No, I'm NOT referring to last weeks Thanksgiving fiasco with the fam and your painfully loud obnoxious Uncle Mitch who, upon hearing about your penchant for horror movies and contrasting affliction to consuming dead flesh, reenacted a scene from Texas Chainsaw Massacre with bits of turkey skin to push your buttons. If that was your initial thought in reading the headline, however, don't worry, it's a perfectly natural reaction. Especially this time of year.
As for your uncle Mitch, well.... send him to my house for Christmas. He'll be a welcome breath of fresh crazy, believe me.
No, I'm talking, of course, about the odd-daciously salacious catechism that is F/X's American Horror Story: Asylum. You know, the show I gushed about on its season 2 premiere back in October? Man, am I kicking myself for that one. I totally jinxed it...
Psychopaths, possessions and Zachary Quinto's school of Ed Gein. OH. MY. And that's only the people running the asylum! There are about 20 other crisscrossing overstimulatory cray cray back stories and plot line in this epic tableau of WTF to keep you reeling till the syphilitic cannibal mutations come home.
The season started off well enough. Good strong horror hocks from which to build greatness, plus they ripped off the arms of that Maroon 5 guy, which I've been waiting for someone to do for years. But then the pinhead disappeared after the big storm that hit Briarcliff (eerily the same week Sandy hit the East Coast in real life-- anybody notice that?) and shit hit the fan. The road split off into a thousand different splintered fractions of every pinch of the genre you could think of and the show ran off with any semblance of sanity and genius the writers may have had lingering from the first season. From French girls with axes to alien abductions and Ann Franks lobotomy, after this season there won't be any randomly taboo ideas left to scrape off the bottom of the F/X barrel. I really have NO idea why I'm still watching-- a feeling quite familiar after the ridiculousness that was Lost round about the second to last season-- other than the fact that I'm kind of convinced the season finale will be heads and televisions across America spontaneously exploding after the flashing Sister Mary What-the-Frak's head starts flashing on the screen, the ghost of Connel Cochran laughing softly in the night....
Wait. Wrong movie.
Or is it? HA! Think about that.
To sum up my feelings, in one word, I leave you with this:
Have you been watching? What do you think?
1 comment:
Sweet and comfortable. Perfect harmonie of taking and giving. Thinking about torn up bodies while sitting in a warm, cleaned room, deligating the cleaning-woman.
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