Who dares to comment on this pointless post?

Dead Cat Helicopter

In the future every corpse will be afforded this dignity.

Audio reading of "The Trials of Ted"

Lori from The Next Best Book Blog reads the tale of a mangled toy:

http://soundcloud.com/tnbbc/the-trials-of-ted-by-s-d

Review of THE END OF THE WICKED CONTEMPLATED BY THE RIGHTEOUS by Jonathan Edwards (Amazon Digital Services, 2011)

Won’t the presence of the damned rotting in Hell spoil Heaven for the saints? To this, legendary Calvinist preacher and theologian Jonathan Edwards answers emphatically, No! Taking his cue from Revelation 18:20 (“Rejoice over her thou heaven, and ye holy apostles and prophets; for God hath avenged you on her.”), Edwards argues that the suffering of the hellish majority will not subtract from the pleasure of the heavenly minority; rather, it will—indeed it must—add to it. And so, with demonic relish, he paints the scene: monoemotive saints—capable of feeling only orgiastic joy—sing praises as they witness the judgment of Hell’s new tenants, those objects of God’s insatiable wrath. Devils rend flesh; Jesus mocks; the saints sing on. To children Edwards issues this terrible threat: “How will you bear to see your parents, who in this life had so dear an affection for you, now without any love for you, approving the sentence of condemnation, when Christ shall with indignation bid you depart, wretched, cursed creatures, into eternal burnings?” Quite simply, the choice is this: watch a never-ending snuff movie or act in it. It’s a dark vision from the mind of America’s premier purveyor of Puritan torture porn.

Review of ABERRATIONS edited by Jeremy C. Shipp (Attic Clown Press, 2011)

From a group of horror writers with an impressive set of combined credentials, this is an inexpensive—and if you’re an Amazon Prime member, free—ebook-only collection of ten original tales, each about monsters, including vengeful children, the ghosts of influenza victims, zombie hordes, a demon coughed up by a cat, a not-so-mythical mothman, and some very black and very hairy things. They’re everywhere, both in places you would expect (mountain caves, dark woods, post-apocalyptic landscapes where the limbs of fallen trees are adorned with dogs and deer) and ones you almost certainly would not (an aging aunt’s frail body, public transport). Guilt, fear, insecurity and violence call them into being. One of my favorite monsters was the one in Scott Nicholson’s “The Hounds of Love,” the story of a sociopathic boy, Dexter, and his dead dog, Turd Factory. For fun, Dexter kills and buries animals of every kind—with unexpected but not entirely unwelcome consequences. Other favorites were the baby finger-eating, blood-belching passengers in Simon Woods’ “Bus People”—whose disgusting descriptions of transmogrifying flesh brought to mind Brian Yunza’s classic movie Society—and the sinister seducer, Peter, in Lisa Tuttle’s “Bug House.” All in all a great read, but let’s hope and pray these aberrations remain in our Kindles and out of [reviewer pulled apart by baby chimps]

Review of SUPER DINOSAUR, VOLUME 1 by Robert Kirkman and Jason Howard (Image Comics, 2011)

Bought as a Christmas present for my son, I couldn’t resist reading this myself. Tapping into many boys’ love for big reptiles and even bigger battles, Super Dinosaur relates the adventures of juvenile genius Derek Dynamo, son of Doctor Dexter Dynamo, and his best friend, the anthropomorphized, weaponized Super Dinosaur (SD for short!), a relatively small, genetically engineered T-Rex who fires missiles frequently, wears gym shorts occasionally and bathes when necessary; but who, despite his bravado, is a sensitive, sometimes lonely soul. Conspiring against this team are black-bearded villain Max Maximus and his band of playfully named dino-men: Tricerachops, Breakeosaurus, Dreadasaurus and others. Conspiring against everyone is The Exile, a sinister figure with a grudge against humanity. As anticipated, the action is almost constant; onomatopoeic explosions crater the pages. The artwork is crisp, the colors bright, the detailed illustrations of SD’s robotic suits and gizmos particularly appealing, and the story touches on some pertinent political and personal concerns—ageing, dementia, bereavement, environmental damage, nuclear war—in a way younger readers will identify with. And it ends with an unexpected twist which will leave them eager for volume two…

Review of TRIBESMEN by Adam Cesare (Ravenous Shadows, 2012)

 

Both a tribute to the cannibal exploitation films of the 1970s/80s—Cannibal Holocaust, Eaten Alive, Cannibal Ferox et al.—and a unique yarn in its own right, this novella, set mainly in an eerily quiet jungle on an unnamed Caribbean island, explores what happens when people suffer for the sake of art, when yelling “cut” is not enough to stop the carnage. The cast of characters, a group attempting to make a cheap B-movie, ranges from the loathsome—Tito Bronze, racist sleazebag and director of “blood and beaver pictures”—to the loveable—Cynthia, a timid actress who finds her courage. The story is brisk and precisely plotted. Each chapter switches to a different character’s point of view, heightening the tension and creating a very cinematic feel. And unlike a great deal of genre fiction, this doesn’t overstay its welcome; the whole thing can be read in one long sitting. Horror fans, especially, will find a lot here to please the palate: skinned corpses, maidens on stakes, anatomically twisted natives whose speech sounds like bad dubbing, a pig-head hat, good old fashioned people-eating and, most importantly, a memorably hair-raising finale that will whet their appetite for whatever dish, human or not, Cesare cooks up next.