GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #502: THE NEW TWILIGHT ZONE

I'll bet a hundred years from now we will still have new Twilight Zone shows.

 

While I was recovering from my second toe amputation I took it upon myself to watch every single episode of the new Jordan Peele Twilight Zone, and I fucking loved it. Not every episode was good, but some of them I would put up against almost any original TZ episode from the 'Sixties. I say that as someone who saw every episode of the original. Every episode (sadly) of the one with Forest Whitaker hosting. And I've seen a few of the episodes from the 'Eighties version because it's not out on DVD and no one cares to stream it.

(Side note: one of the 'Eighties ones was about JFK surviving that day in TX and how horrible the world turns out because of it. I'm almost certain Stephen King ripped it off for 11/22/63.)

So the new series. These things inevitably feel the need to remake an original episode. This one chose "Nightmare at 20000 Feet," cunningly retitled "Nightmare at 30000 Feet." This one has a special place in my heart because it guest stars Dan Carlin, the host of my favorite podcast of all time, Hardcore History. I liked the way it was updated so that instead of seeing a gremlin on the wing, the protagonist finds an mp3 player with a podcast on it about the doom of that very flight. It fucks with the guy until he's Shatner-crazy so that even though he's not aware of it, he's making the podcast become a self-fulfilling prophecy. It also stars Russ Hanneman from Silicon Valley as a stranger sympathetic to the main character's needs. And it never ceases to amaze me that this actor voices Mickey Mouse, especially considering how foul-mouthed he was on Silicon Valley. The ending of this episode made me laugh a lot, but I won't spoil it here.

"Six Degrees of Freedom" is a powerful episode that would lay waste to maybe half of the originals. A group of astronauts on their way to Mars discover that while they're in space the earth has been destroyed. They no longer have a home, and they are the first humans to go to Mars, so there is no terraforming or anything. The tension can't merely be cut with a knife. The tension would take that fucking knife and cut YOU.

I also enjoyed "Blurryman," but I suspect many of you would find that kinda cheesy mostly because of the reveal in the end. I dug it a lot, and it brings a writer back from the dead, so that's super cool. Again, no spoilers here.

But hands down, my absolute favorite is "Try, Try." Often a show will do a Groundhog Day episode, and this is certainly TZ's version of that. But no one ever asks, what if you are part of someone else's Groundhog Day? What if that person is obsessed with you? What things has this person done to you that you don't remember because the world resets every day? This episode asks those questions and more, and I'm delighted with the answers.

I'm pissed off that they ended the show after two seasons. That was a quality program, and I would have loved more episodes. Fucking . . . fucking shit. If you have Paramount+, I highly recommend you watch it. And don't forget the new Star Trek shows, which are awesome. And check out Strange Angel, while you're at it. It's the true and very weird story of Jack Parsons, a pioneering rocket engineer who, in his spare time, was involved in a sex cult. The show didn't get this far, but in real life he was scammed by L. Ron Hubbard, who took him for a couple thousand dollars, a boat and Parsons's wife. I don't know how people like that con artist. Hubbard was a good writer but not that good.

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #271: WHAT I HATE ABOUT STAR TREK

When I was a kid, I found something unusual. My father and stepfather hated each other, but they agreed on one thing: I should watch Star Trek. That was back when there was only the original series and a couple of movies. My father took me to my first movie ever, and it was STAR TREK 3: THE SEARCH FOR SPOCK. So I watched Star Trek in reruns, and I thought I'd seen every episode.


Then came Star Trek: The Next Generation, which I grew up with and loved. Again, I thought I'd seen every episode.


Deep Space 9 came along, and I didn't watch. Same for Voyager. Same for Enterprise. I have yet to see the animated series and Discovery.


Then I got Netflix. I saw I hadn't seen every episode of TOS and TNG. I went on a trek to watch it all. I've seen all of TOS, TNG, DS9 and V. I'm almost done with Enterprise. All shows have one thing in common that I absolutely can't stand.


They all have opening credits that last longer than Rip Van Winkle was asleep. Holy shit, I hate a long opening sequence. I love credits that last five seconds and no more. TOS is insufferable. TNG is worse, and DS9 is even worse. V is horrible, and E is the worst of all. "It's been a long time . . ." No shit. If you cut back 90% of the opening credits, we'd have more time for the show. Hell, as much as I hate advertising, I'd take that over these ridiculously long opening credits. I love Star Treks, but this is something that bothers me. Thankfully, on Netflix I can fast forward through that shit, but still.

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #182: WINTER'S GOT TO COME FAST

This is day two of my new job. I've become a Metra commuter. This means that when I get off the train I have to walk about fifteen minutes to my office. It's fucking killing me.


OK, it costs a lot, but when I've been with the company for three months, they start paying for my train tickets. That's not the worst of it. It's the goddam fucking relentless heat. Even worse, in the morning I walk into the sun. In the evening I walk into the sun. So much direct contact from the sun is turning me to mush. It's not natural. It's a ball of fire in the sky, and it must be avoided at all costs.


I arrive at work every day with a shirt soaked through with sweat. My face is wet. My fingers are squishing together. My balls are almost all the way to my knees, and I can feel them stuck between my thighs. I imagine it looks like the web from the Spider-Man trailers with the Twin Towers in them. Horrible. HORRIBLE.


I try my best to cover my sweat up with cologne, but that's not enough. I feel very uncomfortable for the next eight hours even if my clothes have finally dried off. My hair is a sweaty mess and can't recover from it. I spend about ten minutes before going into the office just trying to clean up, and it never works.


And then I get to do it again on my way back to the train station. I always arrive about 20 minutes before my train departs for Elmhurst, and when I slump down into my seat--picked before anyone else gets on--I see my reflection in the window. It looks like Gollum just before he became Gollum. I put more cologne on even though I know it's not going to make much of a difference. I dab my face with tissue, leaving wet crumbs of the stuff all over my face and collar. I'm turning into a beast.


GAME OF THRONES always threatens that winter is coming. I can't wait for that shit. I need to show up JUST FUCKING ONCE for work without being covered in sweat. I think when winter finally does come I won't even wear a coat. I might even walk the streets of the Windy City in the nude just to feel nice and dry when I walk into the office that morning.


When I get home I shower immediately. It's one of the greatest feelings in the world. Even better than an assisted orgasm. Even better than drinking Wild Turkey 101. Good God, it's even better than reading a kick-ass book.


Can we please ban any weather over seventy degrees? That would be a huge help for me. Either that or we need to invent a transporter. Scotty, beam me to work. I don't care if there's a fly in here with me. Sure, it's fun and games until your dick falls off and you have to keep it in your medicine cabinet. But I'd rather show up dry at work with some semblance of hygiene. Thank you.

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #171: INVISIBLE FRIEND

I was a very lonely kid. I had very few friends. As a result I spent a lot of time alone. To my own devices. That worked out pretty well for a budding writer, but as far as social interaction goes? It fucking blew.


I've been watching a lot of STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION lately. I just came upon an episode where a young girl has an invisible friend, and it brought back a few memories of my childhood. Since I was so lonely, I tried to create an invisible friend. I'd come across the concept in fiction, and I tried to apply it to my real life.


My invisible friend's name was Mack. He knew a lot about books, and he was a tough guy. He could kick anyone's ass, which was important to me because I was severely bullied as a child. I didn't have the strength to fight back, but he could. He even knew how to put authority figures in their place because once the kids at school were done fucking with me, I had to go home to an abusive step-father and a neglecting mother.


The invisible friend didn't last long. I tried. I really did. My mind is too suited to reality. It refused to believe in Mack. I remember trying to talk to Mack about my shitty day when I was seven years old, and in that moment, I felt like an idiot. My imagination worked pretty well for working with toys and such, but when I tried to pretend I had a friend? Nope. I couldn't trick myself into believing. I just felt like a dumb ass talking to air, pretending it was real.


My invisible friend lasted a week. I couldn't even succeed at faking social interaction. As a result, I spent a lot of my life shunning everyone and everything. It took me a long time to recover from that. In all likelihood, I wouldn't have done it without the help of my friend, Robert Tannahill.


I still can't believe that I'm surrounded by awesome people today. People I'm proud to call friends. People I'm proud to call family. If I could go back in time to tell that young version of me . . .