Zeros

🦈 You're Gonna Need a Bigger Memory : The Funkadelic Fear and Sweet Summer Bites of JAWS 🎬 Do you remember where you were when the water turned mean? Not metaphorically—though, yes, the '70s were an ocean of war residue, polyester heartbreak, and bell-bottom psychology—but literally. When that great white fin sliced across your CRT-screen soul in JAWS , baby, it wasn’t just summer that got wrecked. It was the last few droplets of innocence left after Woodstock mud and Nixon’s slow fade to static. JAWS premiered in the summer of 1975, a time when Fonzie was still jumping jukeboxes and everyone’s mom had a crystal ashtray the size of a Crock-Pot. And when that Spielberg kid unspooled a sun-drenched shark apocalypse in surround sound (or mono, depending on your theater), America chomped. And oh, the biting. You remember. Your cousin Craig bit a Twinkie sideways that day and called it “shark trauma.” Biting became the new language of terror. Rice Krispy Treats wit...