The first Insidious movie back in 2011 was, to me, at least, one of the scariest films I had seen in quiet some time. What I found interesting enough about that movie was, when I went back to see it a second time, it was an even scarier experience because I saw it in a far better screen with better sound, and I found new things I had missed the first time around. My friends and I left that screening and couldn't sleep that night, it scared us that badly. I know there are silly moments in the film, and sometimes the acting may not the be the greatest in cinema, but director James Wan and his partner in crime, Leigh Whannell, who also wrote and acted in the film, brought together their favorite things about horror films, especially ghosts stories, and gave us one to remember—of course, until James Wan directed the far superior The Conjuring, which is still, by my opinion, one of the finest horror films that has come out in the last decade.
Look, we all have that dream car. We all do, don't deny it. We all have seen or heard about that car we have to have. No matter what we do, we must have that car. I have had the same dream car since I was about 17. It's been a 1967 Chevy Chevelle SS, and it is the only car that I would ever own that would be a manual, because I am strictly an automatic driver—always have been, always will be. But this article isn't about the dream car, it is about our first car, which is just as poetic as that dream car that we all hope to get. I look back, and while my first car was a piece of shit, it was mine. I bought it with my own money, I didn't have help with it, I didn't rely on others to buy it for me. I bought it. I could call it mine. It was my first bit of freedom when I was a kid; it was my whole world. I could go and do whatever I wanted. I had a way to leave the house and travel around, go to the movies, go to work, and not have to wait or, god, hope someone would want to take me. No, I had something that could do all of that at the snap of my fingers.
When I was a small boy, I would see commercials for McDonalds. In fact, I would see them over three or four times a day, to the point where I would be craving the golden arches all day long. My parents were rather smart about this, though, because very rarely would we ever go to fast food, so I would always consider it a treat when we did. This was during the mid to late 90s, when the size of their food was that of a pickup truck and the prices were low. A Big Mac meal cost around $2.99 back then, now you couldn't get one for less than seven dollars, and the sandwich has shrunk considerably. I loved going, and when I would get a happy meal and get that cheap toy from the latest blockbuster that was kicking around in theaters at the time, I thought of it like Christmas. I would only ever get toys two times a year: My birthday and Christmas. The rest of the time, if I wanted something, I would get the same answer. "NO." As simple as that; a large, pulsating NO. My parents were stern, but they were fair. McDonald's was the same way—whenever I would ask to go, same thing. NO.
Listen, I understand there will be many fans out there who will disagree with my opinion of Apple and their products, but let me just say that yes, I have in fact used many products from Apple, including their computers, laptops, iPods, and of course, an iPhone 4s, which happened to be my first foray into smartphones. When I first got it, I was blown away, and found myself being my eight year old inner child again, this was Christmas for me, I had never held or even owned a phone like this before. All my phones had been the ugly grey brick flip phones from Tracfone. But this was when I decided to upgrade, all thanks to my Mrs, who was with Verizon at the time.
"Your weapon is your life." These words were burned into me as a young padawan, as I was training to become the great Jedi I am now. My master passed away sometime ago, and I find myself on a barren wasteland of a planet, a dreary, isolated lifeless place, covered with black rocks, as if nothing but volcanoes erupted and spewed their molten rock all over the land, causing a thick black tar to become the very ground I walk on. As I breathe in fresh air from my respirator, I look around, trying to make out a cave, a place I must go, in order to finish my training.
OK, look, I understand people are entitled to their opinions, but this one baffles me. I left Star Wars: The Last Jedi full of happiness and joy.