Weasels Rip My Flesh (1979) - News Poster


How I Walked Beyond the World, and What I Saw There; Adam Mudman’s Best and Worst of 2011

Wow. 2011 ran up and hit and left a big mark on the face of the world. I’m still stinging a little, but I’m also analyzing the pain. It’s quite bad. It’s sore, it stings, and I think I’m bruised (though it didn’t break the skin). I think about why I have this pain, and I think…wow. Was I dumb enough to do that?

But then again, it’s not that bad. In some ways, it was a literal love tap. Actually, in a lot of ways it was a literal love tap. I feel the love, more than I feel the pain. And I can smile, pretty easy, and I think: wow. I really did all that.

I loved and hated a lot of what I watched this year. I’m going to share my greatest foes and my biggest crushes of the year with you.
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Vermillion Eyes (1991)


There’s nihilism, and there’s nihilism to the point where it’s not safe to be around the nihilist; when the deep black hole at the center of their mind is so possessing that you will be killed and eaten by whatever is trapped down there. There is no coincidence in the fact that nihilism and Nathan Schiff start with the same letter. In Schiff-World, there is no innocence; no purity. Faith is a worthless example of twisted moron thinking that will lead you into a gory death, where your body, even once your soul is pried free of it, is not exempt from defilation and mutilation. This is Vermillion Eyes, the bottom level of the Schiff “Trilogy”. Weasels Rip My Flesh was sci-fi madness. The Long Island Cannibal Massacre was a dark but fun slasher carnival. They Don’t Cut the Grass Anymore was a nightmarish descent into a sleazy,
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Make-Up Clusterfuck Time!

So, folks…I’ve been pretty lazy in my necessary duties as a staffer at the Liberal Dead. I don’t really pull my weight and even though I’m not doing this for pay or anything like that, I do feel consequences whenever I don’t pitch in. And it’s not because of my editors or anything—no, every single person at Liberal Dead is a great person who understands that I’m a busy man. I still feel like I have an obligation, however, to present my corner of weirdo horror cinema to you, the reader. As a result, it’s time for me to make it up to you. Simple sex won’t suffice. We’re going straight-out clusterfuck on this one. I present unto you as many reviews as I can do in one weekend, in one big, snappy package. I hope it’s enough.
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