Hacking Made Easy!

I know, I know. It’s not October. And there is no Halfway to Halloween celebration on Hallmark like there is a Christmas in July. Let’s be honest, Friday the 13th doesn’t exist simply in the 31 days leading up to All Hallows Eve. I do, however, want to talk – albeit briefly – about the macabre in these near Ides of May.  

If you don’t know me then you might not be aware of my nearly neurotic obsession with the horror genre. If you know my family, you’ll know that they are not apart from old black and white Sci-Fi gems with gorilla-suited aquanauts and things that come from another world.  

So, where did this appreciation come from? This is an interesting story. 

I would love to say that I was there from the beginning of the Freddy Krueger and Jason Voorhees’ killer reputations, but that would be a lie. I was only 4 when Freddy invaded those unsuspecting teen’s dreams. And only mere months into existing when Camp Crystal was turned into Camp Blood. It was a few years later before I would watch these films ad nauseum.  

I vaguely recollect going to a video store on a pretty regular basis – REMEMBER THOSE!? This was no brick-and-mortar Blockbuster... which would eventually employ me... This was the pinnacle of mom-and-pop shops. Pic-A Flick! (At least, I think that’s how it’s spelled...) 

It was a time when you could not only get VHS tapes for a small fee, but you could also bring home those cute little Betamax cassettes. There was one time when we paid an exorbitant amount of money for a recently released copy of Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit for a stinking 20 bucks! 

I digress… I get excited about physical media. Sue me. 

I did this over and over-- I would rent the original Friday the 13th. I would slip it into the video player. I would tremble and be frightened by the gore and frequent murders present on screen. I would return the video and ask for more for some stupid reason.  

Roller coasters are cool, right? Same for horror I suppose.  

Years later, there was a friend through our parents and church who would bring me back to what once scared me. She loved Warrant and Ugly Kid Joe. I loved that she was older and could “teach me” things. She took me back to camp. This time Jason was dead at the bottom of the lake. A crazy girl with psychokinetic powers would raise Jason from his watery grave on one specific Friday. I was still frightened but mostly intrigued.  

That was the sixth Friday... at what point do we just not go near this specific body of water? Worst case scenario, there are like three on the calendar in one year. Come on! Be smart, people.  

My parents loved me, but they loved my brother more. He was the first in our house to own a TV other than the shared “family” TV!  And for what? Because he was their firstborn? Cause he was nine and one-half years older than me? That’s ludicrous.  

Anywho... 

We would stay up till all hours of the night watching all kinds of stuff. Kids in the Hall. Friday Night Videos. Baywatch Nights.   

For some reason, Fox TV in our area would show one extremely specific Friday the 13th. This one was in 3D! The original theatrical version would thrill those in the room with machetes flying toward your face in not one or two dimensions. This time, it was the third.  

On TV, it was... less than horrifying. Jason would stab toward the audience, but we were protected by the thick glass of the screen. You could practically hear the light THWANK as it hit. I should have been turned off by these, even then, out-of-date effects. I was simply enamored. Somehow, through these random events, I became a lifelong fan. Not just of Tommy and anyone trying to put a disabled, mentally strained train of an Oedipal mess. I wanted to know everything I could with anyone who could kill someone and hold my attention. In no particular order.  

I am the proud owner of the entire boxed set. All 12! As uncut and violent as they are, I slip them out of their artistically designed cardboard box and put them, one by one, each after the next, into my Blu-ray player and “relax.” I relish each and every single one of the series’ 196 kills in its body count.  

Also, why can they not work out rights issues between all involved? It’s criminal that there are only 12 and not 13?!?!? 

Now that I think about it, it’s not that interesting of a story. But hopefully,  I’ve kept your attention and entertained you for a few minutes.  

What else is there to say?  

May these May days be filled with spring showers and less Voorhees- fueled rampages through the camp counselors of Crystal Lake. May those that have been murdered on screen rest in peace… or pieces… at least for a few more months. When October rolls around? All is fair in love and counseling.  

 ~ Brandon L. Joyner