Article Tags: Marc Sheppard
When the SyFy channel unlocked the door to this year’s annual New Year’s Day marathon with the key to imagination, my two teenage sons finally accepted the invitation to accompany me inside. So you can imagine how the World Wildlife Fund’s green decision to spin their sci-fi/fantasy/horror global warming yarns during commercial breaks of my favorite sci-fi/fantasy/horror yarns made me see red…until, that is, I recognized the teaching moment presented by crossing over from the Twilight Zone’s land of both shadow and substance to the equally fantastic Climate Alarm Zone.
Submitted for your perusal: The time – a frost-nipped and early Friday afternoon on the first day of the first month of the first year of the new decade. The place — a quintessential vinyl-clad house set back obliquely on an icy-tree-lined suburban street, whose doors open invitingly to sights cast from a glowing High-Def television set, the scent of a split cedar log smoldering in a brick fireplace, and the sounds of frozen-rain pelting a shingled roof, assuaging any thought of outdoor activity.
Inside, my boys had just witnessed a terrifyingly young Billy Mumy wishing his tortured victims away to the cornfield for the very first time. And then the shocking twist-ending of Donna Douglas’s eleventh and final facial surgery in her desperate struggle to look “like everybody else.” And Telly Savalas discovering how dead-wrong he was to pay the words “My name is Talky Tina, and I’m going to kill you,” spoken by his step-daughter’s new doll, no particular heed.
Source: americanthinker.com