Undead Things

broderic on July 27, 2010

One of the reasons I had for writing about my love of ghost stories was to explore feelings I had for other types of stories in the horror genre. In fact, I had started that post with ghost stories but intended to touch upon vampires, werewolves, monsters, and the undead. This post is to begin adding to the other post.First things first, these rambling posts were inspired by watching the summer anime series, High School of the Dead. The first episode is standard zombie fare: the dreaded zombie outbreak with no explanation as to its cause. A school in Japan is where the mayhem takes place with students being attacked and attacking alike. The zombie hoard of recently killed students eating the remaining living students. Lots of blood flying in this one. I watched the episode with pleasure. Its fanservice was stupid fun, but it kept me wondering about zombie attacks and our reactions and responses to them.Zombies (the monsters, the stories, and the movies) don't do too much for me. The George A. Romero, slow zombies aren't too frightening. The fast twitch, neu zombies do, but they are not what I'll be discussing today. I can't believe in fast zombies. The dead, because of rigor mortis, shouldn't move very fast. Plus, fast zombies are even more scarier. I just don't want to deal with them.Why is it that in dealing with zombies the major problem arises from stupid mistakes of the survivors? "Don't open the door!" "Don't go out and save her!" "Don't let him in! He's infected!" Your chance of survival is directly proportional to doing common sense stuff and keeping away from them. I guess that's why the Zombie survival book was a big hit. It made explicit the common sense things to do in order to avoid death when the dead rise.In the anime, the kids did the stupid things to die. If you do the stupid things, you'll die. The only way to live is to not do the stupid things.And that's my problem with zombies. Through proper, rational thought, you should survive. Keep your wits about you, and you should live. By being sentient, you should live. Avoid being stupid. You'll be dead. Smart equals living. Dumb equals dead. Your intelligence will get you through the zombie infestation. It's that easy.That said, if it's fast zombies, all bets are off.

Ghostly things

broderic on July 26, 2010

Saturday night and I get home, plop on the couch in front of the TV, watch an hour, and then fall asleep. Television is still on. Earlier, I happened to run across AMC showing The Shining and made a mental note to avoid as the night got old. As I tossed and turned through the night on my uncomfortable couch I catch glimpses of what show is playing on the TV. In the quiet of the early morning, I see that the television is back to AMC. Jack Nicholson's frozen, grim visage greets my sleepy eyes as I try to focus on the television. How did I get back to AMC or did I not change the channel the last time to avoid this creep show? I don't think I did it, but I can't be too sure. I'm hoping for a better explanation, but there are goose bumps on my arms.I like all things creepy by which I mean mainly ghostly. A spectre haunts my imagination. Ghosts, to me, are a million times cooler than any vampire, werewolf, or zombie. It's because I can't really know if they aren't real or not. It's because the shades and spirits spring from my own imagination.I wonder why I like ghost stories so much. In my own library, I have several compilations of ghost stories. Plenty of old Victorian frights, some smattering of modern spooks, and plenty of early twentieth century ghosts. Authors as great as HG Wells, Mark Twain, and Ambrose Bierce have creepy stories. They fill several books with some scary things. These books' spines are well worn and plenty of pages are dog-eared. One of my favorites is from the Twilight Zone television show. In this book, there's the favorite "House on the Square" story. We tell this story all the time. I think it has to be a favorite just because of how it was introduced to me. The Twilight Zone book isn't mine. It's my older brother's. One night a long time ago in the house on Cedarhurst, the story kept him from sleeping, so naturally, he comes into my room to read it aloud. It's about ghost hunters debunking haunted places. One ghost hunter is a believer. The other is a skeptic. My brother then focuses on the central detail of the story — the Penang lawyer. It was one of the ghost hunters weapons, but was used in the house on the square to signal the arrival of danger. *KNOCK* went the Penang lawyer. *KNOCK* *KNOCK* again. After finishing the story, my brother went back to his room. *KNOCK* across the wall separating us. Ha-ha very funny, but very creepy as well. From that moment, I had to read the book, and since it is a favorite to look for some creepy stories.There are plenty other ghost stories I love — "The Shadow in the Corner," "The Judge's House," "The Red Room." All are frightening enough to have me leave the lights on before I close my eyes to sleep. I like the goose bumps I get from reading them. I like the hair on my neck to raise as I flip the page. I like that cold chill down the spine wondering if that creaking out in the hall is the house settling. I like ghost stories.

Link of the Day [1.22.10]

broderic on January 22, 2010

Sleep talkin’ man.

It could describe any number of friends and family, but this link goes to the world famous one.

I know I caught CapSwell sleep talking some times. Funny stuff.

Some say that I talk in my sleep. Until someone documents it, I will deny it. Sometimes, I want to document my sleep talkin’ too, but I’m scared to find EVP on the recording. Who knows who else is in my room as I sleep?

http://sleeptalkinman.blogspot.com/

Mt. Vernon Ghost Walk

broderic on November 15, 2009

Somethings are better written in the light of day. It is better writing about creepy, spooky, frightening things in bright sunshine than in the dark of night. The spooks and frights are less convincing when the shadows in the corner are gone.

Halloween was a few weeks ago, but we wanted to stretch out spook season for a few more days, so we went on the Mt. Vernon Ghost Walk Tour. It’s an offshoot of the Fells Point Ghost Walk, and it leads you around the haunted places of Mt. Vernon, Baltimore. It also gives you a nice history lesson of Baltimore for what are ghosts stories, but tales about a place — it’s history. But that isn’t so memorable, so let’s make it scary and you’ll remember the story.

That’s what’s was great about the ghost walk, the stories. Ghost stories are better in the first person whether that be P.O.V. or by spoken word. P.O.V. being me telling you my ghost experience. Spoken word is the ghost story being told out loud. And the story teller of our ghost walk was first rate. They really do a good job of telling the story.

Now, Baltimore is a great town for ghosts. It’s because of our second rate status. We are a small city trying to live big. We are south but never got a chance to secede. We are in between worlds just like ghosts. We have a chance to go between worlds.

There were great tales on the walk. It was a fun night. I liked it. I was spooked at times. I was surprised at times. I like ghost stories. You’ll have fun if you go.

Up the Longnecker Road

broderic on October 31, 2009

One thing about cycling alone that makes it difficult is that on those lonely back country roads, it gets spooky. You look over your shoulder and can imagine something or someone following you, and your cadence picks up moving you quickly away from whatever it was that had you spooked.

Now, at times I get spooked, but it is always just a figment of my imagination. I’m not one to worry to much about the spooks. They come and go, and I continue on pedaling to my goal. Yet, I can’t help but think about a situation I ran into this past summer. On this spooky of evenings, let me tell you my tale. It may give you chills.

Butler Road is a favorite of the biking community. It can connect you to many other routes throughout Baltimore County, and it’s relatively near civilization. It’s in the beautiful valleys northwest of the city.

I make my way there all the time this summer. It’s become part of my favorite biking routes. I’ve always wanted to climb the hill off of Longnecker Road in that vale. At the top is a radio tower, you can see it whenever you ride there, and it usually beckons. I’ve never been up that way, but finally, on one of my last rides, I decide to check it out.

It was on over cast summer day cool which is great for a bike ride. I go out and pass through Reisterstown Road, out to Timber Grove, which spits me out onto Dover. I bomb down the hill at 40 mph, then hang the left out onto Dover Road proper. I take the left onto Longnecker. A cloud occults the sun and it looks a little bit like rain. The wind kicks up. A head wind sucks. I put my head down and grind into the wind hoping that when I get to the base of the hill that it will shelter.

I reach the base of the hill. It’s over a creek, around a bend, and through a stone quiet vale. The road hangs a right, then sharp left into the woods before the climb starts. I’m grinding up in a low gear. Half way up I pass an old lady walking her dog. Weird. Then I make it out of the woods, but the hill kicks up. It’s next to a nice field, but the road gets steeper. I’m out of gears, so I focus on trying to get up the hill.

At the top you can see a farm. There’s a false flat so that you don’t see the crossroads. You climb up the steepest section, make it to the false flat which rises to the crossroads.

Up ahead I see another cyclist resting. He’s tuckered from the climb too.

I pull up next to him. Huffing and puffing. Sit down and swig some water from my water bottle.

“Tough.”

“I usually like this hill, it’s less steep than the backside. But I wish the club ride wouldn’t have left me behind.”

“Club ride? Where to?”

“Carroll County and back. 40 miles. I’m late and must catch up.”

Even though, I’m overheated, I feel a chill.

“I’m always trying to catch up to the group.”

“I know how you feel. I’m a slowpoke myself.” This is when I take a good look at my rest stop companion. He’s an older gentleman riding an older bike: friction shifters and really only 10 speeds. Odd. The chills.

I look back down the hill, and see another cyclist coming up. His appearance startles me. I turn to the gentleman, but he’s just muttering, “I must catch up.”

The other cyclist reaches us. My rest stop companion, asks for directions out to Butler. The cyclist doesn’t know, but continues on with his ride. He gives us a queer look as he pedals away. “Follow me, this is the usual club ride.” My companion barely acknowledges.

“Well, I’m going right. Left should get you back to the group ride.”

“Maybe I’ll follow you.”

And with that the chills come again. To be followed by this gentleman just somehow gives me the spooks something awful. I get on and pedal away, quickly.

Over the backside, the road is in terrible conditions. There’s potholes and patches, its steep, and bumpy. I’m trying to go as fast as possible without crashing. I glance back on occasion to see if he’s following. Nope. Thank, god.

I don’t know, but that encounter always creeps me out. I don’t know what happened to that guy, but it was always strange how he didn’t know where to go and to be always trying to keep up. Who was that man? And why did he give me the chills?

Quote of the Day [2.05.09]

broderic on February 5, 2009

“Here comes a candle to light you to Bed
Here comes a chopper to chop off your Head”

“Oranges and Lemons,” Old English Nursery Rhyme