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…