Sometimes when you’re writing a book, it’s irresistible to include the sound of a dog barking in the distance. Can’t deal with life? Film a scene where the overwhelmed character escapes to the bottom of a pool.
Nerves, dread or horror? You puke your guts out. I’ve been sleeping on the job. There’s only so much time in the day and posting random occurrences (I’m not fixated enough to actively seek out these scenes) of my favorite cinematic cliché has taken a back seat (ha, the clichés won’t stop). Here, I have two pay cable examples from the semi-recent past.
Beheading, I’d have trouble watching. That’s certainly a far more antiquated method of execution than a firing squad. I honestly don’t understand the uproar with the recent Utah execution. Killing is killing; it’s horrible all around whether you use a violent method or something seemingly humane like lethal injection. Though she probably wouldn’t remember saying so and I can’t even imagine the context for this conversation, I recall my grandma saying when I was a kid that she’d want a firing squad if facing the death penalty.
Anyway, all I’ve learned from half-watching The Tudors is that Henry the VIII was kind of a dick. Fifth wife, Catherine Howard, was young, flirtatious and a cheater. Therefore, she eventually got the axe. But first went Culpepper. Henry liked him and his indiscretions with Catherine occurred before she married the king so he just got his head chopped off. Dereham, who was about to get the whole traitor shebang: hanging, drawing, quartering, beheading, puked while watching Culpepper meet his end. You know, this might actually be a situation where I’d lose the contents of my stomach. That much less to disembowel. Watch the whole scene.
I’ve only seen two corpses in my life, both properly embalmed and in a casket: a coworker and former classmate with a heroin problem and an uncle who succumbed to diabetes like just about everyone on my dad’s side of the family including him (so far, no dialysis or amputations for me, just a nice insulin resistance).
Neither involved Mormonism, compounds or being frozen and carted all around Utah before falling out of a casket, so it’s hard to say how I’d react to a situation like Roman Grant’s funeral on Big Love. I’d likely scream, not barf. Sadly, Big Love is no longer available on demand and no one is obsessive enough to post video clips on YouTube.