I've always been fascinated by movies and books about serial killers.
I suppose the source of my fascination lies in the uncanny way in
which I have bad taste in movies and books. However, my bad taste
coupled with my keen sense of observation has not only led me to the
firm conclusion that there is a lot of darkness to be found in human
nature but has also led me to watch a lot of stupid movies.
I must confess though that these profound thoughts that I have
concerning human nature have developed not only from watching a lot
of movies but also from direct experience with individuals who have
exhibited this so called "darkness."
I was unfortunate enough to be with a very caring, gentle, and kind
friend of mine that I thought I was very caring, gentle and kind.
That is until we went for a ride together in his car. It was then
that his Darkness was revealed. It's not that he kidnapped, tortured
and mutilated the car, or anything, but when he started to drive, he
was seemingly possessed by what I've since come to call The Evil Car
Spirit!! (Exclamation marks seem appropriate at this juncture.)
It seems that the Evil Car Spirit is more common then is apparent
from it's representation in the reliably realistic spectrum of horror
movies and books. The Evil Car Spirit rushes in from the Netherworld
into the bodies of drivers as soon the car gets moving. Actually, it
doesn't have to be a car. Anything with an internal combustion engine
attached to a set of wheels will do the trick. Once possessed, the
driver will turn into a maniac obsessed with having his way on the
road.
While on the road, The Evil One would scream in the affirmative
whenever fellow motorists yelled and asked him if he owned the road.
"Yes! The roads have been in the family for generations." And he
meant it too.
The Evil One has two sworn enemies: Red-lit traffic lights and
traffic jams. It is a commonly held belief in the netherworld that
traffic lights are put in place to regulate bad drivers (i.e., all
other drivers) and that traffic jams are caused by bad drivers and
traffic lights (quite the complex hate triangle, as you can see). It
goes without saying that however complicated the dynamics get; The
Evil One will always feel that he's the victim.
It is understandable then how The Evil One is tempted to channel his
frustrations to nearby motorists. However, such channelling only
occurs during traffic jams, and not red traffic lights. My personal
theory behind this selectivity is that red-lights cannot be blamed on
anyone in particular. However, in traffic jams, logic and reason may
be stretched to make nearby motorists blameworthy. Consequently, The
Evil One can occasionally be seen to climb out of his car and pounce
on neighbouring unassuming motorists. The subsequent snarling,
shaking and salivating serves as an entertaining side-show for fellow
bored motorists as long as nothing other than egos are hurt by the
end of it.
Occasionally, The Evil One will misjudge the situation and pounce on
the wrong motorist. The 22-Inch Biceps One will usually not care too
much for the formers' attitude the subsequent physical monologue
inevitably cures The Evil One of his possession. This is usually
accomplished by knocking him unconscious. Sometimes, The 22-Inch
Biceps One may be nice enough to replace the remains of The
Beaten-Up-One back into his vehicle, although this it usually done
through a half-open window.
God forbid that you should ever be a passenger as I was when one of
The Evil Ones was driving because then he has a channel for his
frustrations sitting right next to him.
"This is all your fault, that's what this is. You have bad car karma.
If it weren't for you that red would have been green by now. If it
weren't for you I would never hit that little girl ten minutes ago
and scratched my hood!"
All this is muttered in threatening undertones as I sit besides him,
staring straight ahead to avoid eye contact, slowly reaching for the
door handle.
When our destination is reached, the car is braked from 60 to zero in
4 seconds. As the fumes created by the tires billow around us, The
Evil One shudders and groans and is finally exorcised. My friend is
back. In the process, I have turned into The Nervous Wreck One.
"So Atif," he begins cheerfully, "Have you seen any good movies lately?"
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