Don't Judge, The Scientists Were Really Nice

Dear Blogavadgita,

In case you were wondering who would go see Piranha 3D, the answer is Steinho. That’s right. I drove halfway across LA, (okay not halfway, just from WeHo to Culver City, and only because the stupid Grove had lost its power) to see Christopher Lloyd play Doc Brown the Paleolithic fish expert. And the fat kid from “Stand By Me” pretend to be a porn director. It was one of those films where I left completely grossed out, and yet not surprised, nor disappointed. The film gave me exactly what it promised. Piranhas… in 3D. Plus a whole lot of topless chicks. Okay, if we’re going to be nitpicky, the film should have been titled, Piranhas and Boobs 3D.

Somewhere during the climactic final bloodbath, as I was peeking through my fingers at the screen, I wondered to myself, why did I want to see this film so badly? I could be home, drinking hot chocolate and staring at a picture of Jay Baruchel. Why the visual torment? Let me put in perspective. Remember that review I wrote of “The Fly?” Well, Piranha made “The Fly” seem like an episode of the Lawrence Welk show on healthy dose of benadryl. For those of you with parents born after the Vietnam War, this was a show in the 1950s that old people like. And if you don’t know when the Vietnam War was, go to the nearest library, find the encyclopedia starting with the letter V, and smack yourself in the face with it.

Now that I’ve proven how smart I am, let’s move on. My point is that I willingly paid fifteen dollars to see Jerry O’Connell scream out “The fish took my penis.” No, now I just proved how smart I am. Yikes.

I’m sure at this very moment, at the Ivy League university of your choice, some nerdy psychology PhD candidate is researching this very subject of why we seek out things that terrify us. The experiment probably involves subjecting lazy undergrads to heinous photos, and then performing odd, seemingly-unrelated tests on them, all for ten dollars an hour. As a former lazy undergrad/psychology lab rat, I have to say, there are worse ways to earn quick cash. Like getting a real job.

Whatever the reason that drove me to witness such a gore fest as Piranha 3D, it’s the same motivation that drives me to read (almost) every book Stephen King has written, as well as the works of numerous other horror authors over the years. Every so often, I find a horror novel that while reading late at night, alone in my room, I get so creeped out, I have to stop immediately and put the book down. There’s been one or two times where, despite being exhausted and longing for bed, I’ve forced myself to read something else, even just a few pages to get the freaky, gross, horrifying image out of my head before I give up my impressionable brain to dream land.

So, if you’re feeling well rested and just a little masochistic, here are three books to lose sleep over. But, in the words of Lt. Geordi LaForge, you don’t have to take my word for it.

“It” by Stephen King.

I’ll start with a classic. What isn’t scary about a being of pure evil, personified in the form of a demented clown. It’s been a long time since I read this, but I’m pretty sure within the first ten to fifteen pages, a kid gets his arm ripped off by said clown in the sewer. Forget the movie if you’ve seen it. This book will take you into recesses of your imagination you thought television killed years ago.

“The Ruins” by Scott Smith

Such a simple concept. A group of college students go hiking on Aztec ruins, only to be caught between a group of murderous natives and a jungle full of flesh eating cognizant plants. Think this is just a bad “Little Shop of Horrors” rip off? Let’s just say, after reading about how a vine burrowed its way underneath a man’s skin through an open wound, I felt a little less motivated to water my aloe plant the next day.

Anything by H.P. Lovecraft

Now, if you’re not familiar with Lovecraft, his work is kind of hard to explain. I’ll put it the only way I know how. If there was a meter that measured the ability to create or imagine on a scale of 1-10, and the average ho hum pedestrian was around a 2 or 3, men like Stephen King would probably be at an 8 or 9. Lovecraft would be at a 67. I’m pretty sure he was either visited by demons or aliens or demonic aliens in his youth. Regardless, he was a genius and from my research, it seems a little bit of a madman as well. I suppose you’d have to be to write some of the things he did.

Finally, if you like BAD horror, here are a few to laugh over.

Steve Alten “The Loch”

A sexy but traumatized marine biologist is in an accident involving some kind of aquatic monster, has to go back home to Loch Ness to visit his imprisoned father, only to find he was framed. By Nessie.

Clive Barker “Coldheart Canyon”

After an action star’s plastic surgery goes awry, he holes up in an old haunted mansion in the Hollywood hills, where dead stars have nightly orgies. With animals. And have humanimal babies. Like a Greta Garbo ghost ostrich baby hybrid. Now that’s Hollywood for you.

Sweet dreams, my little bloggieflowers.