May 20, 2010
I used to watch a fair bit of TV when I was a kid. It was easier in those days, cuz you would just turn the TV on, sit in a chair, and watch whatever was on. Too much work to get up and change the channel. The perfect vegetative state.
I can’t shake the image of a particular Saturday afternoon thriller/monster movie. I have no idea what it’s called, who was in it, pretty much nothing about it, except that there were a bunch of people, grad student types, trapped in some office building at night, and there was a monster who, I swear, was made of paper mache. Or just paper.
It’s possible it was a mummy. But I don’t think so. But I can see how you would assume it was a mummy.
My entire life, I’ve thought (not actively, mind you, but sometimes it just pops into my mind, kind of like Camp Waconga) of him/her/it as Paper Man. So I’m going to stick with Paper Man instead of Mummy Man. Or just Mummy.
I remember toward the end of this crazy movie, one of the victims, she was running, and somehow got stuck in an elevator and got squished in the doors. Back then that was a CRAZY way to die. Of course, now that I’m old, I’ve seen hundreds of ways to die in an elevator. But this was my first. So it was memorable.
Run away. But avoid the elevator.
Okay, these take some of the creepiness away, but Rick S. wanted more:
Actually, maybe it adds to the creepiness.
See, I’ve domesticated him. Now he makes copies.
And now, he’s made himself (or herself) right at home:
We’ve put him/her to work. Does this violate any child labor laws you think?