Terror Tuesday: False Faces

Back with another Terror Tuesday. Time to get your goblin on.

Screened: Trick o’ Treat. Now available on DVD this is a movie comprised of four interwoven (sometimes interestingly, sometimes annoyingly) tales of the macabre, all of which take place, not surprisingly, on All Hallows Eve. One tale I didn’t care for concerns the carving up of the naughty neighborhood fat kid, while another was sort of a “Halloween Carol” involving a nasty old guy who learns he better get his grumpy old ass to Walmart to buy candy when little demons come a’callin’. Another involved sexy topless women who aren’t all they seem, so that’s always good. All in all, fun for Halloween night, but nothing to, er, scream about.

How many of you think False Face is a bad villain in a plastic mask on the old ‘60s Batman TV series? C’mon, admit it, we watched it, if only for Yvonne Craig and Julie Newmar lusciously poured into the Batgirl or Catwoman body suits.

But the False Face I’m referring to was more than that and had nothing to do with Batman. He came from the False Face Society, an Iroquois medicine society named for the wooden face masks they used in healing rituals. The masks were believed to be animated by spirits and treated as sacred objects, and as such rarely displayed in public.

Members of the Society—one of the best-known Native American societies—consist of people who have been cured by the ritual. Most were men and though some cured women are allowed to join they are not permitted to perform healing rituals and rarely wear the mask. Their role is relegated largely to cooking, sort of like Sunday Football practices in some families.

The Seneca, an Iroquois tribe, are responsible for the ritual’s cosmology. Legend has it, The Great Defender, a giant with a hideous face and a disease-causing whirlwind, loves to wander the earth, causing a stir as proclaimed by The Good Mind, his superior in power. The Defender was ordered to abandon his evil nature and dedicate himself to benefiting mankind, who were about to be created. Or course, The Defender wants some bribes; namely, tobacco, a pleasing song and his likeness captured from the wood of trees (and was apparently too dumb to hold out for a handful of maidens or some such). Then his “orenda”, or supernatural force will be able to enter the likeness and cause men’s diseases to depart. I guess even a Big Bad can reform once he gets his ass kicked by The Good Mind.

In the rituals, society members don the hideous masks to symbolize supernatural beings. The male masks are absent ears and members carry tortoise shell rattles and offer tobacco. They also throw ashes onto sick folks after crawling into their houses. Oh, yeah, that’ll work.

Of course, there are no stats on how many were actually cured and of what, but I’m guessing the heal rate isn’t particularly high—assuming the one sick didn’t die of heart failure the minute a half-naked Indian in an ugly face came creeping into their house.

I’m sure psychosomatic afflictions occasionally responded to having the hell scared out of their sufferer, but overall I’m going for the Echinacea. Or a pole dancer…wearing a False Face mask…

The Chloe Files: Kicking Evil’s ass one demon at a time…
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Haunted November: Bloody Hell…

Did anyone see the new Discovery Channel documentary on Jack the Ripper the other night? The investigator tracked a man named James Kelly from the Whitechapel murders to various ripper crimes occurring across the US in the years following the Ripper’s sudden disappearance after his “last” atrocious killing, and presented some very compelling and convincing evidence using modern forensics, old manifests and computer facial deconstruction tools. Whether one accepts his conclusions that this man was, indeed, Red Jack, or needs more or countering evidence, it was a fascinating program, if gruesome.

I’ve always found Stigmata a fascinating phenomenon, despite the boring movie of the same name. For those who aren’t familiar with the term, Stigmata is the spontaneous discharge of blood usually from invisible wounds on the body. Those wounds normally occur in areas representing those suffered by Christ on the cross, though there have been cases reported of blood flowing from the eyes. Predominantly, the stigmatics are Catholic, and whether this has something to do with the fact most Protestant faiths do not have the religious effigies or crucifixes as Catholicism may be significant.

The first recorded stigmatic was, in fact, St. Francis of Assisi, who bled from the palms and feet after an extended fast while meditating on the crucifixion.

The actual number of stigmatics is not known, though at least 320 cases have been documented, bleeding as little as a half-pint, or as much as a pint and a half.

Oddly, the placement of the wounds corresponds to those of the individual’s familiarity with a particular crucifix or statue representation of Christ.

In the early stage, blood appears to discharge through the skin and when wiped away no wound is seen. However, some advanced stigmatics show evidence of actual wounds, or in more remarkable cases even a hard flesh-covered lump that appears to be the head of a nail protruding from the wound. Many times these bleedings are associated with some particular religious holiday and most who experience the phenomenon are deeply devout. The appearance of the wounds generally corresponds with meditation.

So what’s going on here? Is this truly a manifestation of some Holy Spirit or does the answer lie hidden deep within the subconscious mind of the stigmatic?

Most telling might be the individual’s perception of Christ’s wounds. Those who are familiar with representations showing the nails driven through Christ’s hands bleed from the hands, while those familiar with the nails in the wrists exude through that spot. It’s probably common knowledge these days crucifixion nails were pounded through the wrists because those driven through the hands would not have supported the victim’s body weight and would have torn through. If this were truly a holy experience, logic (and applying logic to matters of faith is not always prudent nor practical, though it is my personal belief a supreme power would work within the bounds—known or unknown—of physics It constructed) would seem to dictate all wounds would be the same and therefore an actual representation of Christ’s wounds, whether those wounds match our artistic perceptions and interpretations.

The second telling point is the meditative state, or spontaneously altered state of consciousness all humans are capable of in varying degrees. Some people can reach these states easily and deeply and not even be aware of it. It’s also a scientific fact that while in deep hypnosis people can halt or alter bleeding in surgery or dentistry. It should come as little surprise or leap, then, that we could unconsciously produce bleeding. Studies have also shown that while in hypnosis the mind can spontaneously produce warts or hard bumps in the flesh—so the nail phenomenon is easily explained.

In all likelihood, stigmata is self-induced, albeit unconsciously. Often it comes in times of great personal stress. The mind is an incredible organ, and frequently an incomprehensible one. For me, stigmata is all too easily explained and localized to be attributed to Holy influence. And I personally don’t believe a Holy Spirit is going to work by scaring the living hell out of Its believers—I mean, that’s contrary to the whole point, isn’t it?

The Chloe Files: Kicking Evil’s ass one demon at a time…
In paperback.

Haunted November: I’ve Looked at Clouds…

First a couple items: Ghost Whisperer continues to improve over the past few weeks. Really liked the Headless Horseman nod for Halloween, but I still find myself hoping the cheesy little kid gets eaten by the shinies. Oh, yeah, booo, I know. But he just adds nothing to the show at this point except Melinda’s over the top gushing looks and a decided lack of her running around in sexy lingerie. Priorities, people!

On the other hand, I checked out Ghost Hunters Academy last week. I am a fan of the Ghost Hunters show but this new one is, in a word—lame. Maybe it’s because the dweebs they selected for the academy are as unskilled and uninteresting as you can get, or because the manufactured “drama”, especially from one girl, comes over as just plain silly. I’m not sure. I do know the addition of two “sensitives” really detracts from the legitimacy of true ghost hunting—which is not to prove the existence of psychics, but of ghosts in a non-biased, scientifically provable aspect. I won’t even be giving this one a second try. I liked none of the people involved, except for Steve and Tango, GH regulars, but even they can’t save this dreadful lot. On the other hand the regular GH episode had an extremely interesting chain incident last week. Now THAT I would like to see more on.

Did you know there are actually folks who claim, through a feat of psychokinesis, they can make clouds dissolve? I didn’t. There’s even a term for it. It’s called, appropriately enough, “cloud dissolving” or “cloud bursting”.

Considering the wet, dreary—and chilly—summer we had here in Southern Maine, I find myself more than a little skeptical such a thing is possible. If it were, I think there’d be perfect weather all the time, except in places with droughts, where rain is needed.

Of course, there’s the other side of the coin. Indian shamans have long believed in scared dances that bring about the formation of clouds and subsequent rain. In all fairness, I have noticed a definite increase in moisture every time Shakira shakes her hips—but that’s probably just me sweating profusely.

Certainly we’ve all stared at the clouds on lazy summer days and imagined dragons or various animals, even giant faces, or in my case certain parts of Jennifer Love Hewitt’s anatomy (and I must admit THAT was certainly a spiritual experience, lemme tell you).

But forming clouds with the mind? Dissolving them? Making it rain and controlling the weather?

I don’t think so. There’s certainly no empirical evidence to back up such claims. It’s difficult enough trying to quantify PK in the lab. But clouds are ever-shifting, at the whim of the wind, not the mind.

The Chloe Files: Kicking Evil’s ass one demon at a time…In paperback

Doc Savage Returns…Sorta…

Yesterday the first of DC Comics’ New Wave series came out, a crossover book starring Batman (the gun-toting Batman of the early ‘40s) and the legendary Man of Bronze, Doc Savage. Given as the writer, Brian Azzarello, was one I had never warmed up to, I didn’t expect much from the book…so I guess you could say I wasn’t disappointed. I, and Doc fans—and there are more of them than the callous comments of the writer indicated in an online interview he did—didn’t get much.

The cover artwork was pretty damn good, but the interior artwork was basically passable and in one case one character resembles Doc enough to be mistaken for him in a few panels. Doc was portrayed with lighter hair instead of the darker bronze stated in 182 original novels (give or take a couple misstatements by ghost writers). But that’s quibbling.

The weakness comes mostly with the lackluster story, or lack of story, and out-of-character Doc Savage. While this does take place on an alternate earth, and I guess that’s the excuse, Doc Savage, despite being an open good-doer, was still a private person, not the party-going, gregarious holier-than-thou Azzarello paints him to be. The use of “heh” and “Huh” too often for all characters was especially annoying after a short time and Doc’s open talking about the loss of his father to Batman just didn’t jibe with the pulp character.

Still it could have been worse and I tentatively have to recommend Doc fans pick it up and give it a try themselves. It’s far better than what DC did to Doc, The Shadow and The Avenger in the 80s.

What does scare me, however, is the brief bio in the back of the magazine for another pulp character I am especially fond of, The Avenger. Azzarello’s understanding of the character is dead wrong. I was looking forward to seeing Richard Henry Benson in comic format again, but now…I’m worried. However, I would recommend you keep your eye on Moonstone Books (www.moonstonebooks.com) for the “real” Richard Henry Benson, who will be returning in two all new prose anthologies in 2010, edited by Joe Gentile, a genuine Avenger lover, and yours truly. Joe is working on lining up some special things for the books as well. And pick up the first anthology, The Avenger Chronicles, for some great reading. While you're at it, grab a copy of my complete history of The Avenger,The Gray Nemesis.

Haunted November: Being Bi…

How many times have you wished you could be in two locations at the same time? Well, apparently some mystics, monks and other holy folks contend they have the ability to do just that. It’s called “Bilocation.” Talk about multi-tasking. Reckon Microsoft could learn a thing or two from them.

Bilocation is simply the appearance of an individual in two distinct places at once. Prevailing theory suggests that this doppelganger is a projection, or type of out of body experience.

Instances of bilocation are rare but it is an ancient phenomenon. Mystics claim it can be practiced at will and if the bilocation occurs spontaneously it can bode the impending death of the individual.

Scant credibility or study is afforded to the phenomenon these days, but probably the most famous case occurred in Italy in the year 1774 when St. Alphonsus Maria d’Ligouri was spotted at the bedside of dying Pope Clement XIV, despite the fact that the saint was confined to a cell at least a four-day ride away.

Often these doppelgangers are reported to act stiff or robotic, and do not converse with witnesses. Honestly, how rude of them.

Are they real? Can a person project a spirit double and sent it traipsing to distant places? Is it the “soul” or some sort of mind construct?

Well, obviously proving it definitively one way or the other is problematic. I certainly can’t create a double of myself and send it where I want it to go, though I have met others who claim they can, though they are peculiarly either ignorant of the details when questioned, or the opposite, obviously fantasy-prone types. I have doubts about the phenomenon. If it were possible, I’m pretty sure I would have found a way to project myself into Jessica Alba’s shower by now. Until that day (or the day she projects herself into mine!) I remain highly skeptical.

Has anyone reading this ever experienced an out of body romp? I’d be interested in hearing your view on the subject or about your experiences. And if you’re Jessica Alba, these are my shower coordinates…

The Chloe Files: Kicking Evil’s ass one demon at a time…
In paperback.

Western Wednesday: Grab Yer Phaser, Pardner...

I’ve talked a few times about blending other genres with the Western; namely, horror. Horror goes well with westerns for there is a long-standing tradition of ghost stories told ‘round the campfire.

But another genre blends especially well with the Western, and that is Science Fiction. It’s been said that Science Fiction is nothing more than cowboys and Indians in outer space and to a degree that’s spot on. One can draw many parallels with hard or fantasy driven Science Fiction. Star Trek might just as easily be placed in the Old West; simply substitute aliens with Indians and Captain Kirk with Kirk Custer. Science Fiction explores new frontiers, breaks new ground and chronicles the hardships of striking out into territories unknown. As does the Western. If anyone saw the Serenity movie a couple years back (based on the TV series Firefly), that was little more than a western set in space.

While there are many parallels between the two genres in terms of action and exploration, some shows blend them together exceptionally well. Two of my favorites are The Wild Wild West and The Adventures of Brisco County, Jr.

The Wild Wild West ran for four seasons in the mid-sixties and starred Robert Conrad (dude, how did you get into those pants and without neutering yourself?) and Ross Martin as Secret Service Agents James West and Artemis Gordon. Though strongly grounded in the Western USA during the Grant administration, the show commonly melded science fiction elements into its storylines and did it well. One show even dealt with supposed flying saucers and aliens from space. The entire series is available on DVD. The first season was black and white and probably more Western oriented, so start with the second for a more Science Fiction flavor.

The Adventures of Brisco County, Jr. starred cult horror actor Bruce Campbell and the exquisite Kelly Rutherford and ran for only a season and 27 episodes in the early 1990s. During his hunt for the John Bly Gang who killed his father, Brisco runs across such things as a mysterious orb and time travel. One episode even featured a sheriff patterned after a certain king of rock and roll, thank you very much. The show often blended tongue-in-cheek humor with drama as well as Adventure and Western themes. In one episode, the smarmy little bandit Pete (don’t touch Pete’s piece!) was killed by a Chinese throwing star only to appear fully healthy in a later episode. When asked how, he says something to the effect of “funny thing about Chinese stars, an hour later you’re alive again…” It’s a pity the show was not renewed but I highly recommend picking up the set on DVD.

Any other favorite blendings of science fiction and western? Let me know yours.

Terror Tuesday: Sea Serpents

It’s Terror Tuesday time here again on Dark Bits. Time to grab your goblin and…ah, nevermind. Grabbing your goblin is never good. In public, I mean.

Screened: Village of the Damned. Hadn’t seen this since I was a kid but it’s still a creepy little movie. Little blond kids scare me anyway. This is the original 1960 film, not the remake, which I have not seen.

Ghost Whisperer has been improving this season, after the first disjointed episode. Well, Jennifer Love Hewitt was a pole dancer in the most recent show, so for me that’s a definite improvement. But now that they have that whole Jim fiasco out of the way the shows have been better. Now to get rid of that annoying kid…maybe we should send him to the Village…

I’ve always found sea serpents and lake monsters particularly fascinating. Like werewolves, they’re played a part in a number of favorite episodes of shows I used to watch as a kid. My all-time favorite episode of The Wild Wild West is still "Night of the Kraken", in which a giant squidy terrorizes a seaport. Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea contained a number of episodes—and rightly so, since it was a sea series—dealing with sea monsters. Ok, not-so-scary big rubber sea beasties, but as a kid I still peed my pants. Then, of course, there was the infamous Sigmund and the Sea Monsters. I think they eventually ate the kid from Family Affair, which is pretty frightening when you stop to think about it.

Of course, sea monsters are not simply the domain of fiction and television fantasy. They’ve been spotted in oceans and lakes as long as sailors have taken to the water and Inns have needed tourists. The most famous of these beasts is, of course, Nessie, the Loch Ness Monster, but huge, snake- and dinosaur-like creatures have been sighted from Canada and the USA to Japan and everywhere between.

Are these creatures real or figments of over-active imaginations? The product of evolution or imbibing in too much liquid fermentation? Cryptozoological or unknown species of reptiles or fish?

It may be a mix of all of the above. Some lakes, such as Loch Ness, are sealed off from the sea (unless some connecting lake cave is discovered) and though large by lake standards are unlikely to contain the ecological food chain necessary to support a creature such as an extinct plesiosaur. A monster would likely starve, let alone the passel of them required to produce centuries of offspring. Bad news for Nessie most likely, but it probably won’t affect the sale of plastic dino souvenirs anytime soon.

The problem becomes much worse in smaller lakes with supposed monsters, such as Ogopogo in Canada.

But an ocean or a large lake with ocean outlets? That’s another story. Everyday species long thought extinct are discovered alive and rarin’ to swallow in the briny depths. The most well-known of these is the coelacanth, an ugly son of a bitch by any fish standards. But ancient and still in existence. It’s not at all inconceivable some dino or unknown serpent of the deep might still be haunting the seven seas, occasionally surfacing to chomp on a sailor or two. And I’m still not willing to rule out lake monsters, so watch where you go skinny dipping. Being munched is not way to verify the existence of lake monsters. We’ll leave that to the folks at Gortons…

Have any of you ever seen a lake of sea creature?

The Chloe Files: Kicking Evil’s ass one demon at a time…
In paperback.

Western Wednesday: The West Rides Again

It’s another Western Wednesday here on Dark Bits—Do you know where your horse is?

There’s no doubt the Western is on the trail to a comeback. I hope a major comeback. The Western Writers of America, in a recent issue of their superb member magazine, Roundup, cited the increase in percentage of Westerns being published over the past few years. In comic books, The Lone Ranger, Zorro, and Jonah Hex as well as others have brought the genre successfully back to four-color panel format. Jonah Hex and The Lone Ranger will soon be big screen movies, the former starring Josh Brolin (Hickok on The Young Riders) and the latter starring Johnny Depp as Tonto.

Across the pond, Robert Hale has increased print runs on a number of titles to meet a surge in demand, largely spearheaded by Welsh actor/writer Gary Dobbs’ (writing as Jack Martin) smashing of the company’s initial print run ceiling to become likely the best-selling Black Horse Western ever. My own Lance Howard January release, Coyote Deadly, sold out weeks in advance of publication and I believe New Zealand author Chap O’Keefe’s most recent Misfit Lil adventure did the same and immediately went to a second printing. Book Depository, a British company that offers free worldwide postage, sells out of Black Horse Westerns and the Thorpe/Ulverscroft large print paperback reprints of Hale’s titles nearly the moment they list. My recent paperback Lance Howard Western, Blood Creek, sold out within days.

So why now? Why the Western, especially Black Horse titles with their blending of traditional horse opera and boundary-pushing storylines?

Some of the renaissance of course is due to the upsurge in Western blog posts and awareness raising campaigns of the Yahoogroups Black Horse Western group’s projects, such as their acclaimed Where Legends Ride short story anthologies, their Black Horse Express online magazine (http://www.blackhorsewesterns.org/) with its Black Horse Author Days (inaugurated by writer Joanne Walpole) summaries and excellent news and articles. Blogs such as this one, Gary’s Tainted Archive (to which a huge amount of credit is due), Ian Parham’s Black Horse Western blog (Ian writes under the name IJ Parham), as well as a number of other Black Horse Writers’ blogs, have all kept the campfire burning.

Another part of the Western’s resurgence, in my opinion, has to do with the need for hope and heroes in these troubled times. The men and women who forged the West (even our more mythical Wild West) were strong, persevering, and faced down the odds, no matter how incredible. While history may have sanitized some aspects of the westward movement and its leaders, one thing can be accepted with certainty: these men and women were, without doubt, heroes. Flawed, perhaps, but human, and heroes nonetheless.

The Westerns we read through Black Horse are largely tales of the mythical West, yet still hold enough respect and reverence for the trials and truths of early settlers and cowboys and cowgirls as to make them not only one hell of an escape read, but a reassertion of spirit, of hope, of the glowing sunset at the end of the trail. They survived. And so can we, no matter the odds, no matter the bleakness of situation.

We need heroes. Superheroes and cowboys. If you haven’t read westerns, I encourage you to do so. Hale is now making new releases available through Amazon, AmazonUK and Book Depository. Check out the mentioned blogs and online magazines for excerpts and reviews. I’m sure you’ll find a horse to your liking. While you’re at it, mosey on over to my western page for more (www.howardhopkins.com/western-books.htm).

But most of all, give Westerns of try. Channel your inner cowboy or cowgirl. It’s time to saddle up and ride, pard…

Terror Tuesday: Haunted November?

I’ve decided I haven’t had enough of Halloween and Horror Month. I’m not big on Thanksgiving—though at least we’ve got a Charlie Brown Turkey Day special, thank goodness—so I am dubbing this month Haunted November here on Dark Bits. Any horror writers, supernatural enthusiasts or folks who’ve experienced any sort of paranormal activity are invited to write a guest blog.

November is a month I’ve never much liked. It’s the Dead Month. The bright October days of color-splashed leaves give way often to gloomy chilly days here in Maine. Trees lose the rest of their leaves, now brown, and appear skeletal, while nights fall an hour earlier and the Boys of Summer pack up until April. It’s the dusk between golden October and the glittering multicolored night lights of December. A time for hauntings.

Certain months remind me of certain colors. October is orange, of course; January is white or black, depending on your attitude towards it; February is red; March, green. April is a pastel pallet; May, glowing yellow with maybe a hint of pink; June, lilac; July, blue; August lush turquoise sprinkled with crystal; September, amber. But November…November feels gray to me. Just…gray. The gray of old tombstones in an abandoned cemetery.

It does not surprise me people tend to become more depressed during this month. Shorter days, looming festivities, which is either a blessing or dread, depending on one’s outlook and financial or familial situation, affect the brain’s happy chemicals. And let’s face it, Thanksgiving is nothing to dance a jig over. It was always Christmas’s retarded step-son, or at best a stepping stone to the holiday.

So November needs a little sprucing up. Or Spooking up. There’s gotta be some spirits left wandering around from Halloween, at least the ghost of a Pilgrim or Indian. Anyone have a haunted Thanksgiving tale?

Maybe the Terrible Legend of The Gobbler Ghoul needs to be told. You just know there’s just gotta be some headless turkeys seeking revenge. As a matter of fact, I think I just spotted a mysterious feathered—

Gobble.

Gobble, gobble…

The Chloe Files: Kicking Evil’s ass one demon at a time…
In paperback.

Horror Month: The Halloween Party’s Over

As they say on It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, “Well, another Halloween has come and gone,” and Horror Month here on Dark Bits comes to an end. And while I don’t sit freezing my ass off for nothing in a sincere pumpkin patch all night like poor Linus, I always feel a bit melancholic the morning after Halloween. And suffering from Peanut Butter Cup hangover and a raw tongue from too many salted roasted pumpkin seeds.

Last night the weather here in southern Maine was perfect, warmer than normal with a blustery breeze that kicked up swirling masses of fallen leaves as I took my niece (who was dressed as Jeannie from I Dream of Jeannie) trick or treating through the neighborhood. The moon was nearly full, and wispy claw clouds occasionally scratched across its face. The scent of the leaves filled the air and a couple folks in the neighbor hood went all out with the spooky lights and displays. Fewer people were out, despite it being Saturday, but there were a ton at the firehouse up the street, where we went after trick or treating. Each year the firehouse puts on a party for the kids with free pizza, chips, drinks and entertainment such as magic shows, bounce house and a tent filled with glowing pumpkins where an old witch tells ghost stories.

Like Christmas, it’s a great build up but over with far too quickly. November here always seems kind of gloomy in the wake of those bright October days. I know how Charlie Brown and Linus feel at the end of the show when they sit there at the wall, mulling over the previous night. It’s bitter-sweet.

But like Linus, we should look at Halloween through the eyes of a child, with expectation of the next, with the promise that the Great Pumpkin will rise out of the pumpkin patch again and fill our lives with magic and mystery. And with fond memories of those Halloweens past, when for at least a few hours we can be a kid again and embrace the shivers that run down our spines and the spooky fun that leaves a golden glow in our hearts.

The Chloe Files: Kicking Evil’s ass one demon at a time…
In paperback.