Poltergeist Trilogy Overview

This series gotten progressively worst. There’s no wonder my father never introduced me to a Poltergeist II much less Poltergeist III. The first Poltergeist
had the benefit of the doubt due to the fact that it would be intended for a child to watch with one’s family or even with a father or mother or guardian.
While doing a little research, I found that there’s actually a Poltergeist made in 2015. I do not know whether or not this movie has any relations with
the Poltergeist Trilogy that I just reviewed, but my best guess is that it’s a reboot. I have plans on watching and review this film as soon as I can,
but I won’t be able to get to it right away. I’m afraid I don’t have too much to say about it. You could easily get away with only buying the first one,
and being perfectly happy without seeing the sequels altogether.

X-Files Season 2 Episode 25

Anasazi: A lead up episode for the next season. It starts with an anarchist hacker who managed to procure government files regarding extraterrestrials hidden from public attention, and hands it to Mulder. The plot thickens as the files appear to be encoded in Navajo to appear like nothing more than gibberish. I’ll save a rating for this episode when it actually comes to a closing.

X-Files Season 2 Episodes 21-24

The Calusari: Pretty much a take from The Omen. A grandmother keeps telling her daughter that her grandson is the son of the devil (dragu). She even goes to the extent of a Romanian ritual to attempt an exercise. I rank this episode 3 out of

Emasculata: This one just start all kinds of stupid. A prison receives an ailment from a prison being dropped a package which brings me to the bold question. Why would you just hand an inmate packages without checking them first. If that was a small gun, then he could at least get the drop on a few security guards. Lucky them, it only an infected pig’s leg. I rank this episode 0.5 out of 5.

Soft Light: A once brilliant scientist turns into a danger to anyone who steps on his shadow. Literally, if someone is on his shadow they immediately burn down to a crisp. The guy, (who I’m sure acts as Adrian Monk on Monk), acts as a man concern about other’s safety and constantly make attempts to avoid any unintentional killings. I rank this episode 3 out of 5.

Our Town: A small town harbors a tribal cannibalistic cult. When a sudden disappearance had be filed. Mulder goes to investigate with the predisposition that fox-fires might be the culprit. I rank this episode 4 out of 5.

Poltergeist III (1988)

I am so horribly sorry about the delay, but here it is. My review of Poltergeist III, yet again written by an entirely different staff. This movie is
rated PG-13 with no specified reasons. This is the worst of the three so far. It’s not that I’m saying they genuinely gave this movie effort, in fact
it’s a movie that seemed to even know that it would do so horribly that they stuck the credits toward the beginning in fear that no one would
bother to see the ending credits. This is a child film, plain and simple. Remember how “He” in the first one would never even show his face, and started
to look like Medusa by the end of the first sequel. There was some actual mystery toward this beast, but now he popped up in every other scene! I felt
like I was watching an R.L. Stine movie. He might have been a good writer, but not for screen writing. The family that worked so hard to be together in
the second are now separated and the little girl now lives with her aunt and uncle. Though they share that open door policy nonetheless, but without the
child mental scarring. There’s two main things I would like to cover before diving right into this mess. The movie possessed a side theme regarding
narcissism, which in itself is not a bad thing to cover seeing how it’s increasingly prevalent to this day. Toward the beginning the father makes a
comment to his oldest daughter about looking too much into a mirror and tells her the Greek myth of Narcissus who spent too long looking at his own
reflection until he eventually fell and drowned in the pond. The daughter retorted “only a boy would be so clumsy”. This part held promise. Of course,
I’m still a little sour over the fact that the movie decided to make a side theme for people to learn from seeing how this had the most real message.
However, it is so poorly executed when she herself falls into a puddle while trying to save her cousin Carol Anne. Look, if you want the message to be
about not loosing yourself to your own reflection than it should actually be about the girl interaction with her own reflection being a result of her
downfall. Otherwise, the message holds no ground. The next part I like to cover is the large budget going into Dried Ice and Mirror Hatred. “He”, being
the poltergeist from the same two movies, leaves cold spots wherever he goes causing a crack along stories of mirror as Carol Anne is in the elevator. Though
this also brings up the question of what sort of Hotel would have so many mirrors. Carol Anne’s uncle, Bruce, happens to be the management of the same hotel
which the family lives in this movie. Apparently, the amount of ice forming all over the place including the swimming pool, is a result of the poltergeist
absorbing energy. So, why has he never done this sort of thing before. The poltergeist has always feed onto youth for life force energy, so now he’s
change his diet to heat? This would have been an interesting concept on its own if you weren’t already stealing from a movie series to do this. Though,
it appears that this might be a result of being kicked into a different dimension altogether. Oh, yes. The poltergeist has been banished into the mirror
world which would explain why the poltergeist now want the child to show them the way back to light. This is actually the bulk of it.

Due to the events regarding her house, Carol Anne is taken to a school for special child where Dr. Sedan insists that she’s a master hypnotist. With his
rhythmic voice, it’s hard to say that he’s not a hypnotist himself, which explains the hypnotherapy with her. It’s during a demonstration with Carol Anne,
that she reveals that the poltergeist keep asking her to lead them into the light. Though, this is suppose to be looking back on the first movie, and
trust me, there was nothing about leaving them into the light in that movie nor the sequel soon after. To add to the effects, a RL zombie arm throws a
coffee mug in the mirror. Sedan insists that this is a result of suggestion to cause one of the people to smash through the window. I would severely
question that seeing how the person definitely didn’t place nearly enough force in a forward motion to break through that window. There really isn’t any
need for dramatic irony for this scene. A person simply cannot be suggested to place enough force to break through a window. I still wonder why Tengena
calls him Rasputin when she first meets him face to face. Yes, Tengena’s in this, and she makes just as little sense as ever. I seriously question just
how strong Sedan thinks Carol Anne’s hypnotism is, seeing how he blames a screech through the phone on her. What you see or do is one thing. But controlling
what one hears without being present is another. I’m pretty sure that Bruce called him ‘Satan’, though that might be a misspeak. Seeing how for a psychologist
Dr. Sedan jumps straight to Hypnotherapy all the time, it’s no wonder that why someone might call him ‘Satan’. Though Bruce’s best line and quite possibly
the best line in the movie is “Nothing Sedan said made sense of tonight.” I would make that “Nothing Sedan said made sense of anything,” but I’m happy with
that line.

You have absolutely no idea how much I would like to call plagiarism on this movie for how many stereotypical RL Stine trumps have been placed into this movie.
The delayed reflection is a classic pseudo-subtle start for the movie. Then there’s Kane, aka “He”, who is constantly creeping. Honestly, do we need to say
“Creeper, Stop Creeping!” Though the silliness of Evil Carol Anne says about all of it. I fairly certain that the door she first popped out of is cardboard
with dried ice effects. Oh, the oldest daughter’s name is Donna, who happened to come back to life from a death touch on Tengena. So, what can you say? Can
we trust the Donna that just crawled out of Tengena rapidly decaying corpse? Well, she killed Sedan, and it turns out that her boyfriend, Scott, is no
different after coming back from the other side. Even the reveal, I’m-freaking-evil laughter scene took place after she kills Sedan. Then comes the strangest
part yet where Scott just rips a part of her face off for absolutely no reason what-so-ever. The disdain in her face is quite justified in that. What was
going through your head, “Here, let me just rip a bit of your face off for you”? Though, Tengena happens to still be alive as she returns from a watery
entrance in a frozen room with really lively frozen animals. Seriously, it was beginning to look like Animal Farm on Ice. Though the dialogue in the
garage really speaks for itself when we see a hybrid of “He” and a car. “What do you want?” “YOU!” I really don’t know what else you would expect. It’s
amazing how all the cars blew up in the wintry garage only brought them back to the same garage with the cars’ worst fear being rust damage from the
sprinklers. So, what? None of the cars actually went through any of that? Though there’s Tengena sacrifice toward the end that follows the sort of plot
you’d already expect by the time you have 20 more minutes to endure.

What teen would go to watch it at this point? Did they really just give up on even trying? I could actually say for the first Sequel, there was some
entertainment in the amount of creativity, but there was nothing but the same old over and over again in this. I would not so much as recommend watching this
movie. That’s right, we have another addition to my stink tank.

Michael Ate His Sock

Michael ate his own sock. Why? I really don’t know, but he really choked
it down and patted his chest victoriously. I only met Michael a few
minutes ago while hanging out with my new college friends. He walked up
to me and boasted, “Hey! Do you want to watch me eat my own sock?”

I stared at him dumbfounded, and responded, “I have absolutely no clue
who you are, or why you want me to watch you eat your own sock.”

Michael reached his hand out laughing, “My name is Michael! Miss!”

“I’m a dude,” I retorted bitterly. Though my words clearly didn’t reached
Michael’s ears. Or he simply wouldn’t have it.

Michael passionately grabs my hand and pulls me into the arcade’s bar
area. A crowd of people roared with enthusiasm as I desperately reach my
free arm out for my friends to back me up. However, a heated skii ball stole
their attention from my dire situation. I’m not sure why Michael mistook
me for a woman, but I’ve always been a man. Always gone pee pee while
standing up. My mother and father even named me Paul. I figured that
Michael is a bar regular. He definitely possessed the stink for it.

By the time Michael released my hand, a barricade of drunkards ensnared me
as Michael walked up the stage. The announcer bellowed, “On this end,
We have Mi-Chael! Here he will be upholding his end of a bet made by our
staff!”

The announcer reached a hand to welcome Michael while the other perched
the mic to his lips, “So, Michael. Will you eat your own sock?”

Michael grabbed the mic from the announcer and affirmed, “Yes, I merely
wanted to bring a sweat heart into the mix!” Oh dear God. Does he mean me?
I severely fear that there may have been some serious deep confusion. I
only wished that he didn’t point at me while stating this. Half the
crowd seemed to understand that he meant me and expressed it in an
uproar of laughter, while the other half seemed confused by whom Michael
meant.

“Wish me luck, honey!” Michael cheered while blowing a kiss at me.
“I’m not your honey!” I protested.
The crowd seemed to have had an opinion, “Oh, don’t be like that
sweat checks.”

The announcer took the mic back to continue his bellowing, “Well! Perhaps
seeing Michael! Here! Uphold his bid will change her mind!”

I proceed to protest, “I am not a woman! My name is Paul! There’s been a
clear confusion.”

The crowd continued sharing their opinions, “I’m sorry! But was that
Pauline?! You ain’t fooling anyone, sister!”

I scowled at the crowd, unable to find the culprit. The announcer
ignored the argument down below as he turned toward Michael, “Take!
Off! Your! Right! Sock!” The announcer broke for pauses as a drumroll
prompted each word. Michael complied with the scenic chants by removing
his right shoe, then kicking it to the side. With his right foot exposed,
the crowd gasped. Michael eyed the crowd much like a trained performer
putting on a show, then pulled the sock from his armpit then sleeve.
Even the announcer’s jaw dropped.

The announcer regained his composure with looking out to the audience,
“What a twist, Michael! I could have sworn I saw that sock on your
foot but not by a few minutes ago.”

Michael boasted once more, “I knew you would have an additional challenge
onto this, so I decided to beat you to it, Bernard.”

The announcer, Bernard, chortled into the microphone, and stated,
“Why, yes! Though you didn’t really think that this would intrude on
it, did you?”

Michael smirked and retorted, “I figured that you could use all the
help that you could get!”

The announcer waved for a few waitress toward the bar with a shake glass.
“On the contrary, Michael,” Bernard bellowed, “I intended to make it a
little easier, but perhaps a bit harder to drink this milkshake!”

Michael cheered as he dipped the sock into the shake and the announcer set
an arm up in the air to start the bid. I am still disturbed by the scene,
and regret to inform you, I opposed a different interest. Getting out.
I did see Michael cringe has he lifted the bottom to the sky and choke down
sock and shake. The crowd made their desire to hold me to one place very
clear. I txted one of my friends my location, but I fear they might not come
to my rescue on time. I txted them before the event only to gain no response
before, so my scepticism was well-placed. I glanced around to see which end of
the crowd might be too busy with the scene. A majority actually covered their eyes
in shame. This really begged the question of what did they actually expect to see.
If I tried forcing my way out, I might shove through may be one guy, but
alert any others nearby who actually expect me to play along with this bullshit.
I needed a crevice.

Another door! I spotted on the other side of the stage, the bar had another side
where the door only had two or three people at most at one time. There would be
no way I could shove through the crowd, but seeing how they accepted me the trophy
girl, walking across the stage ought to be no trouble at all. Though, the moment
that I cross the event, everyone would be alarmed of my intentions. I only needed
to move fast enough to bolt outside and catch up with my friends for human shields.
As I stood up on the stage, Bernard eyed me cautiously. It seemed as though Bernard
was savvy toward my gesture. I walked slowly with may be a few hoots ignited down
below. The moment that I past Bernard is when it all goes down. I was sure of that.

Bernard’s attention on Michael moved completely away as he noticed my direction didn’t
even waver toward Michael in the least bit.

Bernard bellowed, “Why miss? Have you come onto the stage to cheer your Michael on?”

I remained silent and choked out a quiet, “sure,” so to not rise suspicions. To late,
I bolted when I noticed that Bernard was obviously not buying it. I hoped everything
would end peacefully, but I ended up shoving Bernard down as I jumped off of him and off
the other side of the stage. Thankfully, the crowd didn’t seem too concerned with
the notion as they yelled, “Damn! That lady has quite an arm!”

Waitresses cleared my way frightened as I dashed through the door, and I might had pushed
a couple out of the way. I’m back into the Arcade entrance. I stopped to look around, and
spotted my friends just outside the bar. I guess they couldn’t get in through that crowd.

“Hey, come on! Lets go!” I yelled at them pulling for them to go with me.

“Whao man! I thought you txted that you where trapped in the bar.”

“I found a way out, but I really don’t want to stick around.”

Thankfully, I managed to talk my friend into ending the day there. I don’t ever want to
run into that Michael creep ever again.

No Traditional Love ch02 – Summer Continues

The uproar of thunder shakes me from my sleep. The musky summer air left me with a streak of sweat on my shirt. Well, I’m not going back to sleep.
I pull out my laptop from my black laptop bag with a yellow plush peep hanging on one end. His clip is reinforced with duct tape for one too many jumps.
Likewise, I fetch my wireless mouse, so I don’t have to deal with my mouse-pad glitching on me. While I’m up, I might as well check all of my social media stuff.

Nothing going on there. I guess no one’s up at 3 am and the dead center of July. Oh, that’s not bad I guess. With my desktop up, my eye falls onto the skype
on my task bar. I left that sucker untapped since my last encounter with it. Turns out that treating it like Facebook simply doesn’t work, because
people you figure migh know you buy you can’t remember from where is not so much of the case. The hailstorm of solicitations could only be blamed on my
naivety and awkwardness in not saying “f*** off, I’m not interested in watching you play with yourself.” Then again, even that tactic didn’t work. I
remember getting it to keep in touch with some college friends, but neither even bothered, while other means of communication like via steam or Facebook worked
far better. For a while, I developed an aversion toward Facebook due to the political outbursts in the support group pages.

I don’t recall how distracted my thoughts kept me, but I seem to have little charge left on my laptop. I fumble for the charger in my bag leaning almost
entirely off the bed, and plug the charger into the wall. Alright, that should do the trick, except, something doesn’t seem to be right. Where’s the
charging icon? Why hasn’t the brightness changed as it normally would? I drop my steam tab so to look at my background showing a Rise Of Mythos’ Christmas
theme with a ginger cat girl wearing a Santa suit. As a result of charging, this image should have switched out with another background.

“Okay, something doesn’t seem right here.”

I leap from my bed at the light switch proceeding to swat wildly. However, my frantic flipping amounts to only noise. The only lighting in my room comes from
the light glow from my laptop and the storm from out my window. Still holding onto some denial, I stand flicking at the switch, it’s 3am after all, what
all could I really do without electricity. I can’t exactly walk anywhere with this storm. I must cease my frantic swatting in fear that it might wake my
mother. I don’t possess much freedom due to tuition costs and a part time job. So yeah, I still live with my mother.

I guess the only thing I could really do is doodle in my sketch book. Time flies by and the storm eventually subsided, but the power outage remains all the
same. I look to my phone to see it’s 9:43. As much as I would love to continue with my sketch, I wish to be able to use my laptop. So, I walk over to a
Kroger nearby, seeing how everywhere else would be closed. I manage to score one of the light-brown leather couches next to the cafe. The nearest outlet
hides behind a fake fireplace set between the perpendicular couches. Normally, a flock of people would make it to the couches before me, but not at 10
something in the morning. At best I see three to five people wondering by at one time. I struggle thinking about what exactly I should look at. No one
seems up to really do much damage on my newsfeed as usual.

Some time later into the day, a friend that works at Kroger spots me. His name is Alex, and I met him through my younger brother. In fact, it would be more
accurate to say that he’s my younger brother’s friend.

Alex addressed me, “Hey, Jerry! Is this all that you do? Hang out at Kroger all day?”

I try not to think much of what he said. My sibling and his group of friends often exaggerate or lie out of pure entertainment. I respond rather soundly,
“Well, I tend to enjoy leeching off of the WiFi. In this case my laptop seriously needed the charge as well.”

“Hmm,” Alex uttered.

I notice a icee in one hand, from the looks of it, I would say that it’s cherry flavor. I ignore Alex a bit after he slurps from the icee.

“So, I’m on lunch break right now, do you mind if I join you?” Alex asked while whisking his straw through the icee.

I eye him for just a bit and shrug, “Sure, I really am not doing much.”

“Alright” Alex slumps onto the couch perpendicular to mine and slurps with large enthusiasm. I open a blank tab just to cover everything that I’ve been doing.
I doubt that my brother and his ring of friends really communicate much between one another, but I possess little trust in sharing regardless.

“So what have you been up to?” Alex asked while now using the red straw to mash the icee. I suspect the bottom has already started to form icy chunks.

I feel somewhat tempted to talk to someone about my dream, and hey. I could probably play it off as something silly with him. That’s my best route if I
want to talk about it. Too, I could probably trust that it won’t get to James seeing how he lacks unlimited txts from what my brother told me before, and
I witness Alex’s forgetfulness for myself. This really bares little on my judgement, but Alex looks a bit strange in a more normal sense I guess. If I had
to place my finger on it, I would say that a short buzz blond hair might not look quite right accommodating such pronounced ears.

“Jerry? Are you in there?” I must have spaced out again.

“Oh, yes. I just had a strange dream last night.” I confessed.

Alex nods his head to the side as he slurps from his icee almost approvingly. The eye bulge going limp with the motion made it all the more silly looking.
Once he releases the straw from his mouth’s grip, he smirks jestingly and commented, “A strange dream, eh?”

I think it’s safe to say where he’s taken the conversation. I laugh a little, and decide to go along with it.

“Yeah.”

“Was there a girl involved in it or something?”

“A redhead.”

At this point, I figure Alex is taking the whole thing for a joke. I don’t know, should I push it? I debate this in my head for a bit, and pull out in
fear that I might be spacing out again. So, I go for it.

“I met the person from my dream like may be once before, and that’s about it.”

Alex eyes my while taking another slurp. The thought occurs to me, that’s his lunch. I chortle to myself, and try not to pick on him for it. But hey, If
I need a way to pull out of the conversation, that would be my ticket.

Alex finishes with his slurp and returns to his goofy smirk and proceeds to banter, “Is this really a dream I should be hearing about, Jerry?”

I go ahead and laugh, better to divert some tension that way. Then, I turn to him with a bit of a correction, “Trouble is that I’m not sure what to make of
it?”

Alex’s smirks twists into a baffled expression.

Alex pushed, “How do you mean?”

Oh, Shit! Should I abort. I look back vacantly hiding the sense of panic going on in the background. I rake through my hair with a hand too to cover my face
as I contemplate my next actions.

“Well, it’s been a while since I actually dated.” I reply, continuing to hide my face behind my hand with the story of playing with my hair.

Alex whisks his icee a little more gradually with his own vacant expression. I don’t know what’s brewing in his head, but I figured a distraction is due.
I interrupt his thought, “So, is that your lunch?”

Alex laughs with me as he complies. Alex seems just as game of leaving that topic as I was. Though, I figure he would willingly kid the subject a bit if I
had given him for time to devise a response. By the end of his lunch break I leave for home.