Thursday, September 10, 2009

Neil Gaiman's Coraline



As is often the case, the book was far superior to the movie. While brilliantly animated (and presented in 3-D), Director Henry Selick's 2009 release of Coraline failed to capture the essence of the masterfully-crafted story by Neil Gaiman. In spite of the valiant efforts of powerkid Dakota Fanning, and the "Desperate" Teri Hatcher, the film fell flat for me, even before I had something to compare it to.


While Selick's screenplay left me feeling as though adults had toiled feverishly in order to appeal to a child-like perspective, Gaiman's original work effortlessly transported me to a sacred place of wonder and amazement, often only inhabited by the very young and imaginative. In my humble opinion, there is almost nothing worse than grown-ups who bend over backward in order to appear "cool" to the younger generation. Either you're cool or you aren't -- and if you aren't, no amount of research on playground lingo can help you. Fortunately for all the readers out there, young and not-so-young, Neil Gaiman is incredibly cool.



Neil Gaiman
is also incredibly English. Although he now lives in the United States, much of his work is full of delicious British colloquialisms, and overall, bears a decidedly English flavour. When I read his work, I imagine everyone speaking like Oliver Twist, even before I've been instructed by the author to do so. Unfortunately, none of this flavour comes through in the motion picture, as the production was highly Americanized in order to appeal to wallets of the west. Teri Hatcher couldn't have produced a believable British accent if her parents were Winston Churchill and Margaret Thatcher!



Interspersed throughout the book's 162 pages is a collection of illustrations by Dave McKean. The drawings are not what one would normally expect to find within a children's book, which is much of what makes them so incredible. Rendered in a ragged, sketchy style, many of the images are downright frightening -- perfect accompaniments to Gaiman's enchanting tale of secret doors, lost children, and a fearsomely-wicked woman. One thousand heartfelt thank-you's to Karswell for gifting me with this delightfully-quirky book!



"We are small but we are many
We are many we are small

We were here before you rose

We will be here when you fall..."


Friday, September 4, 2009

The Stalking Doom (1954)



When Derek Layne's wealthy aunt Clara cuts him off for being a booze-swilling disappointment, the young actor decides to speed up the old woman's death clock and cash in on the inheritance she has promised him. What Derek fails to factor into his murderous plan is the spinster's cat, Saki, who is sworn to protect her mistress -- even from beyond the grave!

This purrrfect paralyzer, courtesy of the Karswell longboxes, comes from Amazing Ghost Stories #15, published in December, 1954. Be sure to savour the surprise ending! Rock!








Wherever Derek turns, the cat's blazing eyes haunt him...
He knows Saki is stalking him...

Awaiting the moment of revenge...



Sunday, August 16, 2009

Cauldron: Brewing Pure Canadian Metal



Cauldron Live @ BarNone
August 15, 2009
Kingston, Ontario


One of the coolest live metal shows I ever witnessed featured dueling guitarists who traded instruments in the midst of a face-melting riff. The band was Goat Horn, and their t-shirt design (comprised of a one-horned goat inside a pentagram) summed up the spirit of the band better than any rock reviewer ever could.

Fast-forwarding a couple of years: Goat Horn has split up, and bassist/lead vocalist Jason Decay is now touring with Cauldron, along with bandmates Ian Kilpatrick (guitar), and Chris Rites (drums, replacing Al Chambers, who is now playing with Toxic Holocaust).

So, how does Cauldron compare to Goat Horn? T-shirt designs aren't quite as cool, but the solos are better, even without the slick switch-up. The feathered mullets, snakeskin guitar inlay, and black-and-white high-top sneakers will have you convinced you just stepped into a time machine bound for 1985.




Dio rules!

Friday, August 14, 2009

Tapestry (タペストリー)



I sincerely hope you didn't eat too much Meow Mix for breakfast this morning, as I have a special, Friday treat! After spending the last eight minutes and fifty-three seconds in dumbfounded awe of this beautifully visceral piece of YouTube meat, I found myself overwhelmed by the compulsion to share it with cat fanciers here at Killer Kittens From Beyond The Grave.

Tapestry (タペストリー) is an animated horror short, brilliantly crafted by illustrator/animator Kenny Wynne, dealing with: "the issues of war, peace and the effects they have on one person's mind." Admittedly, it was the collection of sinister pussycats which completely sold me on this stunning example of video art.





Watch as your future is torn to shreds!


Thursday, August 13, 2009

Brenda Ann Spencer: "The silicon chip inside her head gets switched to overload..."


Brenda Ann Spencer fired 36 rounds from a semi-automatic rifle through her bedroom window at a bustling schoolyard on January 29, 1979. Her shooting spree left two adults dead, and another nine people wounded (eight of them children). The rifle had been a Christmas present from her father, Wallace Spencer.

Amid the six and a half hour standoff, which eventually led to her arrest, she was asked what had compelled her to do such an unfathomably horrible thing. Young Brenda, only 16 years old at the time of the shootings, provided an equally horrifying response: "I don't like Mondays. This livens up the day."

Like many people my age, my first exposure to the life and crimes of Brenda Ann Spencer came courtesy of the highly popularized song by The Boomtown Rats. Singer/songwriter Bob Geldof had been in the midst of giving a radio interview when news of the tragedy came through on a Telex machine. Although the song has become a Monday morning radio classic across the globe, it is important to remember that it all began with a messed-up young woman, a telescopic rifle, and the haunting phrase which has since become ensconced in popular culture.

Today (August 13, 2009), Brenda Ann Spencer will sit before a roomful of legal officials as she has a number of times before, to request parole from the California Institution for Women, where she has been incarcerated for the last 3 decades.

While Brenda has, in recent years, provided a somewhat clearer explanation for her terrible crimes than her initial 'Mondays' claim, it doesn't look like this broad is getting out of the Big House any time in the near future. Still very clearly detatched from what she did on that frosty morning back in '79, she claims to remember very little about what transpired that day, and nothing at all about the actual shootings. "I don't remember, but I'm sure that I did it."

Update (08/13/09 @ 10:15 PM): Sorry, Brenda -- looks like you'll be eating fruit cocktail for at least another decade. Better luck next time.

The silicon chip inside her head

Gets switched to overload
And nobody’s gonna go to school today
She’s gonna make them stay at home
And daddy doesn’t understand it
He always said she was good as gold
And he can see no reasons
Cos there are no reasons
What reason do you need to be shown?




Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Jucifer... Live.


Warning: This Show is NOT Suitable for Epileptics

The first time I saw Jucifer play, I was astounded. Going on the advice of a couple of friends who said I "had to" see them live, I conducted none of my own research, and therefore had no idea what to expect. I was completely unprepared. In retrospect, I should have taken along earplugs, sunglasses, and a sturdy chair to steady myself against.

Backed by a retina-dazzling light show, and a literal "wall of sound," Jucifer is comprised of lead vocalist/guitar virtuosa Amber Valentine, and psychopathic beat monger Edgar Livengood. At first glance, the pair appear to be almost certainly insane. Upon second glance, all suspicions are confirmed.

Their songs were brilliantly woven into one massive orchestral noise arrangement, thus sparing their audience the trouble of deciding how best to react to something so frightfully moving. Somehow, applause does not seem appropriate. Valentine and Livengood storm through their set, each of them completely lost in the gruelling performance. Guitar Girl Goddess Valentine twists, leaps, and writhes (in a dress and heels), while Livengood engages in a heated verbal exchange with an unseen antagonist as he beats his drum kit with his bare fists. Clearly, this is some wild, heavy shit.

Jucifer's performance is an art which eludes capture, as their studio recordings bear little resemblance to the live experience. As the Jucifer.com bio proclaims: "See them while you can still get close enough to be spit on." Just be sure to bring your earplugs. And sunglasses. And a sturdy chair to steady yourself against.







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Jucifer Live in North Carolina (January, 2009)

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

The Cry of Satan (1952)



Beware The Cry of Satan! A horrid, heart-stopping sound, heard by those whose lives are soon to end! When well-meaning Edgar forges a plot to bring his sister Delfina's foul witchery to an end, he brings upon himself a terrible curse that bestows tragedy upon his family. For even with his evil sister out of the way, poor Edgar still finds himself unable to escape that deadly harbinger... The Cry of Satan!

Let the gruesome tale below, filled with witchcraft and shape-shifting beasts, serve as a reminder not to mess with a cat lady -- or her hair!!! Inked by Moe Marcus, this hair-rowing tale, from Tomb of Terror #3 (a bona fide classic, dating back to August, 1952), was contributed by Karswell, the Master of Pre-Code Horror Comics, and kind benefactor of Killer Kittens From Beyond The Grave.






Nighty Night



Nighty Night



I came across this absoloutely darling piece in my travels last night. The artist, Grace Weston, specializes in "photography, staged vignettes, and photo illustration." Her online portfolio features delightfully intriguing works, ranging from whimsical childhood tableaus to vengeful forest creatures, with a monster or two thrown in for good measure.

Don't close your eyes, Little Boy... if you do, they're going to get you!

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Reiko the Zombie Shop (2005)



"The Zombie Shop opens the eyes of the dead,
lets them speak their final truths, and,
most importantly, gets paid!"


Reiko Himezono is not your average teenage girl. Behind her beautiful, heavily-lashed eyes exists a talent so powerful that she is able to charge people large sums of money just to behold it. You see, Reiko has a direct line to Satan himself, who assists her in her mission to "zombify" the dead in order to settle unfinished business in the land of the living. Reiko Himezono... the Zombie Shop!

In most of the cases Reiko is involved with, the zombies-to-be have recently died under suspicious circumstances. Mysterious suicides, decaying rock stars, abused children -- she's seen it all, and when the bloodthirsty zombies she awakens come to un-life, she handles the corpse-raising situations that ensue with an irresistible sense of pure, unaffected cool. Each of Reiko's diabolical adventures ominously lead to her final, bloody battle against Saki Yurikawa, the butchering Big Sister.

Once I began reading this speedily-paced collection of diabolical tales (published by Dark Horse Manga), I couldn't put the book down! Panel after panel of Rei Mikamoto's stunning artwork is as gory as it is gorgeous. Thanks to the astoundingly generous Karswell of The Horrors of it All, I was able to enjoy, scan, and now present here at Killer Kittens From Beyond The Grave a sampling of this work which is so dazzling and disgusting, sickening and seductive...


Reiko the Zombie Shop: Act I
Remember to read the panels Tokyo-style, from right to left!















Thursday, June 25, 2009

Michael Jackson Dead at 50




Say what you will about what he's been doing for the last 20 years, Michael Jackson's THRILLER shaped me...

Not only did I watch the very life out of my special edition VHS tape when I was a little kitty, but I also seem to recall making a play-by-play voice over on my boom box to go along with the THRILLER View Master set that I had. My audio accompaniment came complete with spooky narration, sound effects, and even a gentle reminder to change out the slides when appropriate.

At 3:15 pm today, the Los Angeles Times confirmed reports that Jackson had passed away from a heart attack after being rushed to hospital earlier this afternoon.

Michael Jackson truly lived his life as an ode to the unusual. I wonder if he plans on sharing a coffin with the Elephant Man's bones?



Friday, May 15, 2009

Arcanifacts: Ensanguined Tatters





In honour of my birthday (4/22), I received a very strange and unusual package from Karswell Manor...

My pulse quickened, and my blood ran ice cold when I first laid eyes upon this most curious artifact. Fashioned in the image of the Blessed Virgin, this vessel once contained Holy Water. Now, it holds the "Ensanguined tatters from Justine's shroud." An inverted cross dangles above the blood-soaked cloth within; a warning that the vessel's seal is never to be broken, lest the wrath of Alucarda's lover be awakened once again from her undead slumber. The fragrant sealing wax barely masks the pungent stench of the grave, and the vessel radiates a strange energy I have never before encountered.

I daren't even ponder the fiendish secrets that linger within, hungrily awaiting release...


"Ensanguined tatters from Justine's shroud."


The creator of this stunning piece of horror fancy is award-winning artist and author Scott D. Ryersson, the mastermind behind Arcanifacts which, loosely translated, means secret thing made. Ryersson set up shop in 2007 "to further explore his artistic obsessions with the arcane and phantasmagorical."

After seeing photographs of the arcanifact Ryersson produced for Karswell based on Night of the Demon, I was excited to learn that THOIA's spooktacular host had commissioned one for me, as well. Eagerly I awaited my gift, knowing nothing about it other than the Alucarda theme, and that a portion of the piece had come from Guadalajara, Mexico.

The ensanguined tatters from Justine's shroud now sit proudly beneath Alucarda's portrait, adding a touch more malevolence to my living room.