Happy Goat Horror

Back in my day, we didn’t need a PhD in franchise continuity just to enjoy a horror movie. I mean, come on people, Michael Myers could stab a few kids in Halloween 4, disappear for a decade, and show up again with no explanation, and nobody batted an eye. Jason could rise from the grave, go to space, or star in a dream crossover with Freddy Krueger in Freddy vs. Jason, and we still lined up at the theater, excited to see him wreak havoc. Yet now, everywhere you look, fans and studios alike obsess over canon, timelines, and universe consistency as if a movie isn’t allowed to just be a movie. Here’s a thought: horror is entertainment. That’s it. Chill, grab your popcorn, and stop stressing over which story “counts.”

And don’t even get me started on timelines. Halloween alone is a headache factory: one timeline goes from the original straight through Halloween H20, another crams in the Thorn cult saga with sequels nobody asked for, and the newest reboot completely wipes out decades of continuity like it never happened. Plot holes? Who cares. Guts, gore, and giallo flair — those are the only things that matter. Honestly, if studios spent half as much time making the kills clever as they do making fan forums argue over timelines, we’d all be living in a paradise of perfectly executed machete scenes.

Jason? Oh, Jason’s a globetrotting mess. He dies, comes back, goes to space, visits dreamscapes with Freddy, and sometimes nobody even remembers who his mom is anymore. Somebody please tell the chainsaw in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre it doesn’t need a resume. Leatherface? Every sequel and reboot throws the last one in the trash, but people still cheer when the chainsaw comes out. It’s glorious chaos, and the chaos is the point. Canon? Optional. Fun? Mandatory.

Evil Dead? The original, the sequel, the campy Ash vs Evil Dead show, and the 2013 remake all exist in varying timelines that may or may not touch each other. And guess what? People don’t care. They love it anyway, because the blood, laughs, and sheer chaos are consistent. Frankly, if Ash had to worry about canon, he’d never leave the cabin — he’d be too busy updating his horror movie timeline spreadsheet. And we all know spreadsheets don’t fight Deadites.

Hellraiser? Multiple sequels, different Pinheads, timelines that contradict themselves so badly they could form their own paradox planet. Yet fans still quote lines, dress as cenobites for Halloween, and cheer when someone says “You’re no good.” Canon didn’t make it fun; the sadistic creativity did.

A Nightmare on Elm Street: New Nightmare throws continuity out the window just to get meta. Freddy’s a meta-commentary on continuity obsession — coincidence? I think not. Horror thrives when it’s messy, absurd, and unapologetically entertaining. Nothing screams “thrilling” like a villain who’s only consistent in his ability to terrify.

So next time someone whines about canon, tell them to get off my lawn. Look, horror fans have survived decades of messed-up timelines, zombie Jasons, chainsaw-wielding maniacs, and hellish puzzle boxes with no complaints. If you’re still whining about canon, you’re doing it wrong. Popcorn, a cold beer, and a willingness to embrace chaos — that’s all you need. The rest is just trivia.

Now get off my lawn!