The Neverending Barrage Insults My Intelligence

I fear headaches.  (Photo Credit: Ashley Rose)

I fear headaches. (Photo Credit: Ashley Rose)

You just need to watch more TV because normal people love TV and you’ll love it eventually if I just keep talking about it and talking about it and talking about it even though I know you don’t care and then you should go out to a bar or two or three or fifteen because the only legitimate way to meet women is at a bar (because only the good women like to drink and drink and drink and drink) or at a steroid enhanced sports event or at all of those places you claim not to enjoy but you will enjoy them because I’ll make sure you do because I know what’s best for you because I have the wisdom because I live in front of the television and I go to church every Sunday, which in turn is something you ought to do because it’s good for the soul and because everybody does it and because the Bible says so and because it’s fun and I don’t want you to experience eternal damnation with the prostitutes and the murderers and the thieves and the intellectuals and the Kardashians and glory be to Jesus and glory be to Jesus again because you really can’t give Him too much glory, especially after you’ve joined me at the latest action movie with lots of sex and severed limbs and more dead bodies than a mortician sees in a lifetime plus blood spurting and spraying and flowing from the bodies across the floor, amassing into a puddle until the red liquidy goodness overflows the room and surges as a river like the Blood of Christ, which is what you ought to be thinking of in that movie theater because He is everywhere and you must do everything according to Christian beliefs and popular culture because that’s the only way you can be likeable and there’s absolutely positively no contradiction whatsoever between religion and everything I want you to do for the rest of the week and if you listen to me you can be saved both in this life and in the next and my selling of television and movies DOES NOT sound like the way I sell church and I can’t understand why you you would accuse me of trying to “sell” either one because they’re both wonderful and I don’t have to sell them and it’s completely unfounded to say that I don’t know when to take no for an answer because I do listen and I do stop talking and I do take your preferences into consideration and I am not being judgmental and I want you to be yourself and I want you to decide for yourself and I don’t want to force you into anything you’ll hate and I want you to come here and watch season six of Survivor with me but first let me give you the complete rundown on the first five seasons and then we can go to church and you will have so much fun…

Horror Movies Insult My Intelligence

Yippee.  An evening in front of the TV and I’d rather be anywhere else.  Tonight we’re watching Spleen XVI: The Severance.  In case you’ve never heard of it, the photo above comes from its most iconic scene.

The two soon-to-be victims, and you just know they’re going to be killed because of the music, are preparing a meal in their restaurant.  Because horror movies don’t try for much symbolism or, really, for anything much beyond cheap predictable thrills, the food is typical chain restaurant fare.  Now, this is a movie called Spleen.  Would it have been too hard for the screenwriters to let these guys be cooking spleen before having their own spleens ripped out and mailed to the mayor?

Oops.  I jumped ahead in the story.  Where was I?  Oh yeah… foreboding music and SCREECH!, two dead men.  Like the image I posted here, the camera’s focus always remains on the men’s torsos.  They’re being objectified for their luscious, voluptuous spleens!  How much more sexist can this film get?

Anyway, the murderer removes the pulsating spleens and mails them to the mayor in an attempt to terrorize the town.  That’s because the entire town has to be terrorized; it would be hard to fill another seventy minutes of screen time unless the entire town is brought into it.  But then, this is America.  There are plenty of ways to terrorize the town with two perfectly good spleens.  In this country, we don’t eat a lot of the tasty and nutritious animal parts that the rest of the world does, unless of course they’re ground up into a hot dog.

Therefore, I think the film would have been better if the killer had opened a spleen restaurant.  That would have scared everyone in town and been much less predictable than what I had to sit through.  They could have even kept the rest of the movie’s formulaic plot: after being terrified by the killer’s actions, the population bands together and eliminates the villain (although not before a few of the townsfolk die off).  And then there’s happy music and cheering and dancing and a remembrance of the people who were despleened.  The story goes the same way in all horror films, so I wish the writers had given us something truly original.  If the killer had just opened the restaurant, someone could have run out screaming at the end:


Author’s note:

Yeah, I know that was a cheap ending.  However, it fits in perfectly with Hollywood’s standards.  Nevertheless, at least my alternate ending would have set up a more believable story for the next film in the series, Spleen XVII: Dinner for Tomb.