Category: Traumafessions

Humpty Dumpty we all know to have been a riddle, with the answer of course being that the mysterious Humpty was in fact, an egg. Nothing particularly eerie about that, right?  Well, as soon as someone decided to take the guesswork out of the rhyme, by illustrating Mr. Dumpty perched atop his wall, and gave him a face, it all changed. To a child (at least to me), we now had the story of a life; a terrifyingly fragile one at that. The rhyme was no longer a riddle; instead it could be surmised as:

"The fragile Eggman unwisely sat top a wall. He fell and died horribly."

I remember being read this out of an Old-school Mother Goose book as a very young child and thinking what a nightmare it was to be Humpty Dumpty, as veritably anything (I had broken many an egg trying to help my Mom cook, promising to be careful) would lead this poor creature to a yolk-splattered death. Humpty couldn't go out and play, he couldn't slide down the stairs…everything I knew to be fun was off-limits to Humpty, with any false move leading to his doom. His only real option would be to stay at home in the nest or egg carton and not move.

Of course I knew Eggmen didn't exist. It was the concept of this absurd fragility that had me so scared.

The picture out of that book sealed the deal, for it depicted the wide-eyed, last-second look of terror as Humpty, seeing the end of his cursed existence a few seconds away, was beginning to fall. I would imagine what the after-effect drawing would look like; that panicked, open-mouth look, and huge open eyes frozen amidst cracked shell and leaking albumen. I could even hear him scream.

I scribbled over his face with a pen, in an attempt to hide the first "Face of Death," I had ever witnessed, but to no avail. I still knew it was there. I remember later watching SESAME STREET where a very freakish looking Humpty, with a mouth that caved in as he spoke, was being interviewed by Kermit the Frog as a nursery-rhyme news correspondent, and feeling the sense of dread that it was only a short matter of time until he was destined to fall from the wall, and no one would be able to help. Such was the fate of the doomed Eggmen.

The Eggmen repulsed me, as if they were the Elephant-men of the nursery rhyme circuit. It was not as if I wanted to save them; rather, I never wanted them to exist.

Earlier: Reader Bigwig not so fondly recalls Struwwelpeter.

Now, at this time of writing, I am 15 years old. I regularly watch violent anime. Recently I was watching WHEN A STRANGER CALLS, and poking fun at it throughout. I often watch documentaries about ghosts, and read about them. Halloween is my favorite holiday, partly because of all the scary things. I've written about sociopathic serial killers before. I love the horror genre, and often know who's going to die first in said movies. And yet, this one, common, everyday object scares me.

A closed door.

No really.

Stop laughing.

There's a reason, and I'm about to share, as I drown my sorrows in Sunkist.

When I was very little, possibly around 5 or 6, my dad was a huge science fiction junkie. Very often, the SciFi Channel was on, and I remember him having alien-related objects around the house. What scared me was this scene, possibly a commercial, but I'm not sure.

What happened was that a door was shown. After a few seconds, a cracking sound was heard, as a decaying hand broke through said door. Suddenly, this zombie/skeleton/ghoul thing, with white shaggy hair, sticks its head through the crack. I don't remember the rest, but I think I remember it saying something along the lines of "Hey. Want to watch a new show?" Or something. I don't remember exactly.

As a result, even at my age, I have issues with closed doors. Whenever I'm in a room alone with one, and it's the only exit, I think of what is behind that door, and get anxious, particularly worried that there is something behind said door. In fact, I keep the door open a crack usually, so I can see any ghouls that will try to bust open my door, in the name of their show. Thank you so much, SciFi, for giving me a fear of doors!

UNK SEZ: First of all Kami, I would like to congratulate you on your honesty and bravery. I can assure you that you are in capable hands, as I have decades of afternoon talk show watching under my belt. I have also read every self-help book on the market from "Why is Everyone Looking at Me Funny?" to "Holy Moly, Your Shadow is Chasing You." In fact, I know exactly what your problem is. The technical term that learned folks like myself like to use is "a-door-aphobia." The good news is, you've already made the first step toward recovery by admitting to a group of strangers that you've got bats in your belfry. Now the healing can begin…

My father, Dr. Satanstein, taught me long ago that the best way to get over my fear of water was to be thrown in the deep end of our pool with my feet chained to a radiator. (Sounds harsh, but guess who just bought a new snorkel!) It's called tough love Kami; it ain't easy but it works. Above and below I present you with a scary collection of doors to stare at until you are no longer scared of them. I also suggest that you play ring and run on at least two of your neighbors before going to bed. Good luck Kami, I have every faith in your recovery.

As for everyone else, can you identify the movies these doors are from? Some are easy and some will make you want to grab torches and storm Kindertrauma Castle. (Remember #1 is above the post!) Leave your guesses in the comments section. I'll post the answers on Monday! (And yes EVIL ON TWO LEGS, I know you just did something like this but you've heard that old chestnut about rip-offs being the sincerest form of flattery right? Besides this is my revenge, now I'm in control! Mwahahahaha!)

UNK: I hope that I do not have to point out that this last one is not a door at all but an adorable little puppy-doggie. I just wanted to illustrate to dear Kami that sometimes there is something very nice behind a closed door (windows of course are a different story). Extra points for whoever can name the puppy and identify what # door he was found behind!

In the long-standing tradition of how even bad movies can have trailers that scare the crap out of kids…

During the Bigfoot craze of the '70s, a docu-drama was released in 1977 called SASQUATCH: THE LEGEND OF BIGFOOT. I never saw the film as a kid, but a scene at the end of the trailer stuck in my mind for the rest of my childhood. I couldn't find the trailer online (it was removed from YouTube), but the scene I remember is in the actual film. Check out the intro to SASQUATCH below, and jump to the 1:40 mark:

The freeze-frame on the monstrous silhouette…that howling cry…the zoom of the title…somebody hold me…I'm so cold…

As a kid, I had nightmares of that shadow appearing at the top my attic stairs so many times; I swore that before I rediscovered this footage, I thought Bigfoot was in a stairwell in this scene, not in the woods.

For those who want to see this supposedly sub-par film, it's available on YouTube starting HERE

UNK SEZ: I remember this one! I'll never forget the image of Bigfoot standing on a hill and throwing rocks down at people, and at the time, I had no problem believing that the whole thing was real. By the way FilmFather, you've really opened up a can of hairy worms over here at Kindertrauma Castle, we are now fully engulfed in Bigfoot mania as you will soon see. Bigfoot movies and especially the G-rated faux documentary types like this one, and my personal favorite THE LEGEND OF BOGGY CREEK, really capture a specific time that is sorely missed. I used to be very impressed with Bigfoot, now it seems that he only does broad comedy and prefers parts were he plays a buffoon. He's like the JOHN C. REILLY of the cryptozoology set! Well, it's about time he's remembered as the true traumatizer that he was born to be! Stay tuned!

P.S.: For more of our kinderpal Eric (who recently reviewed the awesome GRIZZLY!) go stop by his neck of the woods @ FilmFather!

I was a pretty skittish kid, as my previous traumafession about a book cover should attest to. It didn't take a lot to give me nightmares and horror movies terrified me. However, this fear eventually developed into a morbid curiosity and I decided to watch some of these movies. After seeing THE OMEN and a few others, I was hooked and became the horror nut I am today.

You wouldn't expect much to get to me after the seriously creepy OMEN, but sometimes kindertrauma comes from unexpected places. I was staying over with a friend of mine for the first time, this was during the early to mid-nineties and I was probably seven or eight. During the summers, the Sci-Fi Channel would show themed movie marathons every night. That night the marathon was the first three PUPPET MASTER movies. I didn't really want to watch them because the idea of killer toys really freaked me out at the time, and still does to a certain extent. But my friend insisted and I didn't want to be a stick in the mud, so a bowl of popcorn was popped, the lights were dimmed, and we sat down to enjoy the show.

I actually really enjoyed the movies, plausibly because most of the really nasty gore was edited out for television or because all of PUPPET MASTER movies have kind of a non-threatening comic book tone about them. Either way, I got through all three with nary a problem. Or so I thought.

That night, when I finally went to sleep, I had a nightmare involving those pesky puppets. I don't remember much beyond two of the little critters, the bladed-hand, KLAUS KINSKI-type and the one with a drill for a head, chasing me up the stairs of my home. And, since this was a nightmare, I couldn't run and could only slowly stumble up the stairs. Naturally, I woke up in a cold sweat just as the malevolent marionettes were about to close in on me. I didn't sleep for the rest of the night. I didn't want to risk the teasing I would have gotten if I woke my friend up, so I had to fake sleeping for the reminder of the night. I remember jumping at every odd noise or shadow.

I figured the bad dream was just because I was anxious about my first sleepover. But, nope, because later that year, during Christmas break, when I ended up watching another one of the series entries, I had the same damn dream. Except it was Christmas time, which made the whole thing even eerier. Obviously CHARLES BAND's creations had spooked me on a subconscious level. Needless to say (but I'll say it anyway), I swore the franchise off for years. Until recently, when I bought the box set on a whim and all the memories came flooding back. I've been enjoying the movies, am excited about the recently announced new sequel, and haven't had any nightmares.

Yet.

UNK SEZ: ZACK, Thanks for bringing up PUPPET MASTER. I'm always amazed by the loyalty that series inspires. Some folks are just mad about those films and know every little minutia of detail about it's timelines and characters. Who would have thought after the first film that this whole little mini-universe would be created and with such a loyal following? It's also funny you should mention the puppet Blade's resemblance to KLAUS KINSKI, original PUPPETMASTER Director DAVID SCHMOELLER worked with KINSKI on the 1986 movie CRAWLSPACE. Apparently the two did not get along as well as KINSKI and often collaborator WERNER HERZOG ,for where HERZOG made a documentary about his relationship with KLAUS entitled MY BEST FIEND, SCHMOELLER'S nine minute doc on the same subject matter is entitled PLEASE KILL MR. KINSKI!

To read more by Zack, be sure to check his blog Film Thoughts.

I would like to tell you about my first real introduction to the world of horror movies.

Up until this point in my life I had just heard whispers of these kinds of movies out on the playground. My friend Carla had an older brother who had tricked her into watching a movie called CARRIE on television with a promise that there would be cartoons afterwards. The next day she was traumatized… she told me all about the movie, blow by blow… I was shivering right there underneath the jungle gym just hearing about it. I had never seen a real horror movie (besides a Bigfoot documentary that gave me nightmares (but that's another story).

It was about 1980, I was in the 3rd grade. My mom and me were hanging out in the living room one sunny afternoon listening to some K-tel albums. After the 'Star Point' record was over we decided to turn on the TV, boy was I in for a surprise.

The show SISKEL & EBERT SNEAK PREVIEWS was on and they happened to be doing an entire segment on Slasher movies and Scream Queens… I was intrigued… I was scared out of my mind; I would never be the same.

I vividly remember being frozen with fear watching the scene from FRIDAY THE 13TH where a hitchhiking woman is chased through the woods and murdered against a tree with a hunting knife… this was then followed like a one-two punch by JAMIE LEE CURTIS shrieking inside a closet being stalked by the 'Shape in HALLOWEEN… oh my God that music was so horribly scary!! (But cool)… my little mind could not comprehend why they would make movies to scare people!

Even though I was terrified, my interest in horror was definitely piqued! Ever since that day I have officially been a devout horror movie junkie.

UNK SEZ: Tony, my brother from another mother, my introduction to HALLOWEEN and consequently real horror fanaticism was also via Siskel and Ebert (or as my friend Maggie called them, Pork and Beans). Ironically, as much as they were opposed to a lot of the slasher films of that time, I'd tune in just to watch the clips that they would show of them. They inadvertently turned me on to THE EVIL DEAD as well, which I remember them giving a negative review to. Strange that two people with such different views as my own could be such a big influence on my life and so many others. They'll both always get two big thumbs up from me, regardless of their sometimes questionable taste!

As I was on my daily trip to KinderTruama, my wife happened to be in the room and asked me about "the guy with no skin" who really disturbed her as a kid. Of course she meant the trauma-causing Slim Goodbody, a topic that I knew that was covered HERE. So I search for good-ole afro-creep and there he was, in all his skin-tight, package-revealing wonder. As we watched the clip KinderTrauma so kindly offered up, a new memory surfaced, like a bloated body wrest free from its weights… THE VISIBLE MAN.

via flickr

I can't remember the order of events, but I know that I owned a VISIBLE MAN when I was a kid. I know that I had touched all the bones, the vital organs and saw the veins and arteries. I also know that it creeped me out.

Back in maybe 4th or 5th grade I did a report on the digestive system and I can't remember if I bought THE VISIBLE MAN for this project or I just happened to have him lying around because I needed more nightmares. Well, I pulled the whole digestive tract from poor Mr. Man and glued it to some poster board, wrote some things about the organs (and of course giggled about the anus) and gave my presentation to the class.

I have no idea what my grade was for this project, but I do know that just looking a picture of THE VISIBLE MAN now makes me feel a little funny inside.

Aunt John SEZ: We are in for a special treat today kids, as the proverbial traumafession lightening strikes twice at Kindertrauma Castle. Please give a warm Kindertrauma welcome to readers Patrick and Alexis as they separately recall the creep-tastic introduction to WPIX's Chiller Theater…

Reader Patrick SEZ:

It wasn't a specific movie that terrified me as a little kid, but the intro to scary movie night on WPIX Channel 11 in New York. In the '70s, on certain nights of the week at 11 pm, they would run the following bumper to introduce the flick:

Being 5 or 6 years old, I'd see that hand rise from the ground and hear that eerie music and run screaming from the room. Of course, there was no getting to sleep after that. I didn't even need to see the movie — the 20-second clip was enough to keep me awake and shaking!

Reader Alexis SEZ:

When I was somewhere between four and six there was a local channel in New York that played cheesy movies on weekend afternoons. There were karate flicks and westerns, and of course, old "B" horror movies. Whenever they played one of these films, it was presented by what the station called "Chiller Theater." It really didn't matter if whatever movie they were playing was scary or not, because, if it was Chiller, you were gonna be freaked out one way or another.

The reason for Chiller Theater's success rate was their graphic introduction, which was also used for going to commercial breaks (and, believe me, familiarity never took away from its effectiveness.) The segment was of a six-fingered hand coming out of the ground that, eventually, munched on the Chiller logo. You kinda just have to see it. And hear it. That's most important. Trust me, the sound effects are enough on their own. Seeing it again, I thought it might not have the same effect on me, but alas, I was dead wrong. It still creeped me out big time.

So thanks again, Kindertrauma, for helping me realize I might not be quite as desensitized as I thought. Keep up the good work!

BUNNY LAKE IS MISSING, with SIR LAURENCE OLIVIER.

That movie still haunts me. Disappearing little girl. That creepy antique doll shop owner. Burning the dolls. And when they finally find him with the little girl in the playground at dark.

I have to go before I throw up.

UNK SEZ: Artic1111, thanks for bringing up a film that's not talked about nearly enough! What a great, ahead of it's time thriller, and who can beat that cast? Besides SIR LAURENCE OLIVIER, you've got CAROL LYNLEY (THE SHUTTERED ROOM) and KEIR DULLEA (BLACK CHRISTMAS) on board as well. I threw up some shots of that creeped-out doll shop, but as for the ending, it's best we keep those who have not seen it yet in the dark…

Well, I guess it's time I get this out and over with.

I was raised to whisper these kinds of things to a priest behind a one-way wicker viewer, but since I dropped my faith, I now seek penance at the knees of Uncle Lancifer and Aunt John.

I have been a mama's boy my whole life, but I think that was set in stone the day my parents took me to see PETE'S DRAGON. Others may trace their fear of backwoods people back to THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE, DELIVERANCE, GOD'S LITTLE ACRE, etc., but mine began with the appearance of the Gogans in PETE'S DRAGON.

Forgive me for not remembering the scene so accurately (after all, it was traumatic… I've tried to block it), but there is a moment in the film where the hillbilly Gogans are hunting for the runaway Pete with their clubs and sticks. It made me beg my mother to take me out to the lobby. I refused to go back in, so I'm sure we just sat on a bench and she held my head to her while I waited for my sisters and father to finish watching the movie.

It was the Gogans' dirty faces, nasty teeth, filthy hats, and redneck noses that scared me so. Oh, and their voices. These were people that sounded like animals. I'd never seen such scummy looking humans before in my life.

UNK SEZ: Fox, I just reacquainted myself with those hillbilly Gogans and their non-smash hit "The Happiest Home in These Hills." All I can say is, you are correct, those folks are grade "A" trash. For a moment I thought I was watching a documentary on my pre-Aunt John dating history (which, full disclosure, does include SHELLEY WINTERS!). In the life imitates sub-art category: one of those flea-bitten, urine-stained, good-for-nothing foaming at the mouth louses one day grew up to be T.V.'s JEFF CONWAY!

P.S. : The ALWAYS sly "Fox" has got a swinging pad of his own a couple doors down that ya'll should swing by called TRACTOR FACTS!!!!

DISCLAIMER: Before I start, I really feel the need to ask that you don't include any pictures if you choose to put this traumafession on your website. Unlike my previous entries, this particular trauma was, in fact, so traumatizing that any picture from the trauma inducer in question leads me into a mild panic attack. I've got no problem if you post a link to the youtube video at the bottom of the page, but please keep this entry free of visuals. Again, please do not post any pictures/videos of the front page from this, I really, honestly have a mild panic attack from anything associated with the whole ordeal. Thank you for understanding.

I was no more than nine years old when my life was forever changed (O.K., a bit dramatic, but it had a lasting effect on me none the less). I was at a sleepover at my dear friend Anna's house and she had recently discovered "This really funny cartoon!" The cartoon in question was none other than HAPPY TREE FRIENDS. Now, I'm sure that most of you have heard of this little gem. Those of you calling me a sissy probably saw this later on in life than those of you who are now curled up in a ball under your desk. Either way, the whole thing screams TRAUMA!

Well, the particular episode that I viewed at the tender age of nine was entitled "Flippin' Burgers." The site was colorful, and filled with pics of cute little cartoon animals. Now, my friends and I often got our kicks from laughing at stupid little kid shows (usually the ones found on Nick JR that were so happy and pointless that it amused our nine-year-old minds). I assumed that this was a similar case, but damn was I wrong.

Before the episode, there was a loading screen. There was a claw machine full of cute little cartoon animals. The claw picked up one and slammed it against the side, causing it to become bruised and bloody. That made me a bit nervous, but I laughed it off.

The episode opened with a little pink rodent like critter and a yellow bunny eating at a McDonald's style joint. The rabbit accidentally squirts ketchup on the pink rodent, and both of them giggle in a stupid/sickeningly cute way. And then the whole thing takes a hard left turn. A little green rodent dressed like a War Vet sees the ketchup and has a flashback of little dieing rodent children from the war. He goes apeshit and starts killing everybody.

First he runs up to the bunny and stabs it through the jugular with a straw. In an attempt to get the blood back into his body, the bunny starts drinking the blood, which is coming out of the straw, passing out/dieing. At this point I was pretending to laugh, but feeling a bit ill. The green rodent then moves on to the little pink one, coming up behind it and jamming a ketchup bottle in one ear and a mustard bottle in the other, squeezing them until they come out her nose (I may be mistaken, but I believe that her eyes popped out and the condiments came from them too).

Then came the grand kill. A cute little skunk was in the kitchen flipping burgers over a Sponge Bob style grill. The green rodent slammed the skunkie's face onto the grill. I assumed that the worst was over, and so laughed at that kill to please my friend. But oh no, the initial face slamming was just the start. The green dude pulls the skunk's face back up at the camera. The skunk is screaming in pain, one of its eyes is squinted shut and the other is left behind on the stove with a bunch of her burning facial flesh. Its face is burnt up and disgusting.

I started sobbing at that point, and my friend turned to comfort me. However, she forgot to turn off the cartoon. A father bear and a baby bear are entering a car. The fast food place explodes behind them, and they go up in flames/are crushed by falling debris. Another critter is killed by a falling sign, and more are burned alive, screaming in pain, pure terror on their cute little cartoon faces.

At the end, the green rodent takes a French fry, dips it in the bunny's blood, and eats it contently.

Later that night, I had my Mom pick me up, too upset/in shock from the cartoon to want to play Barbies as was the plan. Before I left, my friend begged me not to tell about the cartoon, afraid that my Mom would tell her Mom and put the squash on it. And so, true to my word, I didn't tell my Mom until a full month later, after a month of sulking around feeling sick and bursting into tears whenever I saw a squirrel/a cartoon/a person eating a burger. I refused to go to fast food places, and wouldn't eat French fries.

About six months later, I saw it in a Hollywood Video (I believe it was a boxed set). From then on, I refused to walk into that store, knowing that the dreaded box with the smiling green rodent would be ready to stare me down as soon as I walked through the door. It wasn't until last year, at fourteen years old, that I managed to walk in (eyes shut), rent saw 3 (ironic, right?), and walk back out of the store. HAPPY TREE FRIENDS will forever be burned in my mind as one of the most traumatizing things I've ever watched (Coming from a girl who watched MEET THE FEEBLES at age 6.)

AUNT JOHN METHUSELAH SEZ: Carolyanne, not only is yours the first TRAUMAFESSION to come with a non-graphic clause, it also the first to make your Aunt John feel ancient. You're 14? Really? Is it hot in here or did you just send me into pre-mature menopause? I was well into my (cough) thirties when I first encountered the HAPPY TREE FRIENDS via a creepy janitor that worked in my office. He was really into the psychotic critters and forced me to watch them while he stood a little too close to me mouthing all of the words. I was more traumatized by the personal space violation than the candy-colored ultra-violence unfolding on the screen. Anywhoozles, please excuse your dear old Aunt John while I bum a handful of Geritols and a cup of Activia off of JAMIE LEE CURTIS… in the meantime, everyone (except for you, Carolyanne) should check-out FLIPPIN' BURGERS.