Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude
Where Great Intelligence Goes To Be Insulted

Monday, 19 March 2018

The Dreams And Nighmares Of Our Childhood

Actually, these two are a little before my time. By the time I was old enough to watch TV and get what was going on, colour TV was well established.

The earliest horror show I can remember watching was War Of The Worlds - on Dad's brand new colour TV.

If I recall there was a scene in that one where the hero shines a flash light into the martian's eyes and I remember laughing at the silly special effects. I think that the martian got an axe in the head too. As a tot I couldn't really appreciate it. Then I watched it again a couple years later and it scared the hell out of me.

What I would give to go to a movie like this again - where the effort is at telling a story to entertain rather than lecture. I watched the re-make of the this old classic but still prefer the original.


  1. can't get the z man web log to come up on the computer. has he been axed by the fascist commies?

  2. I am still getting him Deb - he has this weird re-direct thing going on with his blog though...

  3. I saw Forbidden Planet on TV when I was 6 or so. This was the epitome of what a good science fiction film should be. It had all the elements: Space travel, advanced technology, ray guns, a killer robot, a real killer dame, and an invisible monster with big round feet. I was more scared of the robot than the invisible monster.

    The killer robot (Robbie the Robot) was not a real robot, but was actually Frankie Darro (1917–1976), a jockey sized actor and sometime stunt man.

    Another interesting bit of trivia is the inclusion of the the id, ego, and superego. For those of you who lack a formal education (or majored in beer drinking), your id provides you with the deep-rooted, primitive urge to jump a hot blonde, eat meat when you're hungry, and to choke the living shit out of some asshole who desperately needs it.

    Your super-ego reminds you that the hot blonde likely finds you as appealing as an overflowing ash tray, that the steak you want belongs to a high class restaurant and you can't afford it this week, and common law prohibits choking the living shit out of the dumb-ass that you work for who has just gotten on your very last nerve.

    The ego mediates between the id and the super-ego. It reminds you that hot blonde women like money, that you have a couple c-notes stashed under your mattress for a rainy day, and that if you time it right, you could conceivably wait until your boss is seated on the crapper before scaring the constipation out of him with a rubber snake. Or a real one.

    So this is one of my all time favorite films, and a great classic.