Aliens and dead birds

I wanted to burn a firelog, just for the happy crackly of the fire in the fireplace. I find it soothing.

I opened the flue (for the first time) and a dead bird wrapped up in a wad of leaves fell out, nearly on my head. Not soothing.

Halloween is clearly on the way. There was a brief, blissful year (after the terrorist attacks of 2001) when people cut back substantially on celebrating with simulated drippy-flesh and the rubber intestines of horror. I sort of liked it. We are, however, back in full swing. Ick. I mean, I have a strong stomach and all that…but I get moody enough just with the change of seasons and the natural progression into winter. I don’t really need simulated zombies coming out of simulated graves with little simulated cobwebs and strings of orange christmas lights over it all, topped off with a tape loop of eerie howls and screams (pictures of my neighbors house posted on request).

Dear Halloween: I want no part of your death culture. Leave me alone.

So then I watched “Alien 3.” “Oh no you don’t, brain. You get back in there.” Inferior. One more to go, and if I remember right, Alien Resurrection is bad in a way that rescales the badness-o-meter.