Friday, April 26, 2013

Things That Should Bump in the Night: We Continue to Defy Logic

Last week, we talked about some of the strange things we (mostly Paul) are afraid of. Catch up here!

Spoiler! This adorable creature makes him shudder
Now we’ll have to get back to Anya, whose fear of being attacked by one the perps of SVU only kicks in when she is alone, in the dark, trying to get to her car. Not so crazy, in this day and age. However. She has a few other deep seated phobias that make much less sense. You can guess from our twenty somethings tagline, that we are children of the 1990s. Great. (Someday that will fucking shock people. “You were born BEFORE the year 2000?!!??!” No time for that crisis right now, but damn.) So we all saw Free Willy, right? The inspirational tale of a troubled young white kid who starts hanging out with an orca that lives in a sad, dirty park and the mysterious old tribal dude who trains him.

When Anya first saw that movie (as a small child), she was totally on board with the whole “abandoned kid living on the streets resists his foster parents until a spiritual connection with a whale helps him become a functioning human and connect with other people” thing. Not so on board with the part where said kid is cleaning graffiti from under the tank (why?!) and the fucking orca POPS UP OUT OF GODDAMN NOWHERE! It probably doesn’t even happen that way, but as a child she did NOT see that coming. To this day, she hates that noise of deep water that you hear in movies. You know that weird gurgle that always happens when submarines/marine life/etc. is submerged? Hates it. Can’t watch the beginning of Titanic, she hates it so much. Can’t deal with Flipper, Jaws, or anything that involves people diving. That part in Skyfall where they were under the ice? UGH.

Conducting the Google search for this picture was physically uncomfortable, that’s how much I hate it.
We’ll wrap it up with what is perhaps the most far fetched fear of all. We all watched The Magic School Bus, right? Remember that episode where Arnold’s stupid cousin comes with them and Ms. Frizzle takes everyone through the solar system and he takes off his helmet on Pluto and comes back with a bad head cold? That might have started this one. Anya is deeply horrified by outer space. This is possibly (probably) also stemming from that time she watched Armageddon in fifth grade and Bruce Willis fucking got left on that goddamn asteroid. No amount of Xenon: Girl of the 21st Century could assuage her concerns, and she has stated more than once that if the world gets into a Wall-E type situation, she will just stay on Earth with the landfills and the sad robot. Not fucking flying into outer space. Ever. Something about the idea that you could just float away...forever. And suffocate on your own air. People do not fucking belong up there!

Except no. Not impressed.
So we’ve both got some questionable hang ups, fine, great, moving on. What is probably worse and more telling than the things we are afraid of, is the things we aren’t afraid of.

We love the wacky people we call “those Victorians” in our best wistful/condescending voice. The Victorian era was a time of some truly terrifying shit, but we’re strangely okay with the vast majority of it. If you’re unfamiliar with trends in Victorian era photography, google that RIGHT NOW PLEASE. Maybe you’re sufficiently horrified by the fact that they made a habit of things like hiding mothers in the background under tapestries, taking pictures of dead people (especially kids), and playing around with exposure times to make themselves look headless. Aren’t they hilarious? We’re not even close to horrified enough.

Anya was spending some quality time browsing collections of these photographs and playing “which kid in this picture is dead?” while at the Libertarian’s house the other day:

Anya: Oh my GOD, they opened its eyes back up, how CRAZY!


Anya: Are you seeing this? How many candles are in this picture?? (counts 21) That coffin is going to catch on fire!


Anya: Seriously are both of these kids dead? I love this. Oh my god the headless ones! Look how funny they think they are! It’s like old timey memes! Look at this grouchy old lady holding her head under her own arm!

The Libertarian: I don’t know if I can look at the headless ones, it’s kind of making me sick.

Anya: Just a few more! Or you can go over there. Sorry!

Not fooling anyone wearing that, girlfriend

(If you’re interested in looking at the exact pictures this conversation was centered around, they’re here).

Alright, so we’re pretty down with all of those creepy pictures of stern looking women you see in horror movies. One thing we can’t handle from the Victorian era? Fucking hair wreaths. No joke, that shit is not ok.

You’ve already read about Anya’s unfortunate affection for feral animals, and you know Paul hates raccoons as much as she loves them. Some people might say she lacks a healthy fear of the various critters that wander the forest (or city) at night. You should have seen her cackling with fiendish delight at this scene from the hit television series, Bunheads:

You might be shuddering with horror when you see that opossum hissing at good old Sutton, but Anya was honest to god all “awwwwwwwww look how precious!” (which is also how we assume Spacey Secretary would react, speculating on whether or not Sutton had ham in her bed). It’s a problem. Especially a problem when you live someplace that they could be hanging out in your backyard at any given time. Especially when seeing them squished on the road makes you sincerely sad for the rest of your drive, and this occurs probably every three miles on the highway. That’s some misplaced motherfucking empathy.

We’ll leave you with this gem: while brainstorming for this post, Anya asked Paul to add anything to the lists of fears and should be fears that he thought was missing. Without even looking at the draft he immediately responded “things we should be afraid of but aren’t: dying alone”. Little did he know, the first and only thing Anya had added to that list was...dying alone.

Minds. Melding.


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