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Amanda M. Blake

~ Of fairy tales and tentacles

Amanda M. Blake

Monthly Archives: May 2019

Dead Ends

29 Wednesday May 2019

Posted by amandamblake in Music, Poetry

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Tags

ghosts, gothic, hitchhiker, horror, lyrics, not a poet, poem, songwriting, urban legend

horror crime death psychopath

Photo by Tookapic on Pexels.com

I tried to write a hitchhiker ghost song a while back, but it didn’t really work, and I had to put the idea back in the box for a while.

Last month, I tried writing one again, and this time it came together into something coherent.

I’m fascinated by ghost stories, because they’re so difficult to do well. Ghost poetry’s a little different – all about atmosphere. It’s so delightfully creepy and sad and sexy all at the same time. The hitchhiker ghost urban legend is one that’s stuck visually in my mind, so it was a pleasure to find an outlet. I’m quite happy with it.

DEAD ENDS

Black leather jacket and long white dress
Silk flutters like wind through the mist
Don’t have no home, don’t have no address
Picking up the girl with a tear and a kiss.

Sparkling eyes and pale blue lips
Can’t help but tear your gaze from the road
A corsage goes dry on another girl’s wrist
But whispers remind you that you’ll soon grow old

I offer you a moment
I offer you a chance
I know it’s not allowed, sir
But would you like to have this dance?

Chorus:
I wander a long and lonely highway
Can’t stay in one place, can’t linger in one town
Hitching rides without a destination
Legs are tired but feet never touch the ground
You’ll see me in the rearview mirror
But I’m not there when you turn around.
Ride with you until the moon descends
And I’ll be wandering until the road dead-ends.

Never had my moment in the sun
Cold gray steel and headlights stained with blood
Silk dress still white as winter for so long
I touch your hand, just looking for some love

Back seat steams, my skin’s as cold as ice
Ghosts from your lips as you bring your heat inside
Steal your breath to remember my own life
That someone like you stole in a car like the one you ride

I offered you a moment
In the dark you heard my voice
You know it’s not allowed, sir
But remember, you made the choice.

Chorus:
I wander a long and lonely highway
Can’t stay in one place, can’t linger in one town
Hitching rides without a destination
Legs are tired but feet never touch the ground
You’ll see me in the rearview mirror
But I’m never there when you turn around.
Ride with you until the moon descends
And I’ll be wandering until the road dead-ends.

Bridge:
They find your body in the back seat
Of your wayward hitcher car
Don’t you know not to pick up strangers?
You never know who they are
Now you’re cold as your ghostly lover
Your journey ends, but mine’s still so far
I’m still cold, your ghostly lover
God, why does it have to be so far?

[whisper] I want to feel alive

I offer you a moment
Die a little more each night
I know it’s not allowed, sir
But I don’t want to do what’s right.

Chorus:
I wander a long and lonely highway
Can’t stay in one place, can’t linger in one town
Hitching rides without a destination
Legs are tired but feet never touch the ground
You’ll see me in the rearview mirror
But I’m never there when you turn around.
Ride with you until the moon descends
And I’ll be wandering until the road dead-ends.

How to Love

14 Tuesday May 2019

Posted by amandamblake in Music, Poetry

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Tags

lyrics, sad, songwriting

aerial photography of pine trees

Photo by eberhard grossgasteiger on Pexels.com

This is the sad song I wrote. I just had a moment and didn’t want to feel it, so I wrote it instead. It’s just a soft little thing.

HOW TO LOVE

I don’t understand all the songs
I don’t understand the days they set aside to celebrate
I don’t understand the flowers, the cards, the doves
My heart doesn’t know how to love

I don’t enjoy the romance, the games
A rose would smell as sweet by any other name.
Don’t know that loneliness will ever be enough
But my heart doesn’t know how to love.

Wandering alone in the wilderness
No one ever at my side
And when the beasts come a-roaming
They tear my skin, but nothing’s underneath inside
No meat, no heart, a mannequin,
Nothing to hide with nothing inside.

The stars are just fire, the moon is just stone
And ice only wanders the cosmos alone
There’s never been any magic above
My heart doesn’t know how to love.

I don’t believe in miracles, flying off to heaven
But I walk the line with ghosts in my head
It’s not exactly what I was dreaming of
My heart doesn’t know how to love.

It’s not exactly what I was dreaming of
My heart doesn’t know how to love.

DOUBLE REVIEW: Cabin Fever/Cabin Fever remake

11 Saturday May 2019

Posted by amandamblake in Movie Reviews

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Tags

body horror, contagion, disease, eli roth, horror, movie review, remake

Cabin Fever 2002[SPOILER ALERT: There isn’t much, but there are a few later scenes referenced.]

I’m going to say it, and everyone is going to hate me.

The remake is better than the original.

Some of the shots are framed the exact same way, except flipped around. Some of the script is exactly the same. They didn’t even do anything new or reimagined with the remake. They literally remade the original CABIN FEVER. And it’s better.

Let me give you some context.

In college, I went a little horror-movie crazy (and I haven’t stopped). I bought all kinds of eighties slashers, cult classics, all the movies I’d wanted to see when I was too young or too high-strung for it. I’d been attracted by the cover for CABIN FEVER a number of times before I finally bought it, because it was a contagion movie, and that’s one of the things I’m legitimately afraid of in real life. When I watch ghost movies and supernatural villain movies, I can go to sleep afterward just fine because I don’t believe in ghosts or the supernatural (open-minded but skeptical). But diseases are real. They happen. And necrotizing fasciitis is a real, terrifying thing. So what a great premise for a horror movie, right?

Then I sit down to watch it.

The necrotizing fasciitis parts were suitably gory and effective. I think the opening credits are one of the best in the business. And that scene where the girl is shaving her legs and starts shaving off her legs is probably in my top twenty-five horror moments.

But that’s it. Those are the only good things I can say about the Eli Roth-directed CABIN FEVER. The man needs to stick with producing, because he’s decent at that. The whole film, though, from script to direction, just felt so…juvenile. The humor wasn’t funny. The weirdness didn’t have a point. And CABIN FEVER is filled with an unsympathetic cast of jerks. We root for precisely no one to survive–except maybe Winston, strangely enough.

A man is killed by a harmonica, and as a white girl in the suburbs, I literally can’t even.

It’s one thing to tell a story about juvenile people. It’s another for the director to be just as juvenile–you can feel it in all his immature choices. I can watch and even enjoy bad horror. I can enjoy campy horror. I can enjoy young people horror. But for Pete’s sake, I only enjoyed about three consecutive minutes of CABIN FEVER, and the rest was trash. I gave the movie away because I hated it so much.

About six months ago, all the CABIN FEVER movies were on Netflix at once, and I thought, Hey, I’m more tolerant of all kinds of horror these days. Maybe the original CABIN FEVER isn’t as bad as I thought it was. Maybe I’ve grown as a horror aficionado and can appreciate CABIN FEVER as the cult classic that it is. So I watched it again.

I still hate it. Totally my opinion. I feel like it was made by an emotionally stunted manchild for other emotionally stunted manchildren, and I have no place in its audience. So maybe it’s just not meant for me, although I seem to enjoy other horror movies obviously made for male audiences (the PIRANHA remake and THE BABYSITTER come to mind).

Seriously, when I get more out of the spectacularly gross, misogynistic, shallow CABIN FEVER: SPRING FEVER (yay, Marc Senter) and CABIN FEVER: PATIENT ZERO (yay, Currie Graham and Sean Astin) than the original movie, maybe the problem isn’t me?

cabin-fever-poster remakeEnter the remake–taking a good concept and bad execution and trying to execute it better.

The characters are still juvenile, but they aren’t as unlikable as the first set. They’re not completely lacking in redeemable qualities. When they make bad decisions, you get why they make them. Even when the least likeable of the group starts to show symptoms, I felt bad for him, because it’s a horrible way to die–unlike Jason, it’s not a villain you can outrun. It’s something that’s already inside of you, and it’s too fast-acting to treat even if they get to a hospital. The rash and the blood are more realistic. The claustrophobia is more intense. It’s as though a grown-ass man took Eli Roth’s original movie and shot it like a grown-ass director would. It’s a more mature film in every way.

The only real misstep they might have made was recasting Winston as a scarred Barbie doll whose obsession with partying seemed more creepy-coy than the original sex, drugs, rock-and-roll simple Winston. It was an interesting direction, but I’m not sure whether it worked with the more coherent tone of the rest of the movie. Sometimes I like it and sometimes I don’t.

My favorite bit of irony about this movie (both of them) was that it turned some of the slasher tropes on their head–probably why it’s a cult classic. In the old eighties slashers, sex, drugs, and drinking would have gotten them killed. But in CABIN FEVER, it’s drinking water instead of beer that gets them sick. It’s eating off of dishes cleaned with the bad water that gets them sick instead of being a dirty slob. Being bad doesn’t get you killed. The villain’s in the safe places, and there’s no saving you after that. I feel they play that up more in the remake.

Even if it’s not necessarily the best horror movie ever, I’d go so far as to call the remake a decent horror film, and I enjoy rewatching it when I need another dose of contagion fear and rereading The Stand just seems like it’ll take too long.

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