With Fangs Atingle

Ah, October. It’s my favorite month of the year, fiery with autumn leaves and early sunsets, bountiful with the fall harvest, and blissfully cooler, at least at night while the D.C. area embarks on its second summer.

This year October is a wee bit extra special to me, as I’m feeling a pull back to the spooky and creeptastic. During the pandemic lockdowns I lost much of my taste for things frightening or dark. Even though Inigo kept me company—and oh, how I miss him so!—it seemed a little risky in terms of mental health to stare into the abyss while cooped up. Besides, the abyss was already staring back at me, what with the worst of humanity unleashing its lizard brain and throwing tantrums left and right about things like being asked to wear a mask, get vaccinated, and accept the outcome of democratic election.

Then Russia invaded Ukraine, thus pissing off pretty much the entire world, including Russia’s own people. Being an early Gen-Xer, I watched the Berlin Wall come down when I was 22 and then spent the following two decades of post-Cold War thawing working on deprograming myself of all the crap and propaganda I learned as a kid, so I was hoping we’d never come back to brinkmanship again. So much for that.

Then it became undeniable (to rational people at least) that all of humanity’s environmental abuse has come to its full and ugly fruition. Way to go, homo sapiens: The planet is simultaneously burning, flooding, choking, and collapsing.

Well, to me all of that is far more terrifying than any fiction the human mind can dream up. Indeed, vampires, ghosts, werewolves, fallen angels, and other creatures of the night now often strike me as preferable company to human primates, at least in a general sense.

And so here I am, giving Horrordailies a go. This month I’ll be writing about everything from scary movies to myths and legends to cemeteries to misunderstood birds and animals that people often associate with bad luck but really shouldn’t. I’ll probably throw in some photos and vampire poetry, and whatever else grabs me in a moment of nocturnal musing. To borrow the words of a friend and blogger who died a long time ago, thanks for being here.

Movie goal.

After looking for my favorite Hulk Smash video earlier today—I watch it for catharsis when I’m really, REALLY mad—I got to wondering how many Marvel movies there have been. Turns out there are 40 so far. FORTY. So I might watch one a week for the next however many weeks, for the heck of it. I’ve seen about ten of them, all about Iron Man, Thor, Captain America, Spiderman, or The Avengers, but I’ve never seen Ant Man, Guardians of the Galaxy, etc. It could be a goal for 2023. I’m going to watch them in story order, not release date order (i.e, Captain America: The First Avenger first, not Iron Man), as I want to move along the timeline of their universe, not Hollywood.

Iron Man is my favorite. I love Tony Stark’s snark. Captain America reminds me too much of my ex-husband, but blond. Same hairstyle, jawline, and profile. Iron Man’s attitude reminds me a little of an ex-boyfriend, too. Hmm, two strikes. Maybe the next one will be Thor.

I don’t know why I fell out of watching them. My tastes run toward horror and art-house/indie films, but I always got a kick out of superhero movies. It springs from watching Flash Gordon as a kid—the black-and-white ones from the mid-1950s with Steve Holland that ran on PBS on Friday nights in the 1970s. I used to watch them with my father, who was a Flash Gordon fan going back to the 1930s and Buster Crabbe. Maybe I’ll see if I can find all of those to watch, too.

Hey, the D.C. area is supposed to get a fair amount of snow this winter. Gotta have something to go with the cocoa.