The Top 10 Pre-1960s Horror Movies

The horror genre in film has been around practically as long as film itself has existed. Since the silent film era, the horror film has been a mainstay, with the period of the mid-1920s to right before 1960 marking the era of somewhat "classy" horror. I call it classy because a number of horror films from this era made huge bank (for their time), were surefire box office draws, and usually featured headliners such as Boris Karloff, Bela Lugosi, Lon Chaney, Vincent Price, Christopher Lee, and Peter Cushing among others. This was when the horror genre seemingly wasn't looked at with as much disdain as it would be in the near future, which kind of marks this era for horror fans as golden age.

So I've managed to compile a list of what I consider the ten best horror films from this pre-1960 era. I know that many purists certainly won't agree with this, and this was terribly difficult to put together considering what all I left off of here. Classic films that didn't make the cut included "The Wolfman", "House on Haunted Hill", "The Mummy", "Frankenstein", "White Zombie", "Invasion of the Body Snatchers", and "Freaks". I also originally intended on including "King Kong" and "Gojira" (aka "Godzilla") on this list, but upon further examination, I decided against it because both of those films are more towards the adventure genre than horror.

Anyway, let's get on with the list. Try not to lynch me after please.



10. THE OLD DARK HOUSE (1932)
Director: James Whale
Starring: Boris Karloff, Charles Laughton, Gloria Stuart

Helmed by the man that brought "Frankenstein" to the big screen, "The Old Dark House" is one of the most terribly underrated films of the era. The story revolves around a group of Welsh travellers seeking shelter during a violent rainstorm, and are taken in by the Femm family in their expansive mansion. It doesn't take too long to figure that there is something seriously wrong with the Femm's, as well as with their mute manservant Morgan (Karloff, who proves here he can be scary and tragic without the Frankenstein monster make up) in particular. Spooky, claustrophobic, and loaded with wonderful atmosphere, "The Old Dark House" is a hidden gem of the era that deserves your attention.



9. THE BLOB (1958)
Director: Irvin S. Yeaworth Jr.
Starring: Steve McQueen, Aneta Corsaut, Earl Rowe

What's the first thing you hear during this film's opening credits? That theme song. That wonderfully hysterical, fucking, theme song. I swear it's a thing of beauty. Anyway, "The Blob" is memorable for a lot of reasons, and not just because Steve fucking McQueen was 27 years old and playing a teenager, but because it's a super enjoyable creature-feature that featured some special effects that were ahead of its time. "The Blob" also has a special place in my heart because it was filmed in Phoenixville, PA. I was born there, and though I didn't live in that exact same area before I departed for Philadelphia years later, for years all I would hear from various neighbors, etc. was that "they made that Blob movie here in the 50s. Steve McQueen was here before he got famous". Call it for the sake of...well, call it whatever you want. I enjoy "The Blob" regardless. Not to mention I enjoy going to the Colonial in Phoenixville every summer for BlobFest. How many movies from this era can say that they inspired an annual celebration/festival in its name?



8. THE THING FROM ANOTHER WORLD (1951)
Director: Howard Hawks (uncredited), Christian Nyby
Starring: James Arness, Kenneth Tobey, Margaret Sheridan

I could talk about this film and everything associated with it for hours. Based on the short story "Who Goes There?", "The Thing From Another World" revolves around a United States Air Force crew along with some scientists in the Arctic that recover a flying saucer and its frozen pilot that have crash landed into the ice. Once dug up and thawed out, the alien being begins wreacking havoc, and the body count rises. Suspenseful and thoroughly entertaining throughout, "The Thing From Another World" isn't perfect by any stretch of the imagination (with a few noticable continuity errors peppered throughout the production), but for its time it has plenty of heart and imagination. This was one of the earliest horror films I ever saw in my youth, so it has a special place in my heart. That, along with its 1982 remake from John Carpenter, which is a classic in its own right, and one of those rare cases where the remake is better than the original.



7. THE ISLAND OF LOST SOULS (1932)
Director: Erle C. Kenton
Starring: Charles Laughton, Richard Arlen, Bela Lugosi

One of the most criminally underrated films of its era, "The Island of Lost Souls" has, in the decades since its release, been reclassified as a classic of the genre. The first film adaptation of H.G. Wells' "The Island of Dr. Moreau", this take on his work wasn't looked upon too well by Wells, critics, or audiences, mostly due to the fact that much of Wells' philosophical musings were overshadowed by the surprisingly visceral horror elements. That aside, "The Island of Lost Souls" is a true piece of art. The makeup effects are good for their time, and the cast is brilliant, in particular genre veteran Charles Laughton as the manical Doctor. The film was released on Blu-ray and DVD from Criterion a year or two ago, which in itself pretty much helps solidify its status as a classic of the genre.



6. HORROR OF DRACULA (1958)
Director: Terrence Fisher
Starring: Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing, Michael Gough

Known just as "Dracula" everywhere else except for the United States, "Horror of Dracula" is the first of the Dracula series from Hammer Films. The legendary British horror studio that churned out numerous beloved genre films for decades, this film took Bram Stoker's novel and ran with it. It's barely faithful to the novel in all honesty, but its gothic atmosphere, beautiful set design, and the perfect casting of genre heavyweights Christopher Lee as Dracula and Peter Cushing as Van Helsing is the icing on the cake. Lee would play Dracula many more times throughout his career, becoming almost as iconic in the role as...well, someone we'll get to later. Anyway, "Horror of Dracula" is my personal favorite Dracula movie, and no I'm not just saying that because this was the first Dracula film to show blood and tits in full color glory.



5. THE CABINET OF DR. CALIGARI (1920)
Director: Robert Wiene
Starring: Conrad Veidt, Werner Krauss, Lil Dagover

One of two films that symbolize German expressionism at its finest (we'll get to the other one soon enough), "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari" is a thing of beauty. Dr. Caligari is a mad hypnotist that uses a man to commit brutal murders. There's much more to the story than that, but revealing more would be doing a disservice. Bold, brilliant, and with one of the very first uses of the "twist ending" in cinema history, "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari" isn't just one of the finest silent horror films ever, it's one of the greatest silent films ever, period. It's also public domain, meaning you have no reason not to see it.



4. HOUSE OF WAX (1953)
Director: Andre de Toth
Starring: Vincent Price, Frank Lovejoy, Charles Bronson

The first color 3D film to be seen nationwide, the classic "House of Wax" sees horror icon Vincent Price at his best. A remake of a 1933 film, "House of Wax" revolves around a talented wax sculptor with some super shady secrets. Chances are you already know without possibly ever actually having seen the film...that's how much of an impact this has had on the horror genre and film in general overall. Price is wonderful; managing to switch from charming and suave to totally fucking creepy with the flick of a switch.



3. NOSFERATU (1922)
Director: F.W. Murnau
Starring: Max Schreck, Gustav von Wangenheim, Greta Schroder

Remember what I said earlier about German expressionism when talking about "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari"? All of that applies to "Nosferatu". When the rights to make an adaptation of "Dracula" couldn't be secured, director F.W. Murnau decided to make an "unauthorized" adaptation of Bram Stoker's novel. Stoker's family sued, and every copy of the film was ordered to be destroyed, yet somehow one print of the film survived. I'm totally serious about that. Read up on the history of the film, you'll shit yourself in astonishment. Anyway, "Nosferatu" follows a lot of the same plot points that "Dracula" laid out, but it's the gorgeous cinematography and the foreboding atmosphere that really make it the classic that it is. To this day, almost a full century later, "Nosferatu" is still haunting.



2. BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1935)
Director: James Whale
Starring: Boris Karloff, Colin Clive, Elsa Lanchester

This was difficult. It was almost a toss up between "Bride of Frankenstein" and its 1931 predecessor "Frankenstein", but for me, the sequel wins out. Picking up where the first film left off, The Monster demands his creator to make him a bride. Eventually Doctor Frankenstein complies, and things don't end up going well for anyone really. While it has its share of camp compared to the first film, "Bride of Frankenstein" has much more subtext in terms of being a religious allegory (and not in a positive light), something that was a no-no in this era of Hollywood. Ballsy and ahead of its time, "Bride of Frankenstein" is one of the best films of the classic Universal Monsters lineup...but there's one film from that family that manages to outshine it just a bit...



1. DRACULA (1931)
Director: Tod Browing
Starring: Bela Lugosi, Helen Chandler, David Manners

What can I really say about "Dracula" that hasn't been said about a million fucking times already? Not much honestly. Out of all the classic Universal Monsters films from this era, and the horror films of this era in general, none have had the long-standing impact that "Dracula" has. What makes me say that? Just think about Count fucking Dracula right now. Think about him in your head. What does he look like? Does he look like Christopher Lee? Or Frank Langella? Or Gary Oldman? No, no, and fuck no. When you think of Dracula, you think of Bela Lugosi. It's the classic look that became forever associated with Bram Stoker's character. Those eyes. That voice. The hypnotic performance that Lugosi gives. There hasn't been an iconic performance of Dracula, and perhaps any other movie monster, in all of film history. Boris "Frankenstein" Karloff comes close, but it's Lugosi that makes "Dracula" as memorable as it is. Sure, Tod Browning's direction and the overall atmosphere help make it as epic as it is, but again, it all comes back to Lugosi. All of that combined helps make "Dracula" the best film of this era.


So that's my top 10 horror films pre-1960. Agree? Disagree? Have little to no idea what the fuck I'm talking about? That's okay, some of you may be wondering if I know what the fuck I'm talking about. Regardless, you should check out these films if you've never caught them before. You'll be glad that you did.

FREE SHORT STORY FOR YOUR CONSUMPTION!

Holy hell, it's been a while hasn't it? I've neglected this blog for quite some time. Not just the blog, but writing in general. Real life has gotten in the way a lot over the past many months, and I really would like to rectify that.

Recently, a friend of mine asked me to write a little something for a project he's working on. So I did just that. Churned it out fairly quickly, and I'm here to present it to you, FOR FREE.

It's short, it's sweet, and it may make you squirm.

ENJOY!



CRIMSON HARVEST

Written and created by Nick Durham



I remember once back in ma' youth that this seemed ta be easier than I thought it'd be. Maybe that was 'cause I was young and Pa did all the big work while I watched. "Watch 'n learn boy" is what he'd say. And I did. I did watch and I damn sure did learn from seein' him work. If he saw me now he wouldn't be too happy with me at the moment.
I'd been lookin' for this boy for a while now. It ain't like he coulda gone far. My own damn fault I guess if I was bein' honest. Trouble is he's small, which means he's fast too. And I been doin this shit for so long now that youth just ain't on my side no more. He's gotta still be here, ain't nothin else around here for at least 20 miles. He gotta still be in the barn. I can almost smell him I think.
Just a couple hours ago him and his momma had their "car trouble", just like they always do this time of year, and found me close by, just like they always do too. It been a long time since there been a young'n that got caught too, but I wasn't gonna complain. When I saw the boy I forgot just how sweet the young'ns could be. His momma was pretty sweet too. Sweet and stupid. Too damned stupid to have seen the poppers I put on the road that made her spin out. Broad fuckin daylight and the bitch didn't see shit. I knew this was gonna be a okay day.
When my daddy showed me how to do all this he always told me there was two kinds of folk in this world: one's that were too smart for they own good, and the ones that were too goddammed stupid to live and live right. He always said that by the grace of God we'd be lucky to get the stupid ones. The smart ones we'd never get if we were lucky. I remember I asked him why we did what we did, why he did what he did, and he gave me the answer that I ain't never forgot in all this time: "because it was right 'cause his daddy 'fore him taught him to do it, told by the good Lord."
We needed the blood. That's all there is to it. We need the blood to continue. Years and years back when the earth dried up and the ground weren't fertile no more, my grandpappy said somethin' happened. He said that the ground was alive but it was dyin from how much use we were gettin' out of it. With all the crops and work we done for years and years it messed everything up. The ground needed blood to live. It needed blood to make things grow again. My grandpappy knew this when he seen his cousin get in an accident with the mower. He watched his blood soak into the dirt...and the dirt spoke to him. It was the Lord he said. The Lord told him what he had to do to live. What he had to do to help the dirt live. We needed the dirt to live, and the dirt needed us to live. There's a word for that I know it, I just don't know the word.
So my daddy done kept doing the same thing grandpappy did. And Pa taught me the same. I'm supposed to pass it down to I guess, but I ain't gettin any younger and I got no woman. That boy's momma sure was sweet, but I don't think she woulda been interested in me. Seemed like a city broad.
But the boy. The boy. Maybe I could teach the boy. He's young. I can mold the boy. Yes I can. I can keep this going. It's the Lord's work. We keep things goin with this we can save the dirt and ground and earth. We can do right. But first I gotta find the boy.
I got the blade in my hand just because I guess. The momma's blood still on it. I can still smell the momma. Her scent still strong, and the smell of her blood. I strung her up and bled her into the dirt. I swear I can feel it under my feet, feel the ground breathe and live. This is what real ranchin and harvestin is now. It's the best for everyone. Just gotta accept it.
I hear one of the barn doors swing open. He got out. It don't matter. Like I said before, he ain't gonna get far. But that kid got guts. I'll give him that. I get to the door and swing it open but I don't see the boy outside. I figured I'd see him runnin but nope, nothin. I shoulda known better right then and there. Like Pa said, "the smart ones we'd never get if we were lucky"...and the boy was smart.
I feel the sharp stab in my calf and go down hard. I don't know where the little fuck hid but he tricked me, and now he got one a my blades straight through the back of my fuckin leg. In them few seconds I think about beggin for my life, but I feel that ground move again underneath me. My blood's drippin in it now. Last of my family line gonna be sucked up into the earth. I know there's a word for that too but damned if I know what it is.
I give that boy one last look. He look like he doesn't know if he should do it or start cryin. Not that I blame him. When I was his age I cried at my first time too. I just gave him a nod and I let my blade fall outta my hand. Last thing I see is his knife come down straight on to me. Last thing I feel is my blood, my life, go leakin into the ground.
I ain't mad that this how things went. It's ranchin and harvestin in a new world. It's what needs to be done. That's all there is to it. The look in that boy's eyes looked so...familiar. And in the end it just looked so damn right I guess. I think maybe he gets the point. If that be the case, I didn't have to teach him shit. The Lord and the earth done did it for me. That's life.

Michael Bay Thinks You're Stupid

Blah blah blah, Michael Bay.

Blah blah blah, destroys my childhood.

Blah blah blah, how does he keep getting to produce and direct shitty movies?

Michael Bay gets shit on quite a bit, and he has for quite some time now. Has it been 20 years yet? I'm not sure. I don't recall off the top of my head when "Bad Boys" came out, because honestly I'm too lazy and I just don't give much of a shit to even bother going to IMDB to look it up, but it feels like it's been a while that we've all been slinging shit at Bay while he continues to laugh all the way to the bank. That in itself is the point of all this: just how does someone as critically panned as Bay manage to keep making abysmal films that make money hand over fist?

The simple answer is that Bay himself symbolizes the modern American movie-goer. What does said modern American movie-goer look for that gets his blood pumping?

Explosions, lots and lots of explosions.

Glossy action sequences that feature lots of close-ups of the characters in play, most of which can get pretty uncomfortable.

Frantic film editing. This makes things more exciting apparently, for others (like me) it just makes them feel violently ill like getting churned around in a blender.

Scantily-clad barely over 18 girls, because there's nothing that sells tickets like barely legal poon tang on display.

And last but not least, American flags aplenty...because this is 'MURICA, and if you don't like any of the above, you're un-American.

If you watch any number of Bay films in any particular order, you will see most, if not all, of everything I just listed pop up in his films. Now when I say the average American movie-goer, a large chunk of that audience are teenage boys, hence why most of Bay's films get the ever profitable PG-13 rating.

Now mass marketing crap to kids is nothing new of course, it's as American as processed McDonalds apple pie. However, when a majority of people start bitching and making fun of Bay's works online, yet his films continue to churn out record profits, there's something definitely wrong with this picture here. The "Transformers" movies are one thing. The novelty of the first film wore off quickly as each sequel only proceeded to rot brains worse than the ones that came before, yet they still make BILLIONS of dollars. Why is that exactly? Because people keep laying down their hard-earned money to watch mega-budgeted piles of shit so they have something to bitch about later on internet message boards and social networks.

"Transformers" is one thing, but the latest Bay re-tread to hit the masses is a new take on "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles"...and holy mother of fucking Turtle Christ will people not shut the fuck up over it. I'm not saying their complaints aren't warranted of course, but it's not like anyone put a gun to their heads and made them lay down the money to see such a piece of regurgitated fecal matter.

And, of course, TMNT is making money hand over fist. The movie that months ago, when set pictures and concept art and trailers were released had the internet buzzing with seething hatred and people swearing that "I'll never watch this piece of shit" is making so much money that it will probably knock "Guardians of the Galaxy" from its top spot at the box office. Why is that? Why is something that seemed to be so universally hated raking in millions upon millions of dollars that almost guarantees sequels and the like further down the road that will surely be as hated and looked down upon, yet will more than likely make even more millions upon millions of dollars?

Well, honestly, because the majority of mainstream American movie-going audiences are fucking stupid.

That may sound harsh, but hey, the truth hurts. You can shit all over me for it if you want, and believe me I welcome it, but the same people that bitch and complain about Bay and co. mutilating the source material and all that aren't helping matters by paying to see the fucking thing. I noticed it on Facebook last night when I saw quite a few posts from friends saying "I can't believe how bad TMNT is" and "I can't believe I wasted 12 bucks on that piece of shit". Well, what did you really expect guys? Seriously.

This is modern mainstream American cinema, and it will not get any better anytime soon, mostly because we still fork money over to see garbage that has Michael Bay's name on it. Although I have to admit that I kind of admire Bay's intelligence as a person: he knows he makes shit, and he knows his shit will make money, because he knows the average American movie-goer is a fucking idiot. Rinse, repeat.

If you really feel that Bay's take on films based on licenses you loved as a kid is ruining your childhood, there's one surefire way to prevent him from doing so: STOP PAYING TO FUCKING SEE THEM!

Now as a disclaimer, I just want to say that I'm not calling every person who went to see the movie an idiot, and I'm not calling anyone out if they somehow actually enjoy what Bay offers; more power to you and all that, so please take no offense....


...maybe.

25 Years of Tim Burton's "Batman"

Almost exactly 25 years ago, I was sitting in a movie theater with my mother, and while I didn't know it at the time, I was about to have an eye opening experience that would go on to define the rest of my childhood and even move on into my adulthood. It was something that my young mind may not have totally been ready for, but all the same it was something that I'll never be able to forget.

I'm talking about seeing motherfucking "Batman".

Tim Burton's 1989 update of the classic DC superhero was an awe-inspiring experience for me and countless other kids (and adults alike). Beforehand the only knowledge of the character and Batman mythology I had at that point was through comic books, which I had only just started getting into at that point, and believe it or not, I really don't think I was all that enthused about seeing "Batman" as I should have been (my Mom was actually more interested in seeing it actually, having a life-long love of Jack Nicholson).

But what is it that makes "Batman" not only so endearing to this day, but how it helped shape the legacy of superhero films in general? Is it the dark tone? The gothic, art-deco landscape? The magnetic villain? The brooding, tortured, somewhat psychotic superhero? It's a mix of all that and more besides. It all helped make "Batman" all the more special, and it paved the way for so much more to come (including the legendary "Batman: The Animated Series") that now, two decades and a half later, has a legacy that no other superhero film can ever hope to match.

That's not to say that "Batman" isn't without its flaws. I never gave two shits about what happened to its damsel in distress Vicki Vale, who in herself has such an underwhelming characterization and damn little in terms of character development that any scenes that focus on her become a bore. Making the Joker be the killer of Bruce Wayne's parents is also a bit of a "why the fuck?" moment as well, but all that aside, "Batman" is still a quintessential genre film with a cemented legacy.

Though in the end I do think that Christopher Nolan's trilogy served the character better than Burton's two films (and we won't dare mention the Schumacher abortions), there's no denying the impact and effect that "Batman" had in 1989, and still resonates to this day. If you haven't seen it in a while, give it a watch, and follow it up with "Batman Returns" and some handpicked episodes of the animated series. You'll be glad that you did.

Working on a novel, read the opening FOR FREE!!!

My writing career has stalled quite a bit over the last couple years, mainly due to the fact that I'm an idiot for not backing up my files when my previous laptop shit out on me and ate a majority of my work and works in progress. One of which is this "prelude", or opening if you will, to a full-length novel that I was in the process of getting off the ground. This is the only section of it that was saved, and that was only due to originally being an attachment in an email I sent to a friend a while back whose opinions and criticisms I was eager to hear.

I've usually always attempted to inject some sort of dark humor into anything I've written previously, but this marks a departure for me personally in terms of tone. The novel is tentatively called "Tapes", and details a serial killer that enjoys recording his crimes on good old fashioned VHS. In the middle of it is to be the discovery of said tapes by a film student, and the subsequent cat and mouse game that will follow.

Like I said, "Tapes" is something I wanted to do for some time that I want to make noticeably different from anything I've ever done before, and this rough cut of the beginning of the story hopefully represents that. So please, take a little bit of time, read it over, and let me know what you think; whether you're interested, disgusted, or think it's pure shit.

Maybe hopefully one day I'll get around to finishing it in full.

So here we go folks, strap yourselves in and hold on tight.....



TAPES BY NICK DURHAM
PROLOGUE
DRAFT # 1









The sting she felt as she opened her eyes wasn’t so much a feeling of pain as it was an annoyance. She felt something dripping down her right temple, and whatever it was had started running off into her eye. She wanted to rub it out more than anything, at least that was her first thought as to what her current heart’s desire was, until Gwen realized that she couldn’t move her hands. They were bound behind her as she realized she was sitting upright on a hard chair, probably a metal one at that, but she couldn’t be sure. The simple thing would be to look down, but every time she tried to move her head, the insides of her neck screamed in pain.
"What the fuck happened?"
Gwen managed to swivel her head around as she came to the realization that the room she was in was a dank, dark place. It was cold, and it just had a feeling of…dread. There was an atmosphere of some sort of sterility that wasn’t all that uncommon of the atmosphere she experienced the first time she went to Planned Parenthood in her youth. That feeling of dread that this is a place she shouldn’t be in.
"Where the fuck am I?"
Gwen’s concerns of her location only became exasperated when she finally noticed the camera on a tripod sitting directly in front of her. It was old, at least old to her. She didn’t know much about these kind of cameras, hell they were so rare anymore that she thought to herself if she had ever seen these kind of cameras in real life and not just on the internet or in old movies. She tried to focus her eyes directly on it. The buzzing in her head made it so hard to focus without seeing double, but when she did; she noticed the green light shining on the top of it and the cap dangling from the lens.
"It’s recording me…"
She thought to herself where was she last? It was last call at “RabbleRousers”, the local shithole bar that she had been moonlighting in for the past three weeks just out of desperation. In three weeks time, she had gone from having to take her clothes off for money and give the occasional handy to serving cheap whiskey for the old men and watered down Red Bull and cheap vodka to the college kids that come and go passing through Huntingdon Valley. But fucking hell, what the hell happened?
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
Nothing. Just a few creaks and cracks. She raised her line of vision up higher, noticing the singular light bulb in the ceiling. Smeared dust and a slightly swinging chain switch hanging down. It didn’t do a whole hell of a lot of good in illuminating the room, but what Gwen did notice is that there was something hanging on the wall to her left. She couldn’t exactly get a decent look at what it was, with the pain in her neck and head she couldn’t really turn to see, but what she could see was the shadowy outline of whatever it was hanging there. All she had to see was the sharp-looking tip and she knew what it was.
“Hello? Someone please….help me…”
Gwen’s words and pleas were choked down by tears that appeared out of nowhere. She never cried, hadn’t cried since Dad died nearly a decade ago. He always taught her not to let anything get to her, to always keep her cool. He was a cop once; he taught his little girl a lot, taught her how to survive in a mad world. And with everything she’s seen so far: dark room, hanging knife (or sword she thought), camera, and she’s bound and has no recollection of how the fuck she got here, Gwen knew that things were about to get very, very bad.
“I see a red door, and I want it painted black…”
Gwen felt paralyzed when she heard the singing voice. It’s coming from behind me… The thoughts running through Gwen’s head were going a mile a minute.
“No color’s anymore, I want them to turn black…”
She could feel his hot breath on the back of her head, feel the cold sharp tip of a knife pressed along the back of her neck, and the next thing her eyes caught was his rock hard cock as he stood to her side and started stroking it in front of her with his one free hand. Gwen could still feel the knife, pressing in a little farther that corresponded with his steadily faster strokes. He was getting closer and closer.
“I see the girls walk by, dressed in their summer clothes…”
All of a sudden he stopped. He wouldn’t let himself finish, not yet. He walked behind the camera and started doing something behind it, and she noticed the green light start flashing before it disappeared, being replaced by red and yellow lights flickering on and off instead. As he lifted his head up from behind, Gwen realized that he was wearing a ski-mask. He was completely naked, except for the mask. And that masked head of his was the last thing she saw before he reached upwards and pulled on the chain, turning out the light. Everything went black.
“I can still see you…little girl…”
The tears started running down Gwen’s face like a waterfall. She was paralyzed with fear like she had never ever felt before, so much so that she couldn’t find any kind of words to attempt to speak in an effort to plead for her life. She couldn’t comprehend just what was happening to her. And most of all, she didn’t realize the flickering red and yellow lights from the camera lifting into the air, moving around her.
“I can still see you…little girl…as long as I have this…”
The last thing that Gwen felt was the sharp stab that went through her throat as she finally managed to come up with the words to use to beg for her miserable, worthless, stupid life, and they went pouring out of her neck along with all the blood and bile that had been built up since she woke up here tonight. She was already bled out by the time his ejaculation had landed in her hair, and had already been long dead by the time he finally decided to stop recording with the night vision filter. Afterwards he pulled the chain switch back on for the light, and sat down on the floor Indian style and admired his work for just a little bit longer.

I'm About to Make You Feel Old

Look at that fucking guy right there. He looks like shit right? The thinning hair, the graying beard, the inbred genes finally rearing their ugly head. Poor old bastard.
So, you ready to feel old as shit?
Last time I talked about how it's the 20th anniversary of NHL 94, and I got nostalgic...so anyway...
It's 2014. This year I will hit the big 3-0 (no I'm not exactly looking forward to it) and it kind of terrifies me. It's not getting to 30 in itself (that alone is just plain surprising, and anyone who has known me well enough through the years will attest to that) that terrifies me per se, but the fact that so much which I hold in high regard, whether it be music, film, or whatever, is now older than I realized...so old now that it makes my head hurt.

Anyway, here's a list of shit hitting some unreal ages, so strap yourselves in folks:



Albums "Superunknown" by Soundgarden, "Jar of Flies" by Alice in Chains, "Far Beyond Driven" by Pantera, "Dookie" by Green Day, "The Downward Spiral" by Nine Inch Nails, "Point Blank" by Nailbomb, "This Toilet Earth" by Gwar, "Smash" by Offspring, "Throwing Copper" by Live, "Live Through This" by Hole, "Purple" by Stone Temple Pilots, "Voodoo Lounge" by the Rolling Stones, "Portrait of an American Family" by Marilyn Manson, "Burn My Eyes" by Machine Head, "Divine Intervention" by Slayer, "Youthanasia" by Megadeth, "Vitalogy" by Pearl Jam and the major label debuts from Weezer, Bush, and Korn were all released in 1994...they're all 20 years old.

April 5th marks the 20 year anniversary of Kurt Cobain's death.

The original "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" is 40 years old, released in 1974.

Next year, "Jaws" will also turn 40.

"Tales from the Crypt" went off the air nearly 18 years ago in 1996.

The Nintendo GameBoy is 25 years old this year, released in 1989.

This year marks the 15th anniversary of the release of the Sega Dreamcast, as well as the first 3-D Sonic the Hedgehog-starring game, "Sonic Adventure".

The original "The Matrix" was released 15 years ago in 1999. So was Kevin Smith's "Dogma" and the classic "Fight Club".

"The Terminator" and "Ghostbusters" were released 30 years ago in 1984.

The original "Transformers" animated series and toyline debuted in North America 30 years ago
as well.

Image Comics, home to "Spawn", "Savage Dragon", "Witchblade", "The Walking Dead", and more, was founded 22 years ago in 1992.

"The Walking Dead" comic series has been running for 11 years, starting in 2003.

"Robot Chicken" first aired almost ten years ago, starting in 2005.

The original Universal Monster films, ("Dracula", "Frankenstein", and "The Mummy") are either over, or approaching, 80 years old.

Hulk Hogan left the WWF to sign with WCW in the summer of 1994.

The New York Rangers won their first Stanley Cup in 54 years in 1994.

In September 1994, Major League Baseball players went on a strike that cancelled the World Series.



So yeah...feel old yet?

20 Years of "NHL 94"

I really can't fucking believe that this game is 20 years old now. It sure doesn't seem like it's been that long does it? 20 years of "NHL 94", and it still stands as one of the best video game hockey experiences you'll ever pick up and play.

I was admittedly a little late to the "NHL 94" celebration, by about a year or two if I remember correctly. Up until that point I had grown up a hockey fan, and in the video game world I had managed to wear out my copies of "Blades of Steel" on the NES, along with "Mario Lemieux Hockey" and "NHLPA 93" on the Genesis. Once I got my hands on "NHL 94", none of those games seemed to matter much to me anymore.

"NHL 94" was a revelation in terms of gameplay and authenticity to the sport at the time. The introduction of the classic staple of the series, the one-timer was one new addition, along with added features like goalie controls, penalty shots, and board checks; all of which helped make "NHL 94" the most realistic hockey game to hit the market at that point. Not to mention the fact that even without half those features I just listed, this game would still be an absolute blast.

One thing I remember fondly was playing as the Blackhawks, solely for the fact that Jeremy Roenick was on the team. For some reason, Roenick was like the second coming of Jesus Christ right off the fucking cross in this game. He could score off wicked one-timers and wrist shots alike, and he could hit probably better than almost any other player in the game too. If you ever played as or against the Blackhawks, you knew that there was going to be some kind of carnage on the ice, whether it be reflected on the scoreboard or the penalty box. On another note, Cliff Ronning, then of the Vancouver Canucks, was pretty godlike himself in this game as well...and no, I don't know why either.

As the years would come and go, EA would release subsequent "NHL" games like they do all their sports franchises. While "NHL 95", "NHL 96", and "NHL 97" were all solid games in their own rights, they were never as groundbreaking or balls-out enjoyable as "NHL 94" was. "NHL 98", the last 16-bit EA hockey game, came pretty close to "NHL 94"s level, but the reality was that nothing would ever match, let alone top, what "NHL 94" managed to deliver.

The game's legacy can be felt even to this day, with various websites dedicated to online leagues using emulated versions of the Genesis and Super NES versions of the game updated with modern teams and players. The game has been re-released once as an extra on the PS2 version of "NHL 06" for some reason, and the recent "NHL 14" has an anniversary mode that is done in the "NHL 94" style (but it sucks) and various other game franchises have attempted to emulate what "NHL 94" did, whether it be Sega's old "NHL All-Star Hockey" franchise or 2K's recently retired "NHL 2K" series.

Bottom line, I'm really not telling you anything you probably don't already know anyway. "NHL 94" is a fucking masterpiece that every now and then I'll pop in today for old time's sake, and the fact that this is a sports game we're still worshipping 20 years later is truly something special. If you never played "NHL 94", you should. And if you don't like hockey for some reason, you deserve an ice skate kick to the groin. Repeatedly.