Ever since I was 10 years old and snuck into my first horror movie (hint: it was the movie I saw on 31 October 1978), I have been an avid fan of horror movies. From the Saturday afternoons glued to the TV set for Creature Double Feature to gorging myself on the slasher films of the 1980s and on, I have a deep love and understanding of the horror genre. Even when I couldn’t get into the theaters at a certain age, I would hang out every Sunday afternoon at the neighborhood bookstore and thumb through the horror magazines (esp. Fangoria), wondering what terrible misdeeds (often committed with garden tools, no less) awaited me on the Big Screen. So, I like to think I know from whence I speak. And that’s why I’m going to spend a slice of my Friday letting you, the fledgling splatter fan, know what I feel needs to be cleanly cut away from the bloated corpses of modern horror/suspense…

1) ENOUGH WITH THE REMAKES! Barring the impressive effort of the remade Dawn Of The Dead, the rest of them are a pale retread of often far superior films. This also goes for most of the sequels, prequels, “reimaginings” (I hate this word!), and whatever desperate excuse to bank on people’s childhood memories comes down the pike. If you can match or top the namesake movie, then do it or get out of the director’s chair.

2) LEAVE THE INTERNET OUT OF IT! Any horror movie which has the Internet as its basic or central premise is bound to be a steaming pile of cinematic dung, or, to borrow a phrase from Diabolus Rex, “crap fit for cretins.” This should be painfully obvious but, given that there are people who still bother to make these net-centric bombs and people who will actually go to a theater to see them, I simply must be overestimating the intelligence of the Great Unwashed. So, now you know.

3) MOVIES THAT HAVE TO GIVE US “THE BEGINNING” STORY! You know, part of the appeal of some of Hollywood’s best slasher films is that we don’t know too much about the antagonist, which makes him (or her) even scarier. This entire fact is lost on loser directors of modern horror who feel that exposition (and way too much of it, too) helps us better understand the killer. Guess what? I don’t WANT to understand him — I want him to remain a mystery to some degree. I liked that there was once no way to know what kept Jason Voorhees from dying, or that there wasn’t any more info on Freddy Krueger other than he was a child molester and the neighborhood torched him, and, no, I really never wanted to be let in on why Leatherface became the drooling ax-wielding retard that he is. What’s next… group therapy for them all?! Sensitivity training? The only shrink I want to see in those sessions is Hannibal Lecter, and he’d eat ALL your faces.

4) LACK OF T & A! Put it back, put it back, put it back.

5) TARANTINO NEEDS TO GO! Would someone repeatedly swing a flaming, barbed-wire covered baseball bat (that one’s for you, Jim) to the head of this obnoxious little man so we can all be spared his boring, talky, and just plain lame movies? I think we could all suspend that little law about murder in our country for about five minutes just for him, huh? Put Jigsaw on the job, as he seems to never really die, anyways.

6) PALE CREEPY ASIAN GIRLS WITH LONG WET BLACK HAIR! Yeah, we got it. Spooky, spooky, spooky. Now knock it off. Korea, please save us!

7) VIDEO GAMES ARE NOT GOOD PREMISES! For whom is this a big shocker? Listen up, Tinseltown… video game movies NEVER work. For horror, even less often… if less than never was an actual amount.

And, finally, it is highly apparent that zombies need to go take a nice little nap and come back in about 10 years, as they have been showing up WAY too much these days. Fucking zombies are everywhere and I’ve had my fill of them until at least 2015. I say more werewolves. Not enough lycanthropes for my liking, and that needs to change. But, something tells me that won’t happen until it’s a friggin’ reimagining of The Howling (perish the thought!) with Tarantino directing about online werewolves who devour Asian girls who always keep their clothes on. No thanks.

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(from CNN.com, with my brief thoughts to follow…)

NEW YORK (Billboard) — Former Kiss guitarist Mark St. John died Thursday (5 April) from an apparent brain hemorrhage. He was 51.

Born Mark Norton in Hollywood, St. John was Kiss’ third official guitarist, having replaced Vinnie Vincent — the substitute for Ace Frehley — in 1984.

By this point, Kiss had done away with its trademark makeup and costumes, but the group was enjoying a career renaissance. The lone Kiss album on which St. John appeared, “Animalize,” re-established the group as one of the world’s top arena metal bands. The album spawned the popular MTV video, “Heaven’s on Fire” (the only Kiss video to feature St. John)…

St. John’s flashy playing reflected the era’s Van Halen-influenced rock guitarists, but it certainly helped spark the material on “Animalize,” which many fans consider one of Kiss’ strongest non-makeup releases. However, right around the time Kiss was to launch a worldwide tour in support of the album, St. John was diagnosed with a form of arthritis called Reiter’s Syndrome, which caused his hands and arms to swell, and prevented him from playing guitar.

Guitarist Bruce Kulick filled in (St. John did manage to play one full show with the group, and portions of a few others) and eventually replaced St. John as Kiss’ permanent guitarist.

His medical condition improved after leaving Kiss, and St. John launched a pop/metal outfit, White Tiger, with ex-Black Sabbath singer David Donato. St. John briefly teamed up with original Kiss drummer Peter Criss in a group that didn’t release any recordings, and appeared as a guest speaker at Kiss conventions. In 2001, he released an all-instrumental album, “Magic Bullet Theory.”

“I wish to express my sympathy to Mark St. John’s family and friends,” Kulick said in a statement. “Though Mark was the guitarist I replaced, I respected his talent and contribution to Kiss. May he rest in peace.” (END OF ARTICLE)

I was 16 when Animalize came out, and although it does fall into the period of the band history when Simmons was partially present at best (and, more especially, off doing movies, signing/managing/recording bands, and various business dealings), you wouldn’t have known it by this album (though, some would argue that the lack of Simmons’ presence would certainly show on the next three albums). When I think of 1984, I think of Animalize without hesitation.

Even aside from the more obvious tragedy of premature death, it has to be one giant smack in the face to have gotten into what was one of the biggest bands in the world, all to lose it in a blink of an eye through some disease most people have never heard of. Initial reports in 1984 described the onset of it as swelling his hand to the size of a softball… the very appendage needed to continue his career. That’s the real tragedy.

Oh, and I did own the White Tiger album, in case you were wondering. He and Donato were the best parts of an otherwise lackluster record. (This is where Bill M. goes… “Hey, I could tell you all about Donato.” And that he could.)

And if needing the urban legend angle, it’s been rumored for the past week or so that it was really Ace Frehley who died, based off a rumor started earlier this year and mentioned here. Some say the culprit was Hal Sparks, but it could have been someone else. Given Frehley’s substance abuse, one would think it plausible, and plausibility is often the mark of a good lie. No, the drug addict lives, and the guy with an unfortunate arthritic condition goes. And Vinnie Vincent’s still kicking, too. Life is kooky that way.

Goofy teen memory of this album: I was 16 and working as a bagboy for a supermarket chain (one that no longer exists). After getting a new boss who was bent on making my shifts a complete nightmare, I finally broke and told him off loudly in his office, expletives included. After storming out of the place, I threw on my Walkman’s headphone, hit play, cranked the volume, and reveled in my otherwise pointless rebel high to the strains of “I’ve Had Enough (Into The Fire)” on my walk home. Oh, it was glorious in a way only those precious outsider teen moments can be.

And speaking of spectacles, Gene Simmons’ Family Jewels started its second season a few weeks back. It’s practically the only show worth watching.

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