It’s all relative—with the rolling boulder of “chaos magick”. Nothing is “what it seems” with tricks of illusion & perspective, as death is just another side of what we call “real”.
Like “Alice in Wonderland” through the laughing shards of an oozy, milk-light mirror in a fun-house. Magic shoots from the fingers of our arch-ghoul, but most unfortunately ebbs away with the phases of the moon, or electrical static from household items.
And our hero is shrunk to the size of a mouse-meat morsel. . . . . as a ravenous house-cat rounds the corner and licks its murrrm’ing chops. Like a cricket hopping about in a humid basement, larger humanity pays no attention and figures “the cat will take care of it”.
Beetlejuice, now in miniature—must survive this scene for the movie to have a happy ending as he scurries around, tearing around furniture and diving through holes in the wall as he crawls through roach-shit in a most undignified state.
A chase ensues—peeking out here and there like “Whack-a-Mole” as the cat scampers for him. Our match-box goblin gets the upper hand and sticks it in the hindquarters.
The cat jumps up on a chair, then the table as it peers down and deliberates over its strategy.
Beetlejuice turns into a giant, scuttling scorpion with a head the size of a man, affixed to the body for creepy effect as the cat runs off. He crawls up the wall and out the window as he resumes human form and dusts off his sleeves with chuckling laughter.
Is this a 4/20 dream, or what? Ingest healthy and legal substances—like a e-mail subscription to this blog for manic, terrible entertainments. Imagination runs wild here in the St. Louis netherworld. See you soon. . . . .