Hoo-boy. This whole “let’s blog everyday for Halloween” thing is starting to wear me down a bit. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but right now I’m beginning to feel like Garraty in the novel The Long Walk, by Richard Bachman (Stephen King’s pseudonym).
Speaking of ol’ Stevie King...
No, not that idjit...
(Although, truth be told, the image of America in The Long Walk is probably not that far off from that guy's daydreams...)
There's ol' Stevie!
The boogeyman from Bangor, ME, was yoo-bick-wah-tis in the 1980s and 1990s. It wasn’t enough to rule over bookstore shelves and shopping mall multiplexes. No, he had to go and take over the boob tube, as well. I’m not even talking about the many (many…many) made-for-TV projects that seemed to sprout up overnight like mushrooms in a Ray Bradbury story.
Stephen King even took over the commercials on TV. Didn’t he understand that the commercial breaks were there for viewers to catch their collective breath while assuring themselves that what they were watching was only a movie…only a movie? What kind of a monster would hide amongst the Moonlighting promos and Burger King ads, in order to leap out and scare the pants of some poor potato chip-munching sap who was just kicking back in his/her La-Z-Boy after a hard's work?
You’re a sick man, Mr. King.
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