One of the first historical references to a “Wicker Man” came from Julius Ceasar, but the myth building that solidified the story of the ominous Wicker Man in popular consciousness was a 1973 horror flick starring Christopher Lee. Radiohead recreated the plot of this classic movie in their Chris Hopewell-directed stop-motion music video for their new song “Burn the Witch.”
Jeremy Saulnier, who made waves in independent film with 2013’s Blue Ruin, is back again with Green Room, a perfectly paced horror-thriller. The monsters and scenarios in Green Room are so chilling because they’re familiar and realistic. Saulnier achieved this by ramping up some of the fear-inspiring experiences he had as a young punk scene kid.
This stunning image of The Pillars of Star Creation was taken in 2014 by Hubble Telescope’s Wide Field Camera 3, which was installed in 2009. What you’re looking at is interstellar matter (known as elephant trunks) and gas, which are like incubators for new stars. They were located in the Eagle Nebula, 6,500-7,000 light years from Earth.
In early morning chill of December 6, 1959 Dr. Harold Perelson was found unresponsive at his sprawling 2475 Glendower Place home. He was lying in his blood-soaked bed next his wife Lillian, who he had just bludgeoned to death with a ball-peen hammer. The doctor had attempted to murder his 18-year-old daughter Judye as well, but she survived his blows. Even with a massive head wound Judye was able to crawl up the backyard steps.
The song didn’t sound right. But something about it did, still.
My first grade physical education class gave us the option of sitting out most days. Since I preferred to use that time to escape into other worlds, this was a boon for me. There was another reason I loved sitting on the bleachers during P.E.: there was a young girl who would often volunteer to play with my hair. The sensation this caused in me was like any other. It was comfort and warmth, but it was also a physical tingling that I felt below the surface of my skin. It was the most relaxing thing on Earth.
You sent me a message on Facebook out of nowhere. It was a regular afternoon. I was doing nothing, feeling nothing, just enjoying not being at work, not being anywhere or doing anything. But all this nothingness evaporated when I got the message. Time stopped, then buckled in, turning now into a living memory.
Harvey, a 1950 film based on a play by Mary Chase that beat out The Glass Menagerie for a Pulitzer Prize, has a lot to say about how we live our lives. Some of the wisdom in Harvey does ring true, but much of it is bathed in a gauzy romanticism.
During the summer of 1952, a rapist stalked the L.A. nights. Over 25 women were sexually assaulted and robbed in the same area during a three-month period, so the LAPD organized a complicated sting. On July 30, 1952 Florence Coberly, a 26-year-old officer, served as a decoy to tempt the offender, and it worked. Soon after the above photo was shot, another was taken of the alleged serial rapist dead on the ground.
We reacted right away when Columbine happened, spinning every stray hair of a rumor into a tapestry of explanation. A crisis like that draws us in, makes us nearer to the now. It rattles us where we are usually numb. It reorients our world for a time. We stare down humanity, searching every eye to find either a brother or a monster. People are a mix of those things, but we want an either/or. A definitive separator feels good, draws a clear line between monsters and humans.