Growing up in an excessively-permissive household – one where I was allowed to watch any movie or read any magazine I wanted without so much as a second glance – was a double-edged sword. On one hand, it was (obviously) totally unbelievably awesome: while my friends were stuck watching kiddie fluff, Disney flicks, and PG-rated fare with their parents (how embarrassing), here I was – the envy of all other first graders – reading FANGORIA Magazine and watching horrific movies and TV shows via early-’90s HBO, all on my own. (You KNOW I never missed my Saturday night showing of Tales from the Crypt.) Continue reading STUFF THAT SCARED ME: The Brood
I oftentimes find myself wondering, “How did I get this way?” How did I end up the gore-loving (and relatively normal) weirdo I am today? What things did I consume growing up – whether by television, movies, books, or otherwise – that helped shape and develop my love for the weird, horrific and obscure? I have a ton of fond memories of discovering horror as I got older, but it’s really the darker, weirder, scarier memories that stayed with me and I believe had the biggest impact.
There are a ton of micro-occurrences that probably did most of the shaping, I’m sure – but they’re so buried in my subconscious that I’ll (thankfully) never remember what they are. Instead, it’s a handful of big, clunky memories that stick out to me, ones that I often recall and attribute to conditioning my love for the horrorstuff. These vivid recollections are responsible for what you see before you today. Continue reading STUFF THAT SCARED ME: Little Chrissy and the Alphabeats