I watched Carrie for the first time tonight. The 2002 version. Complete with Emilie de Ravin — before she was blasted to the A-list with one fateful plane crash (ahem, #LOST). Carrie was terrible. For the love of God, don’t watch it. When she was blowing shit up with her mind bullets, I felt like a Sim character watching all the hateful Sims die. Special effects must not have mattered in 2002 to the Carrie crew (All that mojo must have been sucked up by Spiderman, The Two Towers, Attack of the Clones, The Chamber of Secrets, and Goldmember. Bummer.)

Even so, I was kinda scared. (Understand that if you played me suspenseful music and sent a puppy racing around a corner, it would stop my heart.) But it’s been a while since I’ve been afraid, and that small dose of terror is like a shot of insulin after 64 peanut M&Ms — delicious, then soothing. Embrace the fear. But boycott the crappy CG.

Do you ever need a fear fix? What does it for you?