Horror Paradox

People pay money to be frightened. They queue for films that disturb their sleep and rides that simulate falling. Fear — the one emotion every creature flees — is sold as entertainment. Why?

The likely answer is rehearsal in safety. Fear is the body's drill, and a horror film is a drill without the fire. The heart races, the palms sweat, the machinery of alarm runs at full power — and then the lights come up and nothing was ever at stake. The system gets its exercise; the person walks out intact.

There is a second layer: relief is one of life's great pleasures, and horror manufactures it wholesale. Every safe return from the dark cinema is a small resurrection.

The use: do not fear your fears when they come in controlled doses. The roller coaster of the mind — the difficult book, the hard conversation practiced in your head, the imagined worst case fully walked through — is training, not morbidity. Fear rehearsed is fear reduced.