because up here the sun does not set this time of year until about 1:30 am and then only in a sort of curtseying manner, bobbing back up again in an hour or less. So you can actually read a newspaper by the daylight at midnight here in Yellowknife.
Which is why the market for spooky stories is somewhat depressed, locally. We’ll see what happens when the 24 hour darkness sets in, and to judge by some of the Inuit Art, whatever sets in then, it ain’t equanimity.
So, the market for ghoulies and ghosties and things that go bump in the night appears to be at a minimum now, yet somehow I still managed to drum up a squeal of morbid joy when I saw that the slow-grinding wheels of film production had, at last, released this:
for lo, opening night cannot come fast enough for those of us here at Operation Global Media Domination HQ. We are indeed looking forward to watching our old Twitter buddy bring to (unsteady, morbid, doomed) life one of the greatest of American Writers. Ah! If only I had my copy of Closed on Account of Rabies with me, and perhaps a bottle of Amontillado (they don’t sell it at the liquor store, but I bet Chef Pierre could rustle me up some) I could set the mood. For now, these small talismans, the poster and this YouTube of Christopher Walken reading The Raven from that very album will have to do.
Cheerful, isn’t it?