A FEW DREADFUL MUSINGS

I’ve been pretty fortunate lately that some of the shows I’m into have been blessed with a long shelf-life. Game of Thrones is a show that I’m into that seems destined to have a good run, the Walking Dead, and now we have the wonderful Stranger Things that seems like it might be around for a bit. But for every show I get to liking that keeps on ticking, there are always shows that I join late that just go away — gone, finished, kaput. They tend to be broken down into compact little units — 2 or maybe three seasons at the most. Some insist that this makes them perfect for binge-watching. I insist that this makes them perfect for working my last nerve. Some of these rotten shows I genuinely come to love, then they are out of here, like my own private little 9 ½ Weeks (God, wasn’t that movie awful). Love denied is a hideous thing. It makes you gloomy and ugly. 

Penny Dreadful was such a show. 

A show like Stranger Things seems tailor-made for me. It’s a big melting pot of a bunch of 80s stuff I love. Then again, Penny Dreadful was also a show that seemed made for me. I will confess that I am a Universal Horror nut. We’re talking the classics here — Bela, Frankie, Wolf-Wolf, movies named after Poe stories and poems with nothing to do with the stories and poems they are named after. I am also a Hammer Horror nut. I like Lugosi but will admit that my own classical image of Dracula is pure Christopher Lee. I must also confess that I like some of that long-winded Victorian prose. I often lament long-winded Victorian prose when I converse with a teenager and realize that the English language is dying. One must also realize that I possess a fondness for hot, possessed chicks. Hot possessed chicks, Timothy Dalton, the Wolf-Man and Dorian Grey — how do you top that? 

Okay, so the show wasn’t canceled and perhaps reached its predetermined end after 27 episodes. At least this is what John Logan (his Penny Dreadfulness) is claiming. It doesn’t matter … gone is gone. Why must I get to know you, show, love you, and then you are gone too soon? You big, gothy tease you. Sigh. It makes me want to dress in black and compose stilted love sonnets to daffodils (scorpions, maybe, those who have seen the show will get the reference) on tombstones at midnight. Boys don’t cryyyyy ….

‘cept when our shows go away. 

This is one of the shows that not many people seemed to watch or be aware of that actually had a ton of cool shit going on. It was beautifully acted, shot, and mostly well-written. Heck, the B-plot with Frankenstein and his creatures was worth a film all of its own. If you haven’t seen it, check it out, you could do a lot worse with your time. 

The Tin Man wants nothing to do with this guy, I assure you.

Speaking of shows with a long life on the shelf, or in this case cable, American Horror Story recently released six teasers for the coming sixth season. Now, I have a very well-established love/hate relationship with this wacky ass show. American Horror is like the bad little kid whose butt you wanna kick but whom you still love for his badness. I will admit these teasers got me kind of excited, especially this image …

They should be at your house around midnight.

It reminds me of one of my favorite Creepypastas … The Disappearance of Ashley, Kansas. As Count Floyd use to say, “scaryyyy!”. Here’s a dumb vid‘bout that and I shall wrap up this brief entry! I shall return, my friends.