Back Away from the Video Store Shelf and Run Like Hell

In my most recent remembered nightmare, I gave birth to a small, amorphous monster. My spouse prepared some baby formula and fed the thing. After expressing my doubts about the wisdom of ever feeding it again, I went into its room, where it lay writhing and transforming, heaving and growing. It became a partial skeleton (skull and torso, both adult-sized) with very hairy skin on the back.

The thing lifted its skull-head slightly and said, “Mommy, my first skin grew out!”

I blame this dream on a recent trip to the local video store, where one of the “recent arrivals” featured very realistic images of murder (by chainsaw, by knife, by garrote, and even by fire) on the damned box, which anyone above about 3 feet in height could grab.

Are movies about serial killers the new pornography? Why would anyone want to see a movie about made-up (but gory) graphic violence, especially when there’s so much real-life graphic violence?