focused instead on what they could, choosing a path that would allow them to reach their ends while still staying true to the original inspirations.

Unconvinced? How about some more…

Harlan Ellison was told that his OUTER LIMITS script, which featured a cross-country chase, would be too expensive to film. Mr. Ellison immediately grasped at the concept of the chase as vertical instead of horizontal ; turned his protagonist loose in the Bradbury Building in Los Angeles and had the aliens surround the space with a force bubble, trapping everyone inside, eliciting a pursuit from floor to floor. “Demon With A Glass Hand” became an award-winning teleplay and a classic example of the visual genre.

Producer/Director Herk Harvey has difficulty raising funds for his first feature film. He constructed a story that used one main character, a handful of supporting players, and made good use of an abandoned music pier nearby. He also filmed in Black & White and used no soundtrack. CARNIVAL OF SOULS is still lauded by critics as a classic avant-garde piece and a sure example of intelligent, low-budget fear.

Gene Roddenberry didn't have the budget for huge special effects for his science fiction series, so he focused on the relationships and characters on board the ship, using his stories (like Mr. Serling) to create intimate drama commenting on the social conditions of the day. STAR TREK is a pop-culture icon, with several feature films and TV series spin-offs to its credit, and is still regarded as one of the most mature examples of television produced.

Despite his astonishing successes, Alfred Hitchcock was unable to interest Paramount in his newest project; it is rejected as being too lurid and unfilmable. Financing the movie himself by using a skeleton crew of technicians from his television series, Mr. Hitchcock filmed the movie in Black & White on a miniscule budget, hiring only one star actress and using little-known actors for supporting roles, including a young man with relatively few film credits. Anthony Perkins became a star, and PSYCHO became one of the most celebrated Horror films of all time.

The producers of KOLCHAK: THE NIGHT STALKER realized that they would be unable to create effective monsters on the low-budget ABC had assigned to them; worse, broadcast standards prohibited any extreme mayhem. Darren McGavin, as Executive Producer, decided to take his cue from the early studio films by using suggestion and misdirection. The monsters are barely glimpsed and filmed in dark lighting to hide their flaws (and also make them more terrifying in the imaginations of the audience). He also used a hand-held camera to create a realistic cinema-verte effect, heightening the suspense and unease long before HILL STREET BLUES and HOMICIDE: LIFE ON THE STREETS discovered the versatility of the Ariflex. I might be mistaken, but I believe THE NIGHT STALKER was the first series to extensively use the hand-held camera, although it would certainly not be the last.

These are just some of the more famous examples that come to mind. With a little bit of effort I know I can come up with many, many more.

Yes, certain filmmakers like Stanley Kubrick create Art by carefully designing and planning every single aspect of each film – lighting, camera position, set design, casting, script supervision – making certain each frame reflects exactly what the director intends and leaving absolutely nothing to chance.

But…Mr. Kubrick found himself in a very difficult position after 2001 was released. He spent years… years! ...planning his next project: a biography of Napoleon. What? I hear you ask. Kubrick never made a movie about Napoleon. Very true. Because right before filming was to commence, the movie lost its financial backing, and was cancelled, after Mr. Kubrick spent those years in preparation.

Searching for something…anything…to fill the void, Mr. Kubrick came upon a novel: A CLOCKWORK ORANGE . Quickly he arranged to purchase the rights and have a script written. Because there was no time to build sets he decided to film everything on location, totally against his usual working method. (Even the outdoor scenes in 2001, THE SHINING and FULL METAL JACKET were filmed on soundstages so that he could control the lighting and filming conditions.) He decided to light the scenes – as carefully as usual – using only portable lamps and available lighting. He filmed much of the movie with hand-held or small portable cameras and used a skeleton crew to work quickly. In short, he broke almost every rule he himself had established in making his movies.

And what as glorious achievement A CLOCKWORK ORANGE is! Mr. Kubrick's own version of guerilla filmmaking was purchased, preproduced, filmed, edited and released within one year …an astonishing short time for Mr. Kubrick to work. All because of necessity.

And so I think of limitations, and I'm haunted by a comment made by Steven Spielberg during the 20 th anniversary of the release of the classic film JAWS . He mentioned in the interview that the mechanical shark was supposed to appear on screen much more frequently, but because the mechanisms failed to work properly, Mr. Spielberg had to improvise more shots around the creature, using the Hitchcock technique of only filming bits of the monster, leaving much of it unseen beneath the surface of the ocean. If he had had his way with his original vision, the shark would have been seen much more clearly.

I'm haunted by that, because the deliberate obscuring of the shark was what made JAWS so terrifying. It was the very technique of keeping it from view as much as possible that makes that movie so effective to this day, increasing the tension and making the sight of the monster breaking the surface of the sea truly shocking.

I think of JURRASIC PARK , with its marvelous dinosaur effects, showing the beast in loving detail, much as Mr. Spielberg would have shown the shark in JAWS . And as much as I enjoyed the film (including the hair-raising Tyrannosaurus scene), very little of it has remained with me as the years have passed. It remains an entertaining movie, but little more, resonating not at all.

But I can close my ears and still remember JAWS vividly; Quint's monologue on the Orca ( which my hostess Ms. Tina likes to quote: “Have you ever seen a shark's eyes? They're like a doll's; black and lifeless…”); Hooper exploring the wrecked hull of the boat by snorkel, pulling loose a tooth and tipping the lifeless head of the dead fisherman out into the water; the slow shark's-eye view of the ocean bottom sliding past as the creature approaches the beach and the theme music echoes ominously in our ears…

The limitations were what made the movie a classic, just as the limitations of the alien design in CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND made that film much more effective, forcing the beings to be filmed in silhouette against a brightly-lit background and not allowing the camera to follow Richard Dreyfus into the ship. When the Special Edition was released with enhanced footage, much of the impact of the original was lost.

Which brings us to the life of Mr. Poe, whose birthday we celebrate this month. Certainly he could not be said to have an ideal life. Losing his true love at a young age, beset by gambling debts and family squabbles, jeered by the literary establishment of his day, gossiped and slandered by his jealous contemporaries (who deemed him an alcoholic, drug addict or madman) and beset by ill-health (many believe that he died from being afflicted with rabies). Certainly a man whose abilities were so sublimely attuned to his Art could have benefited from a more ideal life.

Yet what grandeur he left behind, to endure long after his critics are gone and forgotten. What masterpieces of a genre long held in contempt; Poe's work silences into shame those that belittle the field as “juvenile”, “unsubstantial” and “worthless”. Despite the limitations of his life, Edgar Allen Poe reached far beyond the tribulations that bound him in his time and created work that outlived his creator. Which is all that he wished for and more than he could have imagined.

Limitations are there to be overcome; as the poet once wrote, Man's reach must far exceed his grasp.

May all of you recognize your own limitations, and leap over them spectacularly.