January 31, 2007
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Finding Nemo
I’d never seen ‘Finding Nemo.’ I knew it was supposed to be clever and fun, and having just watched it, I have to say that it is.
But there’s this thing I have. I have a very focused, very specific fear. I call it a squick, because that’s really what it is. It’s not a phobia, it’s a squick.
‘Squick’ is a term that originated on the internet, amongst BDSM advocates. (Bondage and Dominance/Sado-Masochism.) In BDSM, people, ah, do things to each other, in a consensual manner, and the way it works is that there’s a safeword, or a word that the bottom can tell the top so the top will know the bottom is freaking out and to stop, like, for real. The safeword isn’t usually ‘stop,’ because what’s the fun in that?
Anyway: The thing that makes you freak out is called a ‘squick.’
It’s different for different people. It might be the same thing for two people, but at different degrees. I’ll forgo examples, because it’s BDSM. Use your imagination, you dirty, dirty person.
You never thought ‘Finding Nemo’ would come up in a discussion of BDSM, did you?
I have a squick, and I consider it a squick, because I almost turned off ‘Finding Nemo.’ And the squick is this: Being alone in the deep, deep ocean. Floating on top of a straight down mile of water. Being totally helpless to whatever monster might come up and snap me off the surface.
Just so you know, this happens at least twice in ‘Finding Nemo,’ and one time we see a whale approach the two fish from behind, while they’re unaware, there floating in the open, deep ocean. That, in a nutshell, is my absolute nightmare. My Room 101. My squick. I twitched in the seat. I thought about stopping the movie. I had a very complicated moment of watching myself be squicked by a kids’ movie, trying to rationally understand how I can possibly be so freaked by this.
So I think that aquatic kids’ movies are out.
Comments (11)
How did you like “Jaws”?
That’s a great term. Mine – moviewise – is a certain kind of kids in jeopardy, usually illness wise, but also kidnappings, etc. I just turn it off, or even walk out. Now I know what to call it.
Never heard ‘squick’. Nice.
Nope. Never thought I’d learn about a BDSM term while reading about Nemo.
I have a serious fear of water, period. I can’t say I got squeamish (or squickish) in Nemo, maybe because it’s an animation, and therefore, my brain somehow knew “not real”. But “the Perfect Storm”? Couldn’t watch it. Water freaks me out (whether underneath or on top) but I sure do love living BY it.
A solution to many squicks in life! Get yourself a good dog! After years of camping by myself in wilderness areas (with my dog; rest her soul)….the late night walks (loved to fish for brown trout after midnight) seem so much more vulnerable…(solo)!
I had a moment of nearly choking panic while sitting in my very first Petroleum Engineering class at Texas A&M. We were disucssing topigraphics re: off shore, deep water drilling and he casually flipped up a chart to illustrate and while clutching my throat, I observed everyone else in the room was casual to the point of near slumber. I changed my major to Chemical Engineering after that.
I haven’t seen it, but there’s a flick called “Open Water“, in which I think the main setting is two divers stranded in the open ocean with nothing to do except wait to be eaten by sharks.
My guess is that you’ll want to avoid it.
Yeah, I heard about ‘Open Water,’ and the title alone kept me away.
The dog solution is a good one, if you have a house and a backyard. Of course, a dog wouldn’t help much if you’re about to be torn apart by an orca or something.
Barbara: You’re an Aggie?
One of my so-called Aspergery traits is that I don’t like the ocean. I can grin and bear it, and go in, but it is difficult, and I won’t go very far. What is ASy about it, perhaps only in a comical way, is that I don’t like it because it is disorganized. You don’t know what’s in there, what you are going to step on, what the water is going to do, and what is swimming past you. That is way, way too many unknowns to sumbmerge myself into. Streams are much less disorganized, pools are far, far better, and the tub at home is the model of unit organization–and that is the order of my preference.
Also, the death I fear most is drowning, even though I hear anecdotally from survivors that it’s really not that bad. The thought of scuba is uncomfortable, and more than 10 minutes in a submarine would have me bouncing off the inner walls.
Yep. Gig ‘em! HOWDY, DAMMIT!
Me too.
Biggest fear.
I call it a deep water phobia, because I otherwsie love the water, I grew up on the Chesapeake.
Deep Water gets me tho’ . There is prolly a proper term, there is always a proper term for a phobia….
I hyperventilated once while trying to swim across a spring fed/filled abandoned mining hole in North Eastern PA.
My buddy dove in an grabbed me, I was going down.
I will never set foot on a cruise ship.
Fuck no.
Deep water. My only phobia, other than Democrats.
The gripping feeling of terror as you look down and see the darkness of the bottomless
trench. Quite possibly the worst feeling in the world.
Now if I can see the bottom, I’m okay. If not, full-blown panic attack.
Hope someday I’ll get over it.
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