I was on a podcast!!!

Hey folks,
This week the good people at Heave Media were kind enough to ask me to join them for a special podcast on Valentine’s Day and date movies.
Naturally, I had very little to contribute… but still, the guys I recorded with were a bunch of fun and thankfully, they had more wisdom to impart than I do haha
Please take some time to check it out and sound off on their website!
You can find the podcast right here!

A Fanboy’s Love Letter to Ti West

I don’t identify with directors. I don’t follow them, professing some sort of intimate knowledge of the inner workings of a film director or blindly worship all of the films in a director’s filmography. After all, even Guy Ritchie has his Revolver. Still, every once in a long while, a director comes along with an indescribable potential and no signs of stopping any time soon. This is rare. As a horror fanboy, the discovery of a solid and consistent director is even rarer. Thankfully, the world has delivered us Ti West.

The 31-year old director has already made for himself in the horror scene. Granted, a fair amount of the attention he was paid when first starting out was a very public dispute between West and the studio’s interference in the editing process of Cabin Fever 2. Luckily, this was the same year as his critically acclaimed House of the Devil.

However, the charm of West and his films has very little to do with controversy or critical acclaim. What makes Ti West such a memorable and engaging director for self-identified fanboys, such as myself, it is his own identity as a fanboy. While West, who has played director, writer, and editor to many of his films, is first and foremost a filmmaker tied to no genre, his familiarity with the genre makes for an engaging exercise in terror. For instance, House of the Devil is filmed in the style of a 1980s Satanic cult movie. But with a movie like this, it’s not just about the content or the look of the film itself. West manages to inject the era into every facet of the film, from the old-school Coke cups to the soundtrack.

But what’s most impressive about House of the Devil and even more so his recent directorial effort, The Innkeepers, is that these films are so firmly rooted in a time or place, but that does little to contain the fear. Even with such an established setting, there’s a timeless feel to his stories. West explores this in-depth with the Innkeepers which can, at best, be described as a good, old-fashioned ghost story. It doesn’t inundate its audience with jump scares or gore, but it is still one of the most effective ghost stories I’ve seen in years.

While these are two of his most well-known films and significantly different from one another, the common thread is director Ti West. Somehow managing to celebrate the classics of horror, he has managed to instill them with a modern sensibility. he has managed to make something timeless in a day and age where every film seems to have a shelf life.

My Name is Calhoun… and I Have a Guilty Pleasure

This isn’t a shocking admission on my part. Most people who know me, or have at least seen my movie collection, have seen an embarrassing array of guilty pleasures (yes, that’s Charlie’s Angels on blu-ray) but who among us doesn’t have a guilty pleasure? For some of us (okay… it’s me) it’s the high-school rom-com that perpetuates unrealistic ideals of beauty and high school life. For others it’s stoner movies like Harold & Kumar and Half-Baked. The point isn’t “what are our guilty pleasures?” After all, there’s as natural as a gerbil’s urge to eat her own young… okay, maybe that’s a bad example, but guilty pleasures are normal, believe me. The question is, “what do we do with them?”

Personally, I’ve always felt that the shame comes from hiding them. Yeah, I own Josie & the Pussycats starring the all-but-forgotten Rachel Leigh Cook and Ms. Tara “Bad Boob Job” Reid, what of it? It makes me happy. Now, I’m not saying I find it terribly intellectually stimulating… although one could make a case that the film serves as a scathing indictment of modern consumerism… sorry, that’s the film school talking. The point is, not everything we watch has to be “Best Picture” at the Oscars material. Hell, look at some of the stuff that even the Oscars pick. I mean, seriously? Marisa Tomei won an Oscar for My Cousin Vinny. Don’t get me wrong, fun movie, but it’s hardly a revolutionary achievement in filmmaking.

Maybe it’s the fact that I’m constantly surrounded by media scholars, whom I love, but the instinct to defend your guilty pleasures is such an unusual one to me. At what point did we stop accepting the reasoning of, “I watch it because it makes it me happy” and start analyzing every piece of content?

I’m not saying I’m any better. I look for cultural value in everything, even when it’s not there. Seriously, try to find value in things like Bones. It’s not there. It’s entertainment. The problem is, these products of the media do say something about the society that produces them. It speaks to our interest in the ever-violent world of crime. It says something about our fascination with a woman in a typically male-dominated world (or at least that is how it is portrayed).

So how do we reconcile these two areas? Between not taking our TV shows and movies too seriously but also recognizing that they aren’t as frivolous as they seem on the surface? This is the constant struggle in the world of media studies and unfortunately, it doesn’t seem as we’re any closer to finding that elusive “answer.” Mainly because it seems that there is none. But just remember, next time you’re watching your guilty pleasure, try to ignore the question of what does this television show or movie say about you, but don’t forget what media is always saying to you.

The Dying Art of the No-Show in ‘Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark’

Horror is in a constant state of flux. Just from the time I was born back in 1987, I personally have seen the birth and death of the original slasher franchises (Halloween, Friday the 13th, and A Nightmare on Elm Street) and their subsequent resurrection in the late 2000s, the rise of the J-horror film (American remakes of Japanese imports), and the creation of the torture porn sub-genre. While it seems like none of these films have much in common, besides the blanket term of “horror”, these films are indicative of a new trend in the genre. While horror used to be recognized for its dimly-lit hallways and lurking shadows, modern horror has taken a sharp turn towards the aggressive and the obvious.

Audiences are no longer content with what they can’t see. They are no longer satisfied with Carpenter’s overly-simplified explanation of Michael Myers’ evil. Instead of the one line it was afforded in the seminal 1978 Halloween, it is the subject of great debate and roughly 45 minutes of exposition in Rob Zombie’s 2007 reboot. There is no more appreciation for the mystery of the horror genre. Quite literally everything is on display, from the villains themselves to the innards of their victims.

However, it must be understood that there has been a significant shift in the horror genre to overcompensate for these seemingly drastic changes. For instance, what would Saw be without the deliberate focus on the pain, suffering, and bodily harm of its protagonists? If the horror genre was relegated to only these cinematic blood baths, while that may pose a problem for the genre itself, horror would no longer, seemingly, be in conflict with itself.

As it exists now, horror has two extremes. On the one hand you have literal blood baths that seem to bask in the blood of their victims. On the other hand, you have the quieter, more subdued stories, which are frequently incorrectly referred to as psychological thrillers. While the two can certainly co-exist, horror films are being forced more and more often to try and reconcile the two extremes.

A prime example of this attempt, and inability to make peace between the two extremes is the 2011 remake of Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark. The movie follows a young girl, Sally (Bailee Madison), as she moves in with her father (Guy Pearce) and his girlfriend Kim (Katie Holmes). It isn’t long before Sally begins to hear strange voices and see strange things, which causes Kim to worry about the young girl’s safety and sanity.

At its core, Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark is equal parts creature-feature and psychological horror film. However, where the film could play with its audience, making us question Sally’s sanity along with Kim, instead it provides too many answers.

It is less than a half an hour into the film before we are given our first glimpse of the creatures. Well, glimpse doesn’t seem to be the proper word. We are given a full-body shot of these mysterious beings. Already, the film strips itself of half of its mystery and charm. Whereas other films seem to relish in the unknown, such as the 1963 The Haunting or more recently the 2001 film The Others, Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark falls in that all too common trap of showing its hand far too early.

But Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark suffers for more than its obvious scares and poorly-animated creatures. To add insult to injury, the creatures are given a voice. In a film such as this, the creepy whispers and unsettling noises are to be expected. In fact, they’re a necessity. However, the film gives its creatures too many speaking lines. In easily one of the most obvious displays of this problem Sally, in a state of panic, screams “what do you want?!?” to the creatures. Instead of letting the audience discover the answer to this question for themselves, the creatures answer, “we want you!!!” The fact that, point-blank, the creatures provide their own motives in a raspy voice is inexcusable.

While there are a number of films that suffer from the drastic shift in horror from its original air of mystery to its more deliberate explanation of itself, Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark assaults its audience with its failures. It isn’t just that the film isn’t subtle or shows too much. It’s that the film falters when it doesn’t explain itself, but doesn’t have the courage of its convictions to stand on its own. While studio heads seem to see the horror industry (showing too much vs. not showing enough) at odds with itself, in trying to reconcile the two extremes, they create a conundrum within one film. Unfortunately, Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark is that film.

New Year’s Resolutions I Vow Not to Vow to Do

It’s that time of year again! The time where we abandon our whole notion of “love yourself for who you are” and hop on the crazy “you fuck-up, just fix your goddamn life already” bandwagon. personally, I’ve never been one for New year’s Resolutions. I mean, you hafta come up with a new one every year… that’s a lotta work! Personally, I’ve never been much for introspection anyways, but in the spirit of self-improvement, I’ve decided I’d do a little work on Me, Myself, & I. Rather than set myself up for failure by picking things I won’t do, I decided I’d recognize my shortcomings and pick the list of New Year’s Resolutions I won’t be doing. It’s probably a shorter list anyways.

1) Drink Less.
Here’s the thing, people have bandied about the term “functioning alcoholic” in reference to me for years. The term seems a little colorful for my taste, but hey, whatever works. If I stopped drinking, I’d stop being “me.” Besides, has anyone stopped to think maybe the drinking thing isn’t my problem? If other people stopped being so boring when I was sober, maybe, just maybe, I’d drink less. The sad part is I don’t see either of those things happening.

2) Get Out More.
I can’t tell you how many people tell me their New Year’s resolution is to be more social. My question for them is, “why?” I mean, think about it. A New Year’s resolution takes place at the beginning of a new year, right? Why the hell are you gonna start going out more in the middle of January? Maybe if I didn’t live in Chicago, but even then, there’s the whole problem that most people I encounter can’t even tell the difference between their right and their left. Once again, why should I punish myself by listening to some douchebag prattle on about his “killer workout at the gym yesterday”?

3) Stop eating fried foods.
Why would I do that? They taste good.
Besides, it’s in the best interest of the general public that I keep eating fast food from time to time. I can get pretty damn cranky without my Wendy’s.

4) Work out.
This one has more to do with the rest of the world than it does myself. Getting in shape is one of the most common New Year’s resolutions there is. Let’s overlook my general dislike os floor-length mirrors and sweating in public. There is, of course, the obvious matter of not handling crowds well. Now imagine, if you can, the hordes of people who are actually delusional enough to think that they’ll stick with their New year’s resolutions. Most of ‘em make it through the first month or so, making the gyms extra crowded, before dropping off. My refusal to make the New Year’s resolution of getting back in shape is really for them more than it is for myself. Think about it, by joining a gym, I’m just denying some hausfrau access to an Elliptical and her daytime talk shows. Now what kind of a human being would I be if I did that? I just couldn’t live with myself.

5) Stop being so fucking cynical.
Yeah, this one’s just not gonna happen.

New blog!

Alright, you folks have been good to me all this time and I hate to blow your minds with yet another one of my staggering works of genius, but I just created a new blog. That’s right, I’m up to four now…
Anyways, if you find yourself looking to kill some time on the internet (let’s be realistic, you probably will…) please take a look at my latest blog, Drunk Good Idea/Sober Bad Idea. Thanks, folks!

5 Things I’m Thankful For That I’m Not Saying at the Thanksgiving Table

I don’t know what it is about this time of year that gets me thinking about things that I’m thankful for. It could be the cool, crisp Fall weather… but I never really leave my house so it’s probably not that. Or the taste of pumpkin pie? But I don’t like pie either… well, whatever the reason, this time of year (Thanksgiving as I’ve cleverly decided to call it. It’s catchy, right?) just makes me grateful for everything I’ve got.

Now I understand that the long-standing tradition is to go around the table and rattle off every little inane thing that comes into your mind. Seriously, one time my little cousin actually said she was thankful for buttons. A lotta brain cells were wasted on that Thanksgiving day feast… but there are a couple things that might get in the way of me commiserating with my family over a turkey dinner.

1) I’m not going home for Thanksgiving. I’m not saying this in a desperate attempt for others’ pity. I’m merely stating it as a fact.
2) Seriously, no one can make you less thankful for the wonderful things you’ve got, like time with my family.
3) The things I’m really thankful for? Well, there’s no way in hell I’m saying those in front of family.

That’s where you come in, dear reader. I’m sorry. By the time you get to the end of this list, you’ll probably want those 10 minutes of your life back, plus the handful of brain cells that were wasted on these words. Nevertheless, I feel like, by now, I’ve given you fair warning.

Proceed at your own risk.

5. My Physical Appearance

Okay, this one makes it sound like I’ve got a bit of an ego, but I swear it isn’t like that. Okay, it’s kinda like that, but allow me to explain about my physical appearance. Most of you have seen pictures of me before, but for those of you who haven’t, I’m about 5′ 11″, shaggy dirty blond hair, roughly 175 lbs. and about 10 tattoos. In short, a lotta people don’t bother me. In fact, a lotta people don’t talk to me. That’s the way I like it. Now, anyone who has spoken to me tends to know that I’m not exactly an intimidating guy, but from the looks of it, most people just don’t wanna bother me. Now that I think about it, the pedo beard can’t be doing wonders for me either. No complaints from me though.

4. The Religious Right

I admit that sometimes I can be a little overzealous when it comes to my politics. I think it comes from growing up in a family whose motto was, “whoever says it the loudest, is right.” So naturally, I can relate to the outspokenness of the Religious Right. But my love of them doesn’t come from the political fervor they stir up. See, the news is a bit rough for me to watch. It always seems like it’s murder and rape, followed by a fluffy kitten, with an extra dose of arson at the end of every half hour. In short, it’s depressing. But then every so often, the Religious Right makes an appearance. Whether it’s the Westboro Baptist Church protesting yet another funeral or the proclamation that gays chose their sinful lifestyle. It could get to me. I could easily just get annoyed, but let’s be real, it’s kinda funny. Every so often there’s a moment that makes me think “oh shit, these guys are for real” but then, without fail, they do something ridiculous to discredit themselves. It’s always a good time.

3. Pre-marital Sex

I guess we have the Religious Right to thank for this one. See, I could be upset about the fact that people are so intent on legally barring me the right to marry, but who are we kidding? I’ve flipped a couple chapters ahead and even if I did get married, it doesn’t end well.So, I’m torn between abstaining and pre-marital sex. Well, when you put it like that, it seems like an easy choice, right? The way I see it, either I’m goin’ to hell for being gay or I’m goin’ to hell for pre-marital sex. So why not go to hell for gay pre-marital sex? It seems like a pretty natural progression.

2. The Size of the United States

I’m not a family man. I don’t do well with large groups of relatives. The Kersten family has pockets all over the U.S. There are some in Iowa, some in Minnesota, and a large chunk in California. Me? I’m in Chicago. Faaaar away from California. Meaning, my family gatherings are traditionally limited to the standard holidays (Thanksgiving, Christmas, etc.) Well, this year I’m working the day after Thanksgiving. Traveling from California to Chicago on Thanksgiving day to make it back for Black Friday? I don’t think so. And that is how you get out of a family Thanksgiving.

1. Being 21 at Family Gatherings

Still, I’m not always so lucky. Every so often, I get dragged to a family event. But does anyone know what family events mean? More often than not, high-end booze that I would never be able to afford myself. I figure, if I’m stuck with the family, I’m at least gonna be sauced… which now seems like a questionable train of thought. For those of you that may be worried that I’m delving into the early stages of alcoholism, I dare you to spend a weekend with my family with no whiskey. I’m telling you, it can’t be done.

The Trials and Tribulations of the Bearded Man

Tis the season, right? In honor of the unofficial month-long holiday, No-Shave November, I, Calhoun Kersten, your humble blogger, have been abstaining from shaving. Now, I know what you’re thinking, it’s a risky venture. After all, it’s a certain type of guy that can pull off a beard. And I’m here to tell you, I am not one of them.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, I always look good. But the beard is slowly taking over. Not just my face, because let’s be real, it’s still kinda patchy, but my life. I’ve become that guy who’s all about his beard.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I bumped into you, I couldn’t see you past my glorious full beard.”

“What’s that? I didn’t hear you. I got distracted by looking at my majestic facial hair in that slightly reflective surface.”

I mean, it’s becoming a real problem. I can’t even think without drawing attention to my beard. In the time that it’s taken me to write these 160-some words, I’ve stopped and found myself stroking my beard, deep in thought, at least three times.

But here’s the thing, it’s not just about what the beard is doing to me. The beard changes other people too. Suddenly, mothers pull their children close to them when they pass me on the street. I didn’t realize that growing facial hair automatically made me the next candidate for a Dateline To Catch a Predator special. Although now that I think about it, it is kinda hard to remember the last sex offender I saw on the news that didn’t have facial hair… I’m pretty sure the facial hair and pedophilia aren’t related, but it does seem to be an unfortunate coincidence.

It’s not just people looking at me like I’m a creep though. I recently wrote a blog post about my facial hair for Random Letters to the World where I received a rude awakening from one reader. Her comment is as follows…

“I am female, and though I understand a lot of gender-specific fixations, I don’t at all understand what the fascination is with men and their beards (or lack thereof).
I have met completely well rounded and confident men who are fixated on beards. They either have a completely absurd beard and long hair, making it so you cant see their faces (just eyes and fur) or they try so hard to grow in beards and facial hair that its almost as if their biology is spiting them. Evolutionarily I cannot imagine that its completely beneficial, as i have not found many women who are attracted to men with that degree of facial hair, and further not actually knowing what someone looks like underneath it all seems a bit unsettling. If they shaved and you saw them the next day you might not know who they are…”

Oh, I’m sorry miss, I didn’t realize that my choice to grow facial hair was so distressing to you. If I had known it would upset someone who has never commented on my blog before and probably will never read it again, I would have chosen a different way to celebrate No Shave November. Perhaps a festive bundt cake?

But that’s not the point either. I’ve noticed that since growing a beard, I’ve attracted a lot more public attention. And not just the people saying my beard is ugly. Other bearded people have started talking to me. It’s like I’m in this secret club of other people that I’d really just rather not talk to. It’s nothing personal, I just prefer my quiet, solitary thing. But the amount of people talking to me plus the amount of people that now avoid me? Well, ya know how they say “any publicity is good publicity”? Yeah, that’s not so much true when you have random women on the internet basically telling you that you’re ugly, weird dudes complimenting you on your ability to grow hair or when people start looking at you like a registered sex offender.

An Exercise in Self Loathing

I’m not one to dwell on the past. Hard to imagine, right? I mean, I was a cute fuckin’ kid. But still, there’s something kinda sad about spending all of your time thinking about the past. I don’t mean in a “live in the now” kinda way. In fact, the only thing I hate more than the “stop and smell the roses” people are the douche bags who say “live in the now.” I dunno, maybe it has something to do with growing up in upper-middle class, predominantly white suburbia and being “different.” (Tip to the young ones, that’s probably just your guidance counselors code word for “homo” but he doesn’t wanna say it for fear of having a potential lawsuit on his hands) Or maybe it has something to do with being a little chunk monster. (Don’t ask for photo evidence, I made sure I destroyed all traces of my fat kid days)

But even though things are going so swimmingly now, what with the unemployment and the never-ending tedium of grad school, I like to reflect on my humble beginnings. How do I do this? Well, since I destroyed most photographic evidence of having a childhood, it’s a little harder than it is for most people. My preferred method? I like to look back on the music that’s played a part in my life.

Believe it or not, I still keep track of a lot of my old playlists. It’s less about the sentimentality and more about the amount of effort that it takes to go through all my playlists and decide which ones to keep. Besides, who knows when I’m gonna wanna go back and listen to 90s favorite, Creed?

This is where the self-loathing part comes in… every so often, when I feel myself getting a bit of an ego and I need to cool off a little, I simply pop on one of my old playlists. Nothing beats down an ever-expanding ego like looking back at the music you used to like. Seriously, my first mix CD of all time features Destiny’s Child. No matter how many times I wish it to be so, that kind of damage just can’t be undone.

And so, there you have it; my method of keeping myself in check is mix CDs. No exception. It’s gotta be a full mix CD. We’re talkin’ all 70 minutes of bitter nostalgia. Usually by song three, I find myself suddenly understanding Vincent Van Gogh’s desire to cut his ear off. It was because he had “Hit Me Baby One More Time” on three mix CDs, right? Look, I’m not here to debate historical facts, I’m just sayin’, I get where the guy was coming from.

But regardless of his motivation for doing it, at least my motivation is clear. Like I said, nothing bruises the ego quite like seeing where you came from. And when your childhood is decorated with 90s pop divas (Seriously, how I didn’t know I was gay until high school is totally beyond me…) and douche bag 90s Top 40 staples like Scott Stapp, it’s hard not to be thankful that you’ve left those days behind you.

Back in Black… Well, it’s really more of a charcoal peacoat, but still…

Hey all,
I know it’s been awhile since I’ve posted, but this last quarter saw me tasked with making another website, .
When you’ve got a new website for class, on top of Reasons Why I’m Still Single and Random Letters to the World ,it ends up taking quite a bit of effort.

But Goonies never say die, right? And so I’m back to continue to my various rantings and ravings.
… you’re welcome.

Sincerely,
Calhoun