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We can thank Rosemary’s Baby and Alien for dragging childbirth into modern horror. “I know your secret,” mutters The Void’s bad guy Dr. Powell as he teases the protagonist for his relief at his wife’s recent miscarriage. The instinct to resist impregnation (or even multiplication) is at the heart of Ripley’s first encounter with a xenomorph. Hell, eggs themselves were used to warn audiences in 1979 that it was probably already too late, that the reproductive wheels had been turning since before they were in line for popcorn.
I’m a software engineer. Been doing it for about four years. I work on large, old web applications. Working on large, old web applications, even if you’ve been doing it for decades, is one of the most insanely daunting things a human being will ever do. This is true: the most complex structures ever created by mankind are computer programs. The large hadron collider at CERN is a distant second. To say the learning curve at software jobs is immense captures neither the scope nor the horror of the experience, so I figured I’d come up with a metaphor.
Only what metaphor? What image could convey this Lovecraftian terror, this yawning chasm of insanity into which only the maddest of us are brave enough to gaze, to laugh hysterically until we choke on our own tongues and die?
I fell in love with movies like Session 9 and the 1999 remake of House On Haunted Hill quite accidentally. I didn’t realize that my love of this horror sub-genre was even alive in me. I think up until the point when I saw Session 9 in 2007, had I been pressed, I would have said that my favorite flavor of horror movies was really anything with a priest.