1408: An Allegory for My Own Private Hell

I don't know how many of you have seen 1408. It is an absolutely marvelous film, and you should go rent it immediately.

Please know, though, that I plan on suing the filmmakers. I am not entirely sure how they managed to follow me around and record both my day-to-day life and the inner workings of my mind, but they managed it and now owe me loads of money for stealing my life for monetary gain. What follows is each count of the complaint I am drafting. These counts clearly (pretty good, right Mechelle?) show that the parallels between this movie and my place of employment are too strong to be mere coincidence. Please feel free to offer tips for best organizing my argument and, if you've seen the film, let me know if I've missed anything. Also, please excuse any spoilers, but I am fighting for my good name here.

COUNT ONE

Every picture in the room is askew and ugly. Ditto the paintings in my place of employment.

COUNT TWO

The temperature fluctuates between boiling hot to freezing cold for no rhyme or reason. The scene where Mike Enslin (John Cusack) burns pages from his file to keep warm was especially powerful for me as I have often lit the contents of my recycling bin on fire in a futile attempt to save myself from hypothermia.

COUNT THREE

John Cusack and I are both remarkably good looking. And thin. They obviously chose the male equivalent of me to play me. For this, at least, I am grateful.

COUNT FOUR

At one point, Gerald Olin (Samuel L. Jackson) asks Enslin if he's a drinker. Enslin answers, "Of course I am. I told you I'm a writer." I have said this at least 15 times throughout my life and have witnesses to prove it.

COUNT FIVE

We both equate We've Only Just Begun by the Carpenters to some sort of death march.

COUNT SIX

Both Enslin and I are disgusted by the things we do to make money. He travels to hotels to listen to yokels babble about fictitious hauntings; I travel from desk-to-desk to listen to idiots create fanciful tales about why their computer isn't working.

COUNT SEVEN

Most obviously, there is no escape. Ever. **Spoiler Alert** When Enslin believes he has finally escaped from the room, he learns it was all a trick and he never really left. I wept during this scene.

COUNT EIGHT

For both Enslin and I, death is a happy alternative to spending one more hour in our own personal purgatories.

COUNT NINE

Finally, and most persuasively, the demons/evil beings/whatever seem to have a bone to pick with Enslin, and the viewer is never entirely sure what he did to deserve all this. There are vague implications that maybe he was a bit of a bastard and made some big mistakes, but I think we can all agree that this is hardly an argument for eternal suffering.

This is precisely what I deal with every single day. People yell, scream, throw things, try to toss me out of windows and why? Why do they do this? I don't know, but much like Enslin, I spend every moment of every day reliving painful memories in the hopes that something, anything, will help me realize what I have done to deserve this never ending suffering. And, perhaps, with that revelation will come some sort of escape.

IN CONCLUSION

All I ask in recompense is what is fair:

1. A public apology from Stephen King (even though I haven't read his short story, I am assuming that he is the one who followed me around) and Dimension Films.
2. A chance to meet John Cusack and maybe have a nice meal.
3. Either a job as a writer for Dimension Films or enough money in a cash settlement so that I can once and for all quit my job.