“Legend has it that it was written by the dark one. Necronomicon Ex Mortis, roughly translated, The Book of the Dead. The book served as a passageway for the evil world beyond. It was written long ago when the seas ran red with blood. It was this blood that was used to ink the book. In the year 1300 AD the book disappeared.” – Evil Dead II
When watching The Evil Dead recently, it occurred to me that I was a massive idiot. For someone so arrogant and handsome, that was quite a realisation. I have always felt that the film, and it’s awesome as awesome can be sequel Evil Dead II*, occurred in a dreadful place, given what was happening.
But now I realise that, all things considered, it was probably for the best that only a few people in an isolated area were affected by the reading of the Necronomicon. Otherwise, it might have impacted on my day.
Seriously, thank God they were in a cabin in the woods. What if they’d been in a heavily populated area? It would have been like, er, well the Evil Dead III, but not in the past?
Well, anyway, here this is…
Look, I don’t know what you’re even doing in an orphanage to begin with, but apparently you’re there and you’ve been asked to read the kids a bed time story. Maybe you’re doing a good deed or you’ve been forced into some kind of community service (which, knowing you, seems more likely). I don’t know. But that’s the situation you’ve found yourself in.
You look at their bookcase and you scan the selection. It’s not good. Morality tales with pleasant illustrations of humanised animals? Pfft. Boring. There are Harry Potter books, but you’re awesome, so you’ve already read those. Presumably it was something to do with Harry Potter books and motorcycles that landed you this community service to begin with.
Then you spy it on the bottom shelf. A leathery-covered affair that seems to be willing you to open its pages and translate it’s text for a sleepy young audience. Don’t do it!
I know that it might sound like unleashing the forces of evil undead spirits on an orphanage would be unimaginably cowabunga. However, just consider that this isn’t a film. You would find yourself tormented by a mob of warped, bloodthirsty children. They would kill you very, very dead.
The worst part about your being dead? You just came up with the most incredible film title, ‘Zombie Orphans Must Be Beheaded!’, but were torn limb from limb before you had the chance to tell anyone.
Just never read anything aloud in a cinema. It’s very rude.
Plus, if you’ve ever complained about talking in a cinema, loud popcorn crunching or smelly snack eating, then you have to know how irritating it would be if someone unleashed an evil force during a film. It’s bad enough when the person in front of you is tall. When they’re tossing their disembodied head up and down while cackling manically, that’d be a major annoyance.
With 3D films being so very ruddy popular at the moment, it might even be difficult to spot this having happened.
Picture the scene, if you will. You’re watching Clash Of The Titans with your 3D specs on and you can kind of see all sorts of things wobbling out of the screen at you. Oh look, there’s Medusa, and it seems she’s just inches away from your face. Well, that’s the nice lady who sold you your ticket earlier, and she’s about to tear your throat out and repaint the walls with your blood.
It doesn’t take a genius to work this one out. The deer head on the wall coming to life was one of the freakiest parts of Evil Dead II. Now imagine that it’s not a deer head, but a variety of animals of varying sizes and levels of blood-thirstiness. Now imagine that they’ve all flipped out and escaped their cages. Now imagine that they’re working together to help a rascally evil version of yourself kill you in a horribly painful and unnecessarily messy way. Now stop imagining. You’re going to give yourself nightmares.
To be honest, I question why you would even consider reading it aloud in a zoo to begin with. What were you thinking? The best case scenario seems to be that the next day the newspaper headlines would read ‘Demon possesses gorilla. Idiot responsible mashed like a potato! Pictures inside!’
The Platinum Dunes production office
This is probably the most tempting entry on the list, and I have included it here more as a warning to anyone who may have bungled across The Book of the Dead that might, quite reasonably, be considering taking out Platinum Dunes. Presumably you sat through the Nightmare On Elm Street remake, so it’s only fair that you take a very violent revenge.
However, there are a couple of things to consider here. Throughout the Evil Dead films, those possessed make several allusions to consuming a person’s soul. In the case of Platinum Dunes, never has a threat seemed so empty. It would be like threatening to eat my research. You’re going to go hungry.
Another problem is that the evil forces unleashed by the Necronomicon clearly enjoy tormenting people. There’s no way that they wouldn’t sense that the greatest way to torment people is to leave Platinum Dunes to continue their work. Perhaps they’d join forces. Either way, it seems inevitable that the outcome of opening a gateway to another existence that is filled with hate and pain would lead to Platinum Dunes remaking The Evil Dead.
So, please, we’re all upset, but this isn’t the answer.
This is, I think, a worst case scenario. Just like the film, only on a scale so large that my bowels are twitching as I think of it. I’ve not lost complete control of them, but they’re twitching. It’s disconcerting.
Think of the carnage caused in these films. There’s no need for me to go into the specifics on why such a huge mixture of people and greenery would become very brutal very quickly.
Rather, though, I want you to consider whether we want an Evil Dead experience that, were it to become a film, would cost so many millions of dollars to produce. Much of the trilogy’s charm lies in it being low budget and fictional. Take those elements away and you’re left with a situation that could prove to be an entertainment disaster on the scale of Roland Emmerich’s Godzilla, with the unfortunate addition of thousands of casualties. Don’t do it, kids.
The Den Of Geek offices
There’s a huge discrepancy between what most people think the Den Of Geek offices are and what they actually are. Most people seem to believe we all sit around on colourful beanbags in a nu-media loft space lined with wall-to-wall Apple Macs, while we drink tasteless, futuristic coffee drinks that have ridiculous names that are humiliating to say, and talk about exciting new moustaches we’re thinking of trying. This could not be further from the truth.
Less an office space than a series of shacks located on barely inhabitable swamp land, DoG central is a terrifying and highly demonic place. At any given time, you can rely on at least six different satanic rituals taking place. As a result of one particularly successful afternoons work, one the site’s writers now has the head of a goat. Much of the site’s pre-Oscar coverage came courtesy of an Ouija board. Our water coolers are filled with the blood of virgins and our corridors are decorated with a selection of flattering portraits of Anton LaVey. Very occasionally, one of us will fart out a poisonous spider. We’re creepy.
So, why would it be a dreadful idea to read the Necronomicon aloud here? Because it would be heartbreaking to see such a strong, vibrant force of evil reduced to a quivering, tearful wreck in the face of a stronger, more potent evil. It would be forced to retreat from our dark cloud of hateful energy at such a speed that even Sam Raimi on a bike would struggle to keep up. In fact, I think we’ve read it here before on a particularly slow Tuesday afternoon. Nothing happened.
On the tube
So, you’ve just got yourself a brand new Kindle and are thinking of reading from it aloud for the enjoyment of the entire train carriage during rush hour. That’s just how you are. You’re the kind of person who wants to share the benefits of your lifestyle. While most people will be thrilled to hear a passage of Bridget Jones or Jordan: Bust of an Angel, if you happen to have downloaded The Book of the Dead, I’d suggest you exercise some restraint.
Crowded trains are horrific enough without unleashing a demonic force from an evil world upon them. Commuters are so discourteous and bastardly to one another, it may take a while to notice that they’ve changed at all.
However, with so many newly converted deadites incubating below the London, when they do finally converge it would mean the end of the city. Exciting? Yes, but ultimately it would prove hugely inconvenient for anyone with plans to travel, or those who had hopes of not becoming a member of the evil dead.
So, if you could all just not do this, I’d appreciate it ever so much.
*Army of Darkness is no less awesome. It just takes place in a different location.
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