My Kindertrauma:: The Fly (1958) By Unk

The weather is so incredibly perfect today that it reminds me of the days in my youth when I’d hide away in a wood-paneled TV room with the air conditioner blasting, watching classic horror movies like THE FLY (‘58). I can never thank local Philly stations like 17, 29, and 48 enough for providing such perfect escape from the sun and my fellow humans. I’ve got a soft spot for many a classic monster movie but I have to admit there’s something special about THE FLY because it truly horrified me in ways that many could not. It’s just such a grotesque and tragic concept and the ending is just plain freaky.

Ironically I don’t believe anyone is even in any real physical danger throughout the course of most of the film.  It’s really about the horror of making a humongous mistake that try as you might you just can’t fix, and then eventually begging someone you love to help you commit suicide so you can escape your hideous error. Somehow the relatable humanity of it all makes it more uncomfortable for me to watch than its peers. It stresses me out way down deep like a record scratch or a creased book cover or a stain on a favorite shirt.

Incomparable Vincent Price stars as Francois Delambre who learns his sister-in-law Helene (Patricia Owens) likely crushed his brother Andre (David Hedison) in a hydraulic press. It seems like a pretty indefensible act until you learn that poor Andre was sporting the head of a housefly thanks to colossally botching an experiment with a molecular transporter. To be fair, his intentions were swell, if it worked the transporter would have made all transit obsolete, but by some bad luck (or karma for previously testing the device on a cat) a house fly flew into the machine and their molecules got all kinds of mixed up. The only way to possibly fix things is to find the housefly that now has a miniature human/Andre head and reverse the process. This is when I start getting agitated and my neurosis kicks in. How the hell are you supposed to find a fly? They are so hard to wrangle! Worse still, in my mind, is that Andre’s son actually catches the fly but is told to let it go by his mother who is ignorant of the dilemma at the time! When Helene finally does understand the gravity of the situation she has several opportunities to capture the fly and louses every single one of them up. It’s very frustrating to behold and if I were her, I’d probably never stop kicking myself. If you are a person cursed with both morbid self-criticism and chronic empathy you don’t want to witness any of this. It’s as exasperating as watching a bank heist gone wrong movie.

But it’s the ending of the film that delivers my kindertrauma. After everyone involved has failed spectacularly in every possible way, the fly with Andre’s head is spotted in a spider web in the garden (too late to save Andre from his crushed skull but not too late to verify that Helene isn’t an insane murderer). Consistent with everyone’s luck in this movie, tiny Andre is wrapped in webbing, about to be eaten by a huge (compared to him) spider and is screeching in a high-pitched wail “Heeeelp Meeee!” I acknowledge that this scene is so bizarre that it reflects many shades of unintentional humor as well, but the look of abject fear and pitiful helpless misery on Andre’s face is profoundly disturbing. His expression kind of reminds me of the stretched-out distorted ghoulish faces that scream in the opening credits of NIGHT GALLERY; visages that also cause me anxiety. He’s just so minuscule and powerless in the face of a heartless devouring universe (and perhaps they all are). Mercifully he is crushed by a rock.

Somehow all ends (momentarily at least) well in THE FLY. Helene’s good name is cleared and Uncle Delambre and his nephew basically skip off to the circus. I, on the other hand, remain tormented by what I’ve seen and can still hear that horrid pleading voice buzzing in my head, “Heeelp Meee”!

My Kindertrauma:: Satan’s Triangle (1975) By Unk

Over the years I’ve brought up the 1975 made-for-TV movie SATAN’S TRIANGLE numerous times on these pages. For some reason though, I’ve never truly dived into my own personal experience with the film, which is bizarre when you consider it is my ground zero Kindertrauma and the main catalyst for this space even existing. SATAN’S TRIANGLE destroyed my fragile psyche for a good long while. It haunted my mind like no other and there was a time when I never thought I’d escape its grasp. Of course, like many a Kindertrauma, it’s likely a major factor in my becoming a horror fan too, as it hard wired me into forever searching for another film that I could be so deeply mortified by, gnaw upon, and eventually find some kind of gratifying truce with. I was eight years old, and I begged my mother to allow me to watch it. It was the seventies; nothing was more intriguing than the Bermuda Triangle or Satan. I thought it would be exciting and fun (it was for a bit). I didn’t know that the simple act of sleeping was going to become an impossible obstacle; I didn’t know my little brain could torture me so.

SATAN’S TRIANGLE concerns a boat discovered by the coast guard that is occupied by three dead bodies and a terrified female survivor. Doug McClure portrays Lt. J. Haig who is unable to safely remove Eva (Kim Novak) from the vessel thanks to helicopter issues and must then spend the night on the boat as she recounts the events that lead to the tragedy. She explains that the ship came across a strange priest drifting in the ocean and brought him on board only for supernatural happenings to occur resulting in the deaths of all aboard, most notably a man seemingly floating in the air in one of the cabins. Haig is easily able to explain the natural causes for all the events including the floating man who is actually pierced on a mounted swordfish. All is well and the gist of the tale seems to be about proving that every so-called supernatural happening has a perfectly logical explanation behind it. What a relief, except the next day when the two are picked up by the helicopter it is discovered that the corpse hanging from the mast was actually a woman and not the priest (Alejandro Rey) as previously believed (and seen). As this news is relayed aboard the helicopter, Eva begins to smile in a horrifically sinister way and suddenly transforms into the priest who throws Haig out of the helicopter and ominously demands for the soul of the terrified pilot who opts to crash into the water instead. Shortly after, Haig is seen floating in the ocean flagging down rescuers now sporting the most creepy, evil grin on his face! He’s not Haig, he’s the shape-shifting Devil!

It was over and I proudly survived. Sure the movie sorta sneakily lead me down one path only to slam me with a psychological lead pipe from behind when I was ill-prepared but I was still standing (for now). I took my victory lap up our carpeted Brady Bunch-style open staircase and then I came to my bedroom door. But it wasn’t my door anymore. It was a black, rectangular void leading into an infinite abyss. I could not go into that room. I cried and I begged and my mother, in her infinite apathy, delivered threats and eventually pushed me inside. What was I afraid of? There was nothing there. Only darkness….and the devil… the devil could find me anywhere.

All I’d have to do is think of him and he’d see me like a glowing lighthouse and find me. He’d possess me and take my soul and nobody would know I didn’t exist anymore. I’d be replaced and nobody would miss me. Hiding under the covers I devised a plan- all I’d have to do is NOT think of Satan and then I’d be safe! Ever tried not thinking of something? It’s hard. Try not to think of a blue elephant and guess what? He’s right there in the center of your mind; maybe he’s even tap-dancing or riding on a unicycle or…devouring your soul and taking over your body.

My mind was not my own and it would not shut up. I want to say this went on for months but maybe it was just weeks in kid-time. Every night, as I tried to sleep, I’d fear Satan would come and get me, alerted to my existence by my betraying loudmouth brain. I remembered the illustration of him in my Bible book and I knew he was real because that book only dealt in cold hard facts like the story of Noah’s Ark. My lone comfort was a red transistor radio that would distract me but sometimes the song “Someone’s Knocking on the Door” by Wings would come on and I’d become so terrified that the “someone” knocking on my door was Satan that I’d have turn it off. I was sure if I ever saw the movie again I’d lose my mind. I’d even check the TV Guide to make sure it wasn’t airing. The only thing that saved me was pure exhaustion. One night my brain tried to pull me toward the hell-zone but I was simply too tired to torture myself anymore. And that was it. I got older and it kindly became a fuzzy memory.

When I was an adult and the Internet came around, this TV movie was the first thing I searched for. I wasn’t even sure if it was real or just a dream at that point. I had even forgotten the title. But I found it! It was real! I ordered a bootleg VHS of it (which I’m sure I still have). Did I dare watch it? Would I go insane if I did? I watched it again as an adult and I loved every creepy minute of it. Certainly, other people had similar bugaboo films that caused havoc on their peace of mind as kids. I wanted to hear their stories and feel less alone. That’s pretty much how Kindertrauma came to be. I’m not a very social person but I found if I ever asked a person “What movie traumatized you as a child?” I was always fascinated and strangely comforted by the answer (and I always will be).

SATAN”S TRIANGLE ultimately became a big part of my life but what was once a negative experience transformed itself, thanks to some kind of alchemy, into a positive one. I’ve gotten over my childhood fear (and I now love that Wings song) but I have to admit that every now and then I’ll witness a certain type of insincere duplicitous smile and I can’t help feeling something churn deep down in the pit of my soul.

Name That Trauma:: Sebastian L. on a Disintegrating Woman

Hello Kindertrauma! I have a very vivid memory of a terrifying TV moment that I experienced in the late 90s that I am hoping to finally resolve. It probably goes without saying that while this scene is seared in my mind, my recollections of it may not be entirely accurate. It’s very likely my imagination has filled in the blanks over the years, so take all details with a grain of salt!

From what I recall, there are two adult women (one younger and blonde, the other closer to middle age and in a blue sweater – I think her name is Melanie) sitting in a darkened living room watching TV. They’re watching old home movies of a young girl dancing, and it seems like the girl is Melanie’s daughter. This isn’t a happy scene, however, as Melanie seems to be depressed, and is watching the tapes to relive better times. Maybe she’s become estranged from her daughter, or perhaps her daughter has even passed away. The younger woman tries to comfort her, telling her that everything will be alright, and she may even try to encourage Melanie to turn off the tapes. At one point, the younger woman gets up to go into the kitchen, as Melanie lights a cigarette. While she’s in the kitchen, the younger woman hears a loud noise coming from the living room. She walks back in and it’s clear that something weird has happened. She finds the TV playing nothing but static, and sees Melanie just sitting there in the shadows, cigarette between her fingers, staring off into nothing. The young woman tries to get her attention, but she’s unresponsive, and after a moment, she disintegrates into dust. The scene ends with the younger woman screaming.

I suspect this was a cold open to a TV show, as not only is it very likely that it came on after something else I had been watching, but I also remember it cutting into opening credits (though I don’t remember the details of this at all). I’m fairly positive I saw this on my local (Canadian) station, and for years I’ve thought it might be an episode of either the Outer Limits revival series, or an episode of Da Vinci’s Inquest, just because I remember seeing ads for those constantly at the time. However, I’ve done a bit of digging into the Outer Limits and haven’t found anything, and Da Vinci’s Inquest seems like more of a cop drama than a supernatural one, so honestly I’m not sure how viable either of these leads are. Still, of all the weird, unsettling things I saw on TV as a kid that stuck with me, this is the one that I remember most clearly (probably due as much to its emotional intensity as its outwardly creepy climax), and I’m hoping that this will be enough to spur someone else’s memory. I’d love to finally put this near-lifelong curiosity to rest.

-Sebastian L.

Name That Trauma:: Chris R. on Crime Fighting Kids

I have childhood fragments of a ( not terribly traumatic) show that I have no idea how to go about researching. I don’t believe this was a movie but a series, and I know it from a teacher wheeling a TV into a room and playing either a cable feed or VHS tape. This would have been early 1980s probably pre-1983.

I recall a show with a boarding school for genius kids who solved mysteries and/or fought crime. There was a team of them of mixed ages, mostly white I believe they had a token African-American kid. One kid I believe wore glasses, which we know indicates he must have been Very Smart Indeed.

I recall these kids having what seemed unusually large beds in a housing situation with a pretty awesome timbered roof/attic area, and I recall there being some form of “secret” compartment behind one or more headboards where at least one kid kept crimefighting gear Batcave style.

To the best of my recollection, the kids weren’t superheroes of any sort, they were just smart and foiled crime Scooby-Doo style. Maybe they were in an orphanage?! I recall no plots, but I feel like this was a series I only saw one or two episodes of, not a movie.

Any help is welcome. This has bothered me for years.

Kindertrauma Classic:: Bad Ronald (’74)

BAD RONALD is a made-for-television movie based on a book of the same name by Jack Vance that originally aired on the 23rd of October 1974. In its brief seventy-four minute runtime, it packs many a creepy thrill as it examines the mind of an isolated outsider as he slides swiftly toward a psychotic break. Challenging viewers’ sympathies with the titular character at regular intervals, BAD RONALD juggles a dark character study, a family drama, suspense, and finally horror in a unique way. It’s easy to find yourself scared FOR Ronald and scared OF Ronald at the same time and it’s never quite clear just how “bad” Ronald is willing to get in order to preserve the fantasy world he has armored himself with.

Ronald Wilby (Scott Jacoby) is a social pariah who lives with the knowledge that when his parents were divorced, his father made a deal with his mother (Kim Hunter) to break all ties in exchange for never having to pay child support. One day after fleeing a humiliating experience with an unrequited crush at a pool party, Ronald bumps into his crush’s younger sister who makes the mistake of dissing his mom. Ronald loses his temper, pushes the girl to the ground, and unfortunately, her head hits a cinder block causing her death. He then buries the girl in a shallow grave and heads home. After hearing of the incident, Ronald’s mother crafts a secret room out of a downstairs bathroom where he can hide away from the world and avoid prosecution. The plan works fine for a while until Ronald’s mother dies and the house is sold to a new family. Observing the new residents from his concealed space, Ronald becomes obsessed with one of the daughters and begins to lose his grip on reality. Madness, another dead body, and multiple kidnappings ensue until finally Ronald’s eye is spied in a peephole and he comes crashing through a false wall raving like a madman and is apprehended.

BAD RONALD is in an awkward position when it comes to delivering scares. For most of the runtime, the audience has been led to sympathize with Ronald’s plight and most of the tension comes from the fear that he might be found out. Yet, when an innocent family is in danger and Ronald’s sanity clearly begins to unravel, gears are switched and anguish and concern are stoked over what he is actually capable of. No matter your level of empathy for Ronald though, the idea of a person secretly hiding in your walls and spying on you is inescapably unnerving. I’m sure many young folks went to bed after viewing BAD RONALD on TV (it was a late-night staple for decades) with their imaginations ignited with thoughts of some unseen presence hiding nearby, quietly watching and waiting.

Positive (not to mention creeped-out) word of mouth has kept BAD RONALD notorious for decades. Happily, it’s one of the lucky few TV movies that have been consistently available on home media from VHS to DVD and more recently Blu-ray (Note: the latter two of which sport an applauding quote from this very page on the back). Something about this tale of an antisocial misfit covertly lodging within a family’s walls has kept Ronald’s legend alive and spreading like a whispered urban legend (there was even a short-lived popular band named after the telefilm). Ronald himself may have been a shunned outcast but the film that bears his name couldn’t be more popular among those who enjoy classic made-for-TV horror. Now, go check your walls for peepholes.

Kindertrauma Classic:: Don’t Go To Sleep (’82)

On December 10th, 1982 ABC aired the horror-thriller DON’T GO TO SLEEP at 9PM. This “ABC Friday Night Movie” was produced and directed by Richard Lang, executive produced by Aaron Spelling & Douglas S. Cramer, and written by actor/screenwriter Ned Wynn. The unique production combined BAD SEED-inspired evil child elements with the popular slasher movie formula of its day while still tightly embracing the heart of a classic gothic ghost story. The end result (in my opinion anyway) is arguably the best made-for-TV horror film of its decade.

When recovering from the death of a child maybe it’s not a good idea to move into a house with the address of 13666.

Dad Phillip (Dennis Weaver), Mom Laura (Valerie Harper), daughter Mary (Robin Ignico) son Kevin (Oliver Robins), and cantankerous grandma Bernice (the great Ruth Gordon) are hoping for a new start after eldest child Jennifer (Kristin Cumming) died in a tragic car fire. All’s well until the ghost of Jennifer seemingly appears before Mary, vocalizing a grudge that won’t be satiated until the entire family is dead. Is Mary mad as a hatter and hallucinating her sister or has her devious sibling really come back for revenge? In any case, burning beds, iguana-induced heart attacks, rooftop falls and baths with electricity ensue. Eventually, Mary is prime suspect number one and is fitted with a child-sized straight jacket and shoved into a padded room where she recounts the genesis of the horror and becomes the poster child for those suffering from middle child syndrome everywhere.

Two scenes, in particular, seem to have been seared into viewer’s memories deeper than others. One involves a pizza cutter being used as a threatening murder weapon (hey, this was during the eighties slasher boom when literally no tool found in a kitchen, garage, or barn was out of bounds as an instrument of death), and the other concerns the movie’s door slamming mind-blowing closure. The latter delivers a visual so eerie that it boggles the mind how it could be so perfectly constructed without some kind of trickery. I won’t spoil much here but it presents the creepiest Cheshire Cat grin I pray I’ll ever have to witness. Not since I think, THE HAUNTING (‘63) has a singular image carried so much phantasmagorical weight.

Momentary lapses toward soap opera histrionics aside, DON’T GO TO SLEEP delivers an exceptionally dark vision of family dysfunction, sibling rivalry, grief, and finally insanity. Unlike the same year’s ghost spectacle POLTERGEIST (which shares actor Oliver Robins) there’s no “phew!” happy relief ending and few family members survive. You may need a neck brace for the way this movie’s mood swings from campy to cutthroat to undeniably uncanny and back again. Absurdities abound (that pizza cutter!) but don’t be surprised if this TV movie’s final image is difficult to shake from your brain.

Trauma Scene:: The NeverEnding Story & the Death of Artax

Wolfgang Peterson’s 1984 adaption of Michael Ende’s book THE NEVERENDING STORY presents a rich colorful world called Fantasia, which is strewn with many dangers. First and foremost is “The Nothing” which threatens to devour and erase everything in existence if a young hero named Atreyu (Noah Hathaway) can’t find a way to thwart it. If that obstacle wasn’t enough, the dark force elicits the aid of a horrific sharp-fanged giant wolf monster with glowing eyes called Gmork who steadfastly shadows Atreyu in hopes to rip him to shreds. Strangely enough though, THE NEVERENDING STORY’s most traumatizing scene involves neither of these embodiments of evil but rather a mundane, in appearance, swamp. 

Early on in his quest, Atreyu and his trusty sidekick, a majestic white horse named Artex, are required to gain information from a giant turtle named Morla. To find Morla they must first travel through what is known as the Swamps of Sadness. Unfortunately, as one passes through said swamp they are taken over by depressive thoughts and hopelessness. Though Atreyu is at least partially protected by an amulet, Artex the horse succumbs to despair and begins to sink slowly into the mud. Atreyu almost laughs it off at first but then begins to realize his best friend may be beyond rallying. Atreyu desperately pleads with Artex to fight against the sadness that has overtaken him. He begs, “You have to try. You have to care. You are my friend. You have to move or you’re going to die! Don’t quit, Artex!” but to no avail. Suddenly the beautiful white creature has completely disappeared into the mud seemingly never to return and Atreyu is left devastated, lost and alone.

It seems impossible that a children’s film could be so emotionally cruel especially at such an early stage of the story. As heartbreaking as the scene would obviously be to children, it also loudly resonates with anyone of any age who has ever lost anyone. It would be one thing to witness Artex gallantly die in battle or be physically defeated but something about his psychological turmoil and loss of will to exist is especially difficult to grapple with. Most stories directed at children inform us that we have the power to will ourselves to victory (think of Tinker Bell’s resurrection in Peter Pan) but here even the most sincere and desperate pleas and prayers are coldly denied. It’s like a harpoon of reality striking a fluffy cartoon bunny. We don’t really even know Artex at this point in the story and yet of course we do; anyone who has ever loved anyone recognizes how Atreyu feels towards his friend. Death itself is eternally painful to deal with and when it’s entangled with the demise of hope, it’s somehow even harsher.

I’ve never been so happy to deliver a SPOILER ALERT in my life. After jumping through a zillion hoops we won’t get into here, Atreyu’s mission to save Fantasia is a success. Turns out there’s a reason the film and book are titled as they are and The Nothingness ain’t nothing compared to the power of imagination. Phew. During a victory lap we get to see the most comforting image to ever grace a screen, that of Atreyu and Artex riding together in full optimistic victorious glory (I have to say, there’s only two types of people in this world, those who ball their eyes out during this movie and heartless monsters who should be avoided at all costs). I’m almost mad at THE NEVERENDING STORY for yanking on my heartstrings in such a brutal matter but how can I not be impressed that its depiction of loss is more devastatingly relatable than a thousand adult dramas that tackle the same subject put together. Watching it again as an adult, I can tell you it has lost zero of its impact, in fact, due to life experience, I can sadly relate to it even more. Damn those swamps of sadness.

Traumafession:: Cosmo M. on The X-Files episode “Badlaa”

Oh, my goodness! The first time I experienced kindertrauma happened in 2001 when I was 7 years old and THE X-FILES was a popular tv show. Deep Roy played a character called the “Badlaa” which is also the title of the episode. In this episode, the little monster crawled inside you, and ate you from the inside out! His character seriously scared the crap out of me for years after I first witnessed him. I vaguely remember seeing him on a cart without any legs, starring into the camera after someone jumped into the pool, and exploding out of a dead person’s stomach at the coroner’s office.

The way he was depicted sitting on the dolly gave me the creeps. I had never seen anything that didn’t have any legs before. Those shiny brown stubs, that I now know were just his knee caps, just made my imagination run wild. The fact that he didn’t have legs was disturbing to me and the implications for how his character lost his legs made me lose sleep for years when I would imagine what the experience was like losing your shins.   

The pool scene was horrific as well. I remember there was a teenager that fell victim to the Badlaa in a pool, whom I could empathize with. My family would frequent the local pool in the neighborhood as well as the pool at my dad’s local gym. Some folks have the unreasonable fear of a shark in the swimming pool, but not me. All I could imagine was Deep Roy swimming after me. It probably made me a better swimmer because if the thought of his character ever popped into my head, I would ace it to the edge of the pool and hop out.

Lastly, there was that scene when he pops out of a dead person’s stomach when agent Scully was performing an autopsy, jeez! I can remember that hand popping out of that person’s guts covered in blood sending shivers down my spine. There were blood streaks across the floor from where he scooted across after exiting the dead man’s belly. Oh man, truly disturbing for a young child.

However, these experiences have led me to have an affinity to the horror genre. There’s nothing quite like a good controlled scare; it helps us feel alive. Gets an emotion out of us that’s also fun to experience. The gory scenes from the TV show set fourth my appreciation for the artform as well. Some of my peers don’t quite understand why I like gory films. Obviously, they are fake but the effort people put in to make our stomachs churn is real and I’m thankful for all the hard work that goes into them. At the time when I was a kid, it seriously freaked me out but in my adulthood I’m thankful I have an appreciation for the artform of horror. 

Traumafession:: Director Chris Moore on Night of the Living Dead (1968)

I wasn’t usually allowed to watch horror films as a kid unless they were rated PG (or possibly PG-13 if my folks were feeling liberal) or if they were on TV where all the gore, sex, nudity, and language would be cut out. The general rule was that, if it was made before 1970 or so, it was probably okay for me to see. With this rule in place, I tried my hardest to find whatever appropriate horror films I could get my hands on. 

One night, while browsing the aisles of my favorite mom and pop video store, Video Library, I saw it. It was staring back at me, taunting me with its bright pink border surrounding a garish and gory piece of art in the middle. It reminded me of the outside of those cheap haunted house rides I’d see at the state fair every October. People were chewing on human flesh, a car was on fire, and a bloody woman was screaming at the bottom. I had to know what horrors were contained inside this tape!

I brought the tape to my father who inspected it, looked at the back of it, and nodded with approval. It was black and white and not rated. How bad could it be? He even said he’d watch it with me in case I got too scared. “Night of the Living Dead!”, he said. “I remember this one. You’ll be fine.”

We got back home, popped the tape in the VCR, and the film started with a static shot of an old country road like many of the ones we had on the outskirts of town. The music was foreboding, but I had my dad there. What could go wrong?

While the first scene did make me uncomfortable, I didn’t get the first true jolt until Barbara got to the farm house, went upstairs, and saw the decomposing head on the staircase. I shrieked when she did and covered my eyes. Maybe I wasn’t ready for this. 

I got my wits together and powered through the rest of the movie, still uncomfortable and terrified I’d have to see that terrifying head again. This movie wasn’t like the Vincent Price horror movies I’d seen. This was stark, brutal, and took no prisoners. No one was safe, including the audience. 

It wasn’t until young Karen came towards her mother in the basement that I started feeling like I couldn’t breathe and I might not be able to handle the rest of this movie. As she approached her hapless mother and grabbed a garden tool off the wall, I could feel my palms getting sweaty. Surely, they weren’t going to show this, were they? As Karen backed her mother into a corner and started stabbing her to death, I ran out of the room, screaming. 

I didn’t see the rest of the film for at least another decade and, if you want to know the truth, every time I see that scene, I still want to run out of the room. Thank you, George Romero, for giving me one of my first true horror film experiences. 

UNK SEZ: Our good pal Director Chris Moore (BLESSED ARE THE CHILDREN, TRIGGERED, A STRANGER AMONG THE LIVING) has an awesome new movie out called CHILDREN OF SIN and as usual, it’s as thought provoking as it is fright inducing! Check out the trailer HERE!