Observations From The Idiot Dimension

  In one of the more baffling chapters of post-Starfleet celebrity life, former USS Enterprise Captain Christopher Pike attempted to pivot from space exploration to pop sensation — a transition that, sadly, was not to be. After the tragic accident that left Pike confined to a life-support chair and able to communicate only through a binary system of beeps (one for “yes,” two for “no”), most assumed the heroic officer would quietly retire to a dignified life of reflection. Instead, Pike signed a recording contract with EMI and released his debut single: a haunting, minimalist reinterpretation of The Beatles’ “Help.” The single, credited to “Chris Pike (feat. The Beatles),” featured the Fab Four on instruments  while Pike contributed, quite literally a lonely electronic  beep . Some critics called it “avant-garde,” and “deeply moving". Others were clearly baffled, unable to connect with this oddity.  The music video, filmed entirely in black and white, showed Pike on ...

  There are films that terrify with blood, guts, and gore. There are films that haunt with ghosts, killers, or monsters. And then there is Night Bus to Cohuna (1972), an oddball entry in the Ozploitation canon whose horror doesn’t come from what lurks in the shadows, but from the relentless weight of boredom itself. Originally released in the novelty “Big Cohuna Vision” process — a half-baked hybrid of 3D projection and quadrophonic sound — this film’s sensory gimmicks were less about dazzling spectacle and more about amplifying tedium. In a perverse twist of marketing genius, the rattling of the bus engine was pumped into all four corners of the cinema. The audience felt every lurch of the suspension, every cough of the driver, every monotonous fly buzz reverberating in their skulls. The result was an endurance test. No air conditioning in the cinema mirrored the no air conditioning on-screen. The padded vinyl seats of the theatre grew sticky and unbearable, as though you too were...