Superstitious

Today is Friday the 13th. Or, a randomly assigned date on the Julian calendar with no real significance other than a way to keep track of the Earth's revolution around the sun. Of course, for millions of superstitious people, Friday the 13th is a day to be extra cautious. They avoid walking under ladders; stay away from black cats; don't open umbrellas indoors do their best to not break mirrors. Friggatriskaidekaphobia is the fear of Friday the 13th, the origins of which are unclear, but probably date back to the early 1800's, when just about everyone was religious. According to Christian mythology, Jesus died on a Friday after having been betrayed by his 13th disciple, Judas. 13 is also an unlucky number in Norse mythology involving the mischievous Loki who turned up as the uninvited 13th guest at a dinner in Valhalla.

Even as a kid (when I believed), I was never very superstitious. Being in the theatre (out of respect for my fellow actors who are superstitious), I do avoid saying  "Macbeth" in a theatre, if only to keep my cast-mates from freaking out - even though the production of Macbeth in which I played Ross was completely free of problems, injuries and/or technical glitches. And Friday the 13th is nothing compared to some of the superstitions people hold around the world. Here are a few of them (via):

Spit on a new (baseball) bat before using it for the first time to make it lucky.

It's bad luck to put a hat on a bed.

To protect yourself from witches, wear a blue bead.

It is bad luck to light three cigarettes with the same match. (This is from WWI, when the glow of a match lit long enough to light three cigarettes could reveal your location to the enemy)

It's bad luck to leave a house through a different door than the one used to come into it.

To drop a fork means a man is coming to visit. (I better start dropping forks!)

If 3 people are photographed together, the one in the middle will die first. (But what if you are in more than one picture of 3 people?)

If you leave a rocking chair rocking when empty, it invites evil spirits to come into your house to sit in the rocking chair.

Do not place shoes upon a table, for this will bring bad luck for the day, cause trouble with your mate and you might even lose your job as a result (Uncle P's mother insists it is bad luck to put new shoes on a table).

If a woman sees a robin flying overhead on Valentine's Day, it means she will marry a sailor. If she sees a sparrow, she will marry a poor man and be very happy. If she sees a goldfinch, she will marry a millionaire.

The number of Xs in the palm of your right hand is the number of children you will have (This childless gay man has three).

The list goes on and on. And superstitions vary from country to country. For example, the seventh son of a seventh son has magic powers, according to Irish folklore, but is a vampire in Romanian legend. 

Here's the thing: it's all nonsense. There is no such thing as magic. There are no supernatural forces controlling your life. Eating 12 black-eyed peas on New Year's Day will do nothing but send the peas' nutrients into your system and playing with a Ouija board will not invite Captain Howdy to possess you. There are no such things as vampires; werewolves; demons; angels; Bigfoot or chupacabras. Fairies exist only in Disney movies; handling toads does not give one warts; cats don't steal babies' breath and repeating "Bloody Mary" three times into a mirror in a dark room will not cause an evil spirit to leap out of said mirror and kill you. Wearing special underwear will not help you win a game or land a role in a play for which you're auditioning. A rabbit's foot key-chain is just a preserved bit of a dead rabbit and a four-leaf clover is simply a genetic anomaly. Blowing all the candles out on your birthday cake just means you have good lungs and wishing on a falling meteor or a coin tossed into a fountain or well is as effective as playing special numbers in the lottery (i.e. not effective at all). Wearing green on game day does nothing to help the Eagles win; rubbing a lamp will not release a djinn who will do you bidding and kissing the Blarney Stone will only transfer germs from the 10,000 other people who kissed it that week. 

If you believe in any of the above-mentioned nonsense, I feel sorry for you. Get over it and get on with your life, already.

Still, Friday the 13th makes for some great horror movie fodder:



You're all doomed.

More, anon.
Prospero

It's My Lucky Day!

Good Advice for Final Girls (and Guys)

I find it completely astonishing that in 2012 AD, we are still primarily a race of superstitious neanderthals, cowering during a thunderstorm because some great invisible being must be angry at us. Of course the annotation "AD" in the date I just typed is a superstitious relic itself, used scientifically only to denote between documented and and undocumented or 'prehistoric' events. Of course, that first neanderthal who figured out that thunder and lightning were natural events decided to use that to his advantage and instill even more fear into his cave-mates, thus elevating him to "Shaman" (or its neanderthal equivalent) and giving him perceived power and influence over the rest of them.

Thank (you should pardon the expression) God for the Italians. Face it -- if it wasn't for the Renaissance, you would not be reading this and I would not be typing what you are reading. The free exchange of ideas; the sharing of information and the expansion of scientific knowledge forged by DaVinci and his contemporaries have all led to the computer-driven, world-connected society in which we now find ourselves, and where more like-minded people can now connect with one another better, faster and more often than ever before. The entire compendium of human knowledge is available -- to just about everyone --  at the touch of a few buttons.

So why is it that so many people still believe in invisible beings; ghosts; demons; angels; fairies; leprechauns; vampires; werewolves; black cats; broken mirrors; walking under ladders... ad nauseum? Every religion will tell you that 'faith' is what makes it real. In other words, belief in something completely illogical and unlikely, despite all scientific evidence to the contrary. The real world is scary enough without pretending there are 'supernatural' forces at work in our lives. And I won't deny that there are things still unexplainable. Who knows why the girl with the 'incurable' cancer suddenly went into permanent remission? Why did patient "Y" survive the transplant while patient "X" didn't? What made Sparky run out into the street just at that Jeep turned the corner? Why can't I win the lottery?

Because it's all completely random, folks. There's no "Cosmic Plan" or "Web of Destiny." As they say: "Sh*t Happens." Maybe its because I have a birthday coming up. Maybe I'm losing my faith in the hope for humanity. Or maybe it's a combination of things. Whatever it is, it's leading me down some previously only tentatively explored paths - and that's a good thing. 

So, if there is anything left of your Friday the 13th, go out and celebrate it. I once went camping in Salem on a Friday the 13th weekend (we were 'researching' a production of The Crucible) and had one of the most memorable experiences of my youth.

Damn. I should have played the Powerball...

Okay, fine. Is this better?



More, anon.
Prospero

Happy Friday the 13th!

"Kill, kill, kill, kill... Blood, blood, blood, blood..." Hope you stayed away from ladders, black cats and broken mirrors today! I thought I stepped on a crack, but my mother's back remains intact...

Blogger was shut down for updates all day yesterday, so I (and all the other Blogger users) didn't get to post but I have a doozy lined up for tomorrow...

More, anon.
Prospero

Triskaidekaphobia 2: The Beginning

The last time I talked about Friday the 13th, it was all about the the increasingly bad movie franchise that started with Sean S. Cunningham's 1980 original. And from looking at some of my blog links below, lots of other folks are doing the same, today.

But tonight, I'm more interested in how the whole Bad Luck thing associated with today's date started. And in superstition, in general.

"Superstition' can be defined in two ways (via):

1 a : a belief or practice resulting from ignorance, fear of the unknown, trust in magic or chance, or a false conception of causation b : an irrational abject attitude of mind toward the supernatural, nature, or God resulting from superstition
2 : a notion maintained despite evidence to the contrary

Some say the fear of the number 13 is a result of Judas' betrayal of Jesus at Gethsemane (Judas being the 13th person in attendance). Others say it goes back even further to Norse mythology in a tale about a dinner in which Loki, the god of mischief, was the uninvited 13th guest at a dinner in Valhalla, where he killed Balder the Good with a holly spear, resulting in a darkness which enveloped the world. Numerologists will tell you that 13 is the number that upsets the perfect balance of the number 12 (12 months; 12 signs of the zodiac; 12 labors of Hercules; 12 ribs; 12 jurors... the list goes on and on).

Of course, superstition itself goes as far back as Man's origins, when every misunderstood natural phenomenon was ascribed to gods, demons and/or other assorted supernatural beings. Today, the list of superstitions seems endless and varies from country to country. We all know that walking under a ladder is bad luck, as is stepping on a crack; breaking a mirror; crossing paths with a black cat, etc. Conversely, carrying a rabbit's foot, rubbing the Buddha's belly or finding a four-leaf clover are all considered good luck charms.

As for yours truly, Uncle P doesn't really believe in luck, good or bad. In fact, Uncle P doesn't really believe in much that he can't see, feel, hear, smell or taste (and even then I know the senses can be fooled). Still, I'd like to think I have an open mind. Just because I've never seen a ghost doesn't mean they don't exist. I've never seen the Blarney Stone, but I know it exists (I also know that while another superstition says that kissing it is supposed to give one the 'gift of gab,' kissing it is also the germiest thing one can do while on vacation).

Yes, I refrain from saying the name of the 'Scottish Play' in a theatre, though only to mollify my fellow thespians who choose to believe that doing so will bring disaster to whatever production one happens to be working on at the time. But I don't worry about walking under ladders, breaking mirrors, steeping on cracks or crossing paths with black cats. Nor should you...

Ironically, I got a dose of Friday the 13th while in the midst of writing this post in teh form of a virus attack, resulting in a 2 1/2 hour phone call to Pakistan, where a very helpful HP support technician was finally able to remove the virus remotely, which is why this post didn't show up until Saturday. I'm still rather tired, but glad to be back. Have a good weekend.

More, anon.
Prospero

Triskaidekaphobia

Well, Happy Friday the 13th to one and all! I love this picture of our buddy, Jason. I wish I had found it during the election. It's still pretty damned funny. And I do so love that slogan.

So, did you see any black cats today or walk under ladders? Did you break a mirror, spill some salt or say the real name of "The Scottish Play" in a theatre? Step on a crack and break your mother's back? Or maybe you left a pin on the floor, whispered "Bloody Mary; Bloody Mary; Bloody Mary..." 13 times into the mirror of a darkened room; invited a vampire to cross your threshold or gave the nazar, maloik or hamsa to a passing gypsy after you ran his mother down in the street because your wife was pleasuring you while driving (Really? Did I have to go there? Apparently, yes I did).

Of course, these days there aren't too many superstitious people left in the world (except maybe the Pope, Creationists and the head-shrinking tribes of South America) and to most people Friday the 13th has come to mean something else, entirely. Which is where Candidate Voorhees comes in, obviously.

I don't remember ever discussing the F13 franchise in great detail. I've seen most of them. A few are fair to middling and one or two are actually almost good. Most of them are simply 'celluloid bowel movements' (a phrase I've just now trademarked, so don't get any ideas). I know I've told you that when we got our very first VCR - a clunky, monstrously heavy old think with big push buttons like a giant cassette deck - the first movie my father brought home from the video store was the original Friday the 13th. I'd heard how horribly graphic and realistic the kills were, but I couldn't imagine anything more gruesome than Dawn of the Dead, and while the kills in F13 are pretty good, they didn't live up to the hype. I think Kevin Bacon in one of his earliest roles has the best death - skewered from under the bed with an arrow through his throat (and we'll talk about that death again when we get the film's antagonist). You all know the story. A group of horny young counselors gather at the soon-to-be-reopened Camp Crystal Lake. After a crazy old man on a bike warns them all that they're doomed, they indulge in alcohol, marijuana, strip Monopoly and premarital sex; four things to always guarantee an 80's slasher movie character's death (either each by themselves or in any combination thereof). Anyway... 20 years ago, blah-blah-blah... counselors having sex... yadda-yadda-yadda... Jason drowns... etc.; the real killer is Mrs. Voorhees. Now did you get a good look at Betsy Palmer? She's a tiny little woman approaching middle age in that movie. How the hell is she strong enough to push an arrow through a mattress and the back of Kevin's neck all the way through to the front? Seriously.

That terribly-acted first film featured some astounding effects from Tom Savini, but made no sense, really. And the rest of franchise never shied away from making sense, either. With the original killer decapitated (in another ridiculous feat of human strength on the part of actress Adrienne King), but the box-office revenues crying out for a sequel, Jason Voorhees (miraculously grown up, despite having drowned as a child) out for revenge for his mother's death in a weird, almost Oedipal role reversal. Jason wears a burlap bag over his disfigured head (it wouldn't be until F13-3D that he would don the now-iconic hockey mask), and it does feature one of the few film performances of the late and much mourned Tom McBride:

They get worse and worse as they go on, F13VIII being arguably the worst of the sequels:

What a lovely depiction of Manhattan, eh? And maybe even sillier, the franchise goes Sci-Fi in Jason X (one of only two in the franchise not to use the original title). Just imagine Jason as the Xenomorph in Alien, as the writers of this film obviously did:

And then they went right into Abbott and Costello territory with Freddy vs Jason, (the second not to mention the original) a combination of two franchises which had become such jokes, they couldn't even parody themselves well-enough to make a good movie:

One, two... New Line's comin' for you... (or at least your wallet, sucker!).

Then last year, the inevitable (and atrocious) re-boot starring "Supernatural" and "Gilmore Girls" hottie Jared Padalecki, who can't even be bothered to try and please his fans by taking off his shirt:

Needless to say, inspired by the surprising box-office successes of The Final Destination and My Bloody Valentine, a sequel to the re-boot is underway in 3D (yay?).

Anyway, I hope you had a lucky Friday the 13th. Mine wasn't awful (though my day job clients seemed exceptionally stupid and whiny, today - either they're getting worse or I'm becoming far less tolerant). Having fun talking about movies (even bad ones), more than makes up for it.

More, anon.
Prospero