Category: Traumafessions

THE MUPPRT SHOW, Episode 310, spring 1978. "You're Always Welcome at Our House" and we know you will stay.

Yeah, inviting muppets into your house to kill them is not fun for children who are 4 years old.

Especially when it comes a few weeks after the terrifying Alice Cooper episode.

These are the kinds of things that make you wonder if age-ratings for television shows are a good idea after all

UNK SEZ: Thanks for another delicious traumafession Jamie! I did a little research and learned this creepy ditty was penned by the great SHEL SILVERSTEIN. You can hear the original version HERE. Now, I hope you realize that since you mentioned the ALICE COOPER episode we're going to have to watch that too (see below)!

I grew up with a father into science fiction and a mother into horror.

My father took me to see Watership Down in the theater in late 1978 or early 1979. Either way, I was 5. All the bunny rabbits were instant friends. Yes, they got into fights and some scary stuff right off the bat with Fiver's psychic vision of impending bunny-doom if they didn't flee the warren. Their voyage to their new home was a struggle, but they made it and had happy bunny families and lived happily ever after…

No. Instead of ending the movie there, we got to see the Black Rabbit of Death come to take away all my bunny rabbit friends. The Black Rabbit of Death haunted my dreams for years. I don't even want to listen to that song from the movie. Why did we need to see the bunnies off to another plane of existence? Perhaps because of Lord of the Rings, where Tolkien grinds us down to make us read about the passing of all the Ring Bearers and of the Elves.

Lord of the Rings, another 1978 movie I should not have been taken to see. Looking it up on Wikipedia I see that there was substantially more of the film than I remember. Because for me, the movie ended when Boromir was pierced by orc arrows and dripping with blood, in his drawn out death scene, apologizing for trying to steal the Ring.

Now for mom and grandma. Friday the 13th, the first movie from 1980. I was now a stalwart 6 year old. Who doesn't know what happened in the movie because he was hiding under the theater seat for almost the entire thing. This is a serious WTF were you thinking situation: your mother and your grandmother are laughing at you, a 6 year old, for being terrified of a slasher horror movie. No comfort; no he's too young, we should go. They thought it was funny for me to be hiding in the sticky goo under the seat.

And yes, I was hiding for most of the movie. But then I was told the scary parts were over and it was ok to emerge from my sticky warren of fear. They weren't. Nasty decomposing monster Jason jumps out of the lake, a surprise for everyone. And traumatic for me.

Oh and Jaws. Two and a half years old and taken to see Jaws. Bad parents. Bad.

Unk and Aunt John, it's you dear old ghoulish friend, Fiji Mermaid. I've got a Traumafession for you.

After reading a few recent traumafessions I realized as much as I love horror and scary stuff all my life, it's really out of true enjoyment, fun I guess. Rarely… rarely has anything scared me at any age. When it's happened it's quite memorable. The one big and first clear memory of something scaring me was a scene in "Alien" (1979). I was maybe around 9 years old. My dad rented the movie for me on VHS. I definitely was looking forward to seeing it. I knew some things about the movie, but not a whole lot. Basically it was going to be a monster movie that takes place in space. Now a big thing to me was that I knew exactly what the Alien looked like because when I was around 3 years old my parents bought me the know legendary Kenner giant action figure. I loved that toy and played with it until it fell apart. So I was really looking forward to seeing the monster on the silver screen.

All the stuff up to and including when Harry Dean Stanton's character is killed was enjoyable and not scary in the least, but then the next kill is what did it. Dallas going into the ventilation system to hunt down the Alien, when clearly they had no clue what they are up against. Parker did describe it as "big, like a man" sized thing, but still it didn't seem frightening. But when he's in the tubes and everyone is watching the computer screen and the tracking system and he seems to be disoriented really made the tension tight. Being that he was a main character I thought, no way he's going to die, he'll make it out. Right when I thought he'd escape he turns around and the AlIEN reaches out to grab him with a weird scream and feedback over his microphone. The editing, music, performances, visuals… it terrified me. I was literally frozen with fear. I couldn't move, couldn't close my eyes nothing. It took a minute for it to wear off. That scene was a success.

"We found this laying there. No blood, no Dallas, nothing. How come I don't hear anybody say anything?" – Parker

I'll tell you why Parker, nobody is saying anything, because we are frozen with FEAR!!

The other day (read months ago) my old pal Mickster and I were talking about what else, scary crap that scared us. I mentioned to her that one thing people seem to underestimate is the importance of when you view something. I'm not talking about what age; I'm talking about what mind frame. In other words if a tornado recently killed your favorite cow, it's the wrong time to watch TWISTER. I didn't use that dumb example whilst talking with the Mickster. Instead I told her of an ancient dark memory that took place in the chilling nightmare winter of 1999. I was going through a depressing break-up, no doubt imagining a long grey road ahead and I decided that the perfect thing to watch was BUFFY THE VAPIRE SLAYER as it was sure to cheer me up because many of my imaginary pals live on that show. The episode airing that evening was "Hush" which pitted Buffy and cohorts against a small tribe of grimacing floating demons that hung around with shifty creatures in straightjackets. At some point during the episode, I was surprised to find myself morbidly horrified in a way I could not have predicted. Mind you, it wasn't fear I felt but a kind of pessimist nausea mixed with an inescapable sense of doom. I was going to die alone and the universe couldn't hold in its giggle.

Upon hearing my confession Mickster revealed that she, my unmet friend, on the same evening albeit in a different time zone was experiencing a similar encounter with the episode. With her permission, here is her story…

On December 13, 1999, I underwent surgery for the second time in a three-week period. It was an unpleasant experience that was compounded by the fact that I was 2,000 miles from my family, and my husband, at the time, was a worthless alcoholic that dumped me at the hospital to go through it all alone. The next day, I was in a great deal of pain from the surgery and gas pain that accompanies surgery as well. I was hooked up to a morphine pump to manage the pain. As I struggled to become comfortable on the evening of December 14, I looked for something to watch on TV. I was delighted to find an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer just starting. The evening was about to become memorable, as this was the episode titled "Hush." As I watched, the "Gentlemen" stealing hearts from victims who were unable to scream naturally disturbed me, but I was also aware that it was kind of a metaphor for my life at the time. I felt as though I had no voice, as my heart was slowly being ripped from my chest day-by-day and year-by-year. In fact, the pain from the surgery did not compare to my emotional pain. Who would think that an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer would force me to recognize the real pain in my life? It took me a bit longer to gain my voice to destroy the "Gentleman" that was ripping at my heart than it did Buffy, but I eventually did. Thanks, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (and the morphine) for opening my eyes.

O.K., Mickster's story kind of makes my story sound like a Haagen-Dazs stained Cathy comic. What can I say? I'm easily discombobulated. Egad, what kind of cad leaves his wife in the hospital? And what kind of person still uses the word "cad"? Anyway, the point remains, when one is in a fragile state of mind they are that much more vulnerable to the creeps. Why just recently Kindertrauma Castle was under siege by miniscule calamities of one sort or another and I thought I might escape by falling asleep to a scratchy HORROR HOTEL VHS tape. I didn't get half way through the gloomy chant-filled opening credits before I decided to nix that plan and switch to XANADU. I may have even quoted LaWANDA PAGE in MAUSOLEUM (1983) by exclaiming "No more grieving, I'm leaving!" as I pulled out the tape. Incidentally, I want that quote carved on my tombstone.

On the other hand let's not overlook the fact that the "Gentleman" are indeed legitimately off-putting even in the lightest of circumstances. I mean, they're like POLTERGEIST 2's Reverend Kane crossed with the chauffer from BURNT OFFERINGS, shmooshed with PHANTASM's "Tall Man" piled up with any number of ghouls from THE SENTINEL, times four and with a dollop of Mr. Burns and "The Slender Man" on the side. Worse still, and this may be where I outdo Mickster on the trauma front, when I look in the mirror I know the years before I resemble one are few! Oh no, now I'm getting depressed again, is it getting darker in here? Where is my XANADU tape? What cruel inhuman monster would hide it?

It lasts just a second, but in this scene from the Pink Floyd movie you see Pink at 6:38 encrusted with his Comfortably Numb goo, his eyes looking very scary.