That husky was one hell of an actor.
Kell brought over The Thing, which I almost felt like I’d seen due to repeat viewings of the X-Files tribute episode, “Ice.” There are no walking heads in “Ice,” but there is a long-frozen entity that might be of some interest to the CDC.
This #31DaysofHorror is draining (and I’m sure vastly rewarding), so I kind of just let myself experience The Thing, let the brutal arctic landscape and the body horror and the subterranean ice caves wash over me. It was almost pleasant.
But the project is nothing if not a searing examination of self, my relationship with horror in general, and how easily manipulated I am by various media (verdict so far: very. Very easily manipulated). I was reminded of when I was a kid, and even age-appropriate programming offered its own terror
Wander McMooch, you sonafab&*$#
and in response I would grab the nearest house cat and tell her she had to stay, like some kind of fear-buffer. Like I needed someone to bear witness without telling me to just pause the damn VHS already.
Last night I had Milo draped in my lap — Kurt Russell makes him all gooey and droopy, I don’t know why — and when I was sure Kell couldn’t hear, I leaned down and whispered into the fat little guy’s ear: “Thanks for being here, old sport. I really appreciate your presence.”
For reference, this guy:
If he can’t stand between you and the gaping maw of mortality, who can??
