POST 666: THE DEVIL THAT WALKS AMONG US-A LIFELONG LOVE AFFAIR WITH MICHAEL MYERS

Six more days til Halloween, Halloween, Halloween. Six more days til Halloween, SILVER SHAMROCK!  Today embarks on a cliche horror day, as this will be the six hundred and sixty sixth post on Day of the Woman.  Rather than go the predictable route and write about something religious (since I've already covered it), I chose a more personal topic: The devil that walks among us.  Michael Myers is hands down my favorite of the main slashers.  Despite the recent reboot of the franchise, my heart has always remained in the sleepy town of Haddonfield, Illinois.  As the holiday of his namesake peeks its head around the hedges, it's only fitting that I finally fess up and admit my love for the Shatner faced shape.   

My earliest recollection embarking the emotionless maniac was after my fifth Halloween, the first trick or treating experience I can consciously remember.  I had spent the evening running around the neighborhood dressed as the Wicked Witch of the West and cackling at children in the street.  Even as a kindergartner, I was a big crusader for remaining in character.  After the night was overtaken with hooligans intent on smashing pumpkins and stealing children from unsupervised toddlers, I managed my way back into the front door with my pillowcase filled with sugar dragging behind me.  The living room was dim and my mother sat with a wine glass in hand with her face glued to the television.  Exhausted, my dad picked up my (at the time) two year old sister and retired for the remainder of the night.  I poured out my conquests into the middle of the living room and began organizing the horde (something I would do every year following).  After the chocolates were separated from the sour, my mother extended a makeup remover wipe to me and simply said "Come here, I want to show you something". 

I climbed on top of the couch and snuggled into my mother's embrace.  The film began to roll, and I don't think I blinked the entire duration of the film. It was as if some sort of supernatural force had taken a hold of my psyche and forced my eyes wide A Clockwork Orange style without any contraption to hold them open.  I sat on the couch paralyzed and my mother just looked down at me and said "So, what'd you think?"  I turned to look back up at her and at full conviction exclaimed "THAT WAS THE COOLEST MOVIE I'VE EVER SEEN!"

Years would go by and my infatuation with The Shape grew to an almost unhealthy level.  I found myself renting the films as much as humanly possible and shutting down my entire evening if AMC were to play it on television.  There was an instance one Halloween where a teenager wore a Michael Myers costume and just stood silently in the middle of the street.  I couldn't walk down the block if I saw him there.  For as scared as I was, I couldn't help but hope that I'd see him at the end of the road whenever I turned a corner. 

Maybe it is the preference he has for murdering people in the comfort of their own home, or the fact he shows absolutely no signs of struggle or weakness while he does it.  Michael is the embodiment of pure evil and he makes it his goal to assure that you're aware of it.  He doesn't need one-liners or a slew of imaginative means of torture to destroy his victims.  He slashes, and he dashes...and yet makes sure his victims feel every single second slip away.  He's not just a serial killer, he's a cruel personification of malevolence.  To top it all off...he can't die.  It doesn't matter what anyone does to him, he can not die.  If anything, that's the scariest part of him all.  Michael Myers is the epitome of a horror icon and has been a staple in my little horror pumping heart.  Here's to you, Michael Myers for your successful career causing nightmares, surviving any and every challenger, and making a name for yourself as the perfect example of a Halloween slasher.