channel freakboy: DARK SHADOWS ("Door to the Infinite" Edition)

My sister and I have been watching DARK SHADOWS, the classic gothic daytime soap opera which ran on ABC from 1966-1971.  She had seen all of it before and I had seen most of it.  We are a little over halfway done with the approximately 1,245 episodes and have been seriously enjoying the atmospheric visit to Collinsport, Maine.  It all started with a young woman arriving to be a governess to a disturbed boy at  Collinwood mansion, but it wasn't long before supernatural elements began to manifest.  The most notable of these, of course, is the vampire Barnabas Collins.

For the record, we are not watching for the series' allegedly camp qualities.  My sister and I are so emotionally absorbed in the characters and storylines, that we don't see the so-called cheap special effects.  It also helps that we keep in mind that TV studios didn't allocate a huge budget to daytime dramas, and still don't.  From Josette's first spectral appearance to Laura Collins' flammable Phoenix exit to Barnabas standing at the door to the Infinite, DARK SHADOWS has managed to create effective, edge of your seat moments within its limited budget.  The latter is why I'm writing this. 

It's early 1969 and the Collins clan has abandoned Collinwood due to the extremely malevolent spirit of Quentin Collins, who has possessed young David.  The family takes refuge at the Old House, which was their original ancestral home and is also where Barnabas is residing.  Barnabas, who is currently not a vampire (long story), decides to confront the spirit of Quentin and save David by using the ancient Chinese divination practice of I Ching.  In a trance, Barnabas' spirit must pass through the Door to the Infinite to face Quentin on an equal astral plane.  Fate has other plans for Barnabas because the door leads him to 1897, where he essentially Quantum Leaps into his vampire body.  This is where an extended time travel storyline begins and so far the events are thrilling! 

However, it is that moment when Barnabas is standing before the Door to the Infinite which impressed and fascinated me.  It's such a simple scene that would probably be CGI nowadays. Back in 1969, the incredible manual  lighting trick gives the moment a beautiful and unearthly quality.  The screenshot I took appears even more beautiful and haunting because it looks like an artist's rendering of the scene.  It challenges the viewer to imagine what might wait for them beyond the Door to the Infinite.  An eye exam chair would probably be there to ensnare me.  For Barnabas Collins, a chained up coffin awaited him because, human or not, he will never fully escape the vampiric curse.  Also because that's where his vampire body could be found in 1897.  To find out how Barnabas escapes the confines of his coffin, you can watch on Amazon Prime!  

Perhaps I'll blog more about Dark Shadows when my sister and I have finished the series, which might be in March or April.  Until then...

Thank you for reading or listening to my half-blind words and have a productive 2020. 

Freak Out, 

JLH 

P.S.  My television posts were once called The TV Freak and here is one of those...

https://freakboyzone.blogspot.com/2016/12/the-tv-freak-returns-revivals.html 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DARK EXCURSIONS is a post-modern gothic romance.

With its intriguing twists and turns, this novel is sure to entertain the soap opera fan in your life...

https://thejlhcollective.blogspot.com/2018/03/dark-excursions-complete-set.html  

2 0 1 9

I didn't live up to my self-designated theme song for 2019, "Wig in a Box" from Hedwig and the Angry Inch, but I initially tried.  Releasing VISION BENT (half-blind poems) was the best way that I've found to be the best you've ever seen.  Then being interviewed by a fellow blogger was like tasting a hint of fame or, at least, notoriety.  ( To experience my 15 minutes...http://www.mygayopinion.com/3178/john-l-harmons-vision-bent/ )   

I faltered through the remainder of the year.  I could blame life, but I throw the responsibility onto my own shoulders.  I allowed a negative perception of myself and my surroundings to eat away at me and what I accomplished early on this year.  It was a deep rabbit hole that I'm still crawling out of. 

Guess that's why I feel "The Jig is Up" by Jill Sobule is the song that ultimately sums up my year.  Especially the lyric...Maybe I'm just in a bad mood and I need to change my attitude.  The final lyric also speaks to me...The story needs another twist and I have had enough of this.  Hopefully any twists in 2020 will be positive or at least I will hopefully be able to find the elusive silver lining.

I'm not going to make a ginormous, insurmountable New Year's resolution for 2020.  I just want to go for more walks, listen to more e-books and focus more on writing, with concentrated effort on this blog and A STUDY IN ORANGE.  

Thank you for reading or listening to my half-blind words. 

I will see you next year...so to speak. 

Freak Out, 

John L. Harmon 

P.S. A post from this year that I'm kind of proud of because my words may have changed the minds of a few people...

https://freakboyzone.blogspot.com/2019/10/freakboy-on-film-childs-play-2019.html

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My books & blogs...

http://thejlhcollective.blogspot.com/2018/03/the-collective.html

freakboy muses music: HAVE YOURSELF A SCARY LITTLE CHRISTMAS (Tales from the Crypt)

'Twas the fright before Christmas 

And all through the crypt 

Not a creature was stirring 

'Cept those being whipped 

('Twas the Fright Before Christmas) 

1994 

              (The Right Stuff Records}

For someone who doesn't really celebrate Christmas in a traditional way, I seem to have lots of Christmas traditions involving films, television and music.  Being a fan of E.C. Comics (even though I can no longer read them), who also enjoys potentially offensive festive offerings, this Christmas album was destined to be in my life.

The Crypt-Keeper 

a self-promoting cadaverous whore after my own decaying heart.

TALES FROM THE CRYPT was a notorious 1950's horror comic book that would, several decades later, be turned into an HBO anthology television series.  The Crypt-Keeper, literally a decaying corpse, would bookend each episode with morbid puns and ghoulish fun.  In hindsight, it's no stretch of the imagination that a sly, clever, gruesome Christmas album would happen.  

          Lizzie Borden lost her folks 

          Gave'em 40 whacks 

          She wants a brand new mom and pop 

          And, of course, an axe 

          (Christmas Rap) 

HAVE YOURSELF A SCARY LITTLE CHRISTMAS finds The Crypt-Keeper singing festive, ghoul-tide ditties to lift your holiday spirits from the dead.  That old bag of bones charms us with songs about decorating with body parts, poisoning his family, a horror-filled wish list and a New Year's Eve party for the recently and long-ago deceased, to name a few cheerful tuneful topics.  It's a heartwarming album for the entire Manson family and yours, if you're not part of the P.C. Police.  

Stockings stuffed with ears and fingers 

Fa-la-la-la-la La-la-la-la 

           Chopped from all those caroling singers 

Fa-la-la-la-la La-la-la-la 

(Deck the Halls with Parts of Charlie) 

This album is not for overly sensitive 21st Century ears.  Consider this your five-alarm trigger-happy warning.  With a few Santa fat jokes and one sly cross-dressing jab at J. Edgar Hoover, there is plenty of material for internet bots to be outraged over.  I could get on my soapbox in the town square to rant about how the human race is censoring itself into oblivion, but it's cold outside.

Anyhoo, before I bury my blog six feet under....Have a Merry Cryptmas and Horrific New Year!  

The champagne flows 

And bubbles pop 

Capote hugs Babe Ruth 

While Lincoln does the bunny hop 

With actor John Wilkes Booth 

(Should Old Cadavers Be Forgot) 

Thank you for reading or listening to my potentially offensive half-blind words.

Freak Out, 

JLH 

P.S. Ho Ho Ho...

~~~~~~~~~~

DARK EXCURSIONS 

(a modern take on gothic romance) 

The perfect gift for the soap nut in your life! 🎁😉 

https://thejlhcollective.blogspot.com/2018/03/dark-excursions-complete-set.html 

Dystopian Future Paranoia (or how The Handmaid's Tale made me the town nutter)

I broke down and purchased a cell phone in June because I needed to be able to stay in touch while dog-sitting in July.  I decided to go with VERIZON because the store is near my home.  I chose the cheapest phone, which was still expensive in my opinion, and the cheapest pre-paid plan, $30, which seemed reasonable.  

The cheapest phone meant limited storage, so I could only choose one extra app and the winner (or loser) was Twitter.  The cheapest pre-paid plan meant limited mobile data, which has been sufficient until this month.  My plan is due on the 14th and I was tweeting a lot over Thanksgiving weekend.  So, I've been rationing out my remaining mobile data over this week.  

Since its December, the month where we celebrate the beloved birth of consumerism, I decided to give myself a gift.  I was going to upgrade my phone plan to the next tier, which is only $5 more, so I'd gain more mobile data.  In my deranged mind, I rationalized it as a business investment.  If I tweet more about my books, maybe I'll consistently find new readers.  Well, it sounded plausible in my head. 

The morning that I walked a few blocks to the VERIZON store, I had finished listening to THE HANDMAID'S TALE by Margaret Atwood.  It's a brilliantly stark, bleak novel that makes the Hulu series seem melodramatic and overly satirical with its goofy music choices.  Anyhoo, the novel really made me reflect on how we are inching closer to some version of a dystopian future.  This was fresh in my mind as I entered the store.

I sat down at the counter and inquired if there would be additional charges if I changed my plan to the next  tier.  The woman behind the counter informed me of the obvious, because I must look like a complete moron, that my monthly payment would increase.  I told her that I knew that, but I wanted to make sure there were no extra fees.  She said there wasn't, so I asked for my plan to be upgraded to the $35 tier.  

She then informed me that the $35 tier was only for customers who have an automatic payment system set up.  The next tier for someone who comes into the store to pay would be $40.  I declined to upgrade and then stated that it's crappy to punish people who pay cash.  That's how I was paying and the clerk knew it because she was there last month and had, at that time, off-handedly stated how she has all of her bills set for automatic withdrawal.  Now she responded with how it's difficult for them to do cash transactions because that means they have to go to the bank and worry about counterfeit bills.  

"I guess The Handmaid's Tale is really going to happen." 

The potentially crazy, conspiracy theory words fell out of my mouth before I could stop them.  She made a confused noise and this inspired my lack of self-censoring to continue. I said that's how it begins.  Forcing us into a cashless society so they can control access to bank accounts on a whim.  

The clerk didn't respond further to my potential crazy.  So, I paid my usual amount and left feeling like a nutter.  This didn't stop me from imagining the clerk as a future Aunt Lydia, believing she knows what's best for everyone.  She would work in a brainwashing center, extolling the virtues of her personal automatic payment beliefs onto the perceived moronic masses.  

As of writing this post, I'm listening to the sequel, THE TESTAMENTS, also by Margaret Atwood.  I probably should have taken a break in between because I slipped down a paranoid rabbit hole when telling my sister about this recent experience...and she didn't disagree and added her own views.  We carried on about our nearing dystopian future, where we will be forced to go cashless and then we will be maneuvered into a single government or corporation banking system.  How would this happen?  It's already started.  

AMAZON is currently silencing the voices of low income individuals.  Customers can no longer leave reviews unless they spend a predetermined amount per month or year with a credit or debit card.  While you can still use AMAZON gift cards, they don't count towards the predetermined amount.  Much like my cell provider, this is how it's going to be accomplished.   Punish the consumer in small, legal ways until we are forced to fall in line.  In a cashless society, stores and sites could start adding surcharges or placing limitations if you're not paying through this bank or that system.  The excuse will be that the stores and sites are protecting our accounts and making payments through a single banking entity would be more convenient for all of us.  We will comply because there will be no choice, having, over time, systematically and freely given up our little freedoms and control to the big corporations.

Crazy talk, right...or is it?  Maybe my concerns are based on a burgeoning reality.  Maybe we are careening towards The Handmaid's Tale future.  Maybe I'm turning into a conspiracy theorist.  Maybe I need to listen to a light, fun e-book.

In conclusion...

I know we can't go back, but we should be more aware going forward. 

Thank you for reading or listening to my half-blind words.  If I fall silent after this post, you will probably find me on the Wall for either being a gender-traitor or a payment-traitor.  Just sayin'. 

Freak Out, 

JLH 

P.S.  This is not my first future paranoia post...

https://freakboyzone.blogspot.com/2017/11/the-flow-of-happiness_28.html

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My books (which are hypocritically available through AMAZON) & blogs (which are through GOOGLE)...

http://thejlhcollective.blogspot.com/2018/03/the-collective.html

NIGHT BIRD (a poem)

Night bird descend 

With a beginning 

And an end

Night bird call 

A summer's love 

And bitter fall 

Night bird cry 

A faded laugh 

And tears run dry

Night bird sing 

A winter's death 

And diminished spring

Night bird depart 

With broken eyes 

And a shattered heart 

________________

Thank you for reading or listening to my half-blind words. 

Freak Out, 

JLH 

P.S. A poem about a last time...

https://freakboyzone.blogspot.com/2019/02/last-drive-half-blind-poem.html 

~~~~~~~~~

It was three years ago this month when I lost a chunk of my vision.

Perhaps it's time for you to see what I can no longer perceive.

VISION BENT

an inspiring journey that won't make you puke.

Book 

getbook.at/VisionBent

e-book 

getbook.at/VBebook‬ 

(The perfect gift for that weird friend who actually enjoys poetry)

The Edge

The following very short story is connected to a short story I wrote in November 2016, a month before losing a chunk of my vision...

The Now

https://freakboyzone.blogspot.com/2016/11/the-now.html 

    He stands alone on the edge of the world.  He had traveled through the fog, losing more than his companion along the way.  Externally battered and bruised from the journey, he collapses onto the barren ground.  Internally drained of hope and desire, he whispers into the emptiness surrounding him. 

    "Where does one go when there is nowhere left to go?"  

    The question drifts through the hollow air, fading away into nothing. 

Thank you for reading or listening to my half-blind words.

Freak Out, 

JLH

P.S.  A different very short story... 

https://freakboyzone.blogspot.com/2019/08/in-shadows-very-short-story.html 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Post-Modern Gothic Romance...

DARK EXCURSIONS

The Internationally-known* Bestseller** is still available to amuse, intrigue and shock!

myBook.to/DarkExcursions 

*by some Americans & a few Europeans 

**compared to my other titles

How to Suck at Real Life: Soup & Sandwich Supposition

I was attending a Veterans Day soup and sandwich fundraiser with my sister and our dad when I got noticed.  This unexpected moment of recognition left me thinking, contemplating, examining and trying to understand myself.  I hate when this happens because it's typically a futile mental exercise without satisfactory conclusions. 

I was in line behind my sister and our dad.  The ham sandwich was already on the red tray gripped in my hands when I stepped up to the soup area.  One of the men dipping up the soups inquired if I wanted chicken noodle or chili, which wouldn't have given me pause but he called me by name.  This is hardly the first time a seeming stranger called me by name, but it's usually uttered by someone my dad's age, so I just assume it's one of his obnoxious cronies.  This man, from what my half-blind eyes could see, was in and around my age. 

I obviously had a perplexed look on my face because he mentioned he remembered me from school.  His voice was unfamiliar so I asked who he was.  My mind went into overdrive upon hearing this man's name, flipping through old mental files, but it was all in vain.  His name didn't register at all. 

I confessed that I didn't remember him.  He said it was okay and then explained he was behind me in grades at school.  I apologized for not remembering and he reiterated it was okay.  I then wandered on to the drinks and desserts area.  I didn't want to hold up the line, and, with my mind reeling, I wanted to find a seat and mentally calm down. 

As I sat there eating my soup and sandwich, and for the rest of the evening, I pondered this experience.  How could someone remember me?  Me?  I'm easily the least interesting and most forgettable person one could encounter in this life.  I don't say this in an "oh whoa is me" fashion.  I state it as cold, stoic belief.  Especially back in the hell of my public school days where I learned I was nothing and was rarely allowed to forget it.  

Then I berated myself for being so awkward during the brief exchange over the cooker of chili.  I played the most dangerous game of "Why didn't I...?"  Why didn't I say something nice or clever?"  I could've said, "Well it's nice to finally meet you."  The answer to this is simple.  I have serious trust issues with the residents of my town.  History has shown me how I don't fit in here and how more often than not, conversations end up being negative, so that's why I don't try anymore.  

I deliver papers with my sister, so I rarely interact with others, if I can avoid it.  I see my dad every so often and I occasionally briefly visit with the librarians, but that's about it on a semi-regular basis.  Most of my interactions, including others I know in real life, are of an online nature.  Tiny digital increments of human companionship to simulate life.  The 21st Century was built for maladjusted folk like me. 

So, in conclusion, this momentary spotlight made me question why I shelter in place, so to speak.  Though, ultimately, it doesn't matter because it's not going to change because I doubt I will change.  I'm hardwired to expect the worst from real life interactions within my small town and I don't know how to reprogram myself.

Thank you for reading or listening to my half-blind words.

Freak Out, 

JLH 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My books & blogs... 

http://thejlhcollective.blogspot.com/2018/03/the-collective.html