Learning about ourselves

Good movies always encourage you reflect about your own life and experiences - they provide a certain "What would Jesus do?" moment, except usually without the Jesus. This is especially true of the most recent movie I saw in theaters, "The Last Exorcism" (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Last_Exorcism), whose reviews could have been much worse, let's be honest.

So if I were Nell, the "possessed" (read: repressed) waxen girl in TLE, it's pretty clear what steps I would take to, you know, deal with that shit.

First of all, this girl's wardrobe is made up entirely of lacy nightgowns, and what exorcism movie have you seen where the chick isn't wearing one of those? Demons find white nightgowns ironic. Also, if you're a demon, you know that only ghosts are allowed to wear nightgowns in the underworld, and ghosts are probably the most un-hip evil things there are. So you might as well take advantage of the opportunity on Earth (that's what Jesus did).

If you're going to be possessed, at least do it up right. One: get a fucking awesome voice, not your own voice just lowered a little bit. I mean, you just sound like a stern parent that way, talking about the evils of "blowing jobs" and outdoor sex. Two: don't go half-way lesbian. Three: If you can climb walls and do all sorts of Cirque du Soleil contortions, DO A DANCE!!!! Nell even did a split at one point, and I think everyone was more confused than terrified.

If someone tries to impregnate you with a demon baby, it's okay to cut the nice, girl-next-door spiel. There are tons of firearms around, if you know what I mean. Make Louisiana proud.

But, as we all know, hindsight is 20/20. Of course I can advise these things now while sitting in a mosquito-less, airconditioned theater. Decisions are hard when you're choking in the muggy Bayou air. I can only hope that my resolutions will persuade future demon victims to make the most of their - well, what would you call that? A demon exchange program? Anyway, I hope they forgo the nightgowns.

In unrelated news, I saw a group of tourists asking a man in full clown makeup directions to the Harvard Bridge at 10:30 a.m. the other day. Does it not occur to anyone else that asking A CLOWN for directions is asking to get lost? It's a clown's responsibility to dick people around, on or off the clock. And this was no amateur clown, either. His red nose was perfectly sculpted to his face, and his hat was pinned delicately to gentle auburn tresses. His polka-dotted suit looked worn but not old. That kind of guy takes clowning seriously, and when someone takes clowning seriously there's no hope for the rest of us. It would save time if you just slipped on your own banana peel. So yeah, that's another revision those douchebags might make in hindsight.

Of course, this post could have very well been called "pot calls the kettle black," if any of you are acquainted with my personal history. But these recent events have issued a new beginning in awareness. If I ever catch myself bashing a cat over the head with a camera or talking to a clown as if he were a normal person, I'll know to stop, drop and roll (so to speak). And that's life, isn't it?