Ginger Nuts of Horror
Thanks to everyone who shared and commented on yesterday's post, both here and on Facebook, and in a few instances in emails.
Some of you, and it might be my fault for not being clearer, thought the article was about Ginger Nuts, it wasn't. It was about you writers slaving away and the sense of loss of community (that's why I used the picture from Community).
Most of the comments were positive, but some of them and in particular some of the emails had a rather sour grapes feel to them. I want to address a couple of them here briefly, before a more in-depth follow up article in a few weeks.
Some of you may know I've been off work for a couple of weeks with a busted up leg. I've spent more days than I care to remember lying on the floor of our living room desperately trying to get comfy. Doped up on more painkillers than I can even name I've been unable to focus on reading or writing, but what I have been doing is spending a lot of time tinkering about on the site, watching the awesome The League on Netflix, and farting about on Facebook.
Part of what I've been doing with with the tinkering of the site has been reaching out to other websites, magazines, people on Facebook and other organisations that I thought shared a love of horror, and what I've found has been somewhat saddening and frankly really off putting.
Clowns are scary. Allegedly. Personally I don’t get it. I don’t like them particularly. They're the least-funny source of comedy since the last time Miranda Hart fell over. But I don’t find them scary. Many do though, it seems. I’m not sure when or where the idea of clowns as a horror device started, but it’s fairly well ingrained into popular culture now. From Bart Simpson refusing to sleep because “clowns will eat me”, to full-length books and movies, clowns have now joined vampires and werewolves as an actual monster breed. How they feel about that is anyone’s guess, but if nothing else it’s certainly given them a longevity that their tomfoolery alone wouldn’t have allowed.
I like to think that I’m a man’s man. You know the sort, big strong, not afraid of anything. The sort of man who, when faced with danger turns into the all action hero ready to defeat whatever danger is facing those that he loves. And I would like to think that I’m pretty capable of doing this sort of thing, as an ex British kickboxing champion, someone who knows how to handle a firearm, and dab hand at survival skills all topped off with an anger and a rage that will see me go all Berserker on those that threaten me I reckon that if faced with almost any sort of horror monster I would come out top. However there is one thing that I am terrified of, one bogey man that can turn me into a quivering wreck. What is it? Well read on to find out what scares The Ginger Nuts of Horror
Better the Devil you Know. I was torn between titles for this one. I was either going to go with the above, or "Sympathy For the Devil". In the end the content of the article made the decision for me. So the Devil, then. Not a real person. Not to me, anyway, as an atheist. But also, strangely, not to a lot of Christians either. As time has moved on so has the belief system, so that many Christians don't even accept existence of the Devil as a literal being.