SPOOKS.

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Anti-Christ
Kanye West is the Anti-Christ.

That's a bold statement, but a screaming ghost claims it's true. That damned haint. He's been locked inside my apartment for almost two years now. He makes me see spiders and he looks like a homeless man in a faceless, blue horse costume. I saw him dancing in the reflection of the TV screen late one night. Sure, it might have been my imagination, but this was well before I sat down and watched Ringu. Ever since, he's been terrorizing my sleepless nights with bold shenanigans that are, truth be told, quit harmless. Turning on the TV. Knocking sh*t over. Creating horrifying mirages that appear to dance across the living room wall. Most of the time, he's pretty quiet. Except when I leave for long periods of time, and then come back home. He hates that. A few months ago, I'd fallen asleep after an extended journey away from Burbank. That mean bitch pressed hard on my kidney, and I couldn't pull myself from couch cushions. Then, when I finally screamed in audible consciousness, the thing ushered the ghost of Ernest Borgnine into my bathroom, and I, honest to God, heard the man's MARTY speech humming from the rim of the porcelain toilet…

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My Nighttime Haint!
"No, ma…I don't want to go to the Stardust Ballroom, because all that ever happened to me there was girls made me feel like I was a bug. I got feelings, you know? I've had enough pain. I'm going to stay home tonight and watch the Hit Parade. Because I'm just a fat little man. A fat, ugly little man. I'M UGLY, I'M UGLY, I'M UGLY! Ma, leave me alone…"

Suffice it to say, I was scared speechless. The following evening, I had a talk with a new friend of mine. Someone that has studied and understands this witchy, spook-show type of sh*t. She told me to leave it cookies, or calmly talk to it before leaving the house for lapsed days at a time. I took her advice. Not about the cookies. I personally feel that, no matter how hard they try; ghosts just aren't able to eat solid food. If I left it a plate of deliciousness, like cake or something, it would probably get even madder than it already is. It would think I was taunting it. And punch on my kidney some more. Not to mention, if it did eat whatever snack I'd graciously left out, I'd be shocked into a hazy coma. I'd probably vomit. I don't need that. So, basically, for the last month or so, I've told the ghost every time I'm about to leave the house for an extended period. "Bye, Spooky Joe Johnston, Mr. Borgnine enthusiast. I'll be gone for three days. See you later."

Well, up until now, it's worked. He "haint" misbehaved no more. Until the other night, that is. Usually, when I come home, and get my Internet work done, I then sit down and watch a movie or two. Monday night, I'd been out cavorting around town. Doing the usual, you know? Drinking a bucket of booze, letting my lame persona get the better of me. Everyone else went home with their honery girlfriends. I went to K-Mart and picked up, not only the Greatest American Hero Season One box set, but also Tremors 4. (Because I really liked Part 3.)

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Michael Gross in Tremors 4!

Ghosts like it!

I situated myself in front of Micheal Gross and his semi-new Western Horror flick (I think it came out a couple of months ago; I'm not sure). As with all the Tremors films, the first part was a bit slow and boring. I started to drift into a tiny, tight little slumber land where the girl of my dreams was now the girl dancing naked in front of me. It was a twilight sleep, the kind they dose you with during a colonoscopy. I was in one second, out the next. My attention span missed huge chunks of ugly exposition. Eventually, I decided to turn off the TV. I'd continue watching the film later on in the evening; whenever I woke up from this much needed late-night catnap. Well, the ghost didn't like that at all. He screamed the most gut-wrenching, vomitous roar into my left ear I'd ever heard. In all honesty, it scared the living (poop) out of my yellow innards.

I knew immediately what the problem was. The spook was pissed that I'd turned the show off at the midway point. He wanted to keep watching, and I'd rudely ripped away the only pleasure he'd had in a week. I'm telling you the honest to God truth. He was mad that I'd turned off Tremors 4.

What?

My shoebox spook likes Tremors 4? What the Hell is that about? I mean, it's not a very good movie. Sure, I liked the first three. Michael Gross kicks it home every time, but in this new effort, he plays Bert Gummer's distant relative, a pacifist. Westerns never look very convincing on the cheap, and this flick is no exception. It needs more creature time, and less character development. Of course Bert's great grandfather is going to be a wuss. Of course we're going to see him evolve into a man's man. A mean freedom fighter with a taste for bullets and guns. That's a given. I honestly thought it was going to be a bit more fun. An hour in, I didn't care if I ever finished watching it. But my ghost was swept up in the proceedings. He must have been. Do you know how much energy it takes for a free-floating spirit to form an audible sound that's detectible to the human ear? According to George Norie, a lot. It would be the equivalent of you or me picking up an SUV with our bare hands and lifting it over our heads. Yes, in a state of panic, such as the car landing on a small child, we might be able to do this. So, obviously, the ghost had declared the interruption of Tremors 4 a dire emergency.

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The Next Roger Ebert
I don't blame him. At all. He's here, now, because I was playing with a Ouija board on the kitchen floor. He arrived, moved that plastic piece around, and then forgot to take the bus ride home, just like Jesus at the end of that Hippie Musical. His door closed up, just like the portholes in Time Bandits. His little ectomorphic tunnel disappeared. My studio apartment has become his prison cell. Since he can't cook food on his own, or flip through magazines, his only form of entertainment is either watching me jack-off to the Suicide Girls, watching me try to complete two push-ups without collapsing, or watching whatever horrible DVD I've decided to stick in my spinner.

This asshole has scared me so bad on occasion, I'm afraid to get the Ouija board back out of the closet. Who knows what I might usher in next? With my luck, I'll get Hitler and Gandhi, and they'll scream a never ending argument across my moldy bathroom tiles. It will be like working with Bob and Karl on a Tuesday night. (Phuk) that. So, suffice it to say, I've never really spoken to my ghost on a personal level. I'm lost when it comes to his taste in film.

Judging from his primeval utterance the other night, my evening viewing has weaned his appetite toward the bizarre and crappy $4 bargain buys you find sitting underneath the good stuff at Amoeba Records. It got me thinking, especially about this weekend's box office. People like a good scary movie. They like ghost stories, otherwise Ring 2: Electric Spooky Jew wouldn't have risen to the top of the crop. It did peek at number one. Hmm, I wonder what kind of movies the poltergeists like? I'd never really thought about it before.

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Dhavermas is a mouthful.
I decided to conduct a little experiment. But that was before I did something stupid. Yeah, I left all four Tremors movies spinning in my ten disc player. On repeat. For the entire weekend. I didn't realize at the time I'd locked the door and headed out on some loose drinking binge that this just might drive the ghost insane. I mean, Tremors non-stop for 3 straight days. I'd eventually kill myself. Mr. Eternal Damnation doesn't have that option. When I got back to my tiny house, food was strewn everywhere. The place was a mess. It looked like the work of rats, or really big mice. But I've never had a rodent problem. I knew my spook was pissed off. I guess I won't be doing that again. Poor fellow, I need to buy him one of those machines that hold 100 DVDs at a time.

Thing is, I've turned a lot of movies off halfway through, and haven't heard a whisper about it. Except for a couple of weeks ago, when I was watching an episode of Wonder Falls. I bought the set because I heard it was created by the same dude that wrote the Showtime Series Dead Like Me. I loved that show, so I took a blind buy chance. Wonder Falls is alright. Jaye is super hot, and I want to hump her. But the successive run of episodes hasn't really lathered me into a frenzy. I'm okay with continuing each individual experience into the next day. Ol' Spooky Joe wasn't, though. This wasn't the first time I'd heard him make an actual sound, but it was the first time a ripping throat thrust was pushed into the air upon switching off that Television.

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Humans like The Ring Two,

but what do spooks like...

At the time, I wrote it off as a prank. I just figured the bastard was trying to frighten me right before bedtime. You know, give me nightmares. Now I realize he just wanted to finish watching his new favorite program. Stupid jerk probably has the hots for Caroline Dhavernas. I know that I'd like to pop the top off her muffin.

Anyway, this has been declared the year of the horror film. So, in the interest of Movieweb and its readers, me and my spook have decided to run the gamut and play a little game. "WHAT MOVIES DO GHOSTS LIKE?" I realize that, like with any entity, it's all subjective. Spirits have individual tastes, and this see-through specter does not speak for all of his otherworldly friends. We already know that he digs Tremors 4. And he loves the cancelled TV show Wonder Falls. But that he's not really up for a non-stop Tremors Marathon.

Here's a list of films and TV shows that I showed him. And his reactions…

Sideways: He started screaming halfway through, before I could shut it off. He didn't like it at all.

The Ring (American Version): Hated it! Left black, moldy smudges near the light switch.

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Ghosts love The Bunch!
Ringu: The ghost was non-responsive. I'm not sure he can read subtitles.

The Brady Bunch: Loved it. Screams every time I turn it off.

Wonder Shozen: The ghost's favorite new TV program. He thinks it's funny. I told you he had a sick sense of humor.

End of the Century: I've since woken up to the Ramones playing on the stereo in the kitchen. The one he sometimes turns on with his electromagnetic pulses. He liked it.

Fat Albert: The ghost was non-responsive.

Clone Wars: I left it in the DVD player. He turned everything back on shortly after I'd turned everything off. He loves this cartoon.

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Haint gonna like it.
Shark Tale: The Godzilla figure sitting on the stove top kept falling off while I tried to watch this. Eventually I stopped the DVD and put in a copy of Godzilla S.O.S. The figure remained unfettered for the rest of the evening.

Godzilla S.O.S.: Loved it.

Poltergeist: Sh*t was spinning around the room, and lights were blinking on and off. I'm pretty sure this is his Titanic. This is his Gone With the Wind. For whatever personal reasons, he loved the sh*t out of this movie.

Smokey and the Bandit: Hated it.

Smokey and the Bandit II: He seemed to like the elephant.

The Simple Life 2: Loathed it. A light bulb exploded in the bathroom. Scared the piss out of me.

Star Wars Episode IV: The ghost was non-responsive.

Arthur 2, On the Rocks: He loved it.

Oh, God Book II: The oven started sparking. And the toilet flushed by itself. Not sure what that means.

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My spooks favorite actress!
Fools Rush In (with Mathew Perry from Friends): I haven't been able to find the DVD since I showed it to him. He's hiding it. I think he's mad at Mathew Perry.

Cheerleader Ninjas: Loved it. This spook has weird taste.

Finally, I showed him two fans favorites…

Lord of the Rings Trilogy: The ghost disappeared for a long time after this was over. I think he might have drifted into a coma.

The Incredibles: What can I say, he loved it. I personally can't stand the film, but I guess if every geek and ghost likes it, it must be good. F*cking bastard. I thought he was going to side with me on this one. That ghost aint no friend of mine.

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My Spook!
I know it's not a very comprehensive list. I have an editorial deadline, and that's all the DVDs I could make it through. At least, now, you have a little bit of an idea about this particular Ghost's tastes when it comes to Entertainment. What kind of stuff he likes, and doesn't like. Hopefully, I've been able to inspire him and keep his spirits up while trapped in this fleshly dimension. Maybe someday, a ghost will even be considered for an Academy Award.

Who knows?

The Haint and I (gosh, that should be the title of some 1815 old-timey novel; don'tcha think) have been getting along fairly well since my little experiment. I hadn't heard a peep out of him until I started writing this article. I went to take a (dooket), and was reading Blender Magazine. That's when I felt a breeze drift over my shoulder. The page on my lap turned smoothly. It revealed a picture of a particular Rap sensation. That's when I heard it, "Kanye West is the Anti-Christ."

That goddamn ghost insists it's true. He formed thick, solid words, so you know it must hold some validity.

Maybe Fools Rush In does suck. And maybe Kanye is the Anti-Christ. For now, I'd like to turn my attentions away from the Supernatural. Hopefully, humans will again reign at the box office sometime in the near future. Until then, we'll let the spooks have their weekend.

"Now get out of my face!"

Dont't forget to also check out: The Ring Two