I believe that everyone who sets about writing in earnest does his work, as a friend of mine phrased it, on something - tea, or coffee, or tobacco.¹

The weary words of the unfortunate Rev. Mr Jennings - a character doomed by the tragic flaw of loving tea much too "extravagantly". For my own purposes tonight I turn (as always) to reliable ol' red wine - a substance not generally noted for whipping one's nerves up into states of high agitation. I urge club members to follow this lead.

Those who persist in slurping down mugs of hot 'tay' (God help them) do so at their own risk.

Should you require an alternative stimulant (to get the synapses fizzing) then please feel free to sample some of the delights contained on either of the Dreadful Thoughts mix/muxtapes:

1) "O, Whistle and I'll Come to You - Eerie Musicks for Dreadful Thoughts"

2) "Dreadful Thoughts Two …Dread by Dawn"

Scrub the face, mutter a prayer or two, tuck the children in and let's get cracking.

1. "Green Tea" in The Wordsworth Collection of Irish Ghost Stories (Wordsworth, 2005), pg. 24. [back]

[Being the second, and final, part of the "I was home sick so I watched the Planet of the Apes Box-set" reflections]

Given that Star Trek films tend to range from the awful (The Final Frontier, Insurrection) to the just about adequate (The Voyage Home, First Contact) then lauding The Wrath of Khan (1982) as the high-point of the series isn't really saying all that much. Yet, for all that, a high-point it most certainly is - largely because of (and not despite) the mesmerising, pantomimic clash of Grade-A ham(s) that is William Shatner vs. Ricardo Montalbán.

Not only does Khan have the diabolic effrontery to hurt Kirk (and go on hurting him) by leaving him "buried alive…marooned for all eternity in the center of a dead planet" (see 2.20 onwards for the best of the action)…

…but Montalbán himself gleefully accepts a challenge most actors would baulk at. He steps up to the plate and goes toe-to-toe with Bill Shatner in the carpet-chewing game. He comes, he chews, he conquers.

As delicious as many of his "Khan" flourishes were, however, the most memorable Montalbán moment may have come ten years earlier - in 1972's Conquest of the Planet of the Apes. The film opens in 1991 - the future…at least from a certain perspective. Like many imagined futures (of the time) concrete overpasses and underpasses abound. It's a bit like Basingstoke - only with slightly more police brutality and monkey slavery.

Into this dystopia (and we know it's a dystopia because there are curfews, ID Cards, and public loudspeakers that blare "Attention! Attention!") steps "Armando" (Montalbán), the compassionate circus owner from the previous film.

With him is "Caesar" (Roddy McDowell, once again) - the intelligent simian offspring of deceased time-travelers Zira and Cornelius.¹ Horrified by man's barbaric treatment of his ape brothers (apes, I might add, who look suspiciously "evolved" for 1991) he snaps and yells out "Lousy Human Bastards!" (thus risking exposure and capture).

In steps the gallant Montalbán to cover for him. "Twas I", he says, "Who said those words". "Are you sure it wasn't your monkey there?", asks the copper. "Not at all, my friend!", laughs Ricardo. "Prove it", barks back the copper, "Say those words again till we hear ya".

So he does. And how.

The coiled rage; the jaw-trembling build up; the fabulous explosion - it's every bit the equal of Shatner's more celebrated "Khaaaaaaannnnnn!!!".

Anyway, time for bed. Night, night…you lousy human bastards.

1. It's a long story [back]

Though the rosy-fingered sun continues to blaze away impressively, filling parks & beaches with ruddy little children, we here at Dreadful Thoughts HQ shun such heliolatry - drawing the curtains close and morbidly focusing our grim attentions on matters horrific.

Accompanying us on our sixth wander down literature's darkened halls will be Dublin's 19th century master of the macabre - Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu.

If you thought a mere monkey's paw was cause enough for concern, then "Green Tea", with its full simian compliment of paws, eyes, teeth (etc), may push your fragile & ragged nerves beyond the limits of their endurance.

Enjoy.

Story: "Green Tea" (html), (html)

Meeting: Monday, 19th May, 9.00 p.m.

From god-like ferrets, to ghostly doggies, and on (this evening) to a "cursed" & withered simian extremity - our mammalian carnival of horrors just keeps on truckin'.

More than any of the five authors we've discussed thus far, W. W. Jacobs' popular reputation rests heavily (if not exclusively) on but one tale (and what an influential and oft-parodied tale it is) - "The Monkey's Paw" (1902).

The popularity of the story has not only guaranteed it the status of evergreen "horror anthology" staple, but also allowed/encouraged it to cross over into the realms of children's literature.¹ Thus it was, in a mediocre children's miscellany, that I first came across a (no doubt abridged) version of it. The mixture of sadness, profound loss and (off-screen) horror stayed with me for years. In this, I very much doubt I'm alone.

So here I am (and we are) many years on - ready, willing and eager to discuss it (while getting mildly pissed, or caffeinated). To keep us company we have the second volume in the "club's" ongoing mixtape/muxtape series - "Dreadful Thoughts Two: Dread by Dawn". Listen to it, wallow in it, and thank our resident DJ Niall Munnelly for putting it all together.

I'm a terrible man for "further ado" - so (without any more of it) let's get comfortable, and begin…

1. And wider pop-consciousness. [back]

Pot the red 'n' screw back, for the yellow, green, brown, blue, pink 'n' black…¹

Near enough to the last minute I know, but I wonder if I might humbly request a Dreadful Thoughts Story Club rescheduling?

One reason is that this Monday (as those who pay attention to calendrical matters will no doubt be aware) is a bank holiday.² Chances are that horror fans might miss the 9 o'clock kick off as they try to squeeze the last few hours out of the weekend in Kilkee, Lahinch, Ballybunion or national/international equivalents.

The more important reason, however, is that Monday night (5th May) sees the conclusion of the World Snooker Championship in Sheffield. Long-time readers will possibly be aware of my love of clunking balls and green baize, but if anyone needs (or wants) reminding then have a quick rummage through these.

1) Chess With Balls

2) More Chess With Balls

3) Triple-X Crucible Hardcore

4) Rockets vs. Grinders

5) Wo kann ich ein kühlschrank magnet kaufen?

6) Manky Toy Monday: Super Pedestal Ball

Getting to the point - the long and the short of it is that I'd like to keep this coming Monday free. If there are no major objections could we switch our "Monkey's Paw" meeting to Tuesday, 6th May, at 9 pm instead? Let me know whadya think.

Story: "The Monkey's Paw"

Meeting: Tuesday, May 6th, 9 p.m.

1. Snooker Loopy [back]
2. In Ireland at least. [back]

What, I ask, does one do when home for a few days with "the sickness"?

Huddle sobbing in the corner munching packets of paracetamol? Maybe. Offer up one's soul to the dark lords for a magical cure? Perhaps. Watch all 5 Planet of the Apes movies back to back?¹ Undoubtedly!

Though the 1968 original remains one of my favourite "genre" films,² I hadn't watched any of the four sequels since I was a (fairly easy to please) schoolboy. The following posts (yes, there'll be more than one) are merely the results of some hastily scribbled and fevered observations made, while propped up on the couch, as the DVDs spun.

1) Beneath the Planet of the Apes (1970)

Though Leonard Rosenman's delicious soundtrack is a definite highlight (almost the equal of Jerry Goldsmith's classic score for the original PotA), this remains a thoroughly daft and demented slice of late 60s/early 70s Sci-Fi hokum.³

Square-jawed, oiled-up astrohunk Brent (James Fransiscus) not only follows Chuck Heston (R.I.P.) through time and space to Ape City, but does as shameless a Chuck impression as has ever been put on screen. You keep expecting him, in moments of heightened stress and physical torment, to yell out "It's a Madhouse!!". This doppelgänger-ness is even slyly (or perhaps accidentally) acknowledged by Zira's confused exclamation of "Taylor?" when she first sees our beardy hero.⁴

Though the opening, above-ground, sequences are merely fairly dull retreads of scenes from film one, the bonkers-o-meter really swings into overdrive once Brent and Nova go beneath - down into the remains of a shattered New York. There they find (and are captured by) a gang of human survivors ("Eloi" to the Apes' "Morlocks")⁵ who not only retain the power of speech, but have also developed the natty ability to communicate, create illusions, and inflict harm telepathically.⁶

"Fair play to them", you may be thinking, "I hope they righteously kick some monkey arse". A note of caution, however, should now be sounded. They may amount to all that's left of human civilization (in the year 3978) but they're also unhinged religious zealots…

…and (beneath their fleshy masks) - hideous radioactive mutants.

Like many religious communities, "worship through song" is an important element in their ceremonies. Unlike many religious communities, the object of this worship is a big, shiny (and phallic) "doomsday" bomb. It's a madhouse!!

In one of Beneath's most unforgettable sequences,⁷ humourless cult leader Mendez (Paul Richards) leads us in the the kind of prayer that would have had me desperately trying to stifle (wicked) laughter in my mass-going days.

"Glory be to the bomb and to the Holy Fallout,
As it was in the beginning,
Is now, and ever shall be.
World without end…Amen".

And so on…

The "mutant choir" then decide to inject a bit of oomph into proceedings (and kick it post-apocalyptic) with a blast of that olde-timey favourite, "Almighty bomb!":

Almighty bomb!
Who destroyed all devils!
And created angels!
Behold his glory!⁸

Have a listen -

At this point Brent was, no doubt, grinding his Heston-esque jaw & gazing anxiously about for the nearest exit - but wait - there's more techno-mystic lunacy to come. As distressing as it may be, the only contemporary tune that seems to have survived the apocalypse (and made it as far as the 40th century) is "All Things Bright and Beautiful" - albeit in a mangled, mutant version:

Aside from these musical excesses (and I should point out that the versions here are remixes) the soundtrack is, as previously suggested, terrific. The same, however, cannot really be said for the film as a whole - which is, on one level, probably the weakest of the four sequels. I say "on one level" because though it's "not good" in any conventional sense, its not-good-ness is never anything less than bizarre and interesting.⁹ In that it has the edge over most of the (many) "not good" films being made in the 21st century - which are invariably "not good" in wholly tedious and formulaic ways.

Anyway, any film that ends (as this one does) with a dying Chuck Heston spitting out the words "You bloody bastard!" (to Dr. Zaius) as his hand falls on the switch that activates the bomb and, thus, destroys the Planet of the Apes (a.k.a. Earth), is one well worth watching.

Kaboom!

[The "Ape Chronicles" continues shortly…]

1. I'm excluding Tim Burton's execrable remake. [back]
2. I've probably seen it about 30 times. [back]
3. Though, as we shall see, there's much that can be said in "hokum's" favour. [back]
4. I can barely tell 'em apart, so you can't blame a chimp for being a bit bewildered. [back]
5. But with a reverse. The apes dwell above; they live below. [back]
6. With an amusing (synth-noise-accompanied) nod of the head. [back]
7. Interpret "unforgettable" whatever way you want. [back]
8. Or possibly, "Behold this moment!", or even "Behold his coming!". [back]
9. The same can be said for all the PotA sequels - to a lesser or greater degree. [back]

If you were given the gift of but one wish, one wish in this whole wide world, what would it be?

If you've just shrieked "Wildly rich! Rich beyond the dreams of avarice!", then I fear I can't oblige you. If, instead, you offered the more modest answer of "Why, only for 'The Monkey's Paw' to be subject of the next Dreadful Thoughts Story Club!" then consider your wish fulfilled.¹

W. W. Jacobs' "The Monkey's Paw" (html), (pdf)

Read it, rehearse some witty things to say, and return to this damn'd spot on Monday, May 5th Tuesday, May 6th, at 9 pm. As always, newbies/virgins are most welcome.

In other (related) news a second volume in the Dreadful Thoughts Mixtape series has been initiated. It can be found here and, like before, your contributions are needed. For login details, leave a comment or mail me.

Finally, I promised Midget Wrangler that I would upload an image of the hard-won Filthy Badge "on my person" - so here it is.

It sits snugly beside the DT badge on the strap of my bag and, so far, they are getting along famously. I shall treasure it.

Story: "The Monkey's Paw"

Meeting: Monday, May 5th, Tuesday, May 6th, 9 p.m.

1. And this one does not come with too terrible a curse. [back]

This blog's recent forays into (among other things) the colourful worlds of horror and bestial fan fiction seem to be bearing stranger fruit than I had anticipated.

Where previously I had been busily moderating and deleting (tedious) spam comments that appealed to my perceived need for credit cards and Viagra, the latest batch seem to focus on my (perceived again) weakness for the literary and the hard-core pornographic.

Consider the following for example (received on Tuesday morn):

horror, then a strong thrill of grief, then a desire a necessity to where can i find free lesbian movies the Leas are coming with him he sends directions for all the best kuyftjupzqk¹

The "horror" and "strong thrill of grief" were (as a quick search confirms) emotions felt by Ms. Jane Eyre (in Charlotte Brontë's novel of the same name). The "necessity to…find free lesbian movies", however, does not appear to have been mentioned. I suppose it could be implicit…

In Chapter 17 of JE Adele Varens (the child that Jane becomes governess to at Thornfield Manor) is allowed to "sit up much later than usual" (on the night of a party) as she could not "possibly go to sleep while the doors kept opening and shutting below, and people bustling about".

A slightly different slant on this later than usual up-sitting is offered by the following recent slice of spam:

…for she declared she could not possibly go to sleep mature lesbians dildoing in the office a step which sank instead of raising me in the scale of social kuyftjupzqk

We've all (I'm sure) been in just this situation. It's the night before a big exam (or job interview) and the furious sound of "mature lesbians dildoing in the office" destroys any chance of a peaceful night's sleep.

Also, living above (or beside) such a debauched office would clearly sink (instead of raise) you in the "scale of social kuyftjupzqk". It's easy to say "Just ignore social kuyftjupzqk!" (and all its pieties and hypocrisies) but the reality is that we're all insecure slaves to it.

1. He/She who "sends directions for all the best kuyftjupzqk" is surely a self-help guru of some potency. [back]