The Nuclear Rat Syndrome
Recently I watched two films classified as thrillers: Alfred Hitchcock’s “The Birds” and “The China Syndrome”, which deals with the threat of a nuclear power plant meltdown (like Three-Mile Island for you history buffs). While I found both somewhat suspenseful in their own way, I wasn’t fully engaged in either movie enough to receive the full thrilling effect. However, it is now apparent to me the impact both films have impressed upon my mind.
Shortly after finishing “The China Syndrome” last night, I heard a loud low rumbling coming from outside. Now when you just finish watching a movie about a nuclear reactor that almost explodes twice and whose potential effects could wipe out an area the size of Pennsylvania, your head perks up a bit when you hear a loud rumble outside. I disregarded the noise at first since it couldn’t be thunder after such a nice looking day on the drive home. It was probably a jet flying by (which I witnessed from my office a couple weeks ago) or some truck from the street.
But there it was again: the low rumble from outside. My better instincts told me not to worry about it, but feeling antsy from the movie I had to step outside to investigate further, only to discover that indeed a thunderstorm was rapidly approaching. I quickly exonerated the fears impressed upon me from the film and went back to my room. Sometimes fiction does have a strong impact on our perceived reality.
This point was stressed more today at work as I was starting up again after my lunch break. Suddenly I start to hear little scurrying above me on top of the ceiling tiles. After listening for a couple seconds, I confirm that there is some rodent above my office scratching around. At first, I try to ignore the rat (presumably) and attempt to continue with my current tasks. However, the noise from above starts to get louder and with each little scurry my tensions rise. Recalling the recently watched film “The Birds” didn’t help either as the scratching became more pronounced. Just like in the movie, the rat started to go crazy, from my best estimates, and I could hear it frantically scratching at the styrofoam ceiling tile. I look around my office to confirm that I have no food around or anything that might possibly attract the rodent into coming in the office.
The only reason the birds ever tried to force their way into peoples homes in the movie was to kill them, so maybe the same circumstances were happening here with this rat. By now, I have completely stopped what I’ve been doing and am staring up at the ceiling, planning out my course of action for when the rat enters my office. Do I hit it with one of my big textbooks? Do I try to capture it? Do I force it out of the office? Options are running through my mind as the rat scurries to another tile and continues scratch.
The rat continues to move across the ceiling and eventually stops on one of the air vents leading into the room. I could almost imagine the rat prodding every possible entry point and method for its attack, much like the Velociraptors in “Jurassic Park”. Then, as soon as it had arrived, it scampered off along something metallic, leaving only the sound of my heart beating in my ears. I wait for another minute to confirm that the rodent has actually left and then slowly return to work. The whole incident reminds me of the bee invasion I had at school one night.
Maybe my imagination pronounces these fears more and exaggerates the suspense involved. Maybe this is a sign that I’m watching too many movies and need a break from fictional-reality. Or maybe my mind prefers a slightly traumatic state, which would explain my suspensefully tense dreams. Whatever the reasoning behind it, I took two simple things from nature and blew them out of proportion with the aid of a few films. Fear is truly a compelling emotion.
Shortly after finishing “The China Syndrome” last night, I heard a loud low rumbling coming from outside. Now when you just finish watching a movie about a nuclear reactor that almost explodes twice and whose potential effects could wipe out an area the size of Pennsylvania, your head perks up a bit when you hear a loud rumble outside. I disregarded the noise at first since it couldn’t be thunder after such a nice looking day on the drive home. It was probably a jet flying by (which I witnessed from my office a couple weeks ago) or some truck from the street.
But there it was again: the low rumble from outside. My better instincts told me not to worry about it, but feeling antsy from the movie I had to step outside to investigate further, only to discover that indeed a thunderstorm was rapidly approaching. I quickly exonerated the fears impressed upon me from the film and went back to my room. Sometimes fiction does have a strong impact on our perceived reality.
This point was stressed more today at work as I was starting up again after my lunch break. Suddenly I start to hear little scurrying above me on top of the ceiling tiles. After listening for a couple seconds, I confirm that there is some rodent above my office scratching around. At first, I try to ignore the rat (presumably) and attempt to continue with my current tasks. However, the noise from above starts to get louder and with each little scurry my tensions rise. Recalling the recently watched film “The Birds” didn’t help either as the scratching became more pronounced. Just like in the movie, the rat started to go crazy, from my best estimates, and I could hear it frantically scratching at the styrofoam ceiling tile. I look around my office to confirm that I have no food around or anything that might possibly attract the rodent into coming in the office.
The only reason the birds ever tried to force their way into peoples homes in the movie was to kill them, so maybe the same circumstances were happening here with this rat. By now, I have completely stopped what I’ve been doing and am staring up at the ceiling, planning out my course of action for when the rat enters my office. Do I hit it with one of my big textbooks? Do I try to capture it? Do I force it out of the office? Options are running through my mind as the rat scurries to another tile and continues scratch.
The rat continues to move across the ceiling and eventually stops on one of the air vents leading into the room. I could almost imagine the rat prodding every possible entry point and method for its attack, much like the Velociraptors in “Jurassic Park”. Then, as soon as it had arrived, it scampered off along something metallic, leaving only the sound of my heart beating in my ears. I wait for another minute to confirm that the rodent has actually left and then slowly return to work. The whole incident reminds me of the bee invasion I had at school one night.
Maybe my imagination pronounces these fears more and exaggerates the suspense involved. Maybe this is a sign that I’m watching too many movies and need a break from fictional-reality. Or maybe my mind prefers a slightly traumatic state, which would explain my suspensefully tense dreams. Whatever the reasoning behind it, I took two simple things from nature and blew them out of proportion with the aid of a few films. Fear is truly a compelling emotion.
posted by Chris Burzlaff @ 7/21/2006
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