The S Words.....

Recently a friend of mine, who is a disabled veteran, was asking a celebrity for an autographed picture. This celebrity not only refused to give this person, who fought to protect our freedom, the autograph they said that they and others were sick of this veteran being a stalker and asking for freebies.

Now, let me be clear on this, though I thought this celebrity was being an asshat for  being so mercenary and denying this veteran his signature, I’m more pissed about this person daring to insult and libel this veteran by calling him a stalker.

The thing is I see this sort of thing a lot in the horror community, especially among low grade so-called actresses, poser scream queens, and zgrade horror hostesses. It seems like these inferior entertainers think that it gives them more creds if they can post on their Facebooks, My Spaces, and Google+s that they have lots of “stalkers”, because of course having stalkers means that you are really somebody among the horror social elite.

Now don’t get me wrong, there are actresses and celebrities or even minor celebrities who have had real honest to goodness stalkers. I, myself, had a woman who got me fired from my job, tried to burn the lawn on my house, tried to run down me and my niece, and left my cat skinned alive and dying on my front porch. This bullshit lasted for seven years and I ended up suing her ass over it. Also, look at Heather Langencamp (A Nightmare on Elm Street, New Nightmare) and her year of terror facing a stalker who was threatening her family. Or how about Adrienne King (Friday the 13^th) who spent years in constant fear of a stalker, so much so she left the United States to get away. I love to see what Heather and Adrienne would think about these fucks calling every Tom, Dick, and Harry a stalker just because these people do something these bitches don’t like. One reason I thoroughly RESENT Elissa Dowling and Michelle Shields is because they both stabbed ME in the back then had the incredible nerve to call me a stalker, which is so totally unfair and out there in regard to anything I actually did to them. Oh, and given the FACT that I had to deal with the real thing it makes me want to blow every time I think about it.

In regard to Elissa, who I had been friends with for three years, she decided that she was going to sell me out to Bloody-Disgusting so that they would promote her crappy career. The thing is she actually got on messageboards and chats, under her nickname Razorected, and talked smack about me as a writer and against Cory Stevens film, which I was promoting at the time.  I decided she needed to get a taste of her own medicine, except I was going to stick to the truth. I went around the internet and copied every review I could find of her films and reposted them all together in multiple threads around the internet under the title “Avoid like the Plague”.  Ok, that wasn’t exactly nice. All her reviews were negative and showed her as a horrid actress who did twelve films with the worst director in horror, Ulli Lommel. Still, I didn’t write the reviews and they were honest third party reviews of her work…therefore the truth. Still, people including Elissa herself called me a stalker. Sorry, posting the truth isn’t being a stalker it’s being truthful. Now, onto Miss Michelle Shields. Michelle called me a stalker because she posted a reply to a friends post using her “secret” profile (Michelle M Shields) she created for her so-called “real friends” and I accidentally (I repeat ACCIDENTALLY, not that I was looking for it) found it, got curious and checked it out. On this profile Michelle says that her other profile (Michelle Shields)  is for people she “uses” for promotion. Well, people, I was of course not happy to learn this. For one thing I had known Michelle for ten years and had considered her a friend. Also when I was at the first Days of the Dead in Indianapolis Michelle was hanging out with me and The Wolf Pack a lot during the conventions and was even kissing on me on three separate occasions (This information is supported by the entire Wolf Pack in The Eric Morse Project radio show, The Truth). So, basically she played with my feelings in order to get me to support her. And, yes I supported her until I found the profile and also found out from that very profile that Michelle had a long term boyfriend (of course one I didn’t know about when she was shining my teeth with her tongue) because she had conveniently kept the information to herself and always posted her status as single on her other profiles. Anyway, I posted a non-gender, non-focused on Michelle note on Facebook about what people thought of actors and actresses who had long term relationships and played around with other entertainers or even fans at conventions. I had confided about the situation with Michelle to my friend, Henry, and he ended up calling Michelle out on it on a comment to the note. Michelle blamed me and blocked me. I apologized to her and she unblocked me a few days later. What I hadn’t known at the time was Michelle went off and royally started talking smack about me while I was blocked. She called me a stalker, a fat pervert, and even tried to make out that I had mental issues. She even said at the time that if I even tried to apologize for the situation “she would make me pay.” And she did. Even though I tried to be nice and bury the hatchet, so to speak, after she unblocked me she acted like a total bitch to me. Then some asshat started giving me shit and saying I and my crew never hung out with Michelle at Days of the Dead, though it was seen by everyone at the convention, and at one point Michelle said aloud in front of the Fangoria table that we, The Wolf Pack, were the coolest guys at the convention. Anyway, I got sick of the bullshit and posted a picture of Michelle hanging out at our table. Michelle posted on the picture that she wasn’t hanging out that she came over because Derek needed to ask her a question. In the picture she was clearly standing in front of me and looking towards me. So I posted that that was bullshit and that there were other pictures and videos showing her at our table a lot at that convention. She blew her stack called me and my crew delusional liars and blocked me again. And, according to a friend she once again insulted me on her profile, called me a delusional pervert, and a stalker again. So, guys out there who have sucked face with Michelle at a convention, if you brag and talk about your experience you’ll get called a delusional pervert and a stalker as a thank you for your snoogling. For you see, her boyfriend is stupid enough to believe everything she says so he remains totally clueless to her convention antics to this day…

The crux of the problem is that now a days women use the term stalker in the same way as the term sexual harassment. Again, I’m not saying that sexual harassment doesn’t exist. The truth is it does happen unfortunately and I feel bad for the women who go through this, but there are others, like people like Michelle Shields in regard to the word stalker, that use the term sexual harassment as a weapon to use against men.

I recall two blaring examples of this…One happened on the TV talk show Montel. Montel Williams was talking about sexual harassment and had a woman on the show who had actually been sued by six men she had worked with for falsely making false sexual harassment charges against them. Montel ended up asking her a couple very revealing questions. He asked her if, say, a guy she found attractive and had known at the office came up to her and casually asked her out to dinner would that be sexual harassment? She laughed and said of course that wasn’t sexual harassment. Then Montel asked her the same question but said it was a guy she didn’t find really attractive. She said that was definitely sexual harassment. Montel asked why, because after all the guy wasn’t being rude or aggressive and was just asking her casually. She said the guy needed to learn a lesson, not to bother her if he doesn’t meet her standards. I found that amusing. Another, similar situation happened to a teenaged boy who asked a popular girl at his school if she’d go with him to the prom. She went off on him and made an accusation of sexual harassment to the school. This got into the local paper and a church group in the town posted a picture of the kid and put him on their sexual predator website. That was in 1998 and the church refused to pull him off the website. Since then the guy’s family has been in a constant fighting this bullshit in court and the poor guy needs to register with the police if he moves, has been rejected for jobs, and deal with the rest of the stigma of being called a sexual harasser simply for asking a girl to the prom….nice.

So, here is the moral of this blog….unless you are being threatened and constantly being bothered or followed, or some person you work with is really being pushy and rude about wanting to get together with you or is expecting sexual favors for promotion the person in question is not a stalker or sexual harasser. So, if this is the case, you need to shut the fuck up and stop wrongly accusing these poor people as such. You are not cool or fabulous for doing this shit. You are just plain wrong. So get a fucking clue people…

The Wolf Pack Podcast needs your help....

Gore and Scares Everybody...This is William Pattison, aka Eric Morse, and The Wolf Pack and I are coming to you, the fans. We want to bring you the best grindhouse internet radio show on the net. This season we are changing the name of our show to The Wolf Pack Podcast, but we want to do better than that. We want to give you two hour shows done to the best of our abilities. In order to do that we are going to need funding for this seasons show. Without funding we are only going to be able to bring you half hour shows with only three audio files. In order to do this we have decided that you, the fans should adopt the show. Check to the right for contribution levels and help us bring you the best Wolf Pack Podcast possible...

http://www.indiegogo.com/thewolfpackpodcast


And here is some music to read by.....

 

Respect and Consideration in The Horror Community

One of the Wolf Pack, Lucas Marlone, asked me if I ever thought of walking away from the horror community. I admitted to him that I have considered it on a number of occasions, but I end up stopping myself by thinking that I’m not going to let the shallow self involved fucks that made me consider that option win.

I mean look at the horror community as it is at present. You got convention organizers who think so much of themselves they’ve lost the concept of who they are doing these conventions for. It’s no longer for the horror fans to meet the various people of horror and learn more about the productions. No, now it is an ego trip so that they can invite only their friends and screw the public out of as much money as they can. That became obvious when I talked to John Dugan (Grandpa from Texas Chainsaw Massacre). John, who had the guts to speak out, said that convention organizers had banned him from a number of conventions simply because he asked the fans to request him. Sounds familiar. I’m in the same boat myself and I think it’s total bullshit.

Oh, and how about the scene itself? It’s not about how much blood and sweat you’ve given to horror. It’s what fucking “clubs” you belong to or who you’re brown nosing to get guest appearances on podcast or even articles on websites or horror magazines. Look at me I’m a six time published author, you would think I’d get invited on podcasts once in a while or once in a blue moon my books would be mentioned in regard to the Friday the 13^th franchise, but no. I’ve seen Fangoria write article after article on the Friday the 13^th comic books, Crystal Lake Memories, and even the fucking documentaries like My Name is Jason. But, The Camp Crystal Lake novels get treated like garbage.

The reason for this is because the horror community has been turned into a cheap brothel full of soulless whores. There is no consideration about respect or consideration anymore. If there was Reyna Young and Michelle Shields wouldn’t have come out of the crap they pulled on me smelling like roses. It wouldn’t be a situation where people I’ve know for seven years and showed nothing but respect and support turn their backs on me in favor of  the shallow assholes and their buddies who have hurt me. And, what about the independent filmmakers who came onto the scene and had such passion and enthusiasm and pluck. I made friends with them and supported them. Now they are all into themselves, post fifty pictures a day, and could care less about helping a friend with a half hour interview or even take two minutes on the phone to wish him well.  It is damned sad and pathetic when people you once highly respected show you they are nothing but scrounging brown nosers looking for the better deal and turning away from those who have honestly cared and supported them. I’ve seem this too much of this the last couple of years.

It’s no wonder in the past year alone I’ve seen a number of friends who have considered walking away from the horror community out of complete and utter disgust of what it has become. One and his family saw how I and my co-host Derek were being abused and lost hope and nearly walked. Another friend of mine, the senior editor of a horror site also walked away because she was tired of people acting like high school idiots. So, there you have it, horror community, you need to clean up your fucking act. Get out of the fucking dumps people and start building a community where respect and consideration mean something….


And when I feel like quitting I listen to this lady and she gives me strength and inspiration...

 

No Value

Earlier today I was talking with my co-worker, PJ. We were chatting about how now a days I download most of my movies, due to my lack of funds, and how I miss all the extras they have on DVDs. PJ in answer to me said “I don’t know what your problem is to me all that is just crap and has no value.” I have to say my jaw dropped. I told him how I loved to watch “The Making of” videos and hearing the filmmakers’ thoughts on their film. Again, I got the same response that all of that material has no value.

Well, honestly, I’ve heard a lot of that in the horror community, especially from convention organizers. Seriously, you ask them about signing horror writers or horror screen writers you get the same attitude, it’s like you’re wasting their time, because in their eyes writers period are of way lesser value than filmmakers, actors, painted up scream queens, horror hosts, and documentary filmmakers.

I want to know when the fuck did writers lose their value and who the fuck made that decision? I mean give me a fucking break. I remember years ago when I would go to conventions, the old Fangoria Weekend and Creation conventions, that you had authors as regular guests. Hell, there used to be panels for horror and science fiction writers. Hell, screenwriters were treated like stars at the old conventions. I remember attending panels lead by Harlan Ellison, Ray Bradbury, and even by Dean Koonz. It was what inspired me to start writing.

 Think about this, assholes…What would Friday the 13^th be without that wonderfully crafted script written by Victor Miller? Or how about Scream without the genius of screenwriter Kevin Williamson. Or Texas Chainsaw Massacre without writer Kim Henkel. Oh, and what about Halloween without John Carpenter and Debra Hill…Oh, but I forgot John Carpenter is also a filmmaker so he does have value. And, what about authors? Why is Bentley Little, who has been bleeding and writing his art for years, so inferior to some jackass who edits together film clips and interviews actors for a direct to video documentary on a film franchise? What makes them such stars over a person who sits in a room for months at a time ripping their soul apart and creating entire worlds and people in his mind and slaving to bring their vision to the world. Excuse me, but how fucking dare you arrogant pricks say such a thing. If it wasn’t for the dedication of writers the filmmakers, who you fucks so admire so much, would be sitting around shooting films of trains coming into stations. All writers are important to horror. They are way more important than the fucktards that put out My Name is Jason or Never Sleep Again. If it wasn’t for the dedication and sweat of screenwriters these fucks wouldn’t have any material to do their fucking documentaries about. Yet, unless a writer isn’t a Stephen King or Clive Barker they are considered trash by convention organizers and thus only worthy of a vendors table in the back of the vendor’s room. Fuck you, you arrogant bastards. It shows how totally fucked up the situation is that a number of writers ended up emptying their own pockets to put on their own gathering in Kentucky to connect with fans, because they were sick of being treated like garbage by convention organizers. Look at the world you ignorant fucks. Computer tablets and E books are on the rise. People are reading again. The written word is not dying, it is like a phoenix and being reborn, so in the world writers have value. The horror community, and especially convention organizers, need to keep up with the times…Give horror writers and screen writers the respect they deserve, because they have value....

Professionalism

Recently an associate of mine suggested I act more professional in regard to horror, because he said my actions and my attitude was going to ruin my career. Here is my answer to that. To fucking hell with that! Here is one thing you need to realize, I’m never professional. To me professional means kissing people’s asses and acting like a Stepford person. Professional means letting people get away with shit, because you feel if you object you will be going against the popular opinion and the status quo. Professional means letting people use you and take advantage of you because you feel you need their approval. Get this straight,  I’m who I am. I’m genuine. I don’t put on a false image just to win the approval of others. I don’t need their approval. They either accept me for who I am or they can fuck off…Simple as that.

The fact is I’m an artist and a writer, which both tend to be less than professional by the social way of thinking. Look at two very artistic people I admire who truly are unprofessional. One is Mr. Howard Stern. Howard truly doesn’t give a flying fuck about what is professional and what is not…Howard is Howard and he simply doesn’t care. Then there is my mentor, Mr. Harlan Ellison. Harlan will tell his fans they are total idiots if he feels they are being that way. He actually told a representative from Warner Brothers studio that he would come down and burn down their offices if they didn’t send him a free DVD copy of Babylon 5 because it contained an interview he had done. He doesn’t play politics or be nice and kiss the ass of anyone. Yet both men are extremely successful and respected for being who they are.

People in the horror community use the word “professional” as a crutch or excuse to criticize someone for not doing things their way or not bowing down to them. The truth is that professionalism in the horror is a myth. All supposed business is done on a social level rather than a truly business only level. That is why so many unfair and sneaky deals are done. Filmmakers cast their friends over better prospects. Convention organizers invite only their buddies and ignore local talent. Convention organizers blackball people simply because they ask the fans to request them. Vendors get free tables and get to go to VIP parties and other events because they are buddies of organizers. These are the people who are called “professionals”, what they should be called is brown nosers and ass kissers or worse cheaters and liars. William Pattison, aka Eric Morse, is not a brown noser or ass kisser and is definitely not a cheater or a liar (though some have dared to try to say otherwise) thus I am unprofessional. I say good.

And to a certain two convention organizers, communication is the key to understanding and knowing how to communicate is even more important. If a person is uncommunicative or depends on public opinion the best way  (by the definition of the horror community’s style of professionalism) to get a response is to bring the issue up in a public forum and force their hand. Thus when it comes down to it I have been very professional in how I've handled the two of you (gag). You don’t like how I play your games then play mine…be honest, be fair, and show me the respect a six time author deserves, which is the same as any actor or documentary filmmaker…period. Simple as that. You don’t and you deserve what you get. This is me communicating and I’m hoping you are understanding. That is more important than making the excuse that I’m unprofessional…


Here is an example of what I mean....

A note to my fans and friends

Well, I just went and erased another 50 emails from Eric Morse fans. In 90% of them I got a variation on “ I’m so sorry you were banned from that con, Miss Misery is such an asshole for doing that. When are you going to be at a convention near me?” Here is your fucking answer NEVER!  Honestly, people, I feel like going completely off. These people in these emails obviously know about the convention drama. They fucking know I been told in no uncertain terms that I am not welcome in “The Scene”. The Ftards that think they make those decisions have said that and YOU, all of you, have pretty much backed that shit up. So here is my question, why the fuck am I getting these damned emails…Why do they come in days after day. I ask the fans for support, and yet I get shit in return. Then, as if to rub salt in my wounds, they keep bugging me about getting into conventions. You want me to be at conventions then get off your lazy asses and bug the shallow assholes that banned me and pushed me away until one of them breaks down and signs me. Stop emailing me and asking me. Do you realize how much it hurts me. It is like you are slapping me in the face.

Oh, and to my friends, stop calling me and emailing and telling me what a wonderful time you had at such and such convention. That is like rubbing salt in my wounds too. If I’m not worthy or welcome to come and hang out with other horror fans then I don’t want to hear about others doing it. I’m not that much of a saint and I’m tired of people thinking I’m supposed to be. I have to tolerate seeing posts on Facebook, but stop rubbing it in my face. I’m done with it. If I had had some support from the horror community those asses would have never pulled that shit of banning me….So, I’m sorry to be honest, but I blame you. So, don’t talk to me about conventions…I don’t want to hear.

This does not mean that I’m not going to do my new show with Lucas Marlone and Mary Madcox. Oh, no. You’ll hear what conventions are coming up from me. But if I sound excited and enthusiastic….The Academy Award goes to William Pattison, aka Eric Morse. Just remember that….

And here is a little music to fit the mood....

My Experience at Zombie-O-Rama IV

Four years ago I went with my boarder, actor Christopher Scott, to the first ever Bay Area, actually technically San Jose is Silicon Valley, zombie crawl. It was an wonderful event and over 1,000 people attended. Yesterday, I attended the fourth years event and was blown away. I had gone to the second year and it was bigger and better. Unfortunately, I had missed year three because I didn’t have transport, which royally sucked. This year I walked into a monster of an event. My sister and I were a bit late so we showed up when the entertainment had started. When we arrived I swear we walked into a crowd of over 4,000 people. A band was playing. A number of people  dressed up as those beserkers from Resident Evil. There were people in incredibly detailed makeup from The Walking Dead as well. Also there were people in simplistic makeup as well, most of these got theirs done at the event for a donation of $5, good deal. For my part I did my own makeup and my sister’s. Unfortunately, I don’t have any pictures this time, because I forgot to charge my camera…

The food at the event was excellent. I had a pork burrito and some Hawaiian sliders. For desert I got a hand made strawberry cheesecake ice cream sandwich with fresh chocolate chip cookies.

After my sister and I watched a zombie fashion show and watch the costume contest. An amazing eyeless zombie won the woman’s category and a clown zombie won for the guys. Then we finished the evening with a showing of Shawn of the Dead in a big outdoor screen….it was glorious.

Now, if you were on Facebook you saw that it was back and forth in regard it if I was going to be able to make this event. It had taken an over blown importance for me to make it because of all the bullshit with me and horror events lately. I have to say it was nice to be able to hang out with a few thousand fellow horror fans. Actually, a couple people recognized me there and chatted me up. They were disappointed that they couldn’t get an autograph, but luckily I had a pen in my pocket and wrote down their addresses on a rather small piece of paper I had. I’ll send them autographed pictures once I have the funds to do so. So, all in all a wonderful time..Bravo Zombie-O Rama!

Burned out and Frustrated..

Some of the more jackassy among you will be overwhelmed with joy over this tidbit of news. As I was leaving for work this morning my sister called me on my cell phone and informed me that we can’t go to Zombie-O-Rama IV on Friday, which was the one little bright flicker of light left for me in regard to going to an actual horror event. The reason is because my sister broke her glasses and without them she can’t see to drive at night. Of course, none of the other people in our household will jump up and help us. That is a certainty. So once again I’m screwed over. In past years it wouldn’t matter that much to me, but this year it’s to the point I was ready to cry and put my fist through a wall. I’m so frustrated. I’m so fucking burned out with all this fucking bullshit I've been put through this year. If it isn’t fucking convention organizers fucking me over and excluding me from everything…it’s just the fucking attitude I get from you people in the horror community. It’s like, Oh, what the fuck are you so angry about…who the fuck are you. Then when I answer them and defend myself I get called an ego case and a trouble maker. The hypocritical thing is the people who make these accusations are royal fucking ego cases themselves. Then I try to do something positive. I try to open up opportunities and what do I get…nothing…no support…silence. What’s royally fucked up about that is I bust my ass to support and help other people in this community. If someone I know (Hell, in some cases people I hardly know) is doing something, and could use some help promoting, I’m right there no questions asked and no hesitation. Do you see that with many other people around here? Do you see that from the people who have fucked me over this year??? The answer is hell no! Yet, that bitch that screwed me over this year gets nothing but support and I get fucking blackballed from the convention scene and treated like dirt. What the fuck is that? A person asked me on Facebook why I don’t post pictures of me smiling….Give me something to smile about. The thing is, people, I’ve lost my faith in you. I wanted to believe that someone might show an ounce of humanity…but I’m still waiting. And, since you are all too dense to understand what I’m saying, this is a scream of pain. This is a cry for help…And, guess what? I know the answer already…Nothing…Silence…or Criticism. Have a good laugh…

900

We have reached and surpassed the 900 mark. This royally means I'm either feeling the love or the hate in spades. I never thought I'd get this far in so short a time. Congratulations readers. I hope those of you with open minds can understand my idea of inclusion rather than exclusion. The horror community needs a little horror unity rather than the bullshit, immature high school style class system the socials like to impose on the rest of us. As I've said socials are not elite and they have no right playing bosses. The true elite in horror in my opinion are the people who have watched so many horror films that they have an appreciation of every decade of horror, from its silent beginnings to the modern remakes and found footage films of today....
So, onto 1,000 and beyond...

Adventures in Bus Riding…

My friend Lucas Malone tells me that my life is like an epic novel. Yeah, a totally fucked up novel written by Terry Gilliam. A good example of why I make this statement is what happened on the bus ride home this afternoon. I had to take a side trip to a costume shop near my work named House of Humor (I had to get makeup for the zombie makeup jobs I’m doing next Friday so we can go to Zombie-O-Rama in San Jose)  so I didn’t catch my usual bus at the usual location. Instead I caught the notorious 390 bus. This bus is notorious to me because every time I catch this damned bus freakiness ensues. This time it was in spades. I got on the bus, which was pretty much full and I had to try to fit myself, my backpack, and my computer bag, aka my mobile office, into a very narrow seat next to Jabba the Hutt. I’m serious, people, this guy had to weight at least 500 pounds. He took up two entire seats on the sideway row of seats in the back that I tactfully call Skid Row. But that isn’t the freakiness I’m talking about. In the sideway handicap row in the front of the bus sat an old gentleman who literally looked like Caesar from Rise of the Planet of the Apes. I’m not shitting you. This guy looked like a chimpanzee in a tan suit with a walking stick with a silver-looking handle. Anyway, ten minutes into the trip Monkeyman exploded into a rage and back handed the four foot tall Japanese lady sitting on the side row in front of him. A big, buff, Italian guy with a heavy black mustache and bald head got up to stop him. But Monkeyman (Yes, I am going to continue to call him that…If that’s not too much of a problem, Chief…) swung his walking stick at the guy and glared him down. He then told this large man, who reminded me of Bane from The Dark Knight Risen, that he was a mental patient with dementia. He then introduced the Japanese lady he had slapped as his nurse. He warned Italian Bane guy that he was crazy and if he didn’t back the fuck off that he was going to beat his skull in with the walking stick because he wasn’t afraid of him and didn’t give a fuck if he killed somebody. The Japanese lady started yelling at him. Also, the bus driver yelled at him to back down and take his seat, which also caused the bus driver to nearly hit another vehicle because he was distracted by the conflict. Monkeyman continued to threaten Italian Bane. Amusingly enough Italian whimped out a bit and hit Monkeyman with the “I’ll call the cops” strategy. Monkeyman told him to try, because he’d knock the cell phone out his hand with his walking stick and beat the fuck out of him before he could get the call through. Then Monkeyman informed Italian Bane that he was a crazy fucking black man that hated all I quote, “… fuckin’ white honky motherfuckers, chinks, spiks, and anyone other motherfuck on this bus. So don’t fuck with me. I’ll kill you all!” Well, the bus driver, who was still driving even though he had passed two stops and could have stopped and dealt with this personally, ordered the Japanese lady to handle her charge (but not in those words). After a few more moments the tiny Japanese lady managed to get Monkeyman back into his seat. Italian Bane went back to his seat too, but Monkeyman wasn’t finished. He kept looking back at Italian Bane and calling him names and threatening him more. This went on until finally Italian Bane got tired of Monkeyman’s special attention and came back to Skid Row with me and my sweaty companion, Jabba. This didn’t stop Monkeyman, because he was on a roll. He found three other people to harass before I thankfully got to make my retreat when my stop came.

Now, here is my question in this situation…Where the fuck was the bus driver in all this. Why the fuck didn’t he stop the bus at the next stop and deal with this very volatile situation like the captain of any ship would. I would think that any bus driver worth his metal would have stopped the bus at the next stop, called his supervisor, and then the cops. Then he would have gotten in the middle of this standoff and disengaged the situation, reminding both parties that if they dared touch him or made any aggressive move against him it would five years in the pokie as some tattooed guy’s bitch (it says that on a poster next to the driver’s area…though not the part about being someone’s bitch..). The thing that gets me is this outcome didn’t happen. The bus driver just kept driving no matter what.

After I got off the bus I called SanTrans (our bus agency) and reported the situation to their customer service person. When I asked why the bus driver didn’t stop and take action she informed me that SanTrans had changed some of their policies in regard to bus schedules and she guessed the bus driver didn’t want to be late and get penalized. Suddenly, I found myself channeling my one mentor Mr. Harlan Ellison. I said to her I quote “ Excuse me. Are you saying that your bus driver was more worried about keeping to his bus schedule than a potentially life threatening situation happening on his bus?” She informed me that if a bus is late, according to their policy, by more than ten minutes driver is penalized thirty minutes pay. I said, “Are you shitting me. A bus driver has to stop to stop a fight on his bus and protect the safety of his passengers and you ftards are going to penalize him because his bus is off schedule because of this…Are you fucking shitting me?” Then of course customer service girl informed me that she didn’t appreciate my vulgar language. I informed her in no uncertain terms that I didn’t like the fact that SanTran is more worried about keeping their damned schedule and the safety of their drivers than they are the safety of their own passengers. I also reminded her that an assault had actually happened on the bus. Customer Service girl said, in a controlled voice, that she was well aware of that. I smacked back with “You just don’t give a flying fuck...tThat’s the problem.” Then I said that I honestly hoped that Italian Bane guy (though I didn’t call him that to her) has some balls and sues SanTran and fucking ends up owning them. Before customer service girl could make another statement or excuse I told her to go to fucking hell and hung up on her.

So there is my amusing tale of my public transit experience…What you think? Is Lucas right? I look forward to your comments, readers…

Fear

A friend of mine, Kathleen Wilhoite, recently did a show on her podcast Suck the Joy about her and her co-host Koare Bonell’s personal fears. I found this interesting and thought I’d put in my thoughts on this subject. Though I’m going to be coming from a more raw and less amusing way of expressing this I think it will still be interesting and thought provoking…

 Fear is a constant in life. The truth is that even the toughest marine is scared senseless when they go into battle. The difference is the way they handle it.

In my life I have constant fears that I deal with on a daily basis. Recently, one of those fears came true. My Uncle, Eric Von Falconer (Eric wasn’t actually a blood family member but he was as close as a family member), died. His death was very quick and unexpected. He had been forced to go to the doctor after a long period of not going because he was having radical weight loss. Within two weeks he was diagnosed with colon cancer and died from this condition. When he was diagnosed the cancer had traveled into his other organs. One of my major fears is that I could get some kind of cancer or illness and not know until it was too late to save me. The reason for this is because I don’t have medical insurance and simply can’t afford it. I live pretty much from paycheck to paycheck with nothing in reserve. It isn’t that I fear death. I’ve experienced and seen so much in life that I know we are more than biological machines and death is not like shutting off a mechanical device. Something of us goes on. I know some people don’t believe that, but I know that with every fiber of my being. My fear is that I end my life the same way he did painfully and without hope. I want to die peacefully. I know I will die alone, I’ve known that all my life. I guess that is one reason I’ve been so brave when I’ve ended up saving people (but I won't get into that here)…someone was with me (the person I was saving) so I believed I couldn’t die.

Another fear I have is a common one, and that is of becoming homeless and losing everything I have. This became an honest fear after my mother died. I kinda find it odd that it didn’t emerge when my father died. I think the difference was the fact that when my father died all his estate went to my mother so, life went on except my father was not there. After my mother died there was fighting and bad blood over the estate. Also, I went from an occupant to an actually land owner with all the obligations and burdens. Now, if we default on taxes or things get screwed up my sister and I could be thrown out on the streets. Except for the two years my family had to live in a rental house after our fire, I’ve lived in the same house all my life. I’ve set down roots. The idea of having no place to go scares the crap out of me. The worst part of it is I know that is a very real possibility sometime in the future. My sister and I barely keep the house going as it is. If something happened to my sister I’d be screwed. Though my sister often accuses me not realizing this, it goes through my mind on a daily basis.

Associated with this fear is my fear of being out of work and unable to find a job. As I’ve said, I live literally from paycheck to paycheck now. If I lose my current job I’m royally screwed. Oh, but you could look forward to unemployment, you say. Sorry, I’m an independent contractor. The company I work for hasn’t put a cent into unemployment. So, I lose my job and in no short order I don’t eat, I lose my phone, my internet disappears, and in a few months I’m homeless….fun. I’ve been trying to find a secondary part time job, but good luck with that given the state of things. Hell, we have newly graduated people with BA degrees working at Burger King. Good luck to a forty-eight year old, guy with arthritic knees and bone spears on his feet being much of a pick in the race for jobs. Add in the fact I’ve been the CEO of a company, that doesn’t make it any better. I have to shake my head…

Ok, with all the fun I've mentioned, here is my fear in regard to the horror genre. My fear is that after all the blood, sweat, and tears I’ve put in being Eric Morse the fickle fans of horror will forget me and my works will disappear. You asses out there have wondered why I get so angry when you call me a has been and fluff off my books as out of print, thus unimportant. This is all I have in regard to a legacy. I don’t have a wife or children and don’t expect to get any in the future…sorry ladies, but you’ve made it quite clear you don’t want me. The only lady I truly loved is lost to me… The only thing that I have that is any indication that I’ve even lived on this earth is the body of work I’ve created…My artwork, books, poetry, songs, scripts, films, and radio shows. But it seems that there are those out there that take sadistic pleasure in trying to push those things into insignificance and try to turn me into a ghost. So, you wonder why I turn into Sargent Slaughter when these ass wipes pull shit and say my work is nothing or I’m not good enough to be at their conventions and meet my fans, or even that my work isn’t significant enough to the modern horror genre to be worth of an article in their magazines or websites. I’m fighting for the only piece of immortality I will ever truly have. You fuck with that and I will be merciless and it will be bloody because I will not let that happen….ever.

So, when it comes to fears I have my share. I deal with them on a daily basis. In some cases I use them to gain strength or to motive myself. I don’t let my fears rule me or disable me.  Fear is part of life; it’s how you deal with it that makes you a winner or loser or even a survivor…That is your choice….

48 Candles…

Well, I’ve finally reached my forty-eighth year on this Earth.

I remember when I was young birthdays were a major event. We had the entire family come around and have a party on a birthday. The thing was my dad and I used to have our birthday party on the same day, since he was born on August 12^th and me on August 13^th. Those were wonderful days. We’d have a huge BBQ and cook burgers, hot dogs, and chicken. We’d have a big cake, because we used to have up to thirty people at our parties. My dad and I would blow out the candles together, though I think he had me to most of that work.

Then, we bought our cabin in Clear Lake and our parties got a bit smaller. We still had plenty of family, because my Aunt Skippy (I still don’t know her real name…I think it was Mavis) lived up there. Also we would invite our friends that lived in the cove our cabin was located in. 

But then in 1986 my dad died and the large parties we had ended. From that point on we simply had our present family. I had started working so I started buying my own birthday cake. I had a bakery that made awesome cakes, but they were very expensive. This was the time when I had my Star Trek cake, Freddy Krueger cake, and ET cake. We’d also still have a family BBQ but our numbers were reduced to five to six people, but it was still fun. Also, during this time I was going out with K and she always did something special for my birthday. I remember a special picnic in Central Park with KFC (It was Kentucky Fried Chicken then) and she made strawberry shortcakes…(tears). Then K lost me and my mom died. After that for a few years my birthday party ended up at Fresh Choice (I’m not complaining) and a Safeway rum cake after.

Then I started working at my document research job and I started buying my own sheet cakes again. Then document research projects died down and I started working as a concession assistant manager at Cinemark Theatres. It was at this time I had the worst birthday experience of my life…seriously. It was my forty-first birthday. Cory Stevens had complete work on the film adaption of my novel Friday the 13^th: Mother’s Day and I had decided to have a combination premiere party and birthday party. I invited all my friends from the San Mateo Courthouse and Cinemark Century Redwood City Theatre, around forty-five people to the party. I got thirty RSVPs. I ended up spending $400 on food, soda, beer, and a huge full sheet cake with the Mother’s Day poster art on it. On that birthday I got up at 6am and set things up and filled our huge formal dining room table with food, including, my special sweet and sour meatballs, chicken wings in BBQ sauce, a meat and cheese platter, veggie platter (I used to do catering for Togos), and mini sandwiches… I had all the chairs set up in our living room for the premiere and put out four big bowls of popcorn. Then I waited. One hour turned into two hours. Two hours turned into three hours. I started calling people but no one answered. My sister and my niece and two of her friends ended up watching the film. I was completely and utterly crushed. I went to work at Cinemark the next day and got nothing but lame and insulting excuses from all my supposed friends. Even my supposed best bud that I works with in our document research firm, BRASS, said he didn’t come because he and his wife didn’t want to spend the $4 in all to take the bus to and from the party (which they would catch in front of his house and would let them off one house away from my house…). I have to say I’ve never forgiven any of them and none of those assholes made it up to me….

After the birthday of knives, as I call it, I completely stopped having birthdays for three years. During those years, my birthday was not a pleasant day. All I did all day was feel sorry for myself and think about how people didn’t give a shit about me after I had done stuff for them all year. And, during that time none of my friends did anything to turn that around, not even say “Happy Birthday”. Nice. My sister would try to make me feel better by buying me a cake but I would ignore it until the day after. This, of course, lead to arguments that didn’t help the situation.

In 2010 my niece and sister finally pushed me into having a birthday party. I didn’t take part in the planning except to invite my new friend at the time Jordan “The Eye” Moller and his wife Michelle. My sister had put together a Tiki themed party (complete with Tiki torches) and we actually had it in our front yard. I had a wonderful time.

Last year money was really tight so we saw a movie had lunch at Togos and I bought myself a red velvet cake. This year my sister paid for us to go to an 80s style dance party and I’ll be getting a chocolate mouse cake for myself when I get paid…The biggest thing for me this birthday is that my Facebook, Google+, and even My Space friends are sending me birthday wishes in droves. At the time of this writing I stopped counting at 200. At least in this case they are showing some humanity…which means a lot…

600

Congratulations, readers. We have reached and surpassed the 600 reads mark. This means you love me...or hate me if you are one of those numbers of Socials who read my blog shake their heads in disgust and contact their other Social friends to tell them "the horrible things that Eric Morse person is saying..." Then of course their friends come on this blog to see if Eric Morse dared open his mouth, because after all they are the elite of horror and nobody says nasty things about them...Well, nobody except me, because I know their just a bunch of shallow, heartless, social climbers, who when it really comes down to it don't know shit about horror. They just grabbed onto horror because the other Socials...you know the real Socials we dealt with in school would look at them and laugh their asses off. As I've said, Socials are not elite...they are jokes. The true social elite in horror are those people who get together with their real honest and loyal horror friends and with anything horror, be it a silent horror film, Asian horror, remake, creature feature...or whatever. These people don't bow to Comic Book Divas, Women in Horror, Horror Drunks or whatever exclusionary group that is out there promoting an us and them agenda. Get this straight, we are horror fans. We should unite in our love of horror. The outside world looks at us as wrong, we shouldn't look at each other that way. We need to strive for Horror Unity...where every horror fan is accepted and included by their peers in horror...I know that is a pipe dream....Ok, enough of the speech. Once again thank you for reaching this goal, now on to 900 ...you know what? The next goal will be 1,000. Can you do it, people? Do the Socials hate me that much? Let's see...

A Night at Club Fox

 

I have to say I love going to live musical performances. It’s always an amusing experience even if the band happens to suck; that’s because the audience, especially those dancing, are part of the entertainment.

Tonight, the evening of August 11^th, my sister, Jeanette, and I went to my favorite night club in San Mateo, The Club Fox, which is next to The Fox Theatre in Redwood City. We went to an 80s style dance party featuring the excellent band Rebel Yell, which plays hits from twelve different bands and artists like ACDC, Journey, Heart, Madonna, and Michael Jackson. We went to this performance as my sister’s gift to me for my birthday.

Rebel Yell was fantastic. They featured both a male and female vocalist. The band captured the feeling and the style of the multiple bands whose songs they played.

The most amusing part of the evening was sitting at our table watching people dancing. Most of the dancers proved the old joke that white people can’t dance. Oh, my god it was amusing. There was at least four shemales in amongst the crowd. Crowds of gals were gyrating and dancing in circles. Guys were trying to look cool, but really looked comical. There was even the amazing spaz that seems to come every musical performance I attend ( I wonder if the club hires him). Also, among the crowd there were some amazing and frightening celebrity look-a-likes. I saw a Japanese guy who bore an amusing resemblance to Laurence Harvey. There was a guy with orange dyed hair that looked uncomfortably like The Dark Knight Arisen killer. There was an Elissa Dowling look-a-like who was dancing with a older gray haired gentleman, unfortunate for him. Also, there was an uncomfortably close looking Reyna “Miss Misery” Young look-alike hanging and dancing with a very tall shemale in a lovely blue dress. I knew it definitely wasn’t Miss Misery because I know for a fact she would be doing her cheap little public access horror, or is it horrible, show at Chabot College….No, her majesty, the so called Queen of Horror (can I vomit now?), wouldn’t be caught dead at such a goshe` club as Club Fox. Oh, and there was also a very frightening Miss Love Chunks ( for those unaware that would be Michelle Shields) in attendance as well. I have to say that chunky girls with big asses shouldn’t wear leather pants. But, the most frightening look-a-like of the evening was the freaky and manic female who just happened to look like a blond version of my ex-pinup girl Angela Cottrill. One thing I have to say is she doesn’t look that attractive with blond hair and black eyebrows…Sorry Angela… This person whom I ended up finding out was named Angelique (it had to be the name of the witch from Dark Shadows…I’m so lucky) somehow thought I was giving her the eye, so she came over,  grabbed me up against my will, and made me dance with her. I looked back at my sister as she dragged me onto the dance floor with a look of terror on my face, but my sister just waved me on…thanks sis. So, for the next half hour I had to dance with this nut case. I’m serious, think Glen Close in Fatal Attraction nutty. I was lucky I didn’t dislocate my bad knee since she wouldn’t let me stop. I managed to get away from her, but not before she licked my ear (YUK!) and asked me for my phone number. I gave her my buddy Phil’s number and while she was writing it down (yes she actually had a pen and piece of paper in the leather jacket she was wearing) I made my escape. I grabbed up my my sister, who was amused as hell and took a hike.

So, that is the story of my evening at Club Fox. I have to say even with the amusing ending I had a fun evening…sort of…

Hate Mail

It’s said that you can track your success by the number of pieces of hate mail you get. Supposedly, the more people complain and attack you the more you're getting out there.

This last weekend I made the mistake of actually reading a few of these emails on the air and having my crew and a guest outsider comment on them. The emails were truly nasty and hit us all in weak points like these assholes who composed them wanted them to do. Some of my crew, who do not have the thick skin that I have, were royally hurt and torn down by the comments expressed in these emails.

One member of my crew I haven’t heard from since the show. He was royally insensed by the negative comments focused on him. I was really proud of the fact that he stood up for himself, but I could sense he felt beaten down after.

Another member of my crew and his loved ones were deeply hurt and disillusioned by the venomous bullshit thrown at them. This incredibly creative and talented person has suffered from a lot of self doubt in the past. With my inspiration and support he has gotten back into doing the thing he loves, but now he is questioning himself, and I feel responsible.

The truth is, I’ve tried to express this to my crew is that the emails read on the show were a tiny and loud minority of the people who listen to our show, if some of these Ftards even listen at all. Our show gets between 200 and 300 listens a week, most of those through our archive. Our show that we did the day before the email show (we did three last weekend) got 121 listens in 24 hours. To me that shows that we are doing something right. We wouldn’t be getting numbers like we have if we were a bunch of talentless losers that the horror community is laughing at. We are a successful internet radio show hosted by people who put their hearts and souls into what they do for free. I’m hoping the members of my crew will remember after the stinging subsides that those emails were created by a bunch of sad talentless low lives who are either jealous of the fact that we are on the air doing what we do, or they are petty internet trash that want to break us up because they are friends with the so called “social elitists” whose toes I’ve been stepping on lately. My crew needs to consider the pathetic source and not let these jackasses rule their lives. Remember, we are The Wolf Pack…We build, we inspire, and we stand together no matter what.

Oh, and to the losers who wrote those emails, it is now my policy to give each incoming email in The Eric Morse Project inbox a quick glance. If I catch any negativity I’m immediately going to delete them without further reading. So, you just keep up sending those emails and wasting your time, because I guess you can’t find anything else more creative or productive to do with your time. Me and my crew are too busy being creative and actually helping people to waste our time with your drivel….Chow!!!

300

I just checked the number of hits on my blog and I just hit 300. That is outstanding. I didn’t think I’d hit that number of views in so short of time. You guys really love me, or possibly royally hate me, which would be the more amusing possibility. If you are truly a free thinker and like my blog, please friend me here on Blogger or subscribe to my blog so you don’t miss upcoming blogs. I’ve been on a roll lately and have posted six very powerful blogs in a short time. I sincerely doubt I will keep up this pace for very long, but I will continue to blog when I have something I feel strong about. I’ve found on Facebook that my opposition keeps acting like asshats and pushing Facebook to censor me. I’ve gotten a number of notifications from that social network, mostly from people complaining out of spite or because they believe I’m stepping on their social groups toes. None of the posts they’ve complained about were particularly offensive. It was mostly that I was telling the truth and they don’t like it. So, I plan to use this blog to express myself and I will simply post links to it on Facebook and my group on Facebook, Assholes of Horror. That way if the asshats complain about my links I simply lose links the message is still going out, so I get the last laugh.

So, I’d like to say thank you to the 300 readers who brought me this far. I look forward to the next 300…

Oh, but you’re wrong….

Recently a person I’ve known for three and a half year cut ties with me. She said that one of the reasons she was cutting ties with me was because I had publiclly attacked three of her friends, one who was a close friend. She said that according to these people they did not know I even existed and that they didn’t know why I was attacking them. Then she claimed I was attacking these “innocent” people because I feel I’m not getting the proper recognition from the horror community, thus I was trying to drag these people down. Oh, and also the reason I am doing this is because I have a mental disability, naturally.

Amusingly enough this comes from a lady who was indeed diagnosed with a mental problem…I remember things too…

Here is the truth, or if you want to side with my former friend, the truth according to my delusional brain. The close friend this person mentions is none other than Kane Hodder. The attack she mentions is that I spoke of my disgust at the fact that Kane Hodder while doing a paranormal investigation at Rolling Hills Asylum decided for laughs to piss in three of the closets there. I know about this incident along with horror fans and the paranormal community because Kane wrote about this incident in his book UNMASKED. Now, personally I’m disgusted with Kane’s actions because not only is that desecration (if you believe in ghosts or not) but Rolling Hills is owned by Sharon Coyle who trusted Kane and The Hollywood Ghost Hunters only to have him piss on her home ( Yes Sharon does live in the asylum.). But that is supposedly totally acceptable to this ex-friend of mine. Also it seems that I and my associates at The Eric Morse Projects are assholes, sorry I mean me, because we are still pissed because Kane Hodder thru his assistant Author Mike (my ex-friend’s other buddy) on three separate occasions was scheduled to be on The Eric Morse Project, only to have Author Mike inform us that Kane was cancelling at the last minute. I should make note here that it was my co-host Count6String that dealt with Author Mike, whom he’d known from the convention scene. Anyway, the last time Kane, through his representative Author Mike, cancelled on us was five hours before the show because Kane was taking a flight at the time the show was going to broadcast. Well, supposedly Author Mike knew about the flight for three weeks but decided to inform us at the last minute…When my co-host questioned this Author Mike (Kane’s representative) stated that it was no big deal because we were just some public access podcast and weren’t paying Kane anyway…So, we are wrong to be pissed? Excuse me. Also, my ex-friend said we were being stupid to blame Kane for the actions of Author Mike. Excuse me, Author Mike was representing Kane Hodder, therefore in a business sense anything he told us and the way he treated us reflected on Kane as a business and was supposed done as Kane’s will. If this is not so and Kane has issues with how he is being represented then he needs to get an assistant that will show him in a better light….But of course I’m attacking Kane and Author Mike without good reason.

The final of my ex-friend’s buddies I’m supposedly attacking without good reason is Adolfo, one of the heads of Days of the Dead. Well, Adolfo is also a moderator on the forum for the site From Dusk Till Con (Note this situation was talked about in full in my blog, How NOT to incur my Wrath). I opened a thread asking fans to email the organizer of the convention Days of Terror. Adolfo allowed a number of members of the board to attack and insult me. When I talked about calling in the moderator Adolfo came on to the thread and reassured my attackers that he would not take any actions to stop them from attacking me. Then when one of my attackers said that I should never be allowed to be a part of a convention Adolfo said they wouldn’t have to worry, that he would make sure I didn’t get signed again….So I’m an asshole and being ridiculous for being pissed at Adolfo for saying this. Then of course after I continually publically mentioned the fact that Adolfo had said I was blackballed from conventions Adolfo emailed me and he didn’t know why he had earned my ire. I ignored him because nowhere in his email was an apology and I found his false amnesia insulting. The thing is I was a guest at Days of the Dead Indianapolis in 2011. Also, it was Adolfo who made me and Derek Young wait for half an hour at that convention because he had to decide if we could attend the VIP party. Also, both Adolfo and I had been on at least four podcasts together as guests. So Adolfo saying that he didn’t know I existed is a flat out lie. So anyway, after Adolfo’s initial email, which I ignored, he sent me another email saying now he wanted to get to know me and would sign me for the next years Los Angeles Days of the Dead. Again I ignored him because I didn’t trust him (wonder why) and at this point he should have read enough to have a full bio on me, given I had repeated it over and over as I stood up and fought to try and get into Days of Terror. Of course then Adolfo emailed me again and insulted me. He called me a coward because I didn’t answer his emails, though I did mention them in my posts for my group, Assholes of Horror. He also called me a sad glory hound with a mental disorder (this seems to be a constant way to cut down the opposition). But according to my ex-friend I have no good reason to think this person has personally attacked me…wow that is obvious.

But of course because they are her friends they are beyond reproach and I’m of course that nasty wrong person who is attacking all these people who have helped so many others…Yeah, help people in their little elite exclusionary community of the convention scene which I am not welcome because I won’t kiss their asses. Guess what, Angela, I don’t kiss ass…and this so called mental illness you’ve said I have, it’s a family trait. None of my family kisses ass and we pity the fools that dare cross us or expect us to. I’m actually the more mellow, calm, and merciful member of my family, so be warned.

Just because I stand up for myself doesn’t make me a glory hound and it doesn’t make me wrong..

Oh, and, Angela, for a person who says they don’t give a shit about horror, you definitely got your head up the ass of the horror social scene…just my little observation, since you love to observe things.

Since as is obvious my friendship was of so little value to you, it is good riddance to a false friend…