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The meaning of Horror
13 November, 2004

A few days ago, found an acquaintance and a friend of mine watching cable television. As I entered the room, my acquaintance looked at me and said, "We were just having a conversation about big hair."
"Mm-hm," was my uninspired reply.
"There's a retrospective about the 1980s on TV," my friend explained, "They're at 1983 right now."
"I've always loved big hair," said the first, "I'm seriously contemplating having big hair again, now that it's coming back in style."
I paused. "If you've always loved big hair," I replied, feeling shamefully obvious but needing to follow this path nonetheless, "why don't you just wear big hair, regardless of whether or not it's in style?"
"I guess that proves how much of a fashion slave I am," was her simple reply.

I found much to be horrified about in this brief episode. I was horrified that my friend and my acquaintance were watching cable television, as I find television horrifically dull, insulting, and embarrassing. Naturally, then I am extremely horrified at television's popularity. As we know, millions of people watch tens of millions of hours of television every week.

I was horrified by the big hair of the '80s, which I saw on the television. But I was more horrified that my acquaintance found "big hair" to be a matter of serious import. I will not even discuss her horrific excitement in regards to the latest candy bar.

I tell you this anecdote not to be, as a former co-worker once called me, "just a big Eeyore." I tell you because, for reasons I believe to be obvious, horror is very much a pervasive sentiment among Canadians this week.

The week's swell of horror at the outcome of one nations' election caused me to reflect on my own horror. I am horrified by a great many things, as my faithful readers can attest to. In all honesty, I agree without hesitation with those who cannot believe that I am able even to set foot outside of my house.

The vehicles being driven on the streets are horrific, and are driven in a horrific manner. The litter on the grass is horrific. The shopping bags people carry are horrific, and the shoppers' beatific, oblivious grins are all the more so. The pale blue flicker in so many living room windows is horrific. The billboards are horrific, as are all of the myriad newer forms of advertisement.

The world frightens me. Of course, I am aghast at the actions taken by various world governments. I am appalled at the infinite advertising campaigns shoved in my face from the moment I step onto my porch. I am sickened by much of the music which screams out of passing vehicles and gushes from speakers outside of bars.

But these are all symptoms of something more terrifying. What is truly bone-chilling is the fact that all of these things are made possible by the decisions of regular people. People listen and dance to that music. People actually respond to the droning, degrading advertisements. And people vote for governments.

The only thing more awful than tyranny forced onto people is tyranny requested by people. The last century's atrocities in Europe, Africa, and South America are not secrets. They are widely known. So why would the world's supposedly most advanced nation eagerly take the steps which lead towards those same atrocities? The horror lying in the answers to that question make SUVs, misogynist rap, ubiquitous billboards, and big hair look like paradise. And, of course, I can't think of an answer that doesn't horrify me.

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