It’s Friday the 13th today. A day folklore suggests one might endure poor fortune, along with chance of bumping into a hockey mask wearing Jason Voorhees and his chainsaw, Frank. Episodes of bad luck which, if old wife’s tale bear a shred of truth, can be warded off by carrying around a rabbit’s foot or a horseshoe… Although, I’d suggest a rabbit’s foot would provide scant protection against Jason’s chainsaw.
Incidentally, his chainsaw wasn’t called Frank, That would be absolutely ridiculous… It was named Bernard.
For these relying on horseshoes as protection from misfortune, I’d recommend using a shoe not attached to the horse. I’m guessing here, but I suspect Neddy won’t be overly enamoured with his footwear being recklessly jemmying the item from his hoof. The subsequent collateral injury suffered from the nag kicking out ensuring your Friday 13th will indeed involve poor fortune.
Jason Voorhees was the man who propelled the ice hockey mask and chainsaw into must have fashion accessories for the 1980’s loner with attachment issues. A style which when adorned ensured a swift departure from cold callers and a guaranteed seat on the bus.
Personally, I never embraced the chainsaw/mask combo made famous by the psychotic, but fundamentally misunderstood, young lad. I can honestly vouch there’s never been a time in my life where I’ve required an ice hockey mask or chainsaw, even in isolation.
Anyway, that look is so 1980’s now. In contemporary times, I’d imagine no self-respecting serial killer would be seen dead (that’ll be their victims) in such sartorially fragmented garb. These days a Donald Trump onesie and a red MAGA hat is the go-to garb for socially awkward 25-year-old virgins.
In these more woke times an updated version of the Friday 13th may well veer from the bloodthirsty gore of chainsaw slaughter. The current movie plot zeitgeist, utilising a less macabre form of murder.
For instance, a homicidal plan seeing the victim’s internet access blocked; while distracted during a WIFI hub reboot, the killer cable ties the casualty, abducts them, prior to torture by watching back-to-back episodes of Love Island. Finishing them off with death by skin asphyxiation caused by creosote spray tan.
Whether that method of serial killing would make good cinema only time will tell. I’ve tried to sell the screenplay to Warner Brothers. Peddling it as a story portraying the life of a kinder, more sensitive, mass-murderer named Vason Joorhees. A fella who kindly gave away all his millions to charities – Apart from a few quid he kept back to cover creosote costs.
Joorhees a serial slaughterer who has the capacity to display humanity; sadly, though, he’s a tendency to flip into his evil alter-ego when perceiving he’s been wronged. Triggers including people misspelling his name on parking tickets, or indeed receiving a parking ticket even if his name is spelt correctly…….. As you’ve probably gathered, he has a thing about parking tickets!!
For the victims of the ‘kindly killer’, despite less bloodshed and physical pain than Voorhees’ murder targets, being killed is being killed. Consequently, I’d suggest the mental trama would remain the same. There would, though, be the small recompense of looking healthier in the coffin if death was administered by creosote spray tan compared to slaughter by chainsaw.
Hopefully, I will survive Friday 13th without any discernible misfortune. I don’t like tempting fate, but thus far the worst thing to happen thus far has been slightly overcooking some oven chips. If truth be told, though, I try not to dwell on my exposure to paraskevidekatriaphobic incidents.
Footnote – For the uninitiated, paraskevidekatriaphobic is an affliction borne by individuals apprehensive of becoming victim of misfortune on any Friday 13th. Emotional support for this anxiety is available from the splendidly named Paraskevidekatriaphobic Anxiety, Nattering & Indecision Committee (PANIC). A group whose club motif bears a Jason Voorhees hockey mask crossed by two chainsaws.
I’ve never been one to pay much mind to superstitions passed down through folklore. From a personal perspective, I’ve managed to unearth misfortune easily enough on many day/date combinations.
My branch of the Strachan clan bearing the coat of arms motto ‘13 Quare adversus Veneris usque ad atrium opem?‘. Which translates from Latin to English as ‘Why wait for Friday 13th to court calamity?‘.
From my lifetime experiences, these adages passed through folklore are at best pretty sketchy accuracy wise. At their worst, they’re old wife’s advocacies bearing little, if any, basis in fact.
I do, though, mischievously make up parody adages for Friday 13th. Absurd advocacies which I pitch with tongue firmly in cheek, such as
“If you see a sparrow after 6pm, you’ll suffer from earache for three days/nights!”;
“If you see a robin red breast after 6pm, you’ll suffer from a sore throat for three day/nights!“; and
“For the sake of your health don’t go bird-watching after 6pm. Seek a more interesting evening pastime!“
Quite clearly, that trio of old wife’s tales don’t exist… Well as far as I’m aware, anyhow!… I’ll avoid bird-watching after 6pm this evening just to be on the safe side!
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