As I said, fast on the heels of our third son's birthday came this year's 250th Independence Day celebrations. Because we've been hit was some pretty hefty medical bills over the years, and the various boys have their expenses and lives and all, we were going to cut back on the fireworks that have become a thing ever since they were legalized here in the Buckeye State. But then we decided it just wasn't right, to cut out doing our own fireworks on none other than our 250th birthday as a nation. No way! So my oldest found a buy 1, get 2 free deal and we jumped on it.
Don't worry, we practice safe fireworks. We don't get the monstrous kind. Usually the type that make pretty lights displays. We divided the whole celebration over two days. On July 4th proper we went out while our town was setting off their own alternate fireworks display. Even toned down, it was a pretty good show. Better than some of the televised ones I'm sad to say. And leaps better than the trash heap that has become Columbus's vaunted Red, White and Boom over the years (including this one).
The next day, we had a grand multi-family cookout with my son's in-laws. That's the parents and one, two, three and four of their sons. That's right. The gremlins have six uncles. I'm not worried for their well being in the upcoming years.
It was a great time. One of those weekends where everything seemed to work. We even let the kiddos see some of the fireworks early on, particularly the quiet ones. Their reactions are still being analyzed. Otherwise, a fine time. Because of schedules and folks going their own ways, we didn't have the usual 'patriotic viewing' of old. But through July we'll try to catch up on a few things.
One other odd note. Some years it was customary for us to visit our big local cemetery and go around to the veterans, much like Memorial and Veterans Day. Even if it would have been only our youngest with us. But they had the cemetery closed on July 4th. I've not seen that before. Strange. I can't help but wonder why. But otherwise, a July 4th in our own humble way to be worthy of this country we've inherited on its 250th birthday.
And now the pictures!
Impromptu baby cleaning with a couple of the uncles from the other family - six in all, and not an aunt between them
Washing baby bucket is what happens when babies eat July 4th picnics
My new official favorite pic of her
Dueling with giant sparklers - don't try this at home people
Looking more like a Victorian mystery than 4th of July
Our three oldest introduce our daughter-in-law to the more dangerous ways to handle a sparkler
Our youngest tries to get fancy
Bad photo from dim lighting, but I like the effect
A Griffey family tradition: Build sculptures of sparklers and then burn away, trying to compete with the sun if we can
Another new tradition is run before the fireworks explode
A shot of our little finale for the year - a fine time
Though I seldom post any home videos, I figured it would be apropos to post this, the last of the fireworks we set off in our own humble display. Happy 250th Birthday!
I was in third grade when our Bicentennial came along. It was quite a show. Half of our year starting January was taken up in a vast, lavish production our school put on. Each grade did something different. Our third grade did a combination skit of settlers traveling into the West (including what had to be a guffaw inducing attempt at the Virginia Reel) with a nod toward the 1812 era as well. My best friend was Uncle Sam. I was the narrator. We saw videos, read books, and it seemed the Spirit of 76 was everywhere. It wasn't so much by the time I entered 4th Grade later that year. In fact, I remember little about the Bicentennial being dwelt upon by then. I suppose July 4th had come and gone and that was that.
That was a different time of course. I hear there were divisions then, as I'm sure there were. I do recall some talk about America's best days being behind us. But that's about all. Otherwise, when it was mentioned in my earshot, it seemed to be talked about rather enthusiastically. And though that was the first time I remember learning about things like Indian Wars and slavery, the overall package was one of positive praise and thankfulness for our country and those who came before:
The president on the dollar
That Yankee Doodle dollar
The president on the dollar
George Washington's his name
I still remember that song we sang at the time. And it was just one of many. Again, by then we were being given a kiddy portion of 'they weren't all saints and angels'. But the overall focus was on the good. At least from a kid's perspective. A focus that, at least officially, remained until well into my college days.
Looking back at the pop culture output through my adults eyes, however, I'm amazed at how counterculture such an upbeat and patriotic celebration really was. Certainly most things we were celebrating were, by then, held up to derision or mockery by our emerging post-Western social standards, if they were mentioned at all. As Mark Shea once said, back then if you wanted to know who the patriots were in popular entertainment, well there was Archie Bunker. He was a patriot. Frank Burnes on the TV show MASH was a patriot.
Other ideals like honor, duty, loyalty were as often as not punchlines, not life principles. People wrapping themselves up in the flag and singing God Bless America must have been seen as freaks or losers or, well, how our popular media culture and progressive society today see those who want to make America great again.
Back then, however, I have a feeling there was still the benefit of a majority witness for those who wanted the bands and bunting and Kate Smith renditions of patriotic songs. We weren't quite finished yet, and the arrival of Ronald Reagan in 1980 would make patriotism cool again. It would also force a shift in the Left's anti-patriotism to a new manifestation of patriotism. That is, you declare your patriotic love of America, but insist that love is only valid when you focus on the evils and failures and horrors of its past and present. It's still patriotism, just patriotism done right.
Nonetheless, in 1976, to my third grade mind in a small Midwestern farming town, patriotism wasn't that bad. And not only because the big celebrations got us out of the usual school doldrums. Not that it wasn't lost on us. But I remember feeling genuinely good about being in America. And even today, after everything for so many decades, and so many attempts to get me to think otherwise, somehow I'm able to feel good about it again. So raise a cold one, thank - not curse, thank - those who came before who made this possible, and say happy birthday #250 USA. I still think it's not a bad way to spend a fourth.
Did I mention the Spirit of 76 seemed to be everywhere?
About 2,000 survivors attended the 50th anniversary event in 1991. A few dozen have showed in recent decades. In 2024, only two made it. That is out of an estimated 87,000 troops stationed on Oahu that day. None made the pilgrimage to Hawaii last year.
Over at The American Catholic, there was a similar reflection on Memorial Day when thinking on that Greatest Generation and the passage of time. Other observation about Mr. Johnson that probably sums up much of that generation's tendencies:
“I wish more people were like him today. He just gets on and doesn’t complain about anything,” said Desmond Keogh, the chairman of the parade who has accompanied Johnson. “It’s what this country was all about. They were just a different generation. They did what was best for their country.”
Each generation probably wants to be a credit to those who came before, and I'm sure the development of Memorial Day was merely a part of that process. Whether that is what our current generation wants or cares about, I don't know.
Nonetheless, Memorial Day is a day to ponder such thing. As a reminder, here is one way my family has done so over the years, from an old, old post. There were many other things we did, but this came to my mind this week.
In the end of the sabbath, as it began to dawn toward the
first day of the week, came Mary Magdalene and the other Mary to see the
sepulchre. And, behold, there was a great earthquake: for the angel of the
Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door,
and sat upon it. His countenance was like lightning, and his raiment white as
snow: And for fear of him the keepers did shake, and became as dead men.
And the angel answered and said unto the women, Fear not
ye: for I know that ye seek Jesus, which was crucified. He is not here: for
he is risen, as he said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay. And go
quickly, and tell his disciples that he is risen from the dead; and, behold, he
goeth before you into Galilee; there shall ye see him: lo, I have told you.
And they departed quickly from the sepulchre with fear and
great joy; and did run to bring his disciples word. Matthew 28.1-8
And, as my son noted, the same development continues. That is, when he was young, we began hearing about MLK well before Christmas, and it continued well past Black History Month. Throughout the rest of the year you could count on hearing MLK quoted or referenced at least once a week in sermons, interviews, speeches and newscasts.
Now? The first mention of MLK Day I heard was last Tuesday (apart from the extended weather forecast that had today as MLK Day on the calendar). I remember as a pastor being in meetings in November when I was asked plans for the day. Now? Our priest mentioned him in his homily yesterday, but that's it. I think that's the first time I've heard him mentioned in church since last year. Yet when we came into the church, like most churches I had seen, it wasn't uncommon to hear him reference many times over the year. I did see a MLK post on some news page last year before the holidays. Can't remember why, but that was it.
After all, we've all but completely endorsed judging and sizing people up based on race and skin color (think White Privilege). And since 2020, the Left has made it clear that violence, rather than never being the answer, can be a darn good answer. So much for the man of peace calling for content of character over skin color.
Yes, there were some attempts in 2020 and 2021 to insist we had the MLK legacy all wrong. That before he was killed he was warming up to a bit of the old ultra-violence, especially when dealing with America's whiteness problem. But that seemed to have crashed pretty quickly.
Now, it's the odd mention every few months give or take. And for a week or so, we roll out the MLK day focus, hit it hard on the day itself (the message today apparently being that MLK would be right with the anti-ICE protesters), and then that's that. We'll see. But if this year is anything like the last several, this too shall pass and pass quickly.
BTW, this is not an indictment on the man himself. It's an indictment on a nation that has played this false for decades. It's just so apparent when you see how MLK has been manipulated to achieve ends it's unlikely MLK ever imagined.
For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the greatness of his government and peace there will be no end. He will reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever. The zeal of the Lord Almighty will accomplish this.Isaiah 9.6-7
Rather than prattle on about the problems with the holiday and the issues surrounding us, perhaps just a time to stop and say thanks. Just like those first puritans spending three days celebrating and partying and thanking God for their blessings. Considering the losses they experienced and the hardships, they still found time for endless thanksgiving. And that's not a bad thought to remember.
For fun, here is an article attempting to delve into the past and figure out just what it is that those immigrants and Indians actually ate on the famous feast. I'm sure it wasn't green bean casserole, which is why we never eat that on Thanksgiving. But I'd like to think among all the venison, a nice plump turkey the way we breed found its way onto the table.
For a reminder, the reasons my wife and I have to be thankful, among many others:
The reading of this in the film My Boy Jack always brings home Veterans Day and the risks and costs behind it:
It's been said that the problem with 'Nothing to kill for' is that it is inevitably followed by 'Nothing to die for', which is a backhanded way of saying 'Nothing in this universe more important than me'. As foundational as this is for our post-war secularized liberal society, it's antithetical to not just core Christian values, but the values shared by most of humanity throughout most of time.
Yet when we see things like Veterans Day or Memorial Day or even the daily sacrifice or risk people take to help or save others, I notice that our kneejerk reaction is seldom 'what an idiot.' No, we usually, almost instinctively, cheer them on or remember those who have served or sacrificed with reverence. From the top of our pop culture down.
So it's almost as if, despite the uber-narrative that I must love me first, think of me first, prioritize me first, and heaven forbid think there is anything out there worth dying for - we really don't believe it. Just what it says about a society whose formal instructions aren't even believed by those instructing us, I don't know. I just know when days like this come along, it never seems to mesh with the usual tripe we hear from our best and brightest about how the greatest love of all is the love I should have for myself, everything else being a distant second.
Back in the earliest days of my blog, Simcha Fischer posted a list of scary movies she watched with her family around spook season when she was at National Catholic Register. Deciding to shamelessly steal the idea, I posted the same thing, and it led to an early boost in my visits. No doubt in part because of the images I used being ones people at the time were likely searching for. Eh. It still worked, and the old blog got quite a lift in page views.
Since then, we've watched many more movies that weren't on the list. Some on the list aren't watched as much anymore. Of course most aren't watched with everyone because of obvious life changes. And there are those not listed here because, while we have watched them many times over the years, they aren't even a once every three Halloween watch. So here is the much awaited update - Movies to Scare Kids By, Part II:
Night of the Demon, 1957
MacGinnis (L) and Andrews selling the story
They say this was the first movie in the modern era, post-war at least, to handle the topic of demonology, the occult and Satanism. Subjects that would dominate the film world during the 1970's 'decade of realism', culminating in the early 1980's infamous 'Satanic Panic.' In the 1950s, the old monsters of folklore and myth were passe, giving way to radioactive giant reptiles, insects, and people, all mixed with endless aliens from everywhere in the universe. At the high noon of such nuclear age focus came this British movie. The story deals with the 'Great Karswell' and his cult of devil worshippers. It shows you up front what is happening, so the audience doesn't ponder if it is real (something the film makers didn't want but were forced to show by the studio). Nonetheless, Dana Andrews is the usual skeptical scientist who needs bludgeoned over the head by a hundred foot tall demon before he'll believe - and even then he seems to drag his feet. Beyond the subject matter, the movie is carried by Irish actor (and physician) Niall MacGinnis as Karswell, whose unique "poetic timbre" gives an offsetting, odd and not quite right feel to what could have been a cardboard caricature.
The City of the Dead, 1960 (US: 1961)
The shadow of the cross will protect them...
Released in the United States with the unfortunate title Horror Hotel, The City of the Dead is a movie also seeking to discard the post-Nuclear monster insect fad that dominated the late 50s and 60s. No mad scientists here. In fact, the only scientist is the obligatory sceptic, having nothing to do with their obsession with witches and witchcraft. Christopher Lee stars as Alan Driscoll, a professor of history and expert in the topic of New England witchcraft. A prize student of his, Nan Barlow, played by model and actress Venetia Stevenson, is directed to Professor Driscoll's childhood home, which happens to be the the sight of a famous witch burning that is shown in the movie's opening. Once there, the fog never lets up. Really. It is never daytime, and not foggy in the village of Whitewood. It is a ramshackle, run down community where nobody speaks and everyone looks, well, off kilter. Soon things begin to happen, young Miss Barlow vanishes, and her brother (a professor of science) and boyfriend must find out what happened. The whole drama culminates in a final scene I saw on TV as a child and never forgot. It has much atmosphere, and continues with the themes of the occult and supernatural that we saw with The Night of the Demon. Also it's fun to watch and see the obvious influences on some of Stephen King's works, as well as the age old question - given the basic framework of the movie and its year of release, did it come first or did Psycho?
Psycho, 1960
No caption needed
Speaking of which, somehow this began to be included in the annual cycle of spooky viewing. I needn't dwell on the specifics. I mean, is there a more iconic suspense thriller than this? I knew about the shower scene before I knew what showers were. And that was back then. Though I will say this. I have forever envied those moviegoers who saw the film upon its initial release. Only they could have appreciated Hitchcock's sleight of hand, as it's clear the early movie sets up Janet Leigh as the actual psycho. Embezzling money from her boss to force the hand of her lover Sam Loomis into marrying her, she then drives across country, becoming more neurotic and paranoid with each mile. Each person she runs into -seeing her boss cross the street, a police officer, California Charlie the used car salesman - becomes more and more of a threat as her mind runs wild. Then as the weather turns sour, she pulls into the isolated Bates Motel. Upon meeting a young Norman Bates, the audience thinks here's another person she's going to go crazy worrying about. And yet, as they converse over an impromptu snack, something is different this time. From the moment you see him change from picking keys to Room 3 to Room 1, you begin to get the impression that somehow, in some way, perhaps she wasn't the psycho after all. To be able to watch it like that is something I do envy.
The Wicker Man, 1973
Christopher Lee gives another understated performance
A disturbing movie on many levels, brilliantly executed, and a reminder for all of those who pine for the peace loving hippy days of love fest paganism. On the surface, it does look like a celebration of good old pagan free sex versus that tired old religious puritanism of Christianity. Edward Woodward plays a devout Christian policeman investigating the disappearance of a young girl from a nearby island off the English coast. As he makes his rounds, he is stunned at what he sees - like a Woodstock orgy on acid. This is only made worse when he meets the island's unapologetic lord, played by Christopher Lee in what he called one of his favorite roles. Things begin to go from crazy to nightmarish for Woodward until, only when it is too late, he realizes just what he has uncovered. It is an ending that will stay with you a long time after the movie is over.
Steven King's Silver Bullet, 1985
Made in the wake of The Howling and Rick Baker's groundbreaking effects for An American Werewolf in London, it is inferior to those two movies in most ways. The design for the monster in question always looked like a teddy bear with a mean streak and not much more. With most of King's movies, either they deviate enough to improve the material, or try to stretch the material out to a two hour version of not much. Somehow, this movie manages to do a little of neither. Still, there are some things to like. It wisely adds a seasonal feel by having the final confrontation take place on Halloween night (while picky observers note that in the actual year it is supposed to happen, the moon was not full on Halloween). The principal actors are good enough, and do their jobs well enough to carry the story. Many in the support cast actually shine brighter than the leads. There are some heartfelt moments, and some good scenes that suggest a better movie in the making. Plus it does contain one of the most purely gothic scenes ever put to celluloid. Then of course there is Gary Busey. Never has Gary Busey more Gary Bussied than here. If you like your Gary Busey acting three sheets to the wind even when he's not drunk, this is the movie for you.
L to R: Angry teddy bear; Werewolf to scare the bloody pants off of you (courtesy of The Howling)
The Fall of the House of Usher
One of the catalogue of Roger Corman's 'how to mutilate Poe' films. Of all of them, this is the one trying at least somewhat to cleave unto the original source material. Vincent Price, Mr. Horror of Poe himself, does a good job of making the ailing Roderick Usher come off as unsettling at best. The settings are typical Corman, lots of fog, everything looks dead (as well it should), the interior shots are properly gothic, and the costumes are straight out of a Broadway costume drama. At only 79 minutes, it still feels like the main goal is to stretch and stretch again the story into a full length theatrical release. Nonetheless, when it does get going, and the set of the crypts is revealed, the whole begins to come together and makes for viewing that fits well into the Halloween seasonal feel.
Dracula, Prince of Darkness (1966)
The sequel to Hammer's The Horror of Dracula, its first instalment of an eternally long string of Dracula movies. Featuring one of the best showdowns between Dracula and his arch-nemesis Van Helsing, Hammer reminds us that when it comes to adapting books into movies, don't worry about the books. The names are the same, but don't apply to the same people. We still have no clue where it is supposed to take place. The story begins in the first minute by quoting Jonathan Harker's journal, and then promptly begins rewriting the journal itself, with the story to follow. Nonetheless, so successful was its performances at the box office that a sequel from Hammer was inevitable. Dracula, Prince of Darkness begins a decade or so after the events of the first movie. Not able to get Peter Cushing back, they bring in four stalwart Brit performers as well as the always reliable Andrew Keir to weave together a new story centered around a speechless Dracula (the reasons for Lee having no dialogue being debated to this day). Two brothers and their wives defy warnings from a rambunctious abbot and visit too close to the Castle Dracula. As they say, when you're in horror movies, you make dumb decisions. What follows is predictable, and the ending, while interesting in leaning on the tale that vampires can't cross running water, is nowhere close to the first movie's ending (see below). Also, the 'vampire as bizarre mutant monster, not supernatural' gets kicked into high gear, and you're left pondering just what Keir's abbot actually believes about - anything. I suppose it was the apex of accepting that everything spiritual must really be material. It's worth noting, BTW, that the TV channels we had when I was growing up must have owned this movie outright, because more than almost any other horror movie, it seemed this was shown repeatedly. Also, like The City of the Dead, one can see some clear influences on both Stephen King and, of all things, Dungeons and Dragons!
Curse of the Werewolf (1961)
Oliver Reed shines in this tortured tale. While Hammer would raid old Universal story lines and adapt them liberally from the source material, they toss Curt Siodmak's concocted Wolf Man story out the window. Instead, for this movie they lean on actual European folklore and superstitions about werewolves and their origins. Reed's Leon is definitely a tragic character, almost as much as his adopted father, played brilliantly by Welsh actor Clifford Evans. A viewer will almost be lost at first, as the initial scenes in the movie tap into historical beliefs about where werewolves originate. Then we meet Leon as a young child with decidedly un-childlike tendencies: Like sleepwalking and returning with blood all over his torn up clothes. Growing up doesn't help, and like any true Gothic tale, it oozes with tragedy, for that's typically what defines a Gothic tale. True to form, Hammer Films, as it so often did, managed to punch well above its weight in terms of what it could do with very limited budgets and resources, and makes this one of the most rewatchable of its extensive catalogue.
The Curse of Frankenstein (1957)
The Hammer film that put Hammer in the spotlight. Initially panned for its gore, its production and its gratuitous levels of - then - shocking visuals, the movie has since been seen as a milestone due to its role in bringing back the classic horror genre in the age of sci-fi and nuclear paranoia. Like most Hammer films, the source material is out the window. It isn't even based on stage plays. The film begins with Dr. Frankenstein awaiting his execution. He tells his tale of what happened, a tale we should be at least vaguely familiar with. If Frankenstein is sometimes less sympathetic than his creation in the original novel, here he's pure villain. Willing to murder to maintain his project of life creation, Cushing's Frankenstein ranks as one of Hammer's most heartless monsters. Even more than the grotesque creature itself, played again by a speechless Christopher Lee. Scottish actor Robert Urquhart is wonderful as Frankenstein's mentor, turned adversary as he begins to recoil in horror at what his prized student is capable of doing. Like most Hammer films, for its day it pulled no punches, and the ending shows that not all movies need to end happily.
The House on Haunted Hill, 1959
The move makes as much sense as this photo
Pure schlock of the highest degree of schlock. Vincent Price is at his hammy best here, playing the eccentric zillionaire Frederick Loren in what has to be one of the most hilariously convoluted storylines ever. Released back when low budget movie gimmicks was a fad, the story, the logic, the consistency, the defiance of reality, the basic 'what the hell is going on here' problems with the plot, all take a back seat to a faddish technology long lost on modern audiences. The basic idea is that Mr. Loren has put together a party at a notoriously haunted house - for reasons? And then he and his wife pretty much hate each other, until it is revealed there is at least a five way double cross conspiracy orchestrated by - someone? Elisha Cook is almost slappable with his annoying prattling, and most of the actors seem genuinely confused, because the audience certainly is. Nonetheless, it sort of got added to the mix some years ago, and is a family favorite. Especially since the boys like to do with it what they do with the old Frosty the Snowman Christmas special. That is, eviscerate it down to its core with comedic jabs and digs at the obvious loopholes of logic and plotlines.
The Haunting, 1963
In keeping with the emerging focus on the supernatural and away from space aliens and giant mutants, we're treated to this cinematic version of Shirley Jackson's novel The Haunting of Hill House. To be honest, this isn't really my cup of tea. For some reason, the atmosphere and the portrayal of the haunting itself comes off as almost tinny, if that means anything. There is a mechanical feel to it all that doesn't hit me as 'supernatural' or 'spiritual.' More like sound machines and drum sets behind the stage than ethereal spirits. Nonetheless, it is liked here on the home front, and I don't hate it. There is some good there, especially the lore attached to the story. The sets themselves are good, and the acting solid. Yes, we all get the subtle inuendo behind the two female leads' relationship. But overall, each actor of the small cast does good enough. Not to mention Julie Harris's Elinore Lance has a bullseye over her that even the least attentive viewer can't help but see. So it's OK, but probably not a favorite, at least for me.
Night of the Living Dead, 1968
And in color, too!
The low budget independent film against which all low budget independent films are measured. Literally filming out of the trunk of his car, George Romero managed to redefine a mythical concept and invent a genre in almost one fell swoop. Despite the heavy handed Civil Rights Era messaging, Romero has always insisted the story was already in place when Duane Jones was cast. The ending just coincidently looked like it was pushing a message. A spin on societal paranoia and survival against all odds that would make Rod Serling proud, it manages to start with a punch and never let up. With a budget barely enough to buy a McDonald's happy meal in terms of movie financing, Romero managed to piece together an intense, suspenseful, and compelling labor of love that still holds up, and unsettles the viewer, even today.
Ghost Story, 1981
Enough class to fill the screen
Based on Peter Straub's 1979 novel of the same name, the movie distills the book down to the classic 'old dark secret shared by friends' storyline. As they enter the twilight of their years, four life long friends become concerned when one suddenly dies, for no apparent reason. Then goes another one. Finally, the son of the first to die shows up and tells his tale. A beautiful young woman came into his life who seemed, well, every guy's dream. It being the sex saturated early 80s, this dream is played out on screen in very non-family friendly ways. Yet something begins to look wrong. He soon links her to his own brother who died mysteriously after meeting a young woman who sounded a lot like his current flame. Stories are told, and the dark secret the four pledged to keep forever when they were young is revealed. At that point, they conclude this might be a case of revenge from the netherworld. The fact that they rounded up some phenomenal acting power - Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., Fred Astaire, John Houseman and Patricia Neal to name a few - lifts the movie by at least a letter grade. Good atmosphere and creepy settings don't hurt.
The Witch, 2015
It's a family in-joke
A movie that came out of nowhere and absolutely awed everyone who saw it. The story is of a Puritan family in 17th Century American concluding their community isn't up to their own high Christian standards. Therefore, they strike out to make their own way in the American wilderness. Things soon go from bad to catastrophic as the disappearance of their newborn is followed by a strange and disturbing series of events, both natural and unsettling. Meanwhile, one by one the members of the family are either lost or turn on one another. The movie itself deserves a full blog post, and much has been written about it. The thing I like, beyond it leaving things open at the end, is that the movie respected the material. It didn't hoist the Calvinist family up for ridicule or mockery or 'gee they were the pits' levels of derision. It merely says 'these people did this, this is how they saw things, and this is what happened.' Such a treatment of the past is almost rarer today than a valid witch sighting in these jaded times of ubiquitous presentism. And it helps make this some great, if not disturbing, viewing for a Halloween season lineup.
CHEATS:
The next couple are movies we used to watch but my wife began to find a bit troubling. I think it has to do with raising teenagers and college students.
Halloween, 1978
It begins
It was like Romero's Night of the Living Dead, but taken to the next level. The initial charge was for John Carpenter to make another garbage quality hack and slash movie for the post-adolescent palate. But rather than just grab a camera and shoot, he decided to reach into that haversack of creativity, add a little golly-gee-whiz, along with some out of the box seasonal inspired thinking, and came up with a movie that blew the socks off of audiences when it was released, and showed just what independent filmmaking could accomplish at the box office. My cousin Joannie, the night they saw it in theaters, made her husband go in and turn on all the lights in their house and check all the closets before she got out of the car. I heard that story repeated endlessly back then. It's amazing what a bag of dead leaves, a William Shatner mask, a machete, a pumpkin special ordered from New England, Donald Pleasance, and the date October 31st gave to an otherwise forgettable low budget project. Also, we should mention the movie's musical score, written by Carpenter, has become one of the most iconic scores ever. A fitting bit of trivia for a movie that carved its own niche in movie history.
The Blair Witch Project, 1999
You have to admit - it works
One of the first fruits of the Internet age, it played the new medium like a maestro and generated one of the biggest blockbusters, in terms of profit margins, in movie history. Of course like anything, it quickly became just as fashionable to hate and despise the movie as initially praise it. A film by actual students in the University of Central Florida film department, the story centers around students in a film department doing a documentary on the legend of the Blair Witch. The basic premise is sort of like Dracula, but in the video age. That is, their film cameras they used to track everything that happened were discovered, and what we are watching is what actually went down. Ok. If Dracula's whole 'quick, something isn't right, let's get to the diary' framework seemed to stretch things at times, this movie's 'oh no, we could die - quick, grab a camera', went over the edge. But putting aside the obvious need for suspending tremendous amounts of disbelief, the movie did a good job of reminding us that less can often be more. The fall foliage, the wilderness isolation, the nod to a cemetery, the community with only hints of Halloween decorations never focused on, the abandoned house, the strange yet understated totems in the middle of the woods, did a far better job at helping the viewer paint a frightening mental picture than most movie special effects artists could ever do.
SPECIAL MENTION
Ghost Story (2017)
Really, he's in a bed sheet
We still aren't sure what to make of this. Starring Casey Affleck, it is the story of a young couple, madly in love, whose lives are shattered by the sudden and tragic death of the young man (Affleck). After the shock of the accident, Affleck suddenly finds himself in, well, a bedsheet and confined to his home. Without saying a word, he watches as the love of his life moves on, only to be replaced by others who come and go until suddenly it looks like the year 2929 with space skyscrapers and flying cars and then - woosh! There he is, in his sheet, looking upon a barren wilderness. He sees 19th Century settlers, then the decaying body of a dead child with an arrow in her back (gutsy move that), and suddenly, things start coming full circle as around him emerges the neighborhood and house he knew. Each scene contains characters and dialogue that muse on life, death, time, morality, the divine, and the eternal. All while the ghost with two eye-holes silently observes. My wife isn't keen on watching it again, but I admit I wouldn't mind giving it another whirl.
So there you have it. For the record, not all of them are watched every year, and some more often than others. A few have only been watched a couple times, but almost always around October, owing to the seasonal vibes.
For all that has gone on in our country, it's amazing that when you think it's time to move somewhere else, you're still hard pressed to imagine where. As I've told my boys over the years, there are people in the world who would kill to have our worst day. Not that an American with a brain tumor the size of a watermelon is therefore not really suffering or shouldn't complain. It's just that we have so many wonderful blessings we can take for granted that barely rank fiction in many places in the world, and throughout most of human history. That's why it's easy to forget how thankful we should be. Which might be part of the problem; a problem perhaps intentionally manufactured.
UPDATE: Another example of the malaise among those forgetting our blessings comes from Where Peter Is. A young John Grosso demonstrates that common line of thought, especially among the Left, that says America deserves to be celebrated only if and when America votes Democrat and acts as the Left dictates, and not a minute before. This is accomplished under that liberal umbrella that claims to be tolerant of everything but evil, while defining evil as anything that isn't liberal. So they're not saying Americans must conform to their politics, they're merely saying America shouldn't celebrate in such evil times, which looks to all observers like being defined as not conforming to progressive politics. While leftwing activists like you'll find at WPI are more flagrant with the notion that praiseworthy only means progressive, I fear it has filtered down into a common mentality, especially among younger generations. An excuse to avoid sacrificing or committing to a cause unless it's worthy of me - and I can always make sure it never is worthy of me, so I needn't bother with those sacrifices and commitments to other causes.
BTW, I've taken to visiting WPI semi-regularly to note the sparseness of Pope Leo articles compared to how you couldn't go five minutes without seeing new articles singing the praises of Pope Francis on a regular basis. I find that interesting, and yet I've noticed it across the liberal Catholic spectrum. We'll see.
That's the USS Arizona Memorial, the camera near the surface of the water during a rain shower. I don't know why, but that evoked. Who knows? Maybe it's just AI. In any event, it seems fitting for such days' usual memories.
So it was that time of year again. Not the time when we're told how racist Thanksgiving is and how the holiday should be abolished while we put our emphasis on Indigenous Peoples Month. Nope. Truth be told, I heard and saw little of that this year. The year 2021 seems to have been the high water mark of the Left's America hate, when that sort of thing was everywhere and around everything American. This year it's been references to the strategically placed 'Native American Heritage and Indigenous Peoples Day', but not much else. Which is like those atheists who post 'There is no God' around Christmas. No clue if the election had anything to do with the dialed down level of such rhetoric this year.
No, I mean from the conservative side. When I first became Catholic and was frequenting many a Catholic blog, most of which were right of center, I was rather taken by the posting around the first Thanksgiving. As we went through RCIA, I remember one of the instructors saying that we Americans don't know the real first Thanksgiving, owing to our Protestant bias. Eh. I though OK, fair call, but the holiday received is the one we received, and that's part of our shared heritage as Americans, so I don't feel I'll make any changes any time soon. Plus, if most don't know the specifics, they are aware that Spain and Catholicism was here, it's just we became an Anglo-American society owing to the influence of Enlightenment era Protestant England and the victories and accomplishments thereof, so the traditional approach makes sense.
But that first year I realized this is not some off the cuff remark in an RCIA class. That same approach was - everywhere on St. Blogs. I lost track of how many blogs that year posted variations on 'The REAL First Thanksgiving' was Catholic. And it still happens. I don't think a year has passed that I haven't seen it on at least a couple Catholic blogs Which, you know, is nothing other than a variant on 'It should really be Indigenous Peoples Day!' If you think on it.
Oh, quibble all you want about leftwing agendas and the differences here, but ultimately what is being said is that the heritage we have in the Thanksgiving Holiday is flawed, and should be reframed, or rethought, or rebranded. Which is all the Left is saying, just to other extremes.
And that's why conservatives lose. I've often said that at any time of the year, the Left can count on 1/3 of conservatives and those on the right jumping on board and siding with whatever the Left is pushing. This goes way back. One of my pet hypotheses is that America began its formal decline when we became convinced that America had no right to have a cultural and ethnic identity. That is, we could not be a WASP nation. No matter how the nation attempted to allow others in and push equality and make sure everyone is given the same fair shake, we simply could not be a WASP nation by identity and culture and social majority.
That was driven into me in elementary school, when I first hear the term WASP, and was taught how glorious is was that we were putting that identity behind us. And first up on the list was not the Civil Rights legislation, or anything to do with Jim Crow. It was Kennedy becoming the first Catholic president. That was the wonderful chink in the WASP armor that signaled we were not longer merely a Protestant nation, we were a Christian one. Much to the delight of Catholics then and now.
Learning about that in fourth grade was, I'll admit, ironic, because by then we were already tossing not only our Christian ideals, but religious ideals in general, into the outer darkness and becoming a secularized, atheist state in all but church attendance. Yet Catholics then as now cheered the idea of getting rid of that WASP, at least insofar as it meant Protestant, identity. The problem now is clear. As I said, it didn't stop with erasing the Protestant. Nor did it stop with anything else.
Yet every year, on the Catholic internet, Catholics will join the Left in saying why Thanksgiving as we have it is at least flawed in our understanding. Most, of course, don't go so far as to say throw down the holiday and burn it in the turkey friers. And there are those least those who are more conservative, who still celebrate and give credit to the traditional holiday and its more Protestant origins.
But it's there nonetheless. An 'us v. them' approach to the holiday that I've noticed the Left will always and forever condone and encourage and be grateful for, especially when done among those who otherwise oppose the Left. Something you never see happen anywhere left of center I might add. Which is why the Left wins. Even amidst temporary setbacks. Because whatever the Left doesn't learn, it will always know that in the future, conservatives will forever be bickering and dividing themselves, and if nothing else, the Left will be able to call that a win.
Oh, and we won't even get into that odd 'the real lesson of Thanksgiving is that socialism never works.' Not saying it does or doesn't, but the real lesson I grew up with until the rise of multi-cultural anti-Western dribble was that the Pilgrims put it all on the line and risked everything, even their lives, in this new land all because of their beliefs and convictions. And when against hope they survived, they joined with the natives of the land and gave glory and thanks to God as the reason they survived. Even in elementary school, we learned that. So please stop with the 'enough of the God stuff Dave, it's about the economy stupid.' Again, the first step in defeating an opponent is to stop helping the opponent. Because anything that cuts through our side is always a boon for theirs.
One here, remembering my family members who have gone before from an All Souls Day post, that includes some veterans on the list.
And here, where I unpacked more my favorite veteran - my late dad, as well as others.
Also here is a less pleasant one, a post dealing with Catholic BLM activist Gloria Purvis. In it she claimed a celebrated war hero from WWII was never honored - I'll let you guess why she implies he was never honored. Yet as readers of the comments section will note, and something I later verified myself, in a war that saw war heroes lifted up and celebrated for any reason possible, he was actually quite honored and celebrated in the day. Far more than many heroes of the time.
Whether partisan driven laziness or willful ignorance or whatever on Purvis's part, I don't know. I'll take a charitable assumption and guess she just wasn't driven to find out the facts ahead of time (which was discoverable on none other than Wikipedia). And those who reposted her post back then with tears and sorrows for our racist nation assumed that she had done the required research.
But given Veteran's Day as a day to remember those who served, and given that we saw such a repudiation of those like Purvis and their style of leftwing activism that seeks to tear down and besmirch what those veterans served for, it seems a fitting thing to link to on this day of remembrance.
And just in case we need a reminder for those striving for goodness and virtue against the Left's alternatives:
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