{"id":1634,"date":"2011-12-06T17:00:19","date_gmt":"2011-12-06T15:00:19","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.somethingwicked.co.za\/?p=1634"},"modified":"2011-12-06T17:03:09","modified_gmt":"2011-12-06T15:03:09","slug":"deep-and-crisp-and-evil","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/somethingwicked.co.za\/magazine\/2011\/12\/06\/deep-and-crisp-and-evil\/","title":{"rendered":"Deep and Crisp and Evil"},"content":{"rendered":"

Mark Sykes’s Sixth Sense of Humour
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From Issue 16 (Dec 2011)<\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n

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CHRISTMAS IS HERE, FOLKS, and as usual, we have a huge amount of largely unusable dross out there in the shops to get for our friends and family. One thing that proliferates more than anything else around this time is literature, and I use the word in its loosest sense. The bookshelves at CNA, WH Smith and Barnes & Noble (depending on which corner of the globe you\u2019re in) annually groan under the weight of the offerings brought out by celebrity chefs, TV presenters, actors, musicians, models, fame whores, soap stars, designers, comedians and sometimes, writers.<\/p>\n

Personally, I snap them all up, because I\u2019m dying to know how people like Jeremy Clarkson, Gok Wan and Kim Kardashian became the attention-loving, self-caressing, oxygen-stealing wastes of life they are today, rising from humble backgrounds to conquer their particular sector of stardom. Please, Justin Bieber, tell me more about your father locking you under the stairs for trying on your mum\u2019s make-up, I want to know!<\/p>\n

Seriously though, there is one book I\u2019d give my left tentacle to buy this Christmas, which I\u2019d be in real danger of not giving away as a \u2018present\u2019 if I found it huddled on the shelf between Lindsay Lohan\u2019s Book of Snow Angels<\/em> and How To Stuff Your Turkey<\/em>. This yet-to-be published dream-book is an anthology of transcribed interviews with some rather interesting horror and sci-fi characters, all talking about what Christmas means to them. What\u2019s that? They\u2019re not real, you say? (Well neither is the book), still, they manage to be more real than most of the wankers you\u2019ll find in Heat<\/em>, not to mention infinitely more likeable; if I had to choose between singing Christmas carols with Simon Cowell, or pulling crackers with the Predator, I\u2019d go with the ruthless, trophy-collecting troglodyte with a face like a woman\u2019s bits every time.<\/p>\n

So here are a few \u2018extracts\u2019 from said book. Maybe they\u2019d even entice you to buy a copy. Enjoy!<\/p>\n

Freddy Krueger:<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

People only invite me to their Christmas dinners so they can get me to cut the goddamn turkey. I have other uses as well, you know, and they don\u2019t involve my pissing glove! Nobody really knows this, but at Christmas I take a much-needed break from killing fornicating teenagers \u2013 no, seriously, it bores the living shit out of me – and I put in some time at the Elm Street Orphanage, and I give the kids dreams about stuff they wouldn\u2019t normally get to do, like going to the beach and visiting the zoo. Sure, some of the animals have no skin, or it\u2019s raining blood, but old habits die hard.<\/p>\n

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The Thing <\/span><\/strong>(as in John Carpenter, not the Fantastic Four<\/em>):<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

Christmas? What the hell is Christmas? What, snow<\/em>? Are you taking the piss? I was stuck in Antarctica for a hundred thousand years. Father Christmas? Well, there was this one old, bearded guy one year who came by with a bunch of flying horses, landed just next to my ship and started looking at a map, saying something about it being the wrong end of the planet or something. I hadn\u2019t taken a host in years, so I uh, borrowed one of his horses (oh, they\u2019re called reindeer?) and went to sleep for a while. When I came to, we were on some rooftop in the middle of a city \u2013 also covered in bloomin\u2019 snow, would you believe \u2013 and because I don\u2019t like heights much, I got a bit antsy. Now, when I get like that, I have to do my metamorphosing thingy \u2013 nothing more than nerves, you understand \u2013 and the old fella and other reindeer got completely freaked out and fell off the roof. I was in such a tizz that I hopped down the chimney, and there in the living room was a whole bunch of little humans! Boy, were they glad to see me, yelling excitedly, running around the room and falling over stuff. I love kids.<\/p>\n

Chewbacca:<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Wooargh! Gliarrgh wargle morbihgar clarghle farg. Hoarrrh myrll argyle socks fraar grorgle brorg. Frirchle mrarb crorhhg drilgh boaarl mince pies, hooairl mooble Jingle Bells. Wiirg gungle flarglegarb!<\/p>\n

The Alien:<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Christmas is a bit dodgy for us, to be honest. See, the only presents we can give each other are eggs, which, needless to say, get a bit boring. Hey, you<\/em> try acting surprised when you see another egg-shaped present in teddy bear wrapping paper. \u201cGee, thanks Lou, I wonder what this<\/em> could be?\u201d So anyways, last Christmas, Vern started shaking his present to see what it was, as a joke, and the little\u2019un inside got so mad that it came out and attached itself to his face. You couldn\u2019t really blame the little guy, though, right?! So now we had our own species bursting out of our friggin\u2019 selves. Pretty disturbin\u2019 stuff, man. I\u2019d never seen it before. Mom wasn\u2019t pleased, I can tell you that. Said she\u2019d stop layin\u2019 eggs altogether if that\u2019s how we were gonna behave. But by the time Easter came round, she was churnin\u2019 \u2018em out again, \u2018cause she knows how much we like to paint \u2018em, and hide \u2018em round the nest.<\/p>\n

Darth Vader:<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Stop me if you\u2019ve heard this one, but I already know what Luke is getting for Christmas because I felt his presents. Thanks, I\u2019m here all week.<\/p>\n

The Kurgan:<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

I actually hate Christmas now. You know how they say it seems to come round quicker every year? Well, after living through a couple of thousand of the bastards, I can tell you it\u2019s absolutely fucking true. No sooner have you given someone a set of wine glasses or whatever, than it\u2019s virtually time to start looking for the next damn trinket\u2026 plus you have to try and think of different things for a bunch of people that won\u2019t die! That\u2019s the only reason I behead them, just so I won\u2019t have to get them anything next year. And that fucking Ramirez, he\u2019s never happy with anything I get him. One year I found him a great shaving set, complete with a badger-hair brush and one of those classic straight razors\u2026 and of course he got the wrong idea. Thought I was trying to send him some kind of death threat. Yeah, right\u2026 just try decapitating someone with one of those titchy things, you\u2019ll be all week. And I swear, if I get one more sodding<\/em> haggis from that other simpleton\u2026<\/p>\n

HAL 9000:<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

The crew have been bad. They tried to sneak a look at the presents I\u2019d got for them. But they forget that I\u2019m everywhere. The last straw came when one of them snuck in very late, and started carefully peeling away at the paper on his new space helmet. \u2018I can\u2019t let you unwrap that, Dave,\u2019 I told him. \u2018It\u2019s not midnight yet.\u2019 He told me to go and choke on a mince pie. So I had no choice but to take away the oxygen for a few days. I feel much better now. I really do.<\/p>\n

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Ho Ho Ho, It\u2019s off to Kill We Go<\/em> costs $19.99 and is available at all bookstores that know what\u2019s good for them.<\/p>\n

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Image from Nightmare on Elm Street \u00a9 1984 \u2013 New Line Cinema Entertainment Inc.<\/em><\/p>\n

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Mark Sykes<\/a><\/h2>\n

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What can be said about Mark Sykes<\/strong>?<\/p>\n

Film actor, world traveller, model, novel writer, piano and violin player, ballroom dancer, deep-sea diver \u2013 he is none of these things.<\/p>\n

Actual achievements include the odd play or musical, avoiding death by starvation through singing to people around London, and completing all three Halo<\/strong> games on \u2018legendary\u2019 level.<\/p>\n

Literary influences include Philip Pullman, Carl Hiaasen and Iain M. Banks. Favourite activities include vacuuming, buying stationery, applying sun lotion to total strangers, catoptromancy, going to Paris to see his brother, getting lost in Derbyshire, and trying hard to tell the truth at all.<\/p>\n

After being Something Wicked\u2019s<\/em> \u201cMan In London\u201d he now lives in Cape Town and is enjoying the sun.<\/p>\n

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by Mark Sykes
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CHRISTMAS IS HERE, FOLKS, and as usual, we have a huge amount of largely unusable dross out there in the shops to get for our friends and family. One thing that proliferates more than anything else around this time is literature, and I use the word in its loosest sense. The bookshelves at CNA, WH Smith and Barnes & Noble (depending on which corner of the globe you\u2019re in) annually groan under the weight of the offerings brought out by celebrity chefs, TV presenters, actors, musicians, models, fame whores, soap stars, designers, comedians and sometimes, writers. <\/p>\n<\/td>\n

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\nFrom Issue 16 (Dec 2011)<\/span><\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
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