Salt City Sinner

  G(o)od versus (d)Evil is a trite, boring horror conceit.

  Steve paced the halls of his mansion, hands bunched behind his back.

  A WISE INVESTMENT! Business owners! Do they ever shut the fuck up?

Why does Stephen King get a pass on his role as a police apologist? 

  Should we embrace truth or positivity?

  When thoughts pass through your mind, are they your thoughts?

  In two previous posts at Madness Heart Press (“Cops, God, and Stephen King,” posted in one chunk here ), I delved into my long history as a Stephen King fan and touched on a few of the misgivings I’ve had about his recent forays into vaguely horror-adjacent detective fiction, especially his stories featuring the irredeemable Holly Gibney. Holly is, in fact, the name of subject of his newest novel (due on September 5 th ). When I wrote those posts about King and cops/PIs, his cuddly relationship with murderous police officers and self-appointed snoops struck me as a (forgive the pun) novel development. Having now revisited some of King’s 1980s-1990s oeuvre, I now believe that this has been the case all along.

  Roy Hazelwood and the Rise of Mind-Reading Police Wizards   Most of what people think they know about so-called “forensic science” is bullshit, and that fact leads to terrible law enforcement outcomes.

  The very stupidest piece of common wisdom regarding religion is a hard pick to make. There are many worthy contenders. For my money, “there are no atheists in foxholes” may be the winner. 

  Stephen King once said that there are three levels of horror: “The Gross-Out,” “Horror,” and “Terror.” Another, perhaps more accessible way to frame these would be to describe them as body horror, traditional horror, and existential horror. However, all of these types of horror rely upon a common theme, one articulated best by the person who I believe crafts the best horror prose in the history of English literature: Thomas Ligotti .

  I’ve finished writing a new novel (stay tuned for details) in which the massacre at Jonestown in November 1978 plays a pivotal role. Both to research it and because the phenomenon interests me, I’ve read more than a few books on cults and cultic ideology over the last year.

Humans tell stories constantly: to ourselves, about ourselves, and about the world. Collectively, the stories we tell and are told make up culture. It is thus worth noting which stories we choose to tell and, vitally, how closely those stories map the real, material world.

  (Titled with  apologies to Max Cannon ) Stand just about anywhere in the Salt Lake Valley and cast your gaze up at the Wasatch Mountains. You will be greeted by a series of sedimentary shelves that mark the feet of the mountains like rings in a bathtub, or the shadow left on the concrete by a puddle when it dries. When the light hits the Wasatch at just the right angle it’s a beautiful sight, a rich layer cake of color and texture. The Wasatch Mountains are only one of the innumerable natural wonders of my home state.

  As 2021 slides gently into oblivion like a moonlit funeral barge on a wine-dark sea, let’s reflect! 2021 was a complicated year for me but even in the midst of the madness, books were – as they always are – a tremendous comfort. Let’s have a fond look back at the cream of the crop; the five best books I read this year!

 As 2021 crashes and caterwauls its course to a conclusion, I am obligated as a blogger (blogligated, if you will) to reflect on the year in review. I spent more time than usual in the hospital over the last 12 months, and as a result I had a chance to do even more reading than normal! Regrettably, not every book I dragged myself through was a winner.

  Perhaps you were lucky enough to grow up without a religious background. Perhaps your guardians were either hardened, borscht-swilling atheist Marxists or the type of enlightened freethinkers one might find at a local Universalist Unitarian meeting – you know, the type who let their children name themselves and pick their own spiritual path. Perhaps you did grow up with a hand-me-down religion, but perhaps it was Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, or any other religion available in this great big world.

  ( Author’s note: once one has spent enough time studying conspiracy theories, it’s inevitable that one feels the urge to conceive of a crazy-ass conspiracy theory of one’s own – just ask Robert Anton Wilson ! This is one such attempt.) The dread, black-clad soldiers of Antifa are known for their anarcho-communist claptrap as much as for beating up helpless old ladies, helpless old men, and (in general) helpless supporters of heroic underdog and TRUE President of the United States Donald J. Trump.

  In a parallel universe, a popular thinker like Thomas Frank correctly identified the problem currently tearing the US and much of the world apart. In this alternate reality, this thinker may have even been able to proffer a solution, given a keen enough intellect or the right insight. 

  Metaphors! You know them, you love them, you need them – but much like motor vehicles, semiautomatic rifles, and pet chinchillas, they are easily abused! 

  Why do people love horror? It seems like a bland enough question; we might as well ask why people like kimchi, or ghost peppers. Humans are endlessly delighted by stimulation, and as even a casual fan of BDSM can tell you, sometimes pleasure is sweeter when it’s been spiked (so to speak) with a little pain. Is that all it is? Are fans of horror indulging our taste for having our neurons flogged? Are horror nerds high on adrenaline the way an extreme sports enthusiast or roller coaster fanatic is? Or is there a deeper attraction – cold metaphorical bones beneath the twitchy flesh of scares-as-thrills?