My Facebook this morning reminded me of a dog I owned for about a month, Miss. OlaRay. Named for the female protagonist in Thriller. She was delightful but I couldn’t keep her as my terrier Hoagy was insanely jealous. My boyfriend at the time kept her and he had a big, black beard and I thought they made such a nice pair. Little white dog/Big black beard. I love contrast. Or opposites. Polarities. Could be why I had such an affinity for the Thriller video as a child.
My mother always told me that if there was ever a time she needed me to just pipe down and be quiet, the Thriller video worked every time. Not Care Bears or My Little Pony’s – but the undead haunting and chasing their innocent victim in pink. I ate it up.
Also, the greatest selling record of all time, by my favorite artist of all time. My tastes have been sealed since before I was born. And they are good.
In the spoken word ‘rap’ by Vincent Price in the Thriller song he talks about some heavy things… “And whosoever shall be found with the soul for getting down, must stand and face the hounds of Hell… And though you fight to stay alive your body starts to shiver, for no mere mortal can resist the evil of the Thriller.”
The song is largely written off as entertainment, fluff, pop- but as I have journeyed further down this rabbit hole of my reality and had what I can only describe as a mystical experience, the words took on a much realer, concrete meaning.
I lean so heavily on the Bible, because the Devil did actually come and ask who I serve. And when he did my body was shaking uncontrollably. I was already not well in mind and vulnerable, but this was my body reacting. It didn’t hurt but the shivering was intense. As I was on the ground, huddled in a ball, confused, a figure appeared that had the appearance of my father, but wasn’t him. He stood above me and asked “Who do you serve?” And my body bypassed my mind’s response which was “Are you kidding me?” And simply said, “Jesus.”
And poof. It stopped. The figure left. My body calmed. I was left alone with an experience I could not explain. It was too concrete to be written off as imagined delirium, as much as I would have liked. And the closest I found to an explanation came from a pop hit from the 80’s.
It should be noted that this is the man who wrote Thriller, not Michael. Mr. Rod Temperton is not what anyone would describe as angelic. This picture disturbs me. Reminds me a little too much of one of my step-fathers.
Not to end on a sour note, here is that photo from Facebook. This is me on UT campus in Austin, TX. Miss. OlaRay was a Jack Russell Terrier all-white runt. So special that the family who bred her just had to keep her. Her given name was Bunny and she was a peach.