Before I start, fuck you too.

Came home this evening from the standard Friday night few bottles of wine and a few sharpened exchanged opinions , and - doused in hops - a couple of things that I bump into upon my return lob something sharp and black straight through me and leave me lying around twitching.

And it leaves me more of a wreck than I've been since - well, it's none of your business since when. But it's a "when" that you've got no need to know about, and your typing an URL into your browser doesn't give you the privledge to know. Even rubbing up and down against the "You don't need to know" is beyond you clearance. So relax, deal with what you get from this post, or move on.

So, after doing the bawling kid lob-stuff-at-walls routine, I head living-roomward to drink tea with Housemate V1.0. He's playing Medieval: Total War, and hacking his way through the middle-centurys of mid-Europe while the TV blares the background. I crash down and ask what is, at exactly the same momemt I identify it. It's the close of The Sixth Sense.

I laugh. I tell him that I've ended up crying every time I've seen the Sixth Sense at the close - not with the Willis twist, but with the moment of closure between mother and child. I sit down to catch it. And fuck me - Shallamaladingdong goes and fucks me over again. Sure, I'm raw already and God knows what could set me off again, but I'm sitting there on a second hand sofa bawling my eyes out and there's nothing I can do to stop it.

At the most basal level, the Six Sense is an adult's horror film. It's at its most horrifying when it's for parents. It's about having a child who's in huge pain and not being able to do anything to stop it, no matter how good a parent you are. This flies right past kids or anyone too sociopathic to realise this basic humanistic point of the sixth sense. Some people get it early, and it hits them. Other peoples miss it, and when they grow up a bit they'll be a little embarassed about the empty sociopathy. And some people can't help but understand what the real horror is here.

I honestly don't know which category I belong to, but it tears me apart each time, even this time when I wasn't built up to it.

I've said it before: Shamalangadingdong is a genuine creative force. I'm not always particularly interested in what he has to say, but I admire the fact that he has *something* to say. A creator who just wants to be an entertainer is a sallow thing indeed. It's either about something, or it's about nothing. If it's the former, you get what fate has dealt you. If it's t he latter, you get what you deserve.

I watch it, make tea, and head back to my PC and type out angry words about this, but not really about this.

And then I stop, and make more tea.

As I said: Fuck you too.