Remember, Remember, the Fifth of November

I think I’ve had either too much coffee or tea today. Or a bit of both.

It’s nearly 11 p.m. and I feel anxious and nervous. And have this overwhelming feeling over me with sentiments of homesickness when I used to be at my grandmother’s place for over a week.

It’s a sinking kind of feeling. Dread. I remember feeling it when I marched home in Grade 8 after the principal found out I had forged a handwritten note from what appeared to be my father telling the school I would not be in class because my grandmother had died. Just so I could skip and go to Wonderland.

Or worse – when I got caught shoplifting a year later and I was waiting for the police officer to tell my parents.

It’s a certain, familiar feeling. And I can’t shake it.

London has been quite kind. The tube is slow, the weather is up and down, but I’ve seen some interesting things so far.

We went to Trafalgar Square on Guy Fawkes Night just at the beginning of the Million Mask March, where supposedly a million protesters wearing “Anon” masks would be marching to the Houses of Parliament.

We left pretty early on, but saw through Twitter updates during the night that thousands gathered and 10 were later arrested by the end of the night. Thomas shrugged it off -- "The police here are smart. They won't put up with too much shit." A few barricades were thrown and some firecrackers at police near the Parliament buildings, but that was about it. Ten arrests for thousands seems pretty quiet, in the grand scheme of things.

It was quite cool to be there before things got too hairy.

We had tickets to see Dead Alive, the cult Peter Jackson horror-comedy flick, as part of Backyard Cinema’s Zombie Apocalypse line-up.

Wow, Toronto needs something like this.

There are a number of these cinema events – the biggest probably being Secret Cinema, which only happens a couple times a year.

Basically, you buy a ticket without knowing the film or location. With Secret Cinema, the viewers are actually part of the film as extras. It’s pretty cool.

So, last night at Backyard Cinema…

We arrived in Hackney Wick at a warehouse on Dace Rd.

We were given a food/drink ration card and then a group of eight of us was instructed to stand against the wall where a guy dressed in police riot gear started barking orders at us.

“You will address me as ‘Sir, yes, sir.’ Is that clear?” he shouted.

And the eight responded, half serious, half snickering.

The officer then had us standing in two rows and told us to whisper a compliment into the ear of the stranger we were facing.

“Remember how this feels like when things get bad out there,” he said. “We have to take care of each other.”

We climbed two flights of stairs to a fluorescent blacklit hallway where another guy with a gas mask and containment suit checked us out for “decontamination.”

Shortly after, we arrived at a bar area that served burritos, nachos and beer.

A priest was there, reassuring us it would be OK, pointing a finger to a nearby wall of “Missing” bulletins of those lost in the zombie apocalypse.

Before many had time to finish their meals, a colonel pulled us into a “war room” where he took our surnames down and took inventory of our zombie survival skills. I said Shaolin spade. I know, not too original.

When the final group came in after 7:30 p.m., we were welcome to enter through part of the warehouse where they had several zombies contained. A nurse was doing experiments on one of the undead strapped to a gurney while another bleeding zombie was caged in.

At the back of the room were rows of red futons and blankets.

I'd almost forgotten how awesome Dead Alive was. Hadn’t seen it in years and was hands down the goriest film I’d ever experienced. Schlocky, slapstick and gory. So good.

When the credits rolled, the lights went out and the policemen came out again, shouting at people, that there’s been a security breach. In small groups, we had to get back out to the bar area, ducking all the zombies that were once contained.

There was smoke everywhere and was hard to see but there were a few zombies grabbing at you. It was actually really well done and freaky.

Considering that despite loving horror, the scares inside a shitty haunted house still make me jump. So I was actually taking escaping this thing pretty seriously.

And we survived. Huzzah!

Quick note: Went to Chris Stein’s "Blondie” exhibit at Somerset House today. Was surprised it was free. Great photos. There was one of Lester Bangs on a NYC beach that was classic. Bryan Adams (yes, Summer of ’69) has a photo exhibit on war heroes that will open up at the gallery next week, which is neat.

Second quick note: Went to see Neville’s Island tonight, a play about four co-workers who get stuck on an island. It was great to see Adrian Edmondson in person – his voice is so unique and it brought back so many great memories staying up late, watching Bottom and The Young Ones on YTV. Love.