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#The United States of Horror
cinemaslife · 2 months
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#36 Los Estados Unidos del Terror: Capítulo 1
Se trata de varias historias típicas de los Estados Unidos, que han salido de leyendas urbanas para crear una hora y media largas de un picadillo de historias de serie B en las que no se ahonda en nada, algunas te dejan con ganas de más, pero otras simplemente no aportan nada.
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Sigue una especie de mapa donde por cada estado te cuentan una historia (supongo que típica de allí) se trata de la clase de historias que nos enseñó El Club de Medianoche que se cuentan alrededor de una hoguera en una especie de Halloween desventado.
Inicialmente, parecía que iba a aportar mucho más de lo que da, pero son escenas de gore barato, con historias sin acabar que pueden significar lo que tú quieras y que dejan más incógnitas que dudas resueltas.
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Ojalá se hubiera parecido a algo como el Horror map de las películas donde en cada uno de los estados se sucede una historia de terror completa, con personajes profundos, e historias complejas. Casi merece la pena que en lugar de contar tantas historias rápidas hubieran dedicado más tiempo a menos historias para ampliarlas.
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SUMMARY: After losing his parents, a priest travels to China, where he inherits a mysterious ability that allows him to turn into a dinosaur. At first horrified by this new power, a hooker convinces him to use it to fight crime. And ninjas.
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Ghostbusters (1984, Ivan Reitman)
10/04/2024
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jemmachine · 9 months
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i turned on the news and it said that i was the most wanted person in the united states
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lololollywrites · 1 month
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STEWING in anger today. My younger sister - she's 33 - was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis (MS) 16 months ago, which obviously has been devastating. She is no longer able to work as a nurse, which has been a huge adjustment mentally for her (she LOVED her job in post-labor maternal care). She and her husband had only recently bought a house, but now they can barely pay their bills; he has to work extra hours, and she's home with both of my nieces, one of whom (at 8 years old) has severe behavioral issues stemming from ADHD and OCD. They've already had to file for bankruptcy. She's a wonderful mother, but the stress of it all certainly doesn't help her MS symptoms, and it all piles up (she isn't always physically able to clean the house, etc.). I live about five hours from her and come down when I can to help, but I can't do that as often as I'd like.
She's been hospitalized five times in the past year (unable to walk, with spasms and pain) and received planned infusions even more often, though has thus far only received steroid treatments because HER INSURANCE COMPANY DIDN'T COVER THE INITIAL MEDICATION SUGGESTED BY HER NEUROLOGIST, then REFUSED TO COVER THE SECOND RECOMMENDATION (after the first one was ineffective) despite it being the one they argued should have been chosen in the first place. That's meant she's only had treatment to **manage** her symptoms rather than **treat** them. For over a year. FOR A PROGRESSIVE DISEASE. After more than five years of being misdiagnosed with POTS despite clearly having more going on (and a doctor's office "misplacing" an MRI from years ago that could have showed early signs). Fortunately, she recently got approval from her insurance and will begin treatments next month that will hopefully help.
But this post isn't even about that. This post is about the fact that, as she can no longer work (and briefly tried another desk job at the hospital that was also impossible due to her MS brain fog), she applied for disability. 15 MONTHS AGO. They've made her jump through SO MANY HOOPS - so much paperwork and waiting with no updates that she's been in tears more than once. My mother even contacted her state's Congress representative, who's reached out directly to the disability office to inquire as to why it's all taking so long. Without disability, she and her husband will barely be able to cover their bills, let alone save to repair the many things that need repaired in their new home or to support their children. Or even to just, you know, take a vacation for the first time in ten years to ensure their marriage is salvaged. We started a GoFundMe at the beginning, right after she was diagnosed, which was wonderful, but she doesn't want to do that again now; it feels like begging to her.
Yesterday, her disability request was denied. Who the hell knows why. It was just an instant updated status; we don't yet have the letter. She's devastated, as are all of us. It just seems incomprehensible, though apparently up to 77% of disability applicants are denied in the hope that no one appeals (about 50% do). She now has to get a lawyer and fight for what she deserves. More stress (making her symptoms worse) and more money. And more waiting.
This whole experience has just further radicalized me. I have no idea what to do. I'm just SO ANGRY.
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Florida says no to the Rocky Horror Picture Show.
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acepumpkinpatrick · 4 months
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Yesterday I was talking to my partner about the recent news and everything that I have seen and it was just as I was narrating the events that are going that I realized how fucking crazy it all is.
I have been following everything so closely for the past 3 months that is just became the norm but when I was saying out loud to someone else, that it felt like I was reading out of a fucking novel!
Do you realize how crazy it is to say that 190 nations can't stop TWO countries of committing Genocide?!!!
Do you realize how crazy it is to say that only ONE starving country (Yemen ♡) is carrying the burden of trying to stop that Genocide???!!!
Do you realize how crazy it to see Israel do an assassination operation on a top military and political personal the same way the US did 4 years ago ON THE SAME DATE???
And I'm not even mentioning any of the horrors!!
No apocalyptic horror movie in existence will even come close to the real life horror of what's going on in Gaza.
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thewarmestplacetohide · 6 months
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The Man Who Laughs (1928) dir. Paul Leni
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midwestern gothic
It's snowing again. It snowed yesterday. It snowed the day before. It's supposed to snow tomorrow. The weather man's hair is gray. He says that it has always been February. You must have counted the days wrong. Your calendar says it's June.
The basement of the Catholic church has a Stephen King book on the lending shelf. It's a beaten up copy, and some old church lady has gone through and blacked out parts in thick sharpie. There are pages with only one word visible. The pages are yellow. The name in the cover is accompanied with a funeral card. "Rest in peace" it reads. You do not think that someone who took Stephen King's most offensive scenes to the grave with her will be able to rest peacefully.
The basement of the Lutheran church smells like coffee. "It smells like coffee," your uncle says, "Church basement coffee." "I know," you say, because you're in the church basement. "It smells like death." He smiles at you, and raises his styrofoam cup towards you. The coffee smells stronger on his breath.
Jerry's is never open past ten on the weekends. One time, driving past at midnight on Saturday, the windows were full of light. There were no cars in the parking lot. You are struck with the memory of all the taxidermied animals on the walls.
"That's how we made it in the great depression," you say, when your friend asks why you made such a brown looking food. "We're not in the great depression now," they answer, as though they can't see the eyes of your dead great grandmother in the window, looking at you with a friendly and menacing look, "Why do you make it like that?"
The sun is hot. The sun is burning. Your skin is cooking, your flesh is sizzling. You were not made for these temperatures. The world took too long in training you to survive the cold. It never taught you how to brave the heat. You set foot on the sand. You feel your skin begin to melt. You run.
The last berry is sitting in the bowl. No one will touch it. No one will look at it. It is invisible to every eye. Your littlest sister reaches for it. You slap her hand like she's reaching for a hot coal. That berry does not exist. No one will touch it. No one will look at it. It is invisible.
You're sitting on the boat in the sunshine. The water laps lazily against the side. You look down into the water, and you see a shark. You pull back, staring up at the clear blue sky. You look down towards the water again. There are no teeth. The shark is gone. It's a freshwater lake.
There are twinkies in the glove box of your car. There is a shovel in the trunk. There is an ice scraper in the pocket of the door. There is a pair of thick, warm mittens in your bag. They have been there since winter. It's October.
Your grandfather is telling you about the fish he caught in his ice house. No one was around to see it, and he threw it back. It sounds like the shark you saw last summer. Everyone laughs. You do too.
You go out to visit the ice house. The sun is starting to set. You'll have to drive back in your grandfather's truck. It's been on the ice all day. You open the door, and the black and white fish-camera screen shows you the relics of frozen plants, and a northern swims right by the camera. It's tail swooshes. It has an almost human look in its eye. You think it knows who you are. It probably wants to eat you.
Hockey is on in the background. Your grandmother is drinking a beer. She's talking about her parents. They have been dead for 20 years. She's cursing about them. She shouldn't speak ill of the dead. No one tells her to stop. You don't want to listen. You sit there. The only alternative is to watch the hockey game.
There are forty-five dear in your front yard. They see you. Their glowing eyes blink in the darkness. They stare. You shake your fist at them through the glass of your window. Their eyes glow red. Something horrifying lives within them. You don't want to know what it is. There are forty five deer. They continue to eat your flower garden.
You do not smile for three days. You make seven people cry uncontrollably in front of you. The other three you interact with call you names behind your back. Your parents give you a talking to about your attitude. The lady at church tells you, "Some of us have been thinking about how we need to maintain a really welcoming and upbeat attitude for newcomers to our parish! Being rude and impolite really won't attract anyone to our parish, and I have seen some people just be generally downhearted when they come to church. It's an issue. I think I'll go bring it up with the pastor. He'll get it out to everyone." You plaster a smile on your face. No one says anything. You're supposed to be polite.
It takes you seven hours to get to your grandma's house. There are no hills for the entire drive. In the winter, the stretch of highway is the only thing that keeps you sane. People went mad on prairies like this, your mom says, to a car full of quiet people. Nothing but the sky and the grass and the wind and their one-room houses. You believe her. You can see the images of buildings on the horizon, always the same distance away.
There is a cemetery in the center of a farmer's field. A church used to be there, someone once said to you. They tore it down, but kept the cemetery. You wonder why they have respect for creation but not the creator. You wonder what made them tear the church down. You wonder if anyone visits. You drive past that lonely cemetery at night. You think you see someone staring at you from behind the chicken-wire fence. You look away.
There is a sign on the side of the highway, written in ominous letters. It comes into focus as you drive by. Best place to buy knitting supplies in the whole state! You don't believe them. You see the sign five more times. Then they get worse. Come to our store. We need you at our store. We know who you are. We have yarn for you. We know where you live. Each one gets more threatening. Stop at our store. The last one reads, and so you pull over at the correct intersection. You buy five bags of yarn. The lady behind the desk is smiling. You smile back. You cannot feel your lips.
All the kids at school hate you. You'll never tell them. They cannot know.
The Kwik Trip has a nasty bathroom. Theirs are usually so clean. You feel sick. You walk out and tell your mom you need to go to the identical gas station across the street. Her eyes flash. She buys her soda, and you drive across the road. The gas station is identical in every way. The displays are the same. The candy is in the exact same spots. They have the same magazines. The man working at the desk is the exact same one. This bathroom is clean, though. You buy another soda and leave. The bell rings to announce your departure.
The city is different now. The lights are too bright. The smell hangs low. The crime is higher. You don't feel safe walking outside at night. You think about the wolves that used to live here. You hope they haunt the streets. They deserve to.
Someone shot up the big city Walmart yesterday. They're closing down. You hear a disappointed church lady tell her friend that she doesn't know where to get her radium, anymore. All the good places are going out of business. "It's those stupid kids," she says, "And all the theft. I wish I lived in Kewaunee." You are too caught up on the "radium" thing to question the name of that town.
Your boss is angry. You can feel it in the air. It vibrates around you like a jelly, stifling and crushing you, pushing your lungs into your chest. She smiles at you as you clock out. "You're fired" she says, her eyes trying to commit a crime. Her lips do not move as she speaks. They are frozen in her "customer service" smile.
You dump things into a pot. You do not read the labels. Everything sounds the same. Everything tastes the same. You have not touched your spice rack in three years. You have not ever smelled cardamom in your life. You do not know what chili is supposed to taste like. It's all the same. Everything is the same. It all tastes like hotdish. You eat it like it's the last food on earth and you're starving.
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kristenswig · 10 days
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#53. Civil War - Alex Garland
1/5
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SUMMARY: A newly-engaged couple have a breakdown in an isolated area and must seek shelter at the bizarre residence of Dr. Frank-n-Furter.
This is the mod’s favourite movie of all time, and it is absolutely a horror film. With all the affection in the mod’s heart, please fight her if you do not agree.
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SUMMARY: Two lighthouse keepers try to maintain their sanity while living on a remote and mysterious New England island in the 1890s.
Sorry to use this gif again, but the mod feels it is particularly relevant to this movie:
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SUMMARY: Giant mutant rabbits terrorize the south-west.
The mod has not seen this movie, but really wants you to read the below excerpt from the Wikipedia article. Because all I want to know is how they got Janet Leigh to star in this.
"Widely panned by critics for its silly premise, poor direction, stilted acting and bad special effects, the film's biggest failure is considered to be the inability to make the rabbits seem scary."
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SUMMARY: When two bumbling employees at a medical supply warehouse accidentally release a deadly gas into the air, the vapors cause the dead to rise again as zombies.
This movie is apparently responsible for the trope of zombies eating brains which is a lot of fun. Also look at how these actors are dressed! The mod wants to watch this real bad.
Also listen to this tagline: They're back from the grave and ready to party! How could you not love that?
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SUMMARY: As kids, they escaped a UFO death cult. Now, two adult brothers seek answers after an old videotape surfaces and brings them back to where they began.
There are some absolutely stunning visuals in this movie, plus the mod is a big fan of cult stuff in horror, so she'll definitely check it out.
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SUMMARY: A doctor experimenting with transplant techniques keeps his girlfriend's head alive when she is decapitated in a car crash, then goes hunting for a new body.
The most horrifying consept mod Sus knows, great!
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