Enjoy!
Me reading my 2013 Halloween poem, “In The Gloomy, Grim Midwest”
Enjoy!
Enjoy!
As a kid, I loved decorating for Halloween. Here are a few old photos of my handiwork.
I have a tradition of watching a horror movie around Halloween. This year, I selected The Thing because Joel Edgerton is in it, and I’ve thought he is one of the best actors around ever since I saw him in Jane Got A Gun earlier this year.
The Thing is a prequel to a 1982 film of the same name. I haven’t seen that one, but from what I have read, the plots of the two films are the same: a team of researchers in the Antarctic are terrorized by an alien life-form that can disguise itself as a human being.
It is a strong setting. The isolated Antarctic has potential for an eerie atmosphere, and the shape-shifting monster attacking the trapped team could have made for a tense, Alien-like horror picture.
I say “could have” because it squandered its potential. The biggest flaw was the wildly inconsistent behavior of the monster. It would attack people, replicate them exactly, and seemingly copy all their memories and knowledge. Sounds pretty smart, until you realize that in its normal form, The Thing was powerful enough to just wipe out everyone there with brute force.
Also, it was a major plot point that The Thing could only copy organic material; not artificial stuff like fillings in teeth. Again, this was a cool idea, but it was completely contradicted by the fact that The Thing apparently could copy the clothes its victims were wearing, because whenever it appeared in disguise as another human, it was always dressed identically to the real person prior to their demise.
None of the characters were especially memorable–Edgerton’s was probably one of the better ones, but that may have just been because he was the only actor with whom I was familiar. The heroine of the movie, played by Mary Elizabeth Winstead, is not bad, but the script is muddled as to whether she is supposed to be just a regular scientist fighting to survive or an Ellen Ripley type of character.
In the end, The Thing suffered from the most common problem in all horror fiction: it showed the monster too much, instead of relying on characters and atmosphere to create a mood of fright and tension.
All of us dressed in our Witch-Sabbath best
To celebrate Halloween’s coming.
There was the Countess Villette and her one-eyed pet
Hosting that mad night of mumming.
There was the fiery hell-cat, in her black pointed hat,
And a lumbering mountainous man.
There was the old gypsy crone, and a creature unknown
Who looked like a doll from Japan.
O! Not even the Devil could imagine that revel;
That cosmic costume soirée of the weird.
Its ghoulish appeal was so very surreal
And nothing was what it appeared.
We laughed and we danced, and all were entranced
As if by some powerful hex.
The fiendish fell spell could be felt down to Hell;
A cocktail of madness and laughter and sex.
Then the clock struck thirteen, and with that, Halloween
Had ended as fast as it came.
And everyone vanished–the occult magic was banished,
And once more, all was quiet and tame.
The trees are blue beneath the autumn moon;
The witches and the devils all cavort–
The creatures of the dark awake, and soon,
The King of Night shall hold his Court.
Whether in the gloom of lonely countryside,
Or on the garish neon city streets;
The Spell is felt by people far and wide,
And finds expression in saying “tricks or treats”.
‘Tis not merely some carnival of lights,
Nor yet a complicated costume ball;
‘Tis the exaltation of those magic nights
When all the world is held in Other Forces’ thrall.
The changing of the seasons brings along
A touch of the mysterious and weird.
As we acknowledge, in story and in song,
The spirit world that men have glimpsed and feared.
Be thou not afraid, my pious friend;
To hearken back to old beliefs of yore.
It would be utter folly to pretend
Such things were not here long before.
In the gloomy, grim Midwest
One dark October day,
I rode along a hilltop crest,
Past a quarry cold and grey.
It was late that afternoon
And I turned to head for home;
When across the barren dune
I saw a figure roam.
I called to him, but no reply
From that figure reached my ear.
And I could not believe my eye
But then he seemed to disappear!
I started, then, upon the path
Down into the dark ravine,
Shuddering to think what hath
Lain long therein, unseen.
When once I reached the floor
The afternoon to night was turning,
But in the dark, I heard a roar
As of a massive fire burning.
And from the distance came a cry
That left me feeling sickened.
And feeling Duty bade me try
To help, my pace I quickened.
The night wind tore my cloak
As I passed trees all dead and rotten.
The smoky, stony place bespoke
A time long since forgotten.
The wolfpacks bayed and howled
From distant, lonely places,
The tree trunks leered and scowled
With twisted moonlit faces.
When that last fatal bend I rounded
I saw the mighty fire, and the rings
By which it was surrounded
Of leaping, grinning, cackling THINGS.
And at the center of the blaze
I saw that at which they chanted,
A sight I’ll not forget for all my days
And on my deathbed shall be haunted.
I turned and ran, in mindless fear,
My faith and reason torn in half.
As I plunged on, I nigh could hear
Those awful creatures laugh.
Now I try to live what life I can
On my lonely country farm;
A broken, shattered, frightened man
Who lies awake for fear of harm.
I will only go out in the day;
And sometimes, in my room at night,
I think that I can hear them, far away,
As they chant their Diabolic rite.
At this time of year, I like to read scary books, watch scary movies, and play scary games. With that in mind, what follows is a list of some of my favorites of each type. I think I’ve blogged about all of these individually before, but I decided to compile them into a list for a convenient reference.

A train whistle blows
And echoes over the forgotten graveyard.
In the dark of night, the West wind
Sweeps across the fields.
What gloomy tidings ride
Upon that ancient gale?
What long dead spirit voice
Cries out from the forgotten forests?
A shape, silhouetted against a sky
Faintly orange with distant city lights,
Moves slowly across the rise.
The colorless leaves fall
From the arms of their decaying towers.
And then the wind subsides,
But a dread chill persists
Upon this haunted land.