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The Latest in Phobias 


Monday, July 11, 2005

*Spoiler ahead: turn back now.*

Thanks to that new War of the Worlds movie, I have a dozen new fears to add to my personal inventory of irrational phobias.

Nobody told me that movie was actually scary. I was laughing along when suddenly, about halfway through, the aliens attacking mankind no longer had me rooting for them. They started vampirizing poor living humans and spraying their blood over the vein-plant gardens they had sown.

Now I don't mind deathrays. I aspire to as quick and relatively painless death as depicted in the first few minutes of the movie.

It's when you get stabbed in the back and you're still twitching while some tentacle thing sucks your blood that forbidden lines have been crossed.

Or when aliens stuff you in a cage with assymetrical bars, and a big red nipple periodically emits a tentacle to pull you in for a snackdown - the wait for that nipple to get hungry is unbearable. Weren't anal probes enough for them?

These sorts of deaths are all too...biological. Eating human flesh and drinking human blood - and when you watch a horror movie, the implication is that it could be your flesh and blood - is just too much.

At the part where the screamy little girl was in the basement with the creepy pedophile, I kept thinking, run, Tom, run - and take your daughter with you!.

Of course, the next scene of what was happening outside the basement was the vampire incident. Why the aliens began munching down on humans when they started off with deathrays, I never understood. It made it clear, though, that leaving the pedophile's shelter was worse.

Then there was the problem of the sky.

After the movie, the sky hadn't darkened yet. The clouds clenched together like grey sludge, kind of like the evil thunder clouds at the beginning of the movie. I drove home thinking that grandma was on my way if I was to save anyone from man-eating vampire aliens (and that her fridge always has better food than mine). I also swore to myself that I would start wearing sensible shoes. If the aliens strike, how am I supposed to run in high heels? During the whole drive home, I expected the clouds to attack at any moment.

That's four new phobias. One, aliens who drink blood; two, strange biological appendages on alien vehicles; three, weird clouds that spit out aforementioned aliens; and four, pedophiles who take advantage of alien armageddon.

Life was so much simpler when aliens did just one thing and did it well.

Why'd they have to go and get all talented at multitasking?

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