"Remember, Tommy, this next serve is mine. Muss my tennis vest with your wild swing again, and I'll lock you in the basement. Now who's mommy's little minion?"
(This is proof that exercising in sweaters will only lead to heatstroke and cheerful madness.)
Ah yes, who doesn't love a minion or need one? One could argue that children would make ideal minions, but no, as a responsible parent you must raise them to be independent and differentiated from you. Minions need to be subservient and useful, not filled with their own opinions and agenda. They need to be able to facilitate your plan for world domination without giving a second of consideration to whether it's a good plan or not. Minions are with you day and night, rain or shine, jail sentence or not. Frankly, I need twenty of 'em, but they're still on back-order.
Although my minion dreams are still unatainable, I had a small ray of minion hope in my life recently. (let the excitement build...) I was awarded the prestigious Minions of Misery Award! The award is the brainchild of Anne Michaud and Angela Addams, two brilliant authors. The recipient of the award must do the following: recommend a dark book, suggest a dark movie and admit one dark secret to their blog readers. Then the MoMA must be passed on to three other deserving bloggers. Muahahahahaha!
Colin Barnes was the previous MoMA winner who tagged me. You can read his dark musings here and claim that I'm "secretly very dark behind all that baking and craft work." It's true, of course. All you have to do is read my stories to catch a glimpse of it. (Mom, close your eyes.)
So without further ado, here are my dark recommendations:
Drood is based on the autobiographical events surrounding Charles Dickens in the final dark days of his life. I think I had a permanent case of goosebumps the entire time I was reading it. Imagine the thick fog clogging the twisting alleyways of Victorian London as we follow Dickens and his growing obsession with mystery of Edwin Drood. The reader can never see too far ahead to anticipate what awaits around the corner. I admit that I had to put the book down periodically so I could go take a walk outside in the sunshine to combat the haunting dread that overwhelmed me.
Drood is the name and nightmare that obsesses Charles Dickens for the last five years of his life. On June 9, 1865, Dickens and his mistress are secretly returning to London, when their express train hurtles over a gap in a trestle. All of the first-class carriages except the one carrying Dickens are smashed to bits in the valley below. When Dickens descends into the that valley to confront the dead and dying, his life will be changed forever. And at the core of that ensuing five-year nightmare is Drood.
Guillermo del Toro (writer and director of Pan's Labyrinth) summarized it best. "A dazzling journey through a crooked, gaslit labyrinth and a tenebrous portraiture of the tortured minotaurs that dwell within. Genius is the true mystery, and its edge - the abyss." It was this quote that sold me on the book. How could I resist a man who used the words tenebrous AND minotaur in the same sentence? (I have a soft spot for minotaurs.)
This movie scares the ever-living-snot out of me every time I see it. Yet I still want to watch it again. (By peeking through the cracks in my fingers as they cover my eyes.) I generally avoid scary movies, but this movie is so perfect in its balance of suspense and horror that I'm unable to resist. The Shining is a mind-bender full of ghosts, madness and an evil presence that haunts the Overlook Hotel. The novel by Stephen King is also damn spectacular, but it was Stanley Kubrick's cinematic vision that took this story to the heights of dark cinema. Plus, we can all relate to writer's block being slightly maddening. Right?
And finally, there's my dark secret. I had to give this some thought, because my secret list is long. Too long for this entry, as a matter of fact. (Mom, close your eyes again.) I don't want to horrify anyone unduly, so I'll start of slowly.
My dark secret is that I enjoy fresh Cheetos straight out of the bag. AND I lick my fingers afterwards. Now, if you've read my blog, you know that I'm a bit of a food snob. So you'll understand just how hard it is for me to admit that. I LOVE Cheetos.
Sigh.
I really, really do.
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