talk on the phone. finish your homework. watch tv. DIE!

So why horror? As a viewer, you could—and this is certainly true of most movies in the genre— take horror movies as only cheap thrills, and the Final Destinations of the world wouldn’t hold it against you. The opposite side of the same notion is watching horror for gore-by-numbers, the torture porn of a Hostel or a Saw that, for all their violence, end up being an oddly sterile chore. You might also call watching horror a cathartic experience, embracing and ultimately expunging fear.  The prevalence of the “last girl standing” trope, best represented by The Descent, shows that at its heart, great horror thrives on trying to tap into its audience’s basic survival instincts.

As a director, horror makes sense largely from a financial point of view; while creature effects (and, certainly, CGI) can get very expensive, the majority of the horror canon—Romero’s Dead movies, Alien, Psycho, et al.—was assembled on a shoestring budget. For very little input, a horror movie, even one of very limited quality, can enjoy a highly successful second life on DVD. Moreover, the deluge of utter shit that’s oversaturated the genre, combined with a general critical abstention from genre films, has rendered standards so low as to be nonexistent. With so little cost required and so little in the way of expectations, why wouldn’t the enterprising young hack dedicate himself to horror and a lifetime of Syfy Originals?

Ti West’s involvement in horror comes from a different, more genuine place. Last year’s The House of the Devil, which West directed, wrote, and edited, reveals an earnest affection for the tropes of the genre and the 80’s slasher films of his youth. The plot, set in the 80’s, centers on Sam (the awfully pretty Jocelin Donahue), a penniless college student who reluctantly takes on a babysitting job for obvious creep Mr. Ulman (Tom Noonan, one of the movie’s many 80s throwbacks). The situation is weird from the get-go, and only gets weirder when Mr. Ulman reveals that Sam will be babysitting his invalid mother, not a child.

After bargaining with Ulman for four times the original amount of money, Sam is, reluctantly, left alone in the house. Though she tries to kill time by listening to her comically huge Walkman and meandering around, we know that it’s just a matter of time before she finds, as she wanders from room to room, the horrible secrets that the house has waiting for her. The tension, punctuated by a sudden (and thoroughly shocking) act of violence in the movie’s second act, is absolutely stifling, and might be my favorite example of the adage, “It’s what you don’t see that scares you.”

Along with the suspense, the movie’s most rewarding aspect is how fully it immerses itself in both horror movie standbys and in the 80s. Traditions like the false alarm, the “based on real events” disclaimer, the last girl standing, and the dark staircase are all embraced and riffed on with surprising affection. Moreover, holy shit is this movie 80s: there’s plenty of feathered hair, stonewashed jeans, and flannel to go around. There are countless signs in the direction (West is particularly enamored of slow zooms, a la Rosemary’s Baby), casting (Tom Noonan was a go-to sympathetic villain in the 80s, and plays a very similar role here), and editing choices that The House of the Devil is a labor of love for West.

And, in Hitchcockian fashion, West is more concerned with the slow boil of anticipation than he is with the movie’s big reveal, which is a little disappointing. The fun of the movie is following Sam as she discovers just how big a mistake she’s made, and watching the obvious joy West takes in filming it. While the end result is somewhat predictable (and prompted a lot of negative reactions to the movie), people looking for more than instant gratification or heaps of gore will have found something far better: a masterful and just plain fun homage to 80s horror, and a bona fide auteur working in genre film.

Grade: A

are you a man, or are you a bag of sand?

--After complaining about a slowing sports news cycle, yowza did we get some news.

--First off, it's been real, Big 12.  I kind of resent that the SEC looks like it's going to get stuck with Texas A & M out of the Big 12 South, but when Mike Slive said that he wouldn't let the SEC be anything less than it is, I believed him.  The conference cannibalism has just begun, I'm sure; my bet is that the SEC (along with its equal payment and ridiculously lucrative TV contracts) will be letting Clemson, Georgia Tech, Miami, and Florida St. what it's all about sooner rather than later.

--Also, tell me how it tastes, USC.  The NCAA absolutely kerploded any chance of a successful beginning to the Lane Kiffin era at Southern Cal; how long do you think Galippo, Kennard, et. al. will stick around with no chance of winning a championship, and no penalty for transferring?  What about Barkley?  Between this and his version of Scott's Tots, Bush is somehow even more of a douchebag than I'd begrudgingly accepted to be the case.  USC will still keep the 2004 onepeat, and hey, at least someone's keeping this all in perspective.

--Speaking of Reggie, I had said in the past that the NFL's thank you commercial was probably the best commercial I'd ever seen.  Well, the flavor done changed:  well played, NBA, you glorious bastards.

--The Finals haven't been incredible (thank the refs), but both teams have legitimate paths to victory (getting the ball to Pau for the Lakers, getting the bench involved for the C's) after the Celtics forced a best-of-three last night.  I'm loving Garnett's play (especially on D) and Glen Davis/Rasheed Wallace/Ray Allen's goofy faces.

--I've neglected what's probably the most important sports item of the summer, the World Cup, and sweet, sweet jingoism.  In all likelihood the U.S. is scooting towards another ignominious showing in the tournament, but thankfully Spencer Hall has a highly scientific guide to rooting for someone else pending USA's inevitable early exit.  Cote d'Ivoire (and lots of The Very Best, for atmosphere's sake) is my fallback, and, failing that, I always know who to hate.  (h/t SB Nation for that awesome Dodge commercial).

--The internet is basically just one convoluted episode of Cold Case:  Peeds Edition for pop culture, and the jig is up, Falkor. (h/t Videogum)

--I promised not to get political at the beginning of this blog, but BP is the new Jay Leno, so here's a tremendous Onion article on the OilCane.  It's stuff like the oil spill (and BP's hilariously callous reaction to it) that simultaneously make me feel vindicated for quitting politics while making me want to get involved again.

--I've been on a huge Neil Gaiman kick these last few weeks.  Between this story and his opinion of Alabama, you probably should be too, if you've got a taste for anything fantastical.

--Finally, if you aren't already, you need to be listening to Frightened Rabbit.  Just like in life, sincerity is the most important part of great music, and the Frightened Rabbit is on the same level as Arcade Fire and Neutral Milk Hotel as far as honesty goes.  Their sophomore album, The Midnight Organ Fight, is occasionally excellent, but it's their most recent album, The Winter of Mixed Drinks, that's immediately great.  What an awesome year for music so far.

i'm just a great composer, and not a violent man.

--Sorry for the lack of postage, but I've been surprisingly busy (Starcraft won't play itself) and, to be honest, from a sports and pop culture oddities standpoint, things have been pretty slow.

--One in a long line of totally normal, sane things you see from the Westboro Baptist cult.  The little interview link from that page with Phelps' daughter just keeping it real about Heath Ledger is worth a watch, too.  (h/t AV Club).

--I'm honestly surprised that no one did this sooner, but these kids executed it very well.  (h/t Videogum)

--Kelly Bensimon (of Real Housewives fame and a more general sort of crazy people fame) made an anti-bullying PSA, and it makes me want to take her lunch money and give her a swirly.

--I expected so much more from the mind behind "Ahab the Arab."  A rare miss, Ray Stevens.

--Sports-wise, there's not a lot to talk about.  Even though I don't know much about soccer, I'm eagerly awaiting the US national team to continue its streak of disappointing World Cup showings.  On the NBA tip, Celtics-Lakers is a good, if not ideal, Finals matchup; I would've loved for Steve Nash to get a chance at the big one before the decline really sets in, but the Lakers were really just the better team in that series.  And yeah, watching this was really tough.

--Speaking of tearjerking/audible "awww" moments in sports, Chad Johnson remains the most lovable narcissist in the NFL, and this Kenechi Udeze story is just awesome.

--The Clash, Frightened Rabbit, and the Magnetic Fields have been in heavy rotation for me recently.  Hopefully I can cook up an album review (takes longer than you might think, yo) before I go on my trip to Chicago on Friday.

--In other great music news, how about this band Buckcherry?  I somehow managed to avoid hearing that song for my entire life, and now I feel I'm an irrevocably changed, damaged man.  I don't throw Canadian money at the homeless anymore, laughing and laughing as I drive away in my Porsche; now I gently clasp their hands around hundred-dollar bills and cry a single, manly tear for them.  Thanks to Buckcherry, I now know what it's like to live on the margins of society, in the mouth of madness, amongst the damned.  Also, how's that sweet band name treating you, Buckcherry?  Jesus.

--In conclusion, Lost ended.

he meant to shine, to the end of the line.

I make lists.  I love reading lists.  If someone’s being called the greatest player ever in their sport, I want to see where they fit in a list – why not number two, or number three?  Who else would fill those spots?  So naturally I was excited when I found a list of the greatest players in baseball via a stat called wins above replacement (WAR), i.e., how many more wins a player contributed to his team than the average player at his position.

If you average WAR out per season (roughly 700 plate appearances, although that’s on the high side), the only current players in the top 25 are Alex Rodriguez (no. 20), Joe Mauer (no. 14), and Albert Pujols (no. 6, I can dig it).  If we go by totals WAR, Pujols is only 40^th overall.  Coming in at number one in both lists is, unsurprisingly, Babe Ruth.  His total WAR of 172 is only six tenths of a win higher than Barry Bonds, but Ruth’s value averages out to more than two full wins a season better than Bonds.  Add in Ruth’s value as a pitcher—another 18 total wins—and his total of 190 WAR is effectively untouchable.

Ruth was a singularly dominant player, and he was a singularly beloved personality.  He was maybe the most famous American of his time (although Charles Lindbergh would certainly have a case) and has since been ensconced not only in the Hall of Fame but also in baseball lore.  Ruth is, along with Cy Young, a central deity, whose larger-than-life antics seem innocent after (and, in part, helped to facilitate) decades of mythologizing.  Ruth’s alcoholism and womanizing are venal offenses compared to, say, Ty Cobb’s violent racism, Shoeless Joe Jackson and the Black Sox, or decades of greenies, steroid controversy, and centaur portraits.  Instead, they're proof of his humanity.  Ruth is the great American athlete, and rightfully so—no one has ever dominated a sport as thoroughly as he dominated baseball, nor combined talent with humanity like he did. 

Football, true to its roots as the most democratic of American sports, has many candidates for the position of greatest ever.  Quarterbacks are the most obvious:  Otto Graham and Bart Starr, the definitive winners; Johnny Unitas, the pioneer; Joe Montana, Tom Brady, and Peyton Manning, all master practitioners of innovative strategies.  Running backs are also awash with possibilities:  Jim Brown and Barry Sanders, the best pure runners; Walter Payton and Emmitt Smith, well-rounded workhorses; Marshall Faulk and LaDainian Tomlinson, who redefined the position.  The competition runs deep at every position except wide receiver, and even with a well-established pantheon, there’s no Zeus here.

now they got the sun and they got the palm trees, they got the weed and they got the taxis.

--First off, for Firefox at least, if you want to open a link in a new window, hold CTRL and click on it.  Second, sorry for the hiatus - I've been ridiculously busy with the home stretch of schoolwork/out of the country (in Texas).

--This truly is one of the most ridiculous things I've ever seen, and provides superfluous evidence that every Hollywood exec in existence is ten years old.  In other news, though I generally shy away from Sean O'Neal's reviews, the man can write a headline.

--Speaking of the AV Club, their weekly series of covers by visiting musicians, AV Club Undercover, has been consistently good thus far.  Ben Folds' cover of Elliott Smith's "Say Yes" last week was my favorite of the bunch, and I can't wait for the "Two-Headed Boy" cover.

--Here's what this blog will look like when Geocities makes its inevitable comeback.  The internet is the best sometimes.

--And yet, it is also the worst sometimes.  Though Betty White has acquitted herself pretty admirably in her recent TV spots, the people who are clamoring for an octogenarian to return to the forefront of TV comedy right now deserve to watch this happen.  Sorry, Betty - it's...evolving.

--Whoever thought to do this is a saint.  Although I haven't been able to keep up with Treme as much as I'd like (and yikes has it gotten preachy), I can still appreciate the music, and it helps me get through the tedium of my job.

i tell you, like before, you should say his name the way he said yours.

I was trying - futilely, as it turned out - to do some research on the Mensheviks with this awful ringtone rap/Beyonce + thick-ass beats = profit/churning unremarkable synth-pop anthem party going on outside.  Just boring, reprehensible music.  Here's what I decided to do instead, before holing up in the library:

--This video is a beautiful idea beautifully executed; it's the Platonic ideal of ironic, retrosexual youtube videos.  "Help," by the way, has to be in my top five Beatles songs.  (h/t Videogum).

--Grant Hill seems like a cool guy, and J.A. Adande has a nice piece on what really is an incredible - and tragic, in the traditional sense of the word - story.  Speaking of current Phoenix Suns, Love in the Time of LeBron has some compelling reasons to like Channing Frye, the team's enormous Stephen Curry, and Steve Nash, the most consciously anti-mainstream MVP in any sport.  My favorites:  the most ridiculous man in the world, and the futuristic, web 2.0 commercial for VitaminWater's facebook.  (h/t SB Nation).

some thoughts on the draft.

--The big winners, as far as I'm concerned:

• The Ravens.  And the rich get richer.  They got Sergio Kindle, a first-round talent, in the second; they got even deeper on the defensive line by snagging Terrence Cody (with him next to Haloti Ngata, who's going to run on the Ravens?); they upgraded their biggest weakness on offense, TE, with two promising projects; and got some solid depth (and, in Art Jones, talent) with later picks.
• The Eagles.  They went in with a ridiculous number of draft picks, and made good use of nearly all of them.  They needed a pass rusher to complement Trent Cole, and picked up his clone Brandon Graham; they needed depth at safety, and they picked up the most well-rounded FS not named Eric Berry in Nate Allen; Charles Scott, Jamar Chaney, and Jeff Owens were all great late-round pickups (mid-round projections for all of them).
• The Seahawks.  Great first draft for Pete Carroll.  He picked up Russell Okung, a premier pass-blocking left tackle; Earl Thomas, a great coverage safety (or possibly zone cornerback); Golden Tate, maybe the best wideout in the draft; Kam Chancellor, Taylor Mays-lite; Walter Thurmond, a top-tier corner when healthy; and Anthony McCoy, as talented a tight end as any in this class.  Just a great draft for a team on the ropes.
• The Jets.  Pound-for-pound the best draft of any team this year.  They might have gotten the draft's best corner in Kyle Wilson (clearly Rex Ryan is down with the capital CPT, and who's going to throw on the Jets now?), a ridiculously talented but raw interior lineman in Vladimir Ducasse, and great value picks for the backfield in HB Joe McKnight and Kentucky FB John Conner.
• The Titans.  Terrific draft for the Titans.  They got three of my favorite prospects in WR Damian Williams, OLB Rennie Curran, and CB Alterraun Verner, to say nothing of Derrick Morgan, who might be the best DE in the draft.  Plus, safety depth and talent in Myron Rolle and Utah's Robert Johnson.
• The Raiders.  Not completely out of left field, although I will admit that I thought they'd draft Bruce Campbell a lot sooner.  McClain was a great pick for their burgeoning 3-4 defense (the skills I thought he'd bring to Buffalo will apply in Oakland), and Lamarr Houston is a talented, penetrating 3-4 DE.  They addressed the biggest questions on the offensive line with some high-risk, high-reward OTs in Jared Veldheer and Bruce Campbell.  Jacoby Ford will improve their return game, and Walt McFadden is a good corner.
• Honorable mentions:  the Bucs, Lions, and Packers.

you say you stand by your man -- mock draft 2.0.

I was pleased, generally speaking, with my first go-round at mocking this.  I'm still a little torn on whether I want to draft for what I think will happen or what teams need, but I tend towards the latter.  While my approach to the draft isn't unique (I've seen my top five from 1.0 repeated all over the interwebs) I do like to think that my analysis of each player brings something new to the table.

That said, here are some thoughts on my player rankings and the draft in general, accounting for better scouting reports/film availability/general reasoning:

• Bruce Campbell:  The most egregiously bad ranking from the last draft, Campbell was severely overrated because I didn't do my due diligence researching him; he's a ridiculous physical specimen, but the film doesn't justify a high selection (or even one before round four).
• Rolando McClain:  While I'm still very high on McClain, he may be a little stiffer in coverage than I realized, to say nothing of the defensive line talent keeping him clean on the field and the advantages of his coaching.  I still think he's a very safe pick and a three-down player for a 3-4 team, but there's more potential to bust than I acknowledged.
• Jimmy Clausen:  Doug Farrar brought up a very good point when he noted that Clausen's had the best possible coaching at every level, and as a result has very limited upside.  Factor in a surprisingly weak arm and possible leadership issues, and he's even less desirable than when I made my last draft.
• Ndamukong Suh:  If anything I've underrated Suh; I didn't realize just how much upper-body strength he had until I saw this, and the revelation that he was told to read-and-react, rather than go full speed, at Nebraska was really astounding.
• Don't be surprised in the slightest if the Saints or the Jets trade up for a marquee player; Jacksonville and Kansas City are both dying to get out of their draft slots.
• On the whole, this is a particularly good draft for defensive tackles (maybe the best ever), safeties (in contention with 1981 for the best ever), and wide receivers (remarkably deep), while being a poor one for defensive ends (seemingly everyone has question marks), corners (solid, but not much home-run talent), and quarterbacks (underwhelming).

'ey yo spiced-out calvin coolidge, loungin' with seven duelers.

--NBA playoff reflections:

• KG got suspended for this, which some people think will bring out the emotion the Celtics have been lacking, and which others, Joakim Noah included, think is yet another example of KG's dirty play.  As a known KG fan (even though he's made it very hard on me since ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE!!!!!!), I tend to think that KG's anger came more from the fact that he airballed a shot he would've sunk in his sleep just two years ago than any concern for Pierce.  His body is betraying him, and this season has given him a laundry list of reminders.  What I hate, though, is that people forget that the year he joined the Celtics he decisively won a vote of his fellow All-Stars on who they most wanted to see win a championship; I guess he's burned through all the goodwill he earned toiling in Minnesota.
• The offenses in the Nuggets-Jazz game were just ridiculously efficient, and Melo had a night befitting a superstar.  Even though I don't have any great love for the Nuggets, I'll gladly watch the Jazz lose every night.
• It's looking like my prediction for ugly games is going to come true in the East, and that the Heat are going to keep their streak of unwatchable playoff series alive.
• Finally, most of the games were more lopsided than the scores would show, especially in the East.  I can only hope that the Thunder will show a little more ferocity than they did in Game 1.

but to take on the world at all angles requires a strength i can't use.

--After a week or so of lackluster home stretch, the NBA Playoffs are finally here (beginning tomorrow night, I believe).  There are some really great series coming up, especially in the West.  Literally every one of the West's matchups has a compelling subplot:

• LA vs. Oklahoma City has Kobe vs. Durant, the past versus the future; the Lakers have been on a real slide, and the Thunder always play up against them;
• Denver vs. Utah has a great point guard matchup in Chauncey and Deron, and potentially great coaching; 
• Phoenix vs. Portland would've been better with Brandon Roy healthy, but Nate McMillan is the legitimate Coach of the Year because of how he's handled injuries, so I wouldn't count the Blazers out;
• and Dallas vs. San Antonio has two of the most veteran squads in the NBA, each of whom finished strong, and who are in position to make one last run at the Finals.

The East is, as you might expect, way less intriguing, but Boston v. Miami, Atlanta v. Milwaukee (even sans Bogut, which was a really tragic injury), and Orlando v. Charlotte should all have some throwback ugliness in their defense, just nasty.  If Orlando were to run a gauntlet of Charlotte, Boston, and Cleveland, they'd have nothing to fear from the West's defenses.  Finally, SBNation had a series of reasons to adopt each team, some of which (especially for the Lakers, Spurs, and Mavs) were very compelling, at least to non-fans.  I, for one, will be pulling for the Thunder, because I like Durant, because they'll be playing the Lakers, and because they're just so damned fun to watch.