GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #424: THE ENDING OF DARK SHADOWS

 

So as many of you know I finally finished the original Dark Shadows series. I've seen a lot of people complaining that there is no real ending. I don't think I agree with that. I believe there are three endings. And maybe four. If Peter Jackson added in Frodo's return to the Shire and his battle with Saruman and Wormtongue for Hobbiton, he might have beaten out how many endings Dark Shadows had.

Oh yeah, spoilers, if you haven't seen the show.

So the first ending: Barnabas, Julia and Professor Stokes coming back up the stairway into the future. Honestly, this is where the show should have ended. I believe their actions in . . . well . . . ah fuck it. It's super complicated, and I'm not sure I get it. So way back, Barnabas and Julia went back in time, and when they came forward in time to the present(-ish) they discovered the Collins family had been torn asunder, and Collinwood had been burned to the ground. They went back in time to fix the problem and discovered why the Collins family has such bad luck. Turned out they killed a sorcerer during the times of the Witch Trials, and he cursed them forever and ever. Except they repaired that bit and went back to the future to discover a very happy and untroubled Collins family. An uncursed Collins family. On the one hand, I hate that it undid nearly the entire show. Hell, probably the whole show. But they succeeded at their plan, and that makes for a great stopping point. It is, at least, *an* ending.

The second ending: The forced ending. So back in the past Lamar Trask gets shoved into a parallel universe by Quentin Collins (kind of) where he dies before the eyes of a parallel 1840s Collins family, and they are still cursed but in a much different way. Everyone thinks it was a spurned lover whose body doesn't decompose and is displayed in an evil room in Collinwood. The family has a lottery as to who must go in that room and spend the night, and no one has ever survived sane. They've either died or gone crazy. Sure enough, the two who go in there come out bonkers. Gabriel comes out a stark raving murderer, and Morgan isn't even himself; he's possessed by the spirit of the spurned lover. And it turns out, that guy didn't curse the family. Brutus Collins was disgusted by the weakness of his own family and curse them himself! It takes a stranger, Kendrick, who is only there to find out who killed his sister, to break the curse. And everyone lives happily ever after, right? Well, no. Because one of the family is carried into the parlor with an obvious vampire bite on her neck. So they really did plan to continue? Probably. But before it aired, they knew they were canceled, so they added in a quick voiceover explaining that it was just a coincidence. A mere animal bite. No vampires here. The end.

But . . .

The third ending: Sam Hall's epilogue. He was asked after the show ended what became of the characters he'd written for years, and he gave very specific answers. One of them was granting my biggest Dark Shadows wish of all. Barnabas finally acknowledged Julia's love for him, and they got married. Poor Quentin never did find the answers he was looking for and walks the earth a tortured man/werewolf/Dorian Gray. Roger doesn't live long after that final episode. And so on. I found that ending to be the most satisfying because even with the curse lifted, Quentin is still fucked. Nothing changes for him.

And then the fourth ending: the comic book series. Honestly I see no reason for Dynamite's series to exist. For some reason they decided that the story had to be finished. A story that had been finished no less than three times. But I'll say I enjoyed it. Even though Angelique (or Miranda, if you prefer) sacrificed her life to save the Collins family, she's back and evil in the comics, and she and Barnabas continue their love/hate relationship even though it ended in a very cool way on the show. Eh, it was a fun read, but you can skip it in my opinion.

I've seen all Dark Shadows has to offer. The original show, the two movies, the remake show, many novels (the best of which are written by Angelique herself, Lara Parker), a bunch of comic books (the original Gold Key books!) and even a few books written by the cast about their experiences and an album of the score. What I have not seen is the Tim Burton movie, and I dread ever seeing it. It looks like a parody of the show. Dark Shadows may have been unintentionally funny a lot of times, but the key word there is "unintentionally." They took their material very seriously. There were very few purposeful jokes in their scripts. I'm told there's a blowjob scene in the movie, for fuck's sake. On Dark Shadows, NO ONE HAD SEX. Was there romance? Sure. But as far as the show goes, sex is completely alien to the characters. I suspect it might have been in the bible for the show, like in the Batman bible it says that he's a virgin.

But yeah. I guess someday I'll see it. As I understand it Jonathan Frid has a cameo, and it would be nice to see him again. But the joke goes that he was so embarrassed by the movie that he promptly died just before it was released.

*sigh* Yeah, yeah. I'll watch it. Just not anytime soon, okay?

PS: If you like Barnabas Collins, and you like Carl Kolchak, you should probably read "Interview with a Vampire." I remember enjoying the short story more than this comic book, but they're both good.

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #423: LASIK

 I've flirted with the idea of getting LASIK done for many, many years, but I don't think I'll ever do it. First of all, it's kind of weird to have someone shooting a laser into your eyes to do some good ol' fashioned eye-cutting. It was a scary concept to me, and years ago when I saw a video of Kid in the Hall Dave Foley getting it done, it did not help matters. If you're going to do that shit to me, you'd better knock me out first.

But I've had glasses since third grade. I would feel absolutely naked without them. I couldn't imagine going to bed at night and being able to see everything clearly. It would weird me out. And when it's raining, what if water goes directly into my eyes? My glasses prevent that from happening.

But then again, what if the zombie holocaust happens? Or a cannibal holocaust? Or both at the same time? If my glasses break, well, I have a back up pair that are almost as good. And if those break? I have a pretty shitty back up pair. And if those break? I'm fucked for the rest of my life. Which might not be that long. I remember my old doctor once saw me reading a Walking Dead book, and he said, "Do you know who doesn't survive the zombie apocalypse? Fat diabetics." Sure, a little mean, but it was on point. I am fat, and I am diabetic.

But I'm not a fan of stuff in my eyes, which is why I don't do contacts. My eye doctor, when dilating my eyes, has to pry my lids open to put the drops in. I would not do well with the Ludovico Treatment, for example. The scene in Fulci's Zombie? Yeah, you know the one I'm talking about. I first saw that at a young age, and it has stuck with me pretty clearly over the years.

So while it might be for the best, I'll probably never get it done even if I could afford it. That's OK with me.

See?

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #422: DOWNTIME

 I miss having a job with downtime. The one I work now has zero downtime. Well, mostly. Someday I'll describe that last qualifier, but for now it's like this: calls come in constantly. I talk with approximately 100 people a day. If calls stop coming in, and it happens, then we start calling out. There isn't a lot of time to get to know my coworkers. Most of them I just know as someone I work with and say hi to every morning or bye to every evening. There are exceptions but not many.

All of my other jobs have had downtime, and as a result I've made a lot of friends with coworkers over the years. When you have downtime you can bullshit or tell jokes or just hang out or in one notable case watch I Come in Peace on company time. Then of course there is mischief to be had. Pranks to be played. I have to say my finest moment was when a coworker/friend left his computer unlocked. He absolutely despised Pulp Fiction (his love of the Fast and Furious movies explains everything), so I snuck by his desk and opened Chrome, his browser of choice. I then got an add on that changed how it looked. You know when Travolta and Jackson empty their guns in that one scene?

Yeah, that one.

From that moment on that image was at the top of his Chrome browser. He gave me credit for that one, and when he asked how to get rid of it, I said I didn't know. I was maybe telling the truth. The fog of memory . . . obscures . . .

(And if that prank sounds kind of mean, it's not. He drew first blood when he changed my background to an almost naked picture of Nic Cage that could have led to an HR conversation.)

But my favorite job for downtime was working at the library, especially when I was working behind the circulation desk. That meant that whenever someone checked out books, I got to see what they were interested in. If it crossed with my own interests, then a great conversation about books ensued. I can talk about books for a very long time. I think I might still be able to do it from beyond the grave. I have no way to prove that just yet, but don't be surprised if, after I die, I start hanging around your place talking about books.

I truly miss that job sometimes. But then again, a lot of weird and horrible shit happened in that place, too. I'm not sure if you ever read my two Tales from the Library columns from Tabard Inn, but if you have, you know what I mean. And it gets even worse. I'm talking arrests, convicted kid rapists, sexual harassment and assault. Crazy shit you would never expect to happen in a library.

But the pros outweigh the cons.

Hey, what is Brian Benben doing these days? Last I saw him he was in The Deer Woman

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #421: MORE COMPLAINTS FROM THE SUBURBAN PRAIRIE

 Every time you think I've forgotten about calling my hometown the Suburban Prairie, I feel the need to remind you that I don't forget these things, and as long as I'm alive, you're stuck with it.

Anyway, the complaints. The last of my medications ran out from the old (and much preferred) pharmacy. I'm stuck with CVS for as long as I have this job. Don't worry. I planned far ahead in advance. I have my new meds from CVS, as I learn from missteps of the past pretty well.

But the whole thing reminded me of the last time I went to the ER, which was after I learned of my forced transition to CVS. It turns out, going a few days without your meds is not good. For me, the result was a return of my stomach issues. Stomach, not pancreas. Yes, because of that madness, I wound up in the ER. If I'd gotten my meds just one day sooner, it could have been avoided, but what the fuck do I know, right?

So I got treated, and as per usual I got a few new meds to take. If this was back when I was with my previous pharmacy, all I had to do was head over there, and the fax is waiting for me there. They ask if I want to wait for it, and I always do. They say fifteen minutes. It's more like seven minutes. I take my meds and go home happy.

What happened this time? The fax was sent, sure, but unlike my favored pharmacy, CVS said, "It's not ready yet."

"I can wait for it," I said.

"We'll send you a text when it's ready."

"How long will that take?"

"It shouldn't take too long."

Yeah. That just fills me with confidence. When were my meds ready? About 45 minutes later. So maybe you can see where my discontent is coming from.

I am in kind of a mood to bitch tonight. I've entered the new phase of quitting caffeine. The first was not having any after lunch. The next was not having any after my morning Monster. This phase is only having that Monster every other day. Today was the first day without, and it kicked my ass. It usually takes a couple of days for the withdrawal headache to kick in, but this bastard wasn't fucking around with me this time. I call it Kreese because it struck first, struck hard and showed no mercy. My God, it crippled me during the second half of my workday.

These caffeine withdrawal headaches are nothing to fuck with. I remember going through it in the hospital once, when I was forbidden caffeine, and it cut through all the lovely morphine I was on at the time. Not even motherfucking morphine could stop the bastard.

So yeah, I caved. I got some caffeine as soon as I got out of work. Dammit, though. I need to do this. My blood pressure is so high that ER doctors lose a year of their own life just looking at it. These days caffeine and cheese are probably the chief contributors, and I ain't gonna cut the cheese out of my life. Caffeine's got to go.

So TL;DR: fuck CVS and John Kreese and caffeine withdrawals.

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #420: HIGH

To be read to this song. 

Yes, I'm high. Why do you ask?

Time to come clean a little bit. I don't always go to bed after posting these things. The problem is, there comes a time every night when I'm high that I lose my ability to complete sentences. I do this when speaking, too. I can start a sentence and suddenly have no idea of what I meant to say or even what I'm doing. As a result, I can't write these when I'm in that headspace.

So I wait until I feel the cannabis kick in. I have about a half-hour worth of a good buzz before I turn stupid. That's when I write these columns. And then, after I post, I put my phone away and let the drug have its way with me until I've degraded to the point of goofy laughter, which I then promptly forget what I was laughing about. And I mean promptly. I'd say three seconds after I finish laughing, I've already forgotten what I laughed about.

It's a good feeling, but it's not conducive to writing things.

Get some . . . some beer. And some . . . and some cleaning products.

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #419: PETER JACKSON?!?!?!?!?!

That guy? Really?!?!?!

When I was a very young man, Hollywood had been threatening to make Lord of the Rings into a movie for about as long as I could remember. By that point we had three cartoons: The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings (which did not cover the whole story) and The Return of the King. I'd long given up hope that they would ever make the movie, much less make it a good movie.

Then came the day that I learned what the world now knows as history. I was working at the library in those days as a page. It would take me years to graduate to the circulation desk, but I worked the stacks, and on Friday nights I would work my final hour in periodicals. Josh, a friend of mine, worked behind the desk on some Friday nights.

That fateful day he greeted me as I walked up the three steps and into the periodicals department. "Did you hear the news?"

I had not.

"They're finally making Lord of the Rings into a movie!"

I highly doubt it.

"And you'll never guess who's directing!"

Okay, I'll bite. Who?

"Peter Jackson!"

Peter Jackson?!?!?!?!?!?! The Dead Alive guy? Meet the Feebles? Bad Taste? That guy?!?!?!?!?!

"Yep."

Josh knew my love of Lord of the Rings, and he knew my love of Peter Jackson. It had to be a trap. Why would Hollywood let a guy primarily known for weird and gory horror movies direct Lord of the Rings?

"I read about it in Fangoria."

I didn't believe him. I had to see the issue of Fangoria myself before I could believe it. And the more I thought about it, the more it made sense that a horror director would helm Lord of the Rings. Think about the Barrow-Wights! And Frodo's fight with the King of the Nazgul! Gollum would be in the best of hands. And the Dead Marshes! And the Dead Men of Dunharrow!

I was sold on Peter Jackson doing it in that moment. It would take years before I'd get to see that first movie, and I was not disappointed. I have a problem here or there with the films, but nothing that irritates me to the point of no return. Plus, watchful viewers will catch references to the Silmarillion, and that's pretty cool.

And now what was once an unthinkable film is being adapted as a show. I'm not certain how I feel about that. Do we really need a new Lord of the Rings show? Maybe. I doubt it, but maybe. I guess I'll hold off on judgment until it's released. But what I'd really like is a history of Middle Earth type of show that builds up to the trilogy. That would be pretty nice.

It would be sweet to see Morgoth in action.

We never got the Barrow-Wights, dammit. Way to go, Peter Jackson . . .

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #418: LOOK WHAT ARRIVED TODAY

 

When I got home from my adventures today I was very pleased to see the new Lansdale had arrived. I took a look at that cover and thought, huh, that style looks very familiar to me. It took me a moment to think about my own books. STRIP and POOR BASTARDS AND RICH FUCKS in particular. And then it came to me.

Luke Spooner! I'd know his work anywhere! I'm glad to see that he's getting great work. I remember a while back I saw his work in Cemetery Dance, and now here he is working for my favorite living author! That's a hell of a gig, Luke! Congratulations!

Here's something very few people know right now. I can count the number of people on my fingers, in fact. Luke did the cover for my next book, too. One that has not been announced yet. One that some know I've been working on, but they have no idea that it's almost upon us.

I'd wanted it out in time for Printers Row, but things got in the way. I no longer had as much money as I was supposed to have due to surprise expenses, so I had to backburner the book. I'm going to try to get it out by Christmas just in time for the sick fucks on your shopping list, but in all likelihood it will probably be out early in 2022.

I can't wait to show you what Luke did for this one. It's an amazing cover, and you're all going to love it! Stay tuned . . .