Been reading Danny Peary's Cult Movie Guides (volumes 2 and 3) again, and I won't sleep tonight. Wonderful books-- plot synopsis of films from the classically cultish (A Clockwork Orange) to the utterly obscure (Basket Case). Out of print, and the last volume came out in the 80's... but great. Each entry has a complete synopsis (with "spoilers") down one side and an intelligent essay that critques/appreciates/ discusses the film and/or its audience, making it easy to understand even if, like me, you haven't seen most of them.

Which means you get the incidents of The Wicker Man (i hope i don't click on the link i just made) and a few stills of children in frightening masks, and that and the reputation fills in the rest of the details. And you read the synopsis, everything boiled down to its essense, the accumlation of details leading to some twistd climax so that even Some Like It Hot is fraught with peril and the head from Zardoz is frightening, not funny.

There is a window across from your bed, with a curtain over it. Outside your room the kitchen is dark. Your computer could not connnect to the Internet. This scares you; you need connection; you try not to think how a filmmaker would use the white iMac screen, this dark room, your parents sleeping a few feet away. You try not to think about how scared you used to get as a kid, shivering in the dark.

You wish your bedside reading was more then Ulysses or And the Ass Saw Angel, and you hope you fall asleep before 3, and you hope you do not and wake up with nightmares. You have class at 9:00 tommorow, you must be up at 7, and you are always late. It is creating art, the class, so you usually spend it in a strange daze. Tonight will probably not be an exception.