A Haunting In New Jersey

BAKER STREET

by Eric J Baker

This is the true tale of a haunting.

I don’t expect you to believe me. Hell, I’m not sure I do, and I saw it with my own eyes. Nevertheless, it happened. So dim the lights, sit back, and notice that I’m starting my ghost story with a flagrant digression that allows me to mention two brand-new, big-budget films and stick in a cool image which, knowing this blog, will be of a nude man…

...only a semi-nude man, Eric. Ryan Reynolds has the sickest body in Hollywood. Pity to cover it up with CGI in Green Lantern.

The surest way to wreck a movie is to let a computer make it. It’s like crack. If you plan to go on a gang-banging thrill ride and be dead or in jail by morning, you have found your ticket to ride. But filmmakers who care about quality of life and self-respect know that the computer, like crack cocaine, is necessary but best when used in moderation. Art comes from the head and the heart, not from Hewlett Packard.

The Tom Hanks Rule

Our newest contributing satanist, Eric Baker

BAKER STREET

by Eric J Baker

[We’re pleased and relieved to have caved into the relentless pressure from daily PFC commenter Eric Baker and given him his own posting.  I want it to be about music, but he’s very stubborn for a future bottom bitch, so who knows. — JK]

So Killough says, “Gimme a music piece.”

I cringe. I’m like, “Aw, come on. Can’t I write about something else? How awesome the brakes are on my Civic, perhaps. That thing has stopping power. Like a .357 Magnum, only different.”

Killough says, “Music piece. You’re a musician. Do a music piece.”

“I got it!” I say, not listening, hoping my exaggerated enthusiasm will somehow convince the man. “I’ll write about how Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla is the most underrated Japanese giant monster movie of the 1970’s. Leagues better than Godzilla vs. Gigan, despite both films having been directed by Jun Fukuda.”

Killough does that quick head shake that means he’s getting irritated. “I do the movie talk here. And anyway, what?

We're only putting this crap in here to keep the token straight guy happy and writing.

After a few more minutes of back and forth nonsense, I cave in and agree to do the music piece, mostly because I’m dealing with an extremely stubborn person (no wonder my former lover, Susan Blais, didn’t like him). But I come away from the exchange aware of two things:

  1. Killough views himself as the dominant male. Even when he’s dealing with a straight guy, he still has to determine if I’m a “bottom bitch,” at least hypothetically. Being a waspy suburbanite, I was not aware of this term until I encountered it here, though I intrinsically knew what he meant from dealing with him. Frankly, I have almost as many control issues as James does, so I can’t see myself being the one biting the pillow.
  2. I have no idea how to write a music piece.