HOLY TERRORS #1 THE BEGINNING
Confession: I thought long and hard about how I was going to introduce my blog. Needless to say…it gave me a raging case of the writer’s block (and a headache.) I ain’t ever been a blogger before, and with the vast amounts of mouthy, opinionated writers fluttering about the blogosphere, I was hitting the proverbial wall trying to think of clever ways to make you fall deeply in lesbians with me instantly. (Yeah, a Scott Pilgrim reference. Yeah, not horror. Screw you, I love that movie.) I tried out voices, explored witticisms and generally tortured myself to levels of deep, dark, emo insecurity and still nada. And then crashing into me like a cracked-out King Kong playing tackle football was an idea, and of course it was one of the easiest, simplest and most obvious ideas.
I may as well introduce myself. Tell you who I am, why I am and what the great God’s f*ck am I doing here with you.
So pull up a chair kiddos, and don’t you worry, I don’t bite…at least not on these kind of occasions. Name’s Johnny D, and I assume I’m like the lot of you reading this – a lifelong horror fan. Looking back into my brain, addled by gore and a few other substances, I can’t remember a day when I wasn’t somehow in love with the genre of the dark, spooky, scary and macabre. I remember sitting in the flickering glow of the boob tube, gulping down repeated viewings of Halloween, Poltergeist and Jaws. As a child I read R.L. Stine’sGoosebumps series and the Very Scary Stories of Richard Scary, before graduating to the more mature horrors of Stephen King at a still too tender age (though my dear mama denies it. Luckily fer her, plowing through the 1,000 plus pages of It was still too daunting a task for me then. Hell, kind of is now.)
I stayed up all night with Joe Bob Briggs and his “Monstervision” marathons on TNT (ditto, with “Up All Night” on USA with Rhonda Shear…but that was more in the hopes a stray breast would slip by the censors at 2 a.m.) and worshipped at the alter of “The X-Files”, my “first” favorite TV show. Hell, I even watched that show’s cheaper, cheesier, Canadian cousin “Psi Factor”. As I grew older (and got ahold of my own Blockbuster card before I was actually of age to get ahold of my own Blockbuster card), I dived into the exploration of exploitation, spelunking for some the scariest, craziest, disturbingist, sickest, sleaziest, campiest and bizarrist horror movies ever made.
And that’s why I’m here, boils and ghouls. I’ve come to introduce you to those scariest, craziest, disturbingist, sickest, sleaziest, campiest and bizarrist horror films ever made. These are the films I love, that mean something to me, that have alternately branded, bedazzled and besieged my brain with their raucous depravity. These are the obscure gems, the unruly taboo-busters, the kick-in-the-teeth hardcore horrors and the misbegotten, so-bad-they’re-great trash epics. I’m baking blog-shaped cakes to celebrate these B-masterpieces, and while films like Prison, Thriller: A Cruel Picture and The Mangler may not be to all (or even any) tastes, I hope my passion for them shines through and helps you to reconsider them, seek them out or even think about the schlock that you love.
Not only that, my blog’s going to provide for a two-pronged assault of movie mayhem. In addition to my sexy, sexy cinematic love letters, I’ll be ranting, raving and commentating about the horror scene I adore with all withered little black heart, as well as providing the occasionally news and reviews bits for your consumption.
Until then my fellow Mad Loves, I bid adieu and wish you the sweetest of nightmares.