Scary vs. scary might be a better title…

I have two measurements for scary. One is for things that are scary because they are, or can be, real. The other is for things that are scary, but not really scary because they aren’t real.

Exhibit one, the movie The Silence of the Lambs. It’s scary in that this could be real scary way. As in my neighbor could be that crazy guy who abducts people, keeps them in a hole in the basement, every once in a while yelling down the hole, “It puts the lotion on or gets the hose again.” You know? Not that I think any of my neighbors would be capable of something like that. Come to think of it, I don’t know my neighbors that well. No, they wouldn’t… Would they? Now every time I need to leave my house I’m going to stare out the peephole and make sure no one’s in the hall. Way to go me.

Now, the other scary. Exhibit two, the movie Alien. It’s way more fun on the scary meter because it’s not ever going to happen to me. Not ever. Not that being abducted and thrown in a hole would either. (I live in a condo, there are no basements so I’m thoroughly convinced the first scenario can’t happen. See what I did there.) I’m never going to work for a commercial space towing company. I’m not going to hurl through deep space in a machine induced sleep while a computer named Mother drives. I’m not going to wrestle aliens with acid spit. I’m not. I’m good with that. Really good with that.

Is it weird that I picked movies to illustrate my already weird point? No. I don’t think it is.

I’m pretty sure some of you out there are going to have good examples, so tell me you’re scary vs. scary.

Also, I leave you with this. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go cover every single mirror on the planet.