THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE

"What would you do?" 

"They'll back me up: it's just wiener-water."

The Haunting Of Hill House is more depressing than scary, but it is still pretty scary. Not as scary as Hereditary or The Exorcist or as disturbing as The Silence Of The Lambs.  Now that I know where the jump-scares are I will watch The Haunting Of Hill House a second time. And I am a glutton for punishment, so I shall queue up Dahmer. You should read My Friend Dahmer a b+w indy recommended to me by my comic book makin' son. 

Elsewhere: Brian Tallerico sez The Haunting Of Hill House is "essential viewing." What's with all the Horror lately? My theory is that Horror is the only genre that actually deals with declining mental health and suicide. Scout Tafoya doesn't like Ari Aster but loves Rob Zombie.

What I learned from my hemorrhagic stroke

Nothing. Everything. 

Might as well read a book!

Nothing. Might as well go for a soda. Heck, might as well go for an IPA!

Now we're talking!

Play electric guitar while you're at it (I did!). Use justinguitar.com (I did!). 

Everything. I am slower now, and I talk ugly. Also: high-fructose com syrup -- I used to avoid the stuff, now it's a part of my daily diet and I've lost weight and become a cheap date (I still loves the IPA -- the grapefruitier the better). 

Before movies I used to drink a doppio espresso con panna just to stay awake. Now I drink espresso fed via teaspoon to feel something. 

I used to jump at my own shadow. "Is this cancer? Is that cancer?" Then I disappeared and lost my voice. The doctors all say I'm lucky to be alive. Needless to say I don't jump anymore. 

I'm glad I'm experiencing a hemorrhagic stroke now. Five years earlier I'd be dead. Now I'm on the computer all the time. I love the Internet. The Internet is the bane of people's existence — hey, I get that. But the Internet has been the godsend of my existence, so I am going to defend it.

Links: part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5. 

“Merry Christmas!” from WP

I follow Sam Kieth here because I like the way he draws women. That's been only the start, of course. 

Wolverine and friend: Sam Kieth

Kate Winslet: "Men only care that you have a bum." 

My bona fides: Just so you know — I'm so Left I'm crazy. I think taxes should be sky-high. I believe transit should be free and I believe in a universal income. I also believe in Jesus, so good luck to me. "Render unto Caesar," baby!

Date a Nurse!

When I couldn't speak the question I was most likely to overhear was: 

"So, what time are you taking off?"

The other question I overheard (but not nearly as often) was: 

"What's your training?"

Hospital staff, especially Nurses, want to know if they are beholden to the person they are talking with or some Poindexter in the Halls of Academia. 

Speaking of Nurses: 

• if you want to date a conservative, date a Nurse. 

It'll look nothing like this -- promise!

Nurses know there is an unspoken liberalist bias in the media, and no place higher (in every sense of that word) than the CBC. 

 Trust Whisky — date a Nurse!

Christmas, 1975, a village on the Canadian prairies

Our family opened presents on Christmas Eve morning. Apparently one Christmas Eve morning I sat and quietly read a Pogo book, oblivious to the gifts in front of me. 

I never made that mistake again. 

I would have pegged this as the Christmas of 1976, but Google puts The Lunar Lander LEGO Kit 565 at 1975. This was my favorite Christmas gift (well, next to Citizen: Steely Dan boxed set of CDs some years later, of course) and I got the year wrong. 

And, no -- these guys don't fit inside the lander. 

I was in grade 5 and twitterpated with the girl next door. She had dark eyes and an orange ski-suit (I called it a "snowmobile suit" once — boy, did I get corrected, and not in a happy way!). We played "Fox and Goose" in her back yard. I once complained about being "poor" and she gave me two dollars in quarters. I spent it all at the Grow Sir, knocked at her back door and gave her the paper bag full of candy. 

I'm still fond of Bottle Caps. 

Tastes about as good as it looks. 

The LEGO was purchased at downtown Eaton's in the city. My pretty aunt from Toronto gave me a Hardy Boys novel that Christmas. I exchanged the book at Eaton's for the Hardy Boys Detective Handbook. I thought the Handbook was a big deal but my aunt called it the "Defective Handbook." When I got back to the village I discovered all the Hardy Boys books had been reprinted. Right — the "Defective Handbook" it was. 

Christmas night I tied on Super Slider Snow Skates over my mukluks. My youngest uncle was over from Alberta and he also had Super Slider Snow Skates. He was in his early twenties. After pyekking up and down the sidewalk we took the toboggan to the lumber yard and slid down a very steep hill. 

In another Christmas or two I'd be asking for sunglasses and a weight set, but in 1975 it was LEGO. 

Spalding Gray's SWIMMING TO CAMBODIA

If Spalding Gray's Swimming To Cambodia is collecting dust at your place why not give it a blow-n-go this season? 

It's just a guy behind a table... 

Elsewhere: Wiki, Roger Ebert, POPmatters

THE IRISHMAN dir Martin Scorsese writ Steven Zaillian

In many ways The Irishman on Netflix is a typical Martin Scorsese movie. It stars Robert De Niro as a fellla in an Old Folks Home who now realizes he has gained the world and lost his soul. For over three hours I was never bored, in other words. When it comes to old men I would rather watch Scorsese deepfake than other directors and their latex rubber and phony costumes. 

So don't give me this!

I see Goodfellas and The Wolf of Wall Street are streaming. If you haven't already, see those. Then watch The Irishman. 

SICARIO: DAY OF THE SOLDADO dir. Stefano Sollima writ. Taylor Sheridan

Three guesses what "Soldado" means (and the first two don't count). Sollima and Sheridan have watched a lot of movies by Sam Pekinpah. The good news is these movies can be streamed from the usual suspects. Failing that Sicario: Day of the Soldado can be streamed from Netflix. 

"Sorry -- did someone say, 'movie'?"

Spend Christmas in the lounge!

Got guests that just won't leave? Put these on your playlist and watch what happens!

INTO THE WOODS for real!

"I'll bet you've never seen a man put on makeup before."

This was The Centennial Centre in the late-1970s and the Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra was apologizing for the snooze-fest that had been "The WSO and Ernie Coombs present Prokofiev's 'Peter and the Wolf.'"

This wasn't that. 

That was pretty bad, alright. Even Mr. Dressup was fighting off sleepies, and he was on-stage. Now here was a mild-mannered fella putting on makeup. 

"This is 'stage makeup,' actually. I do this. And this. And suddenly... 

"... I'M A WOLF!!!"

There was a kid in the front who jumped a foot and I swear it wasn't me! But it could've been. I was not expecting that. For the next 90 minutes I got a retelling of The Little Red Riding Hood that made Into The Woods look tame by comparison. 

Rattling in my brain-pan: the importance of the blog

"1.6 milion"?  Easy-peasy, man! Readers new and old alike are urged to try Vintage Whisky: Yearly Selections. I'm playing the long game, alright. "I now find I'm treating this blog the way I treat my private notebooks, as a scrapbook space." Oh, just wait until you start filling your "private notebooks" with "MERRY CHRISTMAS! HAPPY NEW YEAR!" The blog's gonna start feeling really important.  

I looked like this when I started blogging. Today 

monitors are slimmer. I OTOH... 

My current roommate

My first roommate in the hospital peed on everything and laughed. The second called the black workers "Boy" and asked the females to give him porn. He was loud and constant. My third roommate was a wrestler who lied like a sidewalk while his wife sent him videos of her naked bum as she tried on jeans. I got the impression during his phonecalls that he didn't much like me. His mother visited every day and did questionnaires. She did one on Bad Language. "I asked the Priest about taking The Lord's Name in vain, but you gotta talk!"

"Oh, Jesus Christ!" Etc. 

So it's kind of a big deal not to have a roommate at all. Everything else -- the exercises, etc. -- pure gravy. 

Plus, I keep a tidier desk -- just ask my wife!

Former (better?) WP: my Bible College roommate

Back in the day

"Where did you get that word?" asked my grade 5 teacher. I was a year or two from seeing Star Wars. But William Friedkin/William Peter Blatty's The Exorcist was the only show in town. This is the original audience: 

Other links: What four flms define you? (No, really) -- wp. I have a list of 15 Film Faves but Gidget is all you really need to know. And I enjoyed speed-reading Easy Riders, Raging Bulls by Peter Biskind (Amazon).

"Goin' Down Jordan"

My late mother-in-law Esther Alice Jost loved this song. She'd put on the Harry Belafonte Christmas (A) when she was decorating the house and you knew she was really cookin' when this song came on: 

Mr. Belafonte knows the song's narrator doesn't make either Anglicans or Baptists look good. Hey, I like "Goin' Down Jordan" too. It's catchy, and on my playlist.