Life Imitates Horror: Arachnids on a plane?

Greetings and Salutations.

So apart from moths I have a wee fear of our eight legged friends.  Moths? Why moths? They are filthy dirty creatures that drop their faeces and dust as they do fly by’s across your face and ears! Strangely though I love butterflies. Back to the point, I am not a huge fan of spiders, I can draw up the courage to squish them being the hardcore femme fatale that I am (whilst JH cowers in the corner), but not a fan. So when I saw the following story in the Sydney Morning Herald (courtesy of my father, still supporting my macabre ways to this day!), I cringed with the thoughts of what if…

“A British man has been arrested at Rio de Janeiro airport with 1000 live spiders in his luggage.

The man was nabbed late on Wednesday after security X-rays allegedly showed he was trying to smuggle the spiders out in two suitcases.

The man, unnamed in online reports by the state Agencia Brasil and other outlets on Thursday, was apprehended for violating laws banning the export of Brazilian animals without authorisation.

He faces imprisonment of up to a year and a fine of up to $US2.3 million ($2.5 million).

After being charged and processed, he was released on bail pending a court date.

The seized spiders were taken by Brazil’s environmental watchdog agency Ibama to a museum in Rio’s federal university.” (SMH, 13/11/09)

What if he had got onto the plane? What if the hairy little beasties had got out of their suitcase and invaded the air ducts of the plane? What if the plane malfunctioned and instead of your oxygen mask dropping down a big fat hairy spider landed on your face instead? Or what if they escaped and you were sitting next to your lover and felt a tickle up your inner thigh an thought you were in for some mile high action and instead there is a furry little eight legged thing crawling towards your pink bits! Argghh and no Samuel Jackson in sight! Something to ponder in your nightmares tonight ladies and gents… Arachnids on a Plane!

Ms Harker


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Life Imitates Horror: Zombie Dad

Just when you thought the pustule coloured tsunami of Zombie related books, film and merchandise couldn’t saturate your braaain any more. Like a an undead arm coming out of its socket out pops this unsavoury tale of cannibalistic mayhem from Bakersfield, California.

A thirty four year old father was accused in May 2009 of chewing out his son’s eye (and injuring the other with a chomp) in an alleged  PCP (Phencyclidine) fueled zombiesque romp which ended in the man attempting to cut off his own leg with an axe, when obviously his hunger for human flesh was still unsatisfied. Now ask yourself people, has the Zombie trend gone too far? Are we seeing the impact of an over saturation of Zombie material infecting the brains of the general populace resulting in these types of acts. What ever happened to a good old vampire like nibble on the neck during a maniacal sex romp between consenting adults?

However, the poor child’s statement to police will make for good telemovie if not feature film fodder… I can see the scene now, Tom Hanks the hardened alcoholic District Attorney, whose been given the case of the ‘Zombie Dad’, as his co-workers won’t touch it. But Hank’s the hardened attorney, has had his heart won over by the blind chewed up boy and puts him on the stand… The victory music starts to play as the Hank’s asks the young boy ‘What did you tell the police when they arrived son?’… pause for dramatic effect… ‘My daddy ate out my eyes.’… pause for dramatic effect… Hanks: ‘Ladies and gentlmen of the jury, my daddy ate out my eyes, my daddy ate out my eyes… the public rests.’ Zombie dad hangs head in shame, judge slams down gavel and shouts ‘Guilty as charged!’, Hanks and the blind boy high five each other… roll credits.

Ms Harker



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Life Imitates Horror: Or a Necrophiliac’s Worst Nightmare.

I experienced some macabre serendipity a few days ago. I was reading one of my favourite horror blogs ‘And Now the Screaming Starts’ where the erudite CRWMN had posted an article from the ‘Journal of Forensic and Legal Medicine’  detailing a system of categorisation that one Professor Anil Aargwal has developed for various types of Necrophiliac’s. Having a twisted interest in most things psychiatry I proceeded to have a look through the article and found some interesting examples of corpse grinding behaviour. Coincidentally in the local Melbourne broadsheet ‘The Age’ the following story was published:

Body refuses to go pale, family asks for death opinion

August 27, 2009

Relatives of a dead man in Spain asked a doctor to confirm his death a second time because his body showed no signs of going pale hours after he passed away, local officials say.

The 70-year-old died of a heart attack and his body was on display at a funeral home in Lorca, a city of some 90,000 people in southern Spain, when his family noticed that it still had a healthy pink glow, a spokesman for the funeral home said on Wednesday.

They then called in the doctor to confirm that their loved one was in fact dead. The doctor concluded that the man still had a healthy glow, despite having passed away, because the pacemaker he was wearing was still running.

Which caused me to reflect on any poor Spanish signor or signorina (let’s not be sexist) who was innocently looking for a little ‘amor del morte’ and whilst eagerly anticipating the dalliance, inhaling the eua de embalming fluid with heady arousal,  clammy hands pulling back the crisp white sheet only to find their midnight love cadaver in fact looked more like a *gasp*… BREATHER!

Now don’t think you fangbangers escape the scientific gaze of the good professor, apparently you too fall into his continuum of Necro’s. You come under Class One Necrophiliacs: role player:

“These people are only mildly pathological, since they seem to enjoy a kind of role playing. They do not have sex with a dead body, but get intense arousal from having sex with a living person pre- tending to be dead. It is a kind of sexual role play… Sometimes a vampire fantasy is involved where the lover sim-ulates a killing by biting the neck. A case is recorded of a woman, who imagined herself to be a vampire. She would ask her husband to pretend he was dead and then stimulate his organ with her mouth. She would then pretend that the resulting erection was rigor mortis, and this would give her erotic pleasure.” (p317)

So next time you are wandering past your local morgue, mortuary or funeral parlour. Spare a thought for those amongst us who are carnally challenged, reflect on your last True Blood fantasy of Bill or Eric and maybe, just maybe we can share a little understanding… Or not!

Ms Harker


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