Unfortunately, 1994 doesn’t have a lot of that going for it. As I have gone deeper and deeper into the tractless wastes that make up 1994’s horror library, I’ve become increasingly concerned that I’m going to die out here in this depressing, squalid landscape, clutching a copy of In the Mouth of Madness as the light fades from my eyes.

Nelson Mandela being a boss, Roseanne doing stuff, and Whitney Houston is awarded. Also David Karesh is up to absolutely NO GOOD.

A video review of February 1994 highlights. Worm farms, Olympics, and Virtual Reality!

My mom and I watched a lot of figure skating together, not just what aired from the Winter Olympics in February of 1994 in Lillehammer, Norway. We knew who all of the major contenders were, including Nancy Kerrigan and Tonya Harding, before Harding and her ex-husband presumably conspired to wipe Nancy out with a dose of back alley street medicine.

A white Ford Bronco, with a Hertz spokesman hunkered down in back, followed by over a dozen police cars down a freeway for 45 minutes formed an unforgettable moment in U.S. history. Footage was thrust in our face in real time, as it was happening, in an era when that kind of live juicy entertainment was rare. Details surrounding the chase centered on a beloved athlete and entertainer suspected of a double murder. No one could get enough.

I didn’t process many of the lyrics, I just watched the continued flash of crude depictions and listened to the pulsating throb of what I surmised at the time was a dot matrix printer having sex with a second dot matrix printer slathered with mashed potatoes. My sister showed up just in time to see me standing there gazing onward as Reznor continued to wish animal-like copulation on me and then take time to show me the ball gag in his mouth.

Check out the events of January 1994 that include an earthquake, NAFTA, figure skaters, aliens, and worse.

You may be aware that for the entire month of February, Dr. Travis Terry will again be traveling through time and living as the time-natives do: ingesting only pop culture from the distant time-lands of 1994. Nothing, but industrial rock, Super Nintendo and Michael Crichton novels for 28 days.

And I know what you’re saying, “Dylan, how can I travel to 1994, but in a spooky way?”

I hope you brought some trash to stick in the doohickey on top of your DeLorean because if you want to hang with me this month, you’re going to need to zip back to 1994 for the full 28 days of February. Some of you just said, “Well, I’ll just wait until you get back,” and that’s fine. But that’s also a weak, loser-like mentality. Be a winner, do drugs, and come to 1994 with me.