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Someday, I will watch horror movies again.

On the shelf next to the big TV down in the basement den—the TV that is hooked up to the really nice surround sound system that hardly ever get used because 99% of what gets watched in this house is Captain Underpants and shows that have LEGO mini-figs as the main characters—are a whole bunch of blu-rays of really great horror movies. The Haunting. The Shining. The first three Romero Living Dead movies. John Carpenter’s Apocalypse trilogy plus The Fog. The first two Hellraiser movies, before the series descended into forgettable direct-to-DVD mediocrity. Phantasm and Phantasm 2. The list goes on.

I used to watch them a lot, especially in the days leading up to Halloween. Then I had kids. These days, I barely watch movies at all, and on the rare occasion that I do sit down to watch a movie, it is never a horror movie.

Last night, Halloween night, and I found myself thinking that I should watch a horror movie. This thought has occurred to me the last few years on Halloween night. Sure, I’m tired, I tell myself, and if I stay up late, I will regret it at five tomorrow morning when it is time to get up, make the kids' lunches, head out for my run, and get ready for work. But it’s Halloween! It’s the perfect night for watching horror movies.

And, as usual, I then shelved the idea and headed to bed at 9:15.

If I had decided to stay up, though, I probably would have gone with Prince Of Darkness. While it drags a bit through the middle section when the Evil Green Goo is zombifying various members of the team, I like the high-concept horror and the pervading sense of doom and dread that pervades the film.

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