I saw the sickest thing on House last night and I can't stop thinking about it. It was so gross and I hate it. The episode started with a scene on a slave ship from the olden days where everyone has small pox so they sink the ship to contain it. Flash to present day when some scuba divers find an old jar full of these blackish brownish jagged things. I was horrified. Are those big germs in the jar? I wondered. Fossilized germs? What could it be! It's hundreds of years old--what is it? "It looks like feathers," the divers said. Sick. Guess what it was? Scabs. The do-it-yourself-immunizations of the 1700s. Gag. I am seriously gagging right now and trying to stop myself.
I know they weren't real 300-year-old scabs. But that is almost more troubling to me--that a prop designer would conceive of really old preserved scabs as jagged and feathery. What kind of mind would think of that? It's Stephen-King quality and I am slightly impressed but mostly repulsed by it. I deleted it from TIVO immediately because I knew I would be tempted to look at it and pause it and contemplate it. Christian didn't even watch it yet but I had to get rid of it. (He's not that into House this season anyway.) I'm glad I deleted it. The episode also made reference to "viral shedding" which is a concept that also disturbs me and makes me sick. I hate it when things slough off, infect, expel, extrude, or bud. Ohhhh, more gags. It's like barnacles. Or Freaky Sick Crapola.
I recently discovered something else that disturbs me deeply: Late-night freeway construction. I've encountered it a few times in the last couple of weeks and I was surprised at how strongly it freaked my out. I really hate the apocalyptic industrialization of it. What else is going on while I'm asleep? It's so organized and well-lit. What if someone evil were in charge? Just think of what they could do during the wee hours. Road construction during the day just seems lazy and inconvenient. It's different at night. It's like someone or something is mobilizing. It creeps me out.
And now you know a fraction of my torment.