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I’ve been in the mood to write something a bit macabre, or at least something that doesn’t necessary have a happy ending - something with darkness, but filled with desire.

And thus I came up with Thorn Valley. Although it hasn’t been vetted properly, here’s the first chapter of the short story soon to be published. Enjoy, and I welcome comments.

Thorn Valley is a desolate place – or perhaps more accurately described, a dead place. A place where no plant, no animal, no anything could last for more than a few hours – maybe a day. Even the winds and rains avoided Thorn Valley, as if their essence would be smote if they remained too long.

Scattered across the land, the foolhardy adventurer would find clothing remnants, gold and silver jewelry, and numerous artifacts left by previous travelers. Well, not left exactly – more so they were all that remained of those previous travelers whose lives had ended here, and whose bodies and bones had long ago turned to dust. It seemed that despite their foreknowledge of this desolate and deadly place, once they entered the valley they found it impossible to escape.

While true that the valley held no life, it was the hunting ground for the dead – wraiths, spirits, melancholy and malevolent ghosts from years so ancient as to be uncountable. They hovered silently over the sands of time which blanketed the valley in a sparkling and awe inspiring blindness. The sun had no fear of this place – likely due only to its distance – and it sent its glowing warmth to beat upon the rocks and sand.

Outcroppings of boulders and smaller rocks were scattered across the floor of the valley. Had this been a living place, those areas would have made perfect hiding spots for numerous predators seeking to snare the unaware adventurer. Alas, what hid there now was much worse – a terror of shadow and void that sat quietly in wait for the next curious soul to venture across the threshold.

Most treasure seekers felt confident that they alone could overcome the valley to steal the riches of years past and return to fame and fortune. And likewise, the valley had seen to it to destroy each of them in devious and terrifying ways, slowly adding to its treasure.

* Thorn Valley excerpt copyright 2008 by Heath L. Buckmaster. All rights reserved.

One of the things that I wanted to do while my parents were here visiting was the Suspects Dinner Theatre aboard the majestic Delta King in Old Sacramento. If you haven’t been to the show, it’s an inexpensive way to visit a historic venue, have a pretty good dinner, and be entertained by a hilarious sequence of dastardly murders.

When you arrive you are taken to your assigned table and presented with an Answer Form. I won’t show you my answer form here, because if you’re planning to be at the show any time in the next several months it will ruin the surprise for you. Basically the answer form has you enter your name, list out the names of the three victims, the person(s) who murdered them, and why they were murdered.

That’s the nuts and bolts of the show, with a bunch of other ridiculousness sprinkled in for good measure. The actors did a great job keeping the crowd entertained, kept the evening flowing, and made for a very enjoyable evening.

Once the murders had taken place and they clues were reviewed, they collected all the answer forms for the “judging”. Basically the person who solved all three mysteries with the most amount of detail won, and they were awarded with the 1st Place Super Sleuth prize.

Guess who won?

That’s right. Yours truly got the top prize for getting all of the answers correct, and likely the most creative answers. I will admit that I did do a little kissing up to the judges on my answer form.

I MAY have insinuated that the judges were wonderful people, and I MIGHT have told them what a great job they were doing. But alas, I still got all the answers right ;-).

It was a delightful evening all around, and we got the chance to dress up a bit and solve a few murders.

If you get the opportunity, go see the show. You can buy tickets online or via phone, and they are very reasonable for an evening out. The show lasts about 2.5 hours, which includes the meal (your choice of beef, chicken, or vegetarian options), and the actors do a wonderful job - you might even recognize some of them from other work they’ve done in local theatres.

Good sleuthing everyone!

Some days ago, I was embroiled in an interesting conversation with a coworker about the stress and life-sucking that goes on because of work and life distractions. I was also noticing the volume of grey hair I’m developing above my ears. It might have been that which concerned me more than the other stuff, but regardless, it prompted a question, which I’ll get to in a moment.

In the last six months I have gone from having 3-5 grey hairs above my ears to over 20. Ok, maybe 30.

Six months! Granted, there have been some very stressful situations at work, but come on. I’m really not that old, and yet there they are…and they aren’t from age, they are 100% confirmed, from stress. I’ve had them tested. But that’s not the point. The point is, the thought that occurred was, could I sue for damages because my life has been sucked away from me not unlike the Pit of Despair scene in The Princess Bride? And if I could, how much is a year of life worth?

What is the value of one year of your life?

It’s got to be more than your annual salary, because that’s just an artificial valuation of your contributions (hopefully) based on measurements, statistics, averages, and other nonsensical stuff. Even if you determined an hourly rate of your life and multiplied it by the number of hours in a typical year (1 year = 8765.81277 hours) would that still really give you the true value of you living for a year?

How would you value the influence you have on others, or the changes you make that might cause something to happen a year from now that would never have happened had you not done the original thing? And realistically, COULD you even put a value on all the possible outcomes? Unlikely. So really what it comes down to is what would a jury of your peers award you for damages.

That’s where the numbers become fun. You can get billions of dollars from tobacco companies because you failed to heed the warnings about smoking (or the nasty smell that your friends constantly complained about). You can get millions upon millions in wrongful death lawsuits. So let’s say an entire life lost is worth, let’s find a recent one in the news, $25 million (that’s the supposed estimate for John Ritter).

If you average 85 years, that works out to about $294,117.65 a year. I think we know there are a heck of a lot of people who make more than that in their annual salary. Should those people be valued more than a famous actor who made us laugh and smile for so many years? Should those of us with significantly lower salaries or job glamour be devalued? Is there something like an adjustable rate mortgage on a year of your life than can wax and wane based on your annual accomplishments? If you influenced more people this year, are you worth more?

It’s completely philosophical I suppose, and I’m not really interested in finding THE answer…but I am interested in what YOU think the value of one year of your life is, and why.

SawI have finally seen the most disturbing movie since Seven. David has been trying to get me to watch this movie for a while now…he watched it many months ago shortly after we got the DVD, but for some reason I didn’t want to watch it at the time.

Part of me wishes I never had seen it, but part of me is very impressed by it. I suppose it’s similar to how I felt about Seven, which I have seen once and will never watch again. I found it to be so disturbing that I refuse to even have the DVD in the house. Excellent plot twists and suspense, but the depravity of the story just made me emotionally ill.

That’s almost exactly how I felt watching Saw. At first, the story was moving along very slowly, and more and more of the plot and backstory is revealed as the movie plays along. But once again, I felt that sick pre-diarhea feeling in my stomach at the mental torment I was experiencing.

Saw ClownI don’t ever want to see the movie again, though part of me wants to see the next ones in the series (I’ve read online synopsis of them and while incredibly disturbing, they seem to be very well written/executed - so to speak).

Cinematography was incredibly well done. The camera work was quite fluid, and I like some of the sped-up work they did during the flashbacks. The viewer actually felt what the characters were feeling. It was almost painful.

The story/writing, also excellent. If you didn’t know, the guy who played “Adam” was one of the writers. Very impressive detail in the story and amazingly well executed plot twists. I’m sort of interested to see the other movies just to see how well they are done (plus Donnie Wahlberg is in the next one).

As for gore, there is quite a bit, from a guy who has blown his brains out (supposedly), and a detective who takes a shotgun blast to the top of his head, to a girl who has to disembowel an alive but immobile man to get to a key that will save her life. (How did the key get there in the first place??)

I tell you, I’ve had dreams about it ever since we saw the movie, and it’s painful. I was up for hours last night seeing that freaking clown puppet in my mind.

Scary Movie 4 - UnratedThe only thing that got me through it was that we watched Scary Movie 4 right afterward, which spoofs Saw (among other movies). So as my mind was sending me into nightmares wondering if the Jigsaw killer was going to capture me and put me into one of his bizarre traps, I was desperately clinging to the ridiculousness of Scary Movie 4. It barely got me through it.

That’s all. I didn’t intend to write a review really, just my mental torment from having seen this movie.

Old news, but…when shopping for a gift for your rebellious teenager this year, you might want to avoid buying him a gun. Also note that if you are in possession of a gun, and you stick that gun into your pants, please be aware of the position of the safety.

3:03 p.m. PT Nov 15, 2006

WICHITA, Kan. - A botched kidnapping ended with one of the assailants shooting himself in the groin, Wichita police said.

For those of you who live many miles away and were unable to attend our 2007 Haunt…I made a little video for you to experience it.

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And if you want to hear the reaction from one of our visitors…listen here.

By popular demand, I present to you again, the true story of Halloween.


Spooky PumpkinsIs everyone feeling hella good??? I know that when this special dark day of the year rolls around (not to be confused with Hershey’s Special Dark Chocolates), I’m feeling hella great! Or for those of you with small children reading this, you are permitted to feel hecka great, although hecka great doesn’t even come close to feeling hella great.What a joyous and fun day to celebrate the exhumation of spirits and ghouls and ghosts and zombies that creep out from every tomb and are closing in to seal your doom (snaps to MJ). Hellaween is my second favourite helladay just after Xmas. Third on the list is Turkey Day, and then after that, there are no other helladays that float my boat. Hellaween and Xmas are the only two major helladays in our culture that require massive amounts of decorations, themed parties, and costuming. Houses are decorated with strands of orange lights and pumpkins for Hellaween, and are decorated with strands of white and multicoloured lights and trees for Xmas.Dead DavidHellaween brings us carved pumpkins, while Xmas brings us carved turkeys and hams. For the dark helladay we dress up in costumes that could be scary, funny, wild, or crazy, and for the bright helladay, we dress up in festive reds and whites indicative of the leader of Xmas, Santa Clause. Hellaween, however, doesn’t really have the same type of official mascot as Xmas. In fact, when we look across the gamut of helladays, can you think of any other that has that official figurehead? Personally I think it’s about time for an officially designated leader of Hellaween.

Those of you who are huge fans of The Nightmare Before Xmas, may begin the lobby for Jack Skellington, that hollow-headed, insane creature who has a fascination for women with stitches all over their bodies. Others of you might feel that because this is the dark helladay, we need a more loathsome, e-ville (as in frew-its of the de-ville) type of creature like Satan, the Devil, Lucifer, Beelzebub, the Fallen One, or some other derivative of the former angel of music (if you didn’t get this, please refer to the Music Makes a People Come Together Editorial).

But this can’t be a happy story…we are talking about the dark helladay you know…so let us reflect on that most memorable day in our history…The Great Hellaween Massacre

REDRUMEnter my Hellavision. A massively evil orange pumpkin man, basically the size of the Stay Puft Marshmallow man from that classic Hellaween movie, Ghostbusters. What other figure could simultaneously cause explosions of laughter and screams of terror from children everywhere, as the Hellaween Evil Man-Pumpkin (HEMP) comes crashing through their neighbourhoods, stealing candy, decorations, and any child dressed up as a pumpkin.

Panic would ensue on Hellaween, as children everywhere begin to see a massive pumpkin moving toward their city. Not knowing what was happening, who this was, where it came from, and why it was so orange and as big as the sun. The screaming would start, as trick-or-treat’ers would begin the mad dash home, as the HEMP begins taking over the terrified population, summoning ghosts and ghouls from the depths of every mortuary in town.

Eerie bats, who make that WEEE WEEE WEEE sound would fly out from caverns deep in the mountains…vampire bats, swooping down on unsuspecting children, picking them up and carrying them into the lair of the evil HEMP. There he would munch and crunch (good crunchings and munchings, snaps to DB).

Screams would come from all corners of the globe as children raced to change their costumes into something other than pumpkins so that the HEMP would pass them over. Parents would quickly smash all of their carved pumpkins into the street, not only in protest and defiance, but so the HEMP wouldn’t see how they had desecrated his next of kin. Orange lights on houses would quickly be replaced with black, so the HEMP couldn’t see the scared children hiding behind the fake tombstones and witch statues.

Spooky Halloween StuffHEMP would smash buildings, rip out trees, break darns causing huge floods, throw cars around like little toys, express copious amounts of cloudy gas from his pumpkin butt, and generally irritate anyone in the vicinity. After an unnecessary number of hours, the government would declare a state of emergency. The HEMP must be stopped! We must send in the armed guards dressed in orange camo! We must send in hellacopters and tanks! We must smite the HEMP and protect our children from the dark helladay! But the HEMP would be too powerful against the tiny army that was left after the rest of them had already been sent across the world to smite a secondary evil, and so the people of the country would unite against HEMP on their own. (there would be a special referendum that they would vote on, to abolish the HEMP)

“DOWN WITH THE HEMP, DOWN WITH THE HEMP” they would shout, as parents and children would arm themselves with the pitchforks that were stuck in haystacks in their front yard decorations, and carving knives from the pumpkin carving set, and torches burning bright to illuminate the city in the unnatural darkness of Hellaween. HEMP would crash into the center of the town, surrounded by an angry mob, blasting his cloudy gas and grabbing children who hadn’t had time to change costumes and sending them flying into his gaping, toothy mouth.

The angry crowd would begin chanting, “BURN THE HEMP, BURN THE HEMP, SMOKE HIM OUT!!!”. Flames would erupt around the HEMP, as he tried to jump up a building and get away from the flames, but the force of the parents and children in costumes would overpower him, burning his tender orange flesh. Dark black smoke would fill the air on Hellaween, blocking out the last rays of the smoldering sun, sending children and parents dashing through the darkness with costumes and capes blowing behind, as the HEMP comes crashing down into a blaze of glory. A Hellaween bonfire if you will.

The HEMP gets hotter and hotter, he starts to expand, and bulge, then suddenly explodes, sending bits of pumpkin and freshly baked seeds flying across all corners of the earth, smacking children in the face blowing them miles away with the force of the seeds. Ghosts and ghouls flying in every direction with faces full of cooked pumpkin. Showers of orange splattering houses and buildings, trees and mountains, filling the lakes and rivers with an orange soupy gunk.

At last the explosions stop. The angry and scared people stand dumbstruck at the carnage around them. People drip with pumpkin, wandering about looking for loved ones, on this the Great Hellaween Massacre. But as the rebuilding process begins, and as parents find their children, still in costume, but scattered far and wide, they realize that the day has been saved, and joyous cheering erupts from every mouth (along with seeds and pumpkin rind).

“HURRAY, HURRAH, the HEMP IS GONE!!!!!”

The government, satisfied that the HEMP has been abolished, goes back into hibernation. While the people gather round, bringing bags of brown sugar, salt, baking soda, and nutmeg, and enjoy freshly baked pumpkin pie to celebrate the defeat of the HEMP. Then suddenly, they realized that the HEMP wasn’t really all that bad. Yes it had caused some destruction of city property, and yes it had caused people to run around screaming and laughing and doing foolish things, but there had also been a wonderful byproduct of the HEMP…this delicious and wonderful pumpkin pie that they were now enjoying, and the fantabulous baked seeds that they were crunching.

Suddenly the crowd began to sing, “LONG LIVE THE HEMP, LONG LIVE THE HEMP!!”

And so even today, on this special dark helladay, as we remember the sacrifices made by the people during the Great Hellaween Massacre, we are reminded that the HEMP really wasn’t all that bad.

Happy Hellaween everyone, and enjoy that pumpkin pie :-).

Boo!