America's Weirdest Home Videos
by Valerie Walker
CNL Litha 90
Has this ever happened to you? The ritual is over and the circle has been opened.Those unfortunates who have to work the next day have left. The party is still going on, and people are having a good time. But then, inexorably, inevitably, the words you've been dreading all evening are uttered:
"Let's watch some videotapes!"
Nuke some popcorn and pull up a cushion! The Couch Potatoes Go Sofa-Surfing!
Is the art of conversation dying?...well, not completely. Aside from those few ultra-fanatics who don't allow the sound of live human speech to mar the perfect beauty of their TV experience, most of my friends are given to plenty of comments and interaction with the screen. Loud hoots of laughter, lots of rewinding to catch the good parts over again...not precisely passive. I guess this is the 1990's answer to the Salon.
I have some pretty strange stuff in my collection. One gem is a ten-minute rant called "Devil-Worshiping Whores", read at a coffeehouse by Chris, a Satanist poet decked out in cowboy hat, leather vest, and lots of silver jewelry. Plus a bunch of science-fiction and horror movies which I have aquired on tape over the years. And then, of course, there's my other resources:
My friend Annie, who goes by the sobriquet of Bridget O'Blivion, Queen of the Couch Tomatoes, doesn't just content herself with collecting strange movies from Late Night TV. She gets whole tapes together with the use of a tape editor, including some very bizarre computer animation. Then she redecorates her whole house and gives parties built around these tapes. The last TV ritual she put on was dedicated to the spirit of Barbarella. Annie is such an enthusiast that she's started her very own fanzine, called Spuds.
Bill specializes in cartoons. Mostly Warner Brothers, but lots of old Tex Avery stuff. He lives in a small apartment which is crammed full of movie memorabilia, some of it quite rare, and party favors. Bill tends to intersperse party games among the TV watching, so we all get to change position once in a while. (At his last party, I won some pretty good stuff playing Pin the Cawwot on the Wabbit.)
John, on the other hand, is dedicated to the dark, the weird, and the scary. It was he who gave me my copy of "Quatermass 2" and "Carnival of Souls," and he has been active in a letter-writing campaign to bring back "The Outer Limits" to local cable TV. He also has compiled what he calls a "collage"; a tape of the really good bits from dozens of grade-Z horror flicks. After about a half-hour of this, the brain of the viewer undergoes a biochemical transformation which is cheaper than cocaine, more spiritually enlightening than mescaline, and less harmful to the liver than alcohol.
We still miss Roland, the King of Film Noir, who moved to the East Bay and quit giving movie parties. Strictly speaking, he should not be included in this bunch of TV watchers, because his collection was on film. He had closets full of film canisters, and his projector was set up permanently. I saw "Vertigo" at Roland's long before it was generally available. I saw "I Walked With a Zombie" in the company of forty screaming fans all dressed as zombies. I saw so many great films--this guy was an inspiration to us all.
There is a distinct Tradition of Couch Potatohood in and around the Craft, which is never mentioned in any of the books, probably because it's not something you can do outdoors around a campfire. But the warm glow of the screen is as friendly as a campfire to those of us who are still there after the crowd has gone home. Bring out that last jug of homemade mead and that bag of chocolate chip cookies! The Late Night contingent sinks slowly into the living-room rug, to be swept up with the cookie crumbs the next day....
In full ritual drag and feeling my oats.