I'm having trouble getting another blog entry going. I think it's because the last one I wrote was really hard for me to write. I'm proud of it, but at the same time ... damn. Writing about dead kids kind of left me deflated.
There's something that happens when you become a parent that just leaves you vulnerable to stuff like this, that leaves this little hole in your heart that wasn't there before where new kinds of fears can worm their way in. Perspective permanently altered by instinct and experience. And it's kind of funny the ways it manifests.
For example, I recently caught Poltergeist on TV. Hadn't seen it in many years, although I really enjoyed it when it came out. Good little ghost movie, you know? But seeing it years later, as a parent, is a very different experience. It's acutely uncomfortable at times. Not frightening in a oo-boo-scary way, but ... unsettling. Needless to say, The Exorcist presents similar, though far more effective, challenges.
And it's certainly not limited to horror films. Mystic River cut pretty damn deep, and while it easily ranks among the finest films I've seen in the last 10 years I don't think I can ever watch The Sweet Hereafter again. It was staggeringly powerful the first time, before I had children. I think watching it now could do me actual physical harm.
Mood: Meh
Now Playing: Death Cab for Cutie, "Plans"
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