Oh god, I had to review this back when I was writing movie reviews. It's giving me PTSD......
Is there anyplace one might be able to read that?
Nah....the site that published it (it used to be a website with a lot of surprising studio backing and such) is no longer around, although I might be able to find the original text (this was, like, 12-15 years ago).
The review was nothing special. The editors at the time (it was a brother and sister team with some other people out of Chicago who wanted to eventually get into publishing books) wanted us to avoid doing anything spectacularly negative just so we wouldn't lose any distributor support, so my review of this was basically "I guess this movie is OK if you actually believe in this stuff, but I don't so there you go." put very nicely.
Fairies will fuck you up! Love, love, love this doco.
Previously submitted in parts here. Nice to have a complete version.
|Born in the RSR |
I spent hours arguing with a friend in high-school that weasels don't sneak into the stables and braid horses' manes during the night, that it's just a stupid superstition/urban myth(rural myth?).
Apparently we were both wrong, it was the fairies what done it.
Born in the RSR
This is a legit Romanian thing by the way, weasels braiding horse manes. Don't ask me why. It's up there with quicksilver and the evil eye.
Hey, maybe you can settle this for me. Is it true that horse people are all batshit crazy? I've heard that more than once but I've never known any myself. I've heard they're crazier than those people who make their dogs compete in obstacle courses.
I know a few horse people (my aunt is a horse person, and she associates with many other horse people), and all of the ones I know are crazy. I don't have any hard data or statistical evidence to show precisely what percentage of horse people are batshit crazy, but anecdotally, I can tell you that yes, many, if not all, are quite insane.
My theory is that, because horses are expensive to maintain, and fairly impractical to own, people who gravitate towards such animals tend to be A) rich, B) women, and C) extremely bored/ frustrated. It isn't hard to imagine why bored rich women have a tendency to turn neurotic.
With that said, if *I* were a fairy, I would definitely like to braid Fluttershy's mane.
They make good neighbors for the most part, no loud parties or gunfire or quad bike racing. But the received wisdom is true: crazy as bedbugs. Consider the following...
For starters, horses don't walk or gallop much. Instead, they drive around. Alot. All over. In enormous RV sized vehicles. So all these horses come driving in to the neighbors' lot, and they all are promptly corralled into a tiny ring in the backyard. There follows a great deal of yakking back and forth between the monkeys about using legs and praising of the animals, puntuated by the occasional grunt of recalcitrance from the beasts themselves. Horses walk forwards. Sometimes to the left or right. Occassionally backwards. There are props of various sorts. Mailboxs. Those horrible arbor vitae in pots. A forlorn hunk of picket fence. These are arranged and rearranged with the passion Pink Floyd had for displaying their instruments on album covers. Towards what end, who can say? All this goes on for a few hours, then silence.
It must be said, if you can see past all the monkey shines, the horses themselves are magnificent beasts and it's easy to see why people like them. I feel like a goddamned Kentucky Colonel sitting on my front porch when they cruise by in the pasture opposite my place. The part that baffles me is why they don't take the animals out to any of the parks or forested areas and _ride them around_ ! You could cover a lot of trail on horseback, daytrips to some exotic locales become feasible. And it's a stylish way to get around. But instead they are marched around in little circles. But mostly, drive.
>>the horses themselves are magnificent beasts and it's easy to see why people like them
If by magnificent, you mean horrid, evil monsters, and by like them you mean loathe them, then yes! I agree.
Don't be fooled by the amiable countenance that you see from afar, Mr Wildcat; horses are smelly, terrifying beasts.
The scars that never heal, huh Homestar? Share with us your horrible childhood trama of well heeled east coast hippies and riding lessons. Flesh out that character, Holden Caufield!
I already told you guys this. My aunt, the horse person, used to keep a horse in our garage. The horse's name was Knifey (I shit you not, *Knifey*). One night, Knifey got agitated about something, kicked down a wall, and broke my grandma's leg. You try being four years old and watching as a midnight-black mare named Knifey busts through your wall and attacks your grandma.
I think that's what first got me terrified of horses, but objectively speaking, they're not nice animals. They smell weird, they make evil noises, and if you've ever looked one in the eyes, it's like staring into the Abyss - cold, dark, dead. I never took riding lessons myself, but I did go to a lot of East Coast yuppie riding shows when I was a preschooler, and I tell you, stables full of horses? Huge, cavernous, pitch dark buildings, full of sand and leather and rusty metal tools, where all the horses are snorting and sweating and staring at you sideways with their black FUCKING eyes - oh my god, it's horrible.
On a side note, my aunt also believes in fairies. I don't know if fairies had anything to do with Knifey rampaging through our house, but I cannot rule it out as a possibility.
Well that would go a long ways towards explaining your sexual obsession with My Little Pony. (grin).
But seriously, it's a good story, sorry I missed it.
Please stop laughing at my mom. :(
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