For the past two weeks I've been fighting off a wicked ear infection, which has resulted in a number of lifestyle changes. One, no phone calls, because I can't really hear, and I only have a small number of friends willing to be yelled at about the weather. Two, no books, because for some reason, a shooting pain through one side of your head makes you incapable of focusing too long on the printed word. None of these changes are very evil, unless you consider the large number of books currently forming my headboard, waiting to be read. Three, no running or biking, with the whole throbbing-eardrum thing.

Also, I am home alone with one sick rabbit, three healthy, hyper rabbits and a TiVo. El Yo has run off to CA for a fun weekend at the Secret Monkey Hideout. So, in my altered state, all I can really do is lie in front of the magic box and let bad, bad movies roll over me. Luckily, my training as the future ruler of earth has equipped me well to deal with all the spectacularly awful things the Sci Fi channel has to offer. It's part of the training.

Cherry Falls (three and a half henchmen): A serial killer terrorizes a small town by killing off all the virgin teenagers, a fact that the sheriff announces with glee after exactly three have been offed. Why? Because he's exhorting parents to tell their teenagers to boink. I know--don't think about it. But the movie as a whole is ginchy--surprisingly watchable and fun, also by turns creepy, scary, funny, sweet, and in large part just plain wrong, which all horror movies should be.

They Live (two henchmen): The first 20 minutes of this movie suck balls, then it gets creepy and clever, and then the next hour continues to suck those same balls, which happen to be attached to former WWF-wrestler Rowdy Roddy Piper. See, the plot is that aliens have taken over the---wait, why bother? There is no plot. There's just Rowdy Roddy Piper enjoying the sight of himself on camera for two hours, minus 10 minutes of interesting bits in the middle. Aliens, special sunglasses, deep social commentary about the plight of the poor and homeless, and Rowdy Roddy Piper fighting off aliens with the force of his hockey hair alone. I fast-forwarded the last half hour, so maybe it's not as bad as I make out, but really we all know that it is. This movie is notable mainly for giving us the line: "I came here to chew bubblegum and kick ass. And I'm all out of gum."

Night of the Comet (two and a half henchmen): My eyes! Oh my eyes, oh noooooo! *gasp* Ok. After a comet kills or zombifies everyone on earth, the only survivors are two Valley Girls and the secret government conspiracy out to make serum from their blood, proving once and for all that the government is out to get you at all times, even if it really should be dealing with a zombie outbreak. Unfortunately, bad 80s music has not been annihilated along with the rest of the world, and it plays throughout the movie. It will not stop. Zombies shoot at the Valley Girls, bad 80s ballads play. They run round the mountain government hideyhole, bad 80s synth rocks out. People, the characters break into a radio station and dance around to what can only be described as a Miami-Vice-sunglasses-at-night bleeding rash. It will not stop. Best line: "You were born with an asshole, Doris, you don't need Chuck."

Route 666: (two henchmen). The opening credits are all about flashing people's names over one long scene of white lines on blacktop, going by, as if from a car, because that's the theme of the movie, see? Cars, roads, routes. And then the seizures these credits cause become an additional theme of the movie. We see Lori Petty and Lou Diamond Phillips kiss. Each other. Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. Worse than zombies, man. The desert's the best-looking star in the whole shebang.

Dagon: (one henchman). (Wait for it...) A village of fishpeople off the coast of Spain require human sacrifices for eternal fishperson life and are horrible housekeepers. Notable highlights include: an eeeeeeevil mermaid, the world's grossest hotel room, and the best twist ending evah. You can totally vacuum during the middle 45 minutes of this movie, which I summarize here: "Oh no, a fish person, help! Oh no, another one, I'll just ask this nice priest for hel--oh he's a fish person too! Hey, a hot babe. Hi hot ba--oh she's a fish! Oh no!" Also, the 18lb blonde heroine winds up hanging over a well as Dagon-bait ("But baby, it's a tasteful nude-bleeding-virgin-sacrifice scene. Your tits are *so* vital to the plot.") Trust me, this gives away nothing, plotwise. Titswise, yes. Plotwise, no.

The Lost Voyage: This is what happens when you have a cast full of B-listers, two sets, and forty thousand dollars marked "CGI-only". CGI rain, CGI helicopter, CGI boat, CGI Judd Nelson. I hope. Otherwise Mr Nelson has turned his back on the craft, and the world would just weep if that were true. Right? So I actually had to turn this movie off last night, because after 35 minutes of bad lighting and computer animation, the movie gets nine kinds of scary, and if you think I'm joking, Mrs Meringue, how would you react to a scene in which a character's dead mother pops out of bed screaming? I get that shit in my nightmares anyway, I don't need help. So I've held off on the official henchperson count until I can finish this sucker.

Not seen:

A Name for Evil: (zero henchmen, just a little pile of dust where they once stood). The name of evil is bad moviemaking. Zero plot, zero timing, zero interest. I turned it off after 20 minutes of the main character wandering around a forest trying to ignore the fact that he's either schizophrenic or has some type of ghost-on-horseback infestation, and that his wife's going to leave his crazy ass unless he comes out of that forest right this red hot minute, mister. So painful. Not worth finishing. A prime example of why 1973, polyester floral ties for men and a pound of cocaine is a lethal combination.

Coming up next time:

• Manhunter
• Day of the Dead
• Mystery of the Wax Museum
• The rest of Lost Voyage. Maybe. If the rabbits watch it with me.