Analysis: Doctor Sleep

Doctor Sleep Synopsis

Back in the groovy 70's, Stephen King wrote a novel about a frustrated writer who takes his family up to a secluded hotel, under the guise of a caretaker's position. This frustrated writer had planned to enjoy the Colorado quiet, but it turns out that the silence only manages to awaken something inside of him. Bloodshed ensues.

I've yet to read Doctor Sleep, but I wanted to share some of my initial thoughts, based on the Chapter One Excerpt that King included in the Audiobook version of his most recent Dark Tower Novel, Wind Through The Keyhole.

The first chapter starts with a newspaper excerpt, reflecting on the previous novel, The Shining.  The largest portion of the first chapter resides in 1981. Danny
is a little older and a little more terrified. He has always been sensetive when it came to the dead. He can see them and now, he knows them. Like the world's worst penny, he finds at least one of the ghouls that had resided in the Overlook Hotel. The old lady, nude and scarred from some too-long bath. This terrible old woman had died there, in the Overlook, but she didn't stay there. She took a trip, all the way from Colorado to Florida.

What immediately strikes me about this noel is that King has returned to a straight-up Horror novel. King hasn't written a true Horror novel since 2008'S Just After Sunset. This isn't an insult  by means. King's work has been branching in many interesting directions. In recent years, King has shown an affinity for more action/adventure stories with the exception of 11/22/63, which had more of a romantic bent. Doctor Sleep, however, seems to be a out-n-out Horror story and if Mr. King and I think alike, we might see Danny's dad in the mixture. How fun would that be?

News Item of the Week! - Dead Babies

According to the University Of Pennsylvania’s Baby Statistics Department, the rate of baby self-immolation has remained unchanged since last year’s study. Professor Chuck Bentley reportedly said that:

“Absolutely no babies have set themselves on fire as far as we know. We haven’t really looked and we, honestly, don’t want to.”

Bentley was asked if this rate was likely to raise or lower. Bentley then said:

“Dude, shut up.”

UPDATE:

Timothy Carter, who is expected to rescue his elder brother before the end of the month, has requested more crack cocaine and has offered this reporter oral sex in exchange for said crack cocaine. This reporter, against the direct orders of the editorial staff, has elected to honor Carter’s request.

THE WORST CATS ALIVE

DIRTY STEVE

This dirty pussy is wanted for identity theft. He has stolen nearly $7,200,000 from various people around the world.  

News Items Of the Week! - The Bear Experience

Jeffery Fink of the Fink & Barn Wildlife Experience in Yuma, Florida has announced an exciting, new attraction:  Humiliate a Bear Experience.

Like most modern, small business, the Fink & Barn Wildlife Experience has suffered under economic pressures. Fink, in an effort to drum up business, decided to try this new idea.

Here’s how it works: Fink or, a reportedly reluctant Howard Barn will shoot one of their seven bears with a tranquilizer dart and then, for a low, low price of $24.95, you can go into the cage and punch a bear directly in the face. For another $5, men are permitted to rub their bare scrotum on the bear’s face and women will be able to blow a hot fart directly in the bear’s face.

Though the experience is slated to open in the Spring, there’s been notable interest in Japanese markets and surprisingly, from the animal rights organization, PETA.

UPDATE:

Timothy Carter, who is suspected to be seeking to rescue his elder brother, has requested that this reporter supply him with more Crack Cocaine. Against the wishes of the editorial Staff, this reporter has elected to honor this request in pursuit of this unfolding story.  

THE WORST CATS ALIVE

FELIX

This furry feline is wanted for the rape of several horses. The horses are being treated for psychological horror. 

Bonus!!! News Item of The Week! - All Mass Gunmen Have Tiny Baby-Dicks

Dr. Tobias Webber, Professor of Large-Scale Murder at UCLA, has published an article in the Journal of Criminal Study equating Mass Murderer's death tolls with Mass Murderer's penis sizes. According to Webber, the number of unarmed civilians murdered is directly proportioned to the shooter's penis length, a full 1/4 inch being subtracted with every murder commited. Webber came to this conclusion after observing Sandy Hook Shooter, Adam Lanza's autopsy.

"What's that poking out from his anus?" Webber had asked the attending physican.

"His penis. Adam Lanza has a -7 inch penis." The Physican reportedly replied.

Webber examined other mass murderers and discovered this to be universally true. While Boston Bomber, Dzhokhar Tsarnaev (I punched my keyboard to get that spell.) was recovering in Boston General Hospital, Webber had the opportunity to attend a physical examination/public humilation.

"I was handed a shopping bag filled with rotten vegetables and oversized dildos and was instructed to lob the contents at Tsarnaev. I had been sat next to several teenage girls who had been instructed to giggle loudly and make catty remarks about his penis. Their job had been made difficult due to the fact that Tsarnaev didn't have a dick at all. It took them some time to realize the tail coiled on the floor wasn't, in fact, a long, roppy poo. Instead, it was his -30 inch cock." Webber said.

When asked if he pegged that bastard with a dildo, Webber reportedly said, "Right up side his fucking head, man."

Webber wishes to expound the undeniable fact that if you kill unarmed, innocent people, your dick will shrink up into your body and then, go into negative inches.

News Item Of The Week! - Brother Has Yet To Save His Older Brother

Timothy Carter, of Chicago, Illinois has yet to rescue his elder brother from Death Row. Judge William Hicks, an enthusiastic fan of the cancelled FOX crime-drama Prison Break, suspected that Timothy had been inspired to save his brother, Craig Carter who is slated to be put to death at the end of September. Timothy was arrested on July 11^th  on Drug Possession and Trafficking. Timothy had numerous tattoos on his body, much like the main character of Prison Break, but Timothy’s tattoos mostly depicted swastikas and nude women. As of yet, it is unclear how this tattoos will lead to a daring, moonlit escape.

A reporter was sent to the prison, hoping to shine some light on any escape plans that Timothy has. Timothy declined to share his agenda, but requested that the reporter smuggle in some of the street drug, Crack Cocaine. At this time, this reporter doesn’t know how Crack Cocaine will aid in his escape, but this reporter has decided to explore this crack cocaine method of prison escape.      

THE WORST CATS ALIVE

SNOWBALL 

This crimson kitty killed 10 Mexican tourists with a hatchet late last April. When asked why, this heartless fiend just said "Meow."

HUGO / ALISION / MILLER / MAYRA EP. 01

EPISODE ONE:  Immigraniada

The air had turned into shards of glass, peeling away at Hugo’s lungs. He lay in a dead grass field with scraps of paper swirling around his head. It hurt to breath, but Hugo’s chest continued to convulse. Air was punching from his lungs along with slobber and flecks of rust-colored blood. Ice-cold, blue light spilled down onto Hugo’s body. He reached up, toward the cold, blue light and then, the light spilled away into the void. Darkness smashed all around him and night flooded in soon after. He could hear crickets hidden in the grass and further off, he could hear the freeway. He could hear the whine of cars and the blur of car horns.

Hugo rolled onto his shoulder and then, onto his hands and knees. Another round of coughing snagged his lungs. He pressed his forehead to the wispy, papery grass and felt his abdomen constrict over and over again. He put his hand to his waist. His fingers brushed across something leathery. He felt something that wasn’t his own skin. Whatever it was, it was fused into his skin.

“What the hell happened?” Hugo asked into the cold night. He looked up into the night sky.

Hugo climbed up onto his feet. He didn’t have his shoes and he could feel the small rocks underneath his heels. He stumbled off toward the freeway, breathing little ice shard out before him. 

Lowell Is Liike A Cat

Lowell is like a cat. Most people enjoy cats, much like most Citizens of Lowell enjoy Lowell, Ma.  But, also like a cat, you wouldn’t be all that surprised if you found out that Lowell was attempting to kill you.  Lowell, Ma is a horrible place. Most people seem to be campaigning for the title of Worst Person Alive. I want to tell you a story of a Late-night Shift and one and a half feet of snow.

Not a short-time ago, I worked at a 24-hour corner store. Through a series of monkey-shines, I found myself working the overnight relief shift, usually spanning from 10:00pm -4:00am.

On the day this story takes place, two feet and a half of snow fell, caking our family home in white, fluffy snow. This would’ve been easier to shovel away, but the temperature rose, turning the falling snow into rain, soaking those two feet of fluffy snow. There was a ‘Stay-At-Home’ Advisory for our area, which should have meant that the roads should’ve been clear. Unfortunately, Lowell don’t listen to not ‘Stay-At-Home’ Advisory.

I had made a perfunctory attempt at shovel at path to the street and I thought that should’ve been good enough. My mother, my dearest mother decided that she wasn’t going to listen to this advisory. She had old people to take care of (and possibly, beat with a wooden spoon.) My sister went out with a shovel in her hand and began to dig my mother out. This is a common occurrence in Massachusetts: Digging out someone who should just stay home. My sister had hardly made a dint in the snow and came back in, seeking reinforcements. My two brothers were away, somewhere. They were doing something. Possibly, they had known that this was going to happen.

We have three cars and we attempted to dig out the easiest of the three cars. My sister’s car sat on the street and therefore, there would be less work for the both of us. I’d be able to go back to sleep and be rested for my 10 to 4 shift at the corner store.  We finally dug out the car. We were cold, wet and exhausted and I began to trudge back to the house, while my sister started on my mother’s vehicle. I felt that we had a car available, which we shouldn’t have done, seeing as there was a ‘Stay-At-Home’ Advisory.

I slumped down to my bed and enjoyed a glorious half-hour’s sleep before I was called back down, hearing demands that I should aid my sister. I had aided my sister. We had dug out a car for my mom. Why would I dig out another?

Evidentially, there was the hypothetical fear that we might need a car once our mother was gone. I argued that if something was to happen in our home, we could call an ambulance. We could call the police. We did not need another goddamn car.

I lost that argument, though I maintain that my argument was remarkably sounds. I found myself shoveling out a second car. I was now, colder, wetter, and more exhausted.  My mom had her car and my sister had hers. Again, I headed back inside and my sister continued on to the third car. Why? The fuck if I know. I didn’t sleep at all this second time before I was called down to aid my sister, again.  This time, it was my father, seemingly jealous that everyone else had their cars dug out. I contested that the snow was heavy, that we were exhausted and that he didn’t have to be anywhere for a full 38 hours. This was on a Saturday and he didn’t have to work until Monday.  Again, my argument was sound, remarkably so but I found myself outside, shoveling out a third car. This is what you get if you live in Lowell. You get soaked in cold, filthy water. You get to feel like you’ve been stabbed in the back, emotionally and physically. You get to work in futility for on good goddamn reason.