RIP Wes Craven

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With a name like Craven... well what else was Wes gonna do? Well for starters... be a Humanities professor? Weirdly enough yes, Wes Craven started out as a prof of Humanities... oh the, you know. And that professorial spirit carried through, even as he slashed the throats of young starlets in and out of school uniforms and movie sets, to ribbons. A more thoughtful maker of nightmares we're never gonna meet. He reached deep into the depths of humanity, and he plumbed it for popcorn and screams, for the darkest reflections of who we are. Who We Are, all capitals. There are moments in his filmography that will carry entire generations to their graves, cackling on his back, happy as one thousand maniacs. There are scars inside my brain that he put there, him and his typewriter and his camera and his quiet insistent knowledge of where we're all coming from, the shadowy places, and I cherish every scrape, every claw-shaped curve back and forth and back and forth across my bad dreams - from his thoughts right off the screen and into reality, forever, in his beautiful dark form. Thank you, thank you, thank you for the nightmares, Wes. You make me wanna be a better monster.
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