In all the literature we have read, along with the movies we have watched their have been some characters that make it through the zombie apocalypse and others who don’t. This brings me to the question “would I make it in a zombie apocalypse?” Obviously there are several factors that play a role, such as, “Where I am located? Who am I with? The type of zombies I am up against? What weapons I have?” If we were to say I have moderate resources with all these and going up against moderate speed zombies I think it would be very difficult to survive. I would say I am fairly clever and a good athlete, which are both major proponents in survival but during a zombie apocalypse there is just too much potential for things to go wrong. The fact of the matter is, the zombies so often predict what you are forced to do. Whether you are on an island or in a school, the zombies create situations of isolation which lead to lack of resources and problems within the groups. In order to be successful I think the group is essential, if you are around people you trust and are helpful it brings up ones chances of survival immensely. With that said, during an apocalypse if you are not with your loved ones (usually the ones you trust) there is always going to be that want to go out and find them, which creates extremely dangerous situations. A zombie apocalypse I think comes down to cleverness and luck. I think some individuals can create schemes to make it through but there is a huge proponent of just being lucky.
[...]
In all the literature we have read, along with the movies we have watched their have been some characters that make it through the zombie apocalypse and others who don’t. This brings me to the question “would I make it in a zombie apocalypse?” Obviously there are several factors that play a role, such as, “Where I am located? Who am I with? The type of zombies I am up against? What weapons I have?” If we were to say I have moderate resources with all these and going up against moderate speed zombies I think it would be very difficult to survive. I would say I am fairly clever and a good athlete, which are both major proponents in survival but during a zombie apocalypse there is just too much potential for things to go wrong. The fact of the matter is, the zombies so often predict what you are forced to do. Whether you are on an island or in a school, the zombies create situations of isolation which lead to lack of resources and problems within the groups. In order to be successful I think the group is essential, if you are around people you trust and are helpful it brings up ones chances of survival immensely. With that said, during an apocalypse if you are not with your loved ones (usually the ones you trust) there is always going to be that want to go out and find them, which creates extremely dangerous situations. A zombie apocalypse I think comes down to cleverness and luck. I think some individuals can create schemes to make it through but there is a huge proponent of just being lucky.
[...]
Categories:
SCENE I
[A forensics laboratory in Northern Ireland. Two anthropologists stand over an operating table. The light is interrogating. The backdrop is dim and the bay windows dark. One figure is male, the other female. The decrepit mass on the table resembles a skeleton hide.]
SCIENTIST Scalpel.
ASSISTANT Doctor?
SCIENTIST Yes, Laura?
ASSISTANT The spec. data indicates dairy and meat digestion, which corroborates our highborn hypothesis.
SCIENTIST Further testing is needed for conformation Laura.
ASSISTANT Rory, we are so close. It’s all here. God willing--it’s all in front of us.
SCIENTIST Have you read Aeschylus?
ASSISTANT Don’t lecture me Rory. The nails are filed. The hair is gelled with French oils. The skin is laced with lavender extract. The bowels are ritualistically dismembered. This man was a Brahman, or a Druid, or even a King! A King Rory! Imagine that! The implications--think of the implications.
SCIENTIST Even in our sleep, pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart. And in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God.
ASSISTANT I don’t believe in God.
SCIENTIST Do you know why my parents named me Rory?
ASSISTANT No I’ve never known.
SCIENTIST My namesake was the last of the Irish Kings. Long after the high kings at Tara--long after the extinction of the giant wolves--and long before my lineage could possibly be traced. We are the descendents--the bastards--of god-kings who spat in the face of Christian Gods and worshipped the bogs they crawled out from.
[The scene fades to black.]
SCENE II
[The stage is suddenly illuminated exposing a stone cavern ordained with megaliths--
each baring an intricate carving. Three blood-filled cauldrons rest beneath three
archways exiting the tomb temple.]
KING Bring him forward!
[Three hooded figures drag forward the tortured body of a richly clad clansman.]
HERETIC Vile! Unclean! Usurper of my father’s throne!
KING Silence doomed one. God has spoken.
HERETIC You desecrate the stone throne. You, who would call yourself God and King of men, you that dare the slave come hither? Covered with an antic face. With no fear or scorn at our solemnity. By the stock and honor of my kin, I’ll see you struck dead from this life or the next. In dirt or pine, from the soil I’ll dry your roots and poison your herds. I’ll famine your slaves and watch from below, as you too are unseated! I’ll greet you with open arms and the embrace of a fervent worm--eager to digest.
KING Flesh-eater you will not be given the ritual of Passover. Take him to the bogs, make him a eunuch, tie weights to his limbs and feed him to the sludge of the earth. Forever he shall rot--till the very ends of time.
HERETIC I curse you! You and your misbegotten sons of whores! I’ll see you doomed for this and I will rise again! I’ll eat the flesh of false kings and bastard children! I’ll return for mine! A curse on you and all who call you true King! I’ll haunt you and yours hereafter, till the very end of time.
KING [betraying a hint of fear]
Cut out his tongue.
[Scene fades as HERETIC is carried away convulsing in rage.]
Categories:
Didn’t mean to disregard the final post and so it goes. I also wasn’t really sure where to take this; we’ve literally covered everything related to zombies that I can think of. Then I remembered the one problem/question/whatever I’ve always had with the zombie genre that no one seems to be concerned with: zombie teeth. Considering that the archetypical zombie spends his, or her, time preoccupied with thoughts of human flesh and brains it’s only logical to assume that they would need a sturdy set of chompers to get the job done. But wait, zombies are in a constant state of putrefaction so wouldn’t that apply to their teeth as well? I’ve asked this question to a number of individuals, both z-classmates and random non-classmates, and found that no one else seems to care. Brutal. Even so, I remain dedicated to uncovering the mystery behind zombie teeth…a seemingly impossible task considering that zombies aren’t real (#nooffense). Naturally, I started with google. The results were less than stellar, not yielding much beyond costume zombie teeth and DIY YouTube videos. I pushed on and found The Federal Vampire and Zombie Agency with an entire section dedicated to “The Science of Zombies.” Interesting (enough) stuff.
Here’s a picture of the zombie jaw:
Normal jaw on the left; zombie jaw on the right (with a larger jawbone and thicker muscle). Allegedly, “Important modifications occur to the zombie jaw. Extra bone is deposited on the lower jaw to form an attachment point for larger chewing muscles. These adaptations enable zombies to bite through skull and bone and get at the pillars of their diet: brains and bone marrow.” Wow, cool. I decided to believe that this was possible…I have little to no evidence to the contrary and I don’t know anything about biology (human or otherwise) so I can’t hypothesize.
Beyond that, “zombie teeth are not adapted to the powerful forces exerted on them by the jaw. Teeth crack and fall out, and the holes they leave behind leak sludge-like zombie blood. Eventually, all their teeth are gone, and a zombie is forced to chew with its exposed jawbones.” Wow, neat. Again, I decided to believe FVZA. I suppose it makes sense using the typical representation of zombies, considering that their super-human strength and indifference or insensitivity to pain would allow them to disregard the whole teeth situation. Unless they do care, which they might, but that’s not what this is about. Humans can already do a great deal of damage with their teeth, so it doesn’t seem like a stretch to imagine zombified versions biting through skin and skull with equal success. They would simply chomp down full force on whatever body part they can, until the teeth, or exposed jaw for the toothless, connects with the opposite side.
I tried to find other “credible” resources to answer this question, but that wasn’t a thing. So I’m left with what's above as the only seemingly plausible, non-Yahoo user generated response to my question. I would be lying if I said I was satisfied, but there it is. Zombies have teeth, unless they don’t, and either way they’ll try to bite you and it will hurt.
[...]
Here’s a picture of the zombie jaw:
Normal jaw on the left; zombie jaw on the right (with a larger jawbone and thicker muscle). Allegedly, “Important modifications occur to the zombie jaw. Extra bone is deposited on the lower jaw to form an attachment point for larger chewing muscles. These adaptations enable zombies to bite through skull and bone and get at the pillars of their diet: brains and bone marrow.” Wow, cool. I decided to believe that this was possible…I have little to no evidence to the contrary and I don’t know anything about biology (human or otherwise) so I can’t hypothesize.
Beyond that, “zombie teeth are not adapted to the powerful forces exerted on them by the jaw. Teeth crack and fall out, and the holes they leave behind leak sludge-like zombie blood. Eventually, all their teeth are gone, and a zombie is forced to chew with its exposed jawbones.” Wow, neat. Again, I decided to believe FVZA. I suppose it makes sense using the typical representation of zombies, considering that their super-human strength and indifference or insensitivity to pain would allow them to disregard the whole teeth situation. Unless they do care, which they might, but that’s not what this is about. Humans can already do a great deal of damage with their teeth, so it doesn’t seem like a stretch to imagine zombified versions biting through skin and skull with equal success. They would simply chomp down full force on whatever body part they can, until the teeth, or exposed jaw for the toothless, connects with the opposite side.
I tried to find other “credible” resources to answer this question, but that wasn’t a thing. So I’m left with what's above as the only seemingly plausible, non-Yahoo user generated response to my question. I would be lying if I said I was satisfied, but there it is. Zombies have teeth, unless they don’t, and either way they’ll try to bite you and it will hurt.
Categories:
Hello Hello,
I'll be 'presenting' this story today. Thought if you were interested in the presentation it might be worth a read.
Cheers,
W.
[...]
I'll be 'presenting' this story today. Thought if you were interested in the presentation it might be worth a read.
Cheers,
W.
For
Emily A, whose faith inspires even the faithless.
Every
Sunday, the doors to St. Michael’s church in Amherst, Massachusetts
are open. Inside its doors stands an armed security guard, the
mercenary type, the only type of guns money can buy this late in the
Z outbreak. The guard checks me as I walk through the wooden doors.
“Name?”
“Dr.
William F. Taylor,” I respond.
“Bites?”
he asks curtly, sweeping my frail frame with his eyes. It's been a
long time since I've had a full meal, and MREs are expensive.
“None.”
The mercenary runs a handheld metal device in front of my forehead.
His hand does not shake, this moment is usually quite tense. His
other is motionless on the grip of his modified AK-47. The device
clicks, and a light blinks green.
“Clear,”
the guard tells me. He has just checked for normal temperature. The
bitten will be feverish, you see. The undead will be cold, the last
heat from their bodies bleeds out a long time before they reanimate.
Dogs, of course, can sniff an infected from 200 yards away, but
churches could never afford a dog. The good dogs were seized and
militarized during the first surges of the outbreak. Using men is
cheaper as there was a surplus of ex-Iraq, ex-Afghanistan
30-somethings. The men came with the bonus of providing someone to
talk to when things got lonely. Although, for most mercenaries, dogs
might have been better conversation.
“Thank
you,” I tell him as I step to his right-hand side into the empty
church.
“Say,
what’s a medical type doing in a place like this?”
“Are
my kind any less in need of your services?” I respond.
“It’s
just... there haven’t been many in here, since the outbreak.”
“I
just need to discuss something with the man who is in that box.”
“It’s
not really for discussions. It’s a confessional.”
“I
am aware of what the box is called, thank you.” I proceed past the
mercenary and towards the box. I did not mean to be rude, but
sometimes rudeness is unavoidable.
“Suit
yourself,” the guard says to my back. “Prick,” I hear him
whisper under his breath. Dogs didn't whisper insults at your back.
Dogs wouldn't steal your food or your weapons in the night.
Mercenaries are all the same. Putrid humor and a lack of wit. No
contemplation of the situation at hand. It’s only the gun pointed
at the infected and the click of the trigger. No future past the
muzzle flash.
I once heard a hired gun teaching a man how to fire his AK early in
the outbreak, ‘you count out while you shoot:
die-mother-fucker-die, and then their fucking brain is on the wall,
boom!' He laughed, 'you try-'
I
pity
these men.
I
open the door and sit down in the confessional. The priest slides the
screen open. “Yes, my child?” the priest asks. I knew he was
going to say it, though I’ve never been to a confessional before.
You couldn’t have paid me to be here before the outbreak. I find
the whole situation of confession to be unavoidably creepy. Something
or other about a healthy dose of Judaism in the younger years mixed
with an atheist’s heart.
“Father?”
I anxiously say, feeling the sheer religiosity of the pseudonym.
“Yes,
my child?” I can see him through the cage. It has not been repaired
since at least the start of the outbreak. It seems as though several
people have tried to punch their way through it. Hopefully they were
still people at that point, but that’s what I’m here to discuss.
“I have a question,” I continue.
“Anything,
my son,” the priest responds. At least I assume he’s a priest. I
suppose it could be another ‘die-mother-fucker-die’ behind this
cage. I trust him. I’m not sure why.
“This
plague-,” I begin but he cuts me off:
“How
can God allow it?”
“Well,
yes.” I am stunned at this. There must have been others with this
question. Thinking on it now, what a fool I was thinking no idiot
would run to the church with this question. It took me months to work
up the courage to come into this place. How many thousands and
millions died in those months? How many mothers, and sisters, and
fathers passed? How many best friends and lovers? Uncountable
cherished reanimated corpses had been put down like rabid family
dogs, and here I am, in a confessional, thinking I’m the first
person to ask a priest what in the fuck is happening. Idiot.
“Have
you lost anyone dear?” he asks in his gruff voice.
“I
have. Emily,” I
knew her while I was in school, the sporty, yet academic type. She
went to our campus church nearly every weekend. She was devoted; I
think I might be here for her, because she can’t be. She told me
once that she believed wholeheartedly in the church, but that the
“levels of childhood indoctrination can be a bit creepy.” I miss
her dearly, even if it was just to have someone to disagree with.
The
priest waits a few extra beats before saying, “Blessed are you who
weep now, for you will laugh.”
“Is
that scripture?”
“I
know that it can be hard to see, but you cannot look for the living
among the dead. And, yes, that was scripture. Has it been a long time
since your last confession?”
“It
has,” I respond. I wasn’t going to tell him anything about my
background, I’m here to get an answer.
“How
long has it been?”
“Well,
I was in a church once, ten years ago.” It was true. I had been in
a church ten years previously for a funeral. Another old school
friend had passed. No one particularly important to me. Just a man
that I had come to pay my respects to. Since then, churches had
always seemed ominous, like the place where death lived. So many
candles, crying family and friends, stained glass with screaming
prophets; shocking that anyone comes to these places for guidance.
“Not
a religious upbringing?” He asks pensively.
“You
could say that.”
“I
take it that you lost Emily during the outbreak then?”
He
knows. Of course he knows. He knows that I would have been to a
church for Emily’s funeral, had she passed before the outbreak.
There aren’t funerals the same way anymore. It was a clear, cold
night in April. When you put someone down, it’s just not the same.
They were already dead when you put them down. You were just
finishing the job God couldn’t. I don't think Emily would have seen
it this way. “I’m not here to talk about her.”
“No,
you came here for an answer. I’m afraid to say that I only have to
give you what the Lord has seen fit to give me.” He sounds firm,
even in telling me he doesn’t know what to tell me.
“And
what is that, exactly?”
“Scripture,
my son-” I can hear his smile through the cage. I suppose it’s
more of a veil, but I’m glad it’s obstructing my vision. I don’t
want to see the smug smile I know must be on his face. A doctor, in
the end of days, coming to a priest. I’ve spent all of my time, all
of my working life trying to prolong life in defiance of everything
that he believes. I
remember the day the deer left the town, Amherst was the hub of the
intellectual community in Massachusetts, but it never was overcrowded
enough to push the natural life away. The deer left first. They must
have seen the bright apocalypse headlights cresting the hill, more
dangerous than our cars. They hightailed it out of town, two by two,
on the same roads they used to die crossing. Smug
god-fearing fuck Noah was right. “It has to do with the earliest
conception of man.” I had tuned him out momentarily, his words
break up my brief daydream. “There was a race of men that populated
the earth before what we would call, ‘ours,’ These people were
washed away in the flood, which the Lord helped Noah to prepare for.”
“Oh
yeah, the plagues?” I ask.
“I
believe you’re referring to Moses.”
“Sure,”
I respond, “so the flood?”
“Yes,
of course, the Lord was sorry that he had made humankind on the
earth, and it grieved him to his heart.”
“He
had a heart? Isn’t he incorporeal, ethereal, something?”
“You
have a heart, don’t you?” He asks me, I can smell the trap.
“His
image, yeah, I get it,” I went to college at a prestigious
university. I am a doctor, I don’t know much about scripture, but
that was a softball. I
used to work in politics, but a colleague, in one of his brief
moments of sobriety, had told me that my heart had not been hard
enough for the political world. “Try non-profits, they'll treat you
better,” he had said. I had, I had transitioned from the political
sphere into the non-profit universe for a time. The books on my one
lonely shelf had collected dust for a time, and my mind had numbed,
so I went to medical school instead.
“Good,
my son,” he responds.
“So
the lord just blots out people that piss him off?” I ask. I realize
this wasn’t the nicest way I could have raised this question. “Like
the plagues?”
“But
it is more than a plague, William, it is a rebirth.” I’m not sure
what to make of this, so I take a breath and wait. I wonder how he
knew my name, maybe he can hear everything that happens in the church
through these thin walls. “Are you able to reach the Bible on your
right hand side?” He asks the question, knowing that I can.
“Yes.”
I hold the Bible in my hands. It’s old and worn. It looks as if
it’s been handled by a thousand different people in this box since
the outbreak. This was a thing of beauty once.
“Could
you open it to Genesis 1:26?” I open the Bible too quickly, and
find myself in Deuteronomy. I back track, and find the passage the
man has told me to look for.
“Alright,
here it is.”
“Could
you read verse 26, please?” He’s treating me like a child. He’s
treating me like one of the sheep he led before the outbreak. I’m
no sheep, but I do what he says, I came here for his advice, I’ll
play along.
“‘Then
God said, “Let us make mankind in our image, according to our
likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and
over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the wild
animals of the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon
the earth.”’” I pause, “Shall I continue?”
“No,
that’s far enough. What does dominion mean to you, William?”
“Rulership,”
I respond.
“Indeed,
rulership, but more than that, does dominion not also imply
stewardship? Can a king rule over a population that he lets starve?”
“No,
I guess he can’t,” I say to the screen.
“Our
kind had a task in this world. We were to be the stewards over this
earth and all the things within it-”
“We’re
doing alright,” I cut him off by saying.
“We
did fine?” He asks rhetorically, “let me ask you this, do you
remember children on reality television, William?”
“Of
course I do.” Reality television had been a huge part of
entertainment before the outbreak. Even though I couldn’t bring
myself to watch the smut, you couldn’t entirely escape it.
“I
want you to imagine the earth as a child, on a reality television
show.”
“Alright,”
I respond, although I couldn’t divine the slightest indication of
where this was headed.
“Do
you think the parents, the stewards, of these reality children were
protecting them? Were they teaching any lessons?”
“How
to make money on television,” I say, and chuckle. I imagine that
I’ve evened the repartee score with this quip. The man through the
veil doesn’t seem to have registered my verbal jab.
“Some
of them did, yes,” he continues. “But with that lesson came
avarice. These children were taught vanity. These children were
taught to hate, to cheat, to do whatever they need to do in order to
win these faux contests. The children, having received these lessons
were irrevocably changed. Would you call this responsible parenting?
Would you say that these children were inspired to become responsible
parents themselves? Is this model sustainable?”
“Well,
no, of course it’s not. But that’s reality television; one in a
million children gets on a show like that.” I can’t say that the
effect of the metaphor is lost on me, the shows were shameless, but
it does seem like a strange connection to be drawing.
“Now,
imagine the Lord, looking down upon the species that he gave one task
to. These people with whom he entrusted his world glorifying this
sort of behavior in one another. The vainest were the most coveted,
the greedy were exalted, the heaviest exploiters became the role
models. It was an unsustainable model, and God stepped in. If you
were a parent, could you say that you’d have acted any
differently?” His earlier questions now make sense, the father
meant to get me to say that I’d not be able to find a flaw in the
logic of God.
“I
would never kill a child,” I say.
“Do
you have children of your own, William?”
“No,”
I respond. “Never really had time for a wife, I guess.” I say
hoping that the lie will not register with the father.
The
father takes a deep breath behind the screen and continues, “Then
how could you possibly understand? This is not one child’s
disobedience, but a whole race of your own begotten fundamentally
corrupting all that you set out to build.”
“So,
this is the new flood?” I ask, although I think I know that this is
how this conversation will end.
“No,
it’s not.”
“What?”
I say breathlessly, I am perplexed. Everything to this point had
aligned to the flood being the conclusion of the father’s line of
logic.
“You
came in here to ask why the Lord wouldn’t step in to stop this
plague. I am unaware of, forgive me for an old man’s attempt at
humor, the genesis of this scourge. I can however, recognize the
reasoning behind our Father for not stopping it.” He finishes, and
silence fills the box for a full five seconds before I respond.
“Is
there a hope for life in this world?”
“You’re
in this box, are you not?” I can hear the grin again, even through
the veil. But this isn’t funny, and at this point I’m tired of
being batted around.
“You
know what I’m trying to say,” I spit towards the obscured man.
“Of
course I do,” he responds. “But, I’ve given you all that I can
on the subject.” There is silence again between us. I stand up,
furious, knocking my head against the top of the confessional. “Stay
healthy, and remember Matthew
6:34,
““do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of
its own. Today's trouble is enough for today.””
God bless you, William Taylor,” with these words he exhales
heavily. I stride quickly from the confessional. I say in a hushed
whisper under my breath,
“Prick,”
this word wasn’t as quiet as I had intended. I’m sure he could
hear me curse him, but I’m also certain that I couldn’t care any
less at this moment. 'Don't worry about the trouble of tomorrow until
tomorrow?' How in the fuck am I supposed to sleep soundly knowing
that there are packs of the dead wandering around, waiting for me to
let my guard down? 'Reality TV?' That was hackneyed, that was
childish. As I’m walking towards the doors of the church, I see the
mercenary again. He holds out a packet of American Spirit Yellow
cigarettes.
“Fancy
one for the road?” He asks, grinning idiotically at me. He’s
taunting me. He knows that I’m a doctor, that I’ll refuse, that
I’ll tell him off for wasting what little life is left in this
place, and that he’ll get to deliver some two-cent quip about
enjoying what little we have.
“Love
one. Will you join me?” I respond, and his eyes light up. We walk
together outside of the church, and he slings his modified AK over
his shoulder to accept his pack of smokes. He hands me a lighter.
It’s a zippo that has faux gold plating. Engraved on the outside of
the lighter are the words ‘O for a Muse of Fire.’ Having a zippo
with engravings isn’t an odd occurrence, everyone and their mothers
had one from the beginning of the outbreak. I
remember during the first weeks of the outbreak, the companies which
produced lighters would engrave your loved one’s names into your
device. Some things seem so meaningless, and yet, having a piece of a
loved one close to you in times of struggle means the world.
“O
for a Muse of Fire?” I ask him, not knowing what to expect.
“Henry
V,
never got to it?” He asks in a matter-of-fact manner.
“I’m
sure I must have in undergrad, but no, I can’t say that I remember
it.” I can’t believe I’m being intellectually out-shined by a
mercenary, I suppose it’s a day for firsts. “Where did you serve,
sir?”
“I
didn’t,” he responds.
“You
didn’t serve anywhere?” I ask.
“I
taught, I was an English teacher,” he says, puffing away heavily.
“A
teacher... how did you wind up in this line of work?”
“Everyone
has to do their part, right? I taught Shakespeare, mostly, but some
Sunday school classes here and there as well. That life’s over,
though. We all do what we have to do. There’s got to be somebody to
put these Z’s down, and folks seem to still like coming to this
place.” He takes a puff on his American Spirit.
“This
church is still well visited?” I ask.
“You
get to the Book of Daniel, with the man in the box?”
“No,”
I tell him.
“““There
shall be a time of anguish... but at that time your people shall be
delivered... Many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall
awake.”” Paraphrasing a bit there, but this used to be my thing.
I think that's the gist of it,” He says.
“And
that's about the infected, not a judgement?” I ask him.
“Of
course it's about judgement, but people come here to be comforted,
not to hear the truth. But it's never been about the truth, you see.
This is all they have, and if it keeps them alive, I don't begrudge
them for it. That's why I'm here,” he takes one last puff on his
American Spirit, and stomps it out on the pavement.
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Apparently humans crave this stuff the way zombies crave human flesh. If you're a beer drinker, read on. And if you're not a beer drinker, read on and then become a beer drinker (responsibly, of course...) I was on the prowl for something cool to write about for this final blog post and I was lucky to come across "Zombie Dust," a beer made by the Three Floyds Brewing Company out of Munster, Indiana. This product obviously caught my interest so I started digging a bit, and it turns out this is one of the better beers out there. I was skeptical at first and figured that it's ratings and the hype surrounding it on the various websites I looked at were based on just a couple of voters who are into zombies and what not, but that wasn't the case at all. It was rated 100 (out of 100) on RateBeer.com and this was based on nearly 700 votes. Slightly more impressive, it was rated 100 on BeerAdvocate.com, this time based off of a mere 3,000 ratings, which puts it in the category of a world-class beer. Needless to say, this stuff is the bomb. However, seeing as we're not taking a brewing class, I thought it important to recognize the zombie side of Zombie Dust.What excited me about this beer is how zombie culture is consistently and persistently making its presence seen in everyday society, even in ways I've never encountered. As we've discussed in class, zombieism has a foothold in today's culture. Whether it's through television, film, literature, or through products like Zombie Dust, American culture seems to have a keen interest in zombies and zombie-related products. This is the first time I've personally seen any type of zombie-related alcohol, and knowing there is such a thing is pretty exciting. Then to learn that it's really good was even better, but we all know that anything zombie related is always amazing. Reading through some other blog posts from the class I've learned about other products that are centered around the zombie phenomenon and it's clear that zombie interest is not only present in our culture but flourishing.
The folks at Three Floyds Brewing Company describe this beer by saying that, "this intensely hopped and gushing undead pale ale will be ones only respite after the zombie apocalypse. Created with our marvelous friends in the comic industry." I think it's cool that they wanted to create a zombie theme with this beer. It's their most popular and well-thought-of beer and they wanted to put an undead spin on it. What's funny to me is how some reviews describe it:
- "Holy sh*t, it's like being slapped in the face with citrus, tropical, and pine blast."
- "The beer poured a nearly crystal clear, golden-amber."
- "I would drink this every day if it was possible. Seek out this beer and savor every sip."
Good aroma's and bright colors aren't things we normally associate with zombies but Zombie Dust manages to do it. So, if you come across this beer at any point, know that it's hard to come by and that it's amazing and pick some up. Honestly, what could be cooler than getting drunk off something called Zombie Dust?
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I spent all this semester looking at the class material through the perspective of the zombie. I had to come to the realization that there is not much redeemable about the zombie in most cases. The only two exceptions from the material we had in class is Warm Bodies and Delice (where the zombie is used to murder an evil person). Otherwise, I have to look at the zombie as an evil plague on humanity that is there to destroy it. I had become complacent with my place as a damned being hellbent on destroying humanity, until I started thinking about being a zombie in a slightly different perspective. That perspective being Christianity.
I started thinking about the catholic canon of beliefs about Armageddon. I came to the conclusion that I, as a zombie, am not the damned scourge from hell. I am in fact the hand of God. The zombie plague can be looked at as the rapture. The good people are taken from this earth and the ones remaining are the heathens and non-believers. They are left to fend for themselves while God resurrects the dead (zombies) to wipe out the evil of mankind and establish a true kingdom of God on earth. Therefore, I am not an evil being, I am a soldier in the army of God trying to wipe out the remaining evil human scourge so we can bring a peaceful kingdom of God on earth.
Think about it. Zombies don't attack each other. Zombies don't get jealous. Zombies aren't mad when one zombie gets a little more food than another zombie. Zombies are content with what they have. Isn't this the idea of peace on earth? A world without the pain and anguish of greed, corruption, or power? Zombie is the utopian society we all wish and hope for. It is man who causes all the evil and corruption. Therefore, when the zombie apocalypse comes, I say embrace your zombie overlords and join the one true faith. You will be blessed with an eternity of happiness.....and BRAINS!!!
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Freud argued that in everyone's unconscious mind there is a constant force that causes an individual to want to live, and to produce life. This is why we want to have sex all the time. It's also why you can't kill yourself by holding your breath. At a certain point, some part of your unconscious decides you're being silly and takes control, forcing you to breath. Your mind wants you to live, so you can go create more life. Freud's theory however, like most of his theories, is more complicated than that. He argued that there was an opposing force present in our unconscious mind, that of the death drive. This is, simply put, a desire to destroy everything, including ourselves. It's a simple wish to return complex things to base forms. Freud thought that part of the death drive manifested itself in aggression, accounting for most of the world's woes. Everything from flying a plane into a building to smashing your brother's sandcastle is basically an outlet for the death drive. While these are most likely unhealthy ways to divert the death drive, there are others. I assert that our cultural obsession with the Apocalypse, and specifically zombies, has something to do with Freud's theory.
The Apocalypse, in our cultural imagination at least, is some horrific event in which most, or all of the people on the planet die. This could be due to a meteor, alien invasion, robot uprising, divine intervention, zombies, or mutant molemen. It doesn't really matter. All that matters is the fact that millions of people are obsessed with the thought that at any moment some catastrophic event could kill everyone they loved. But not them. When someone envisions the Apocalypse, I would argue that they almost never picture themselves dying. It's always, "How would I deal with being one of the survivors?" This shows the life drive still in play, but it doesn't quite explain secretly hoping billions of people were dead.
I think our obsession with the world's end is just a way to divert our death drive onto something other than ourselves. I would say the same thing about violent video games. Without actually hurting other people, we are able to fantasize about death on a monumental scale. This fantasy satisfies our actual cravings, which are inherently violent, and allows us to go on functioning in society.
Zombies are an interesting manifestation of the Apocalypse. They are the most blunt version of Death we could envision (dead people walking), and I think this is why they are so popular. We picture ourselves slashing through a zombie head, or mowing them down with machine gun fire, and think nothing of it. They aren't alive, after all. We may even picture ourselves as happy to be in the Zombie Apocalypse, as it allows us the freedom to run around like a lunatic and kill everything that moves. Are we thankful to the zombies? Are we glad that they wiped out humanity? I think .001 people, if asked, would say they would be actually thankful if zombies wiped out humanity. On the other hand, zombies are their own genre now, with TV shows, movies, reproductions of classic novels, survival guides, etc. At what point does obsession become hope? And what does this hope mean? Unfortunately, the only way to really answer this question is to live through the Apocalypse, and that's probably not gonna happen is it?
[...]
The Apocalypse, in our cultural imagination at least, is some horrific event in which most, or all of the people on the planet die. This could be due to a meteor, alien invasion, robot uprising, divine intervention, zombies, or mutant molemen. It doesn't really matter. All that matters is the fact that millions of people are obsessed with the thought that at any moment some catastrophic event could kill everyone they loved. But not them. When someone envisions the Apocalypse, I would argue that they almost never picture themselves dying. It's always, "How would I deal with being one of the survivors?" This shows the life drive still in play, but it doesn't quite explain secretly hoping billions of people were dead.
I think our obsession with the world's end is just a way to divert our death drive onto something other than ourselves. I would say the same thing about violent video games. Without actually hurting other people, we are able to fantasize about death on a monumental scale. This fantasy satisfies our actual cravings, which are inherently violent, and allows us to go on functioning in society.
Zombies are an interesting manifestation of the Apocalypse. They are the most blunt version of Death we could envision (dead people walking), and I think this is why they are so popular. We picture ourselves slashing through a zombie head, or mowing them down with machine gun fire, and think nothing of it. They aren't alive, after all. We may even picture ourselves as happy to be in the Zombie Apocalypse, as it allows us the freedom to run around like a lunatic and kill everything that moves. Are we thankful to the zombies? Are we glad that they wiped out humanity? I think .001 people, if asked, would say they would be actually thankful if zombies wiped out humanity. On the other hand, zombies are their own genre now, with TV shows, movies, reproductions of classic novels, survival guides, etc. At what point does obsession become hope? And what does this hope mean? Unfortunately, the only way to really answer this question is to live through the Apocalypse, and that's probably not gonna happen is it?
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I'm going to assume most of you have some basic knowledge of Battlestar Galactica. I attempted to watch the original series, but gave up, favoring the reimagined version that aired this past decade. In the event that any of you are unfamiliar, or would just like a refresher, please follow the link. It's short, and it includes the awesome music. By the way, the same gentleman who does the music for this series, Bear McCreary, does the music for Walking Dead. And is super handsome.
Now that we're all on the same page, I'll give my own rundown, since that trailer just gives you a taste of the goodness to come, without really explaining much. Humanity has been living on 12 colonies, these colonies being planets, with names like Sagittaron, Tauron, Picon, and most importantly, Caprica, where all the major players in the show call home. It's sort of the cream-of-the-crop planet, where all the money and stuff comes from, the America (sort of) of the colonies. Excuse the digression.
So! Cylons are machines, created by man, who do stuff for us, like build things, wipe our butts, protect us, whatever. Then they began to have thoughts, feelings, opinions about their status, and ultimately it ends in civil war, man against cylon, blood and chrome (little nod to the new show intended, anybody seen it?) This fella is the new version of one of them.
Ultimately, the cylons disappear deep into space, across some boundary. 40 years pass, and the Cylon Wars are thought to be over. Until, of course, the cylons come back, better than ever, having evolved while they were away to look like humans. Incredibly perfect humans, at least Model 6. She was the gal in the clip with the blonde hair and red dress you may have seen biting the shaggy-haired gentleman.
They were created by man. They rebelled. And now they've come back to snuff us out. At the show's beginning, due to bombing and sneaky cylon tactics, the human race is reduced to 50,000 or so survivors, who go on the run in a ship called Battlestar Galactica. What's worse, cylons look like US now. Hot US, but us. Makes them harder to detect.
The original cylons were made of machine parts, and were basically walking computers. The next step in the cylon evolution makes them much more interesting. These folks are made of organic machinery, which means biomechanical skeletal structures, muscles, organs. They're built like humans, using human DNA. They also have superhuman strength and can do things like Project (pronounced pro-JECT). I won't get into it here, but it's awesome.
At this point, whoever has gotten this far in the reading is surely going, "Ok, great, now get to how this applies to zombies."
1)The cylons were created by man. In some scenarios, the zombies were also created by man, either by Vodou (Delice), or science (28 Days/Weeks/Years Later).
2)They rebelled. the cylons rebelled against their creators, it was essentially a slave rebellion. I will argue here, because I want to, that zombies are rebelling against original human nature by feasting on live humans. They typically do not rebel against each other, apparently they only want the freshest meats, and for that I can't blame them. Although in Aimee Bender's Among Us, there is the parable (fable? are zombies animals? definitions can be flexible in this case) of the zombie eating other zombies and becoming just the eating anatomy. So cool.
3)They want to wipe us out. Although perhaps unintentionally, as far as we can observe, zombies appear to not want to live beside us. We are their food source. They don't seem to care that if they eat all of us, they won't have anything left to eat. But it doesn't appear that they even care about being less hungry, only that they are actively hungry. They don't get full. They just keep going, shark-like. I just relearned that sharks die if they stop swimming. Do zombies die if they stop eating/shambling? Eventually? Hard to tell. We also don't know how old sharks get, as in, how long they live. How long would zombies live, assuming they are actually decomposing, which much of the amazing special effects tell us they do?
4) They're really strong. Most zombies are really hard to fight off. They may have rotten pumpkin skulls, which are apparently easy to puncture with a good steak knife, or hack in half with a Samurai sword (still my favorite part of ANY Walking Dead episode, don't care what's happening), but they seem strong in the way that a creature unable to feel muscle/joint/bone strain is strong, with a disregard for their own bodily limitations.
5)They are governed by rules different from human ones. In terms of the uncanny aspect of zombie nature, they are frightening because they are unnatural. So, too, are cylons, because they operate beyond their programming, for reasons that are unknown and illogical to us. The cylons themselves believe they have souls, which is another interesting part of the show. They have a different religion than humans. While humans believe in the multiple gods of Kobol (origin planet), cylons believe in a One True God. Part of why the war is so ferocious, as it is partially a Holy War. Or perhaps fundamentally.
6) They don't need to eat or drink to survive. Whatever is keeping both cylons and zombies alive, it's not food or water. They run on willpower.
7) Destroy the brain. The first round of cylons, the heavily mechanized non-human ones, can only be killed with a shot to the head. And often it has to be an exploding round. Zombies, obviously same thing. New round of cylons, because they're more like humans, can be killed in humanish ways, they're just harder to catch or beat arm-wrestling.
8) They're not to be reasoned with. Metal cylons, the ones least like us (think Warm Bodies, or Zone One) just want to mess up your day. You cannot talk them out of it. Does not compute. They are programmed, by us or by nature, to obey that programming, which is kill or eat people. If you ask them to stop, they will use their fancy arm-weaponry or ghoulish grill to end you.
9) It's hard to tell how they can sense you. Cylons have this bar across where their eyes would be that has a red light that slides back and forth. Is it like radar? Is it showing images into its cylon brain? Is it like sonar? They also don't have ears. Or a nose. So how do they know we're there? Same for zombies. In The Naturalist, the zombies don't seem to be able to hear, although they seem to sense heat, and are drawn to fire. They can't observe something past the fire, but they do know when a human-type entity is near. Maybe we give off a certain kind of heat.
So which monster (I use the word loosely, as I think cylons are rather handsome, in the way that skyscrapers are handsome, or my cell phone) is more unsettling? Personally, cylons are truly terrifying, as they seem more plausible. Just look at the robotics coming out of Japan. The last episode of Battlestar shows lots of examples of current day robots, doing servile things like giving drinks on a platter, or dancing together on stage, or speaking. It's eery, in a Matrix-y way, to think that we may very well bring about our own doom, the machines taking our place in the great order of things. We cannot forever assume we will be the dominant life force on this planet, and certainly not in space. Zombies, on the other hand, seem highly implausible, the dead coming to life and wanting to eat us seems silly.
Any thoughts?
Also, if I got any of my Battlestar info wrong, please, please correct me.
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To be completely honest, it has been a struggle to find a worthy topic to blog about. Everything I can think of has been meticulously picked over by classmates and with my spring-semester-zombified-drooling-at-my-desk-state, I found little to actually blog about.
So then I watched the first episode of the Walking Dead, again. I watched the perfectly bearded Rick saunter into a lawless Atlanta on horseback, discover huge mobs of Zombies, and flee into the confines of a M1 Abrams tank, its not actually an Abrams, but it was dressed up to look like one, so im going with it. But still, IT WAS A TANK.
Im not saying Rick could drive the damn thing, but how did it come to be in that position in the first place? Certainly, there are loads of factors that could be considered: maybe it was quickly overrun, maybe it ran out of gas, or was unwilling to fire on civilians and infected targets, etc. Still, the Abrams can be completely sealed, can travel up to 45mph, gets roughly 265mpg, a main gun, four extra lmgs (large machine gun) and has a crew of four. So it got me thinking...
Now, I completely understand that one of the founding principles of the Zombie genre is the complete destruction of military and any other kind of organized armed response. After all, thats what makes survivors so unique and compelling characters; they are on their own. The cavalry is not charging over the next hill.
Now turning our attention to notable Zombe works and class discussions, do you think the military/defense/police would be eradicated if there was a Zombie apocalypse now?
Zone One- The Marines and Army are mentioned as effectively clearing Zone One of all the walkers, yet as the end of the book suggests, nothing stops the dead. The wall is overrun, the other 'Pheenie' holdouts go dark, and the Zombies take back the city. Zombies 1- Humanity-0
Walking Dead- No clear military presence, everything appears to be overrun. Atlanta and the CDC episode both display scenes of failed defenses. The Governor kills a band of National Guardsmen, but they admit they have been cut off for weeks. Zombies 1 vs. Humanity .5 (Some survived, well, until the Governator.)World War Z- The Battle of Yonkers was a complete failure for the US military. Cold war tactics and the 'advanced battle net' result in a widely publicized disaster. Eventually after the Honolulu conference, the military (heavily augmented by civilians) regains control of the continent by producing a cost effective rifle SIR and the lobo-thing, while fighting in regulated premodern infantry squares. The war is somewhat over and post Zack-World learns to cope with the Zombie threat. Humanity 1 vs. Zombies .5- Undersea Zombies= terrifying.
THIS IS NOT A TEST- Had to dig deep to remember this, no mention of the military, right? Between the whole tween romance and survival bit, I dont recall any passages addressing this. That said, I think the zombies in this book are easily the most powerful/effective. Humanity 0 vs. Zombies 1.
Pride and Prejudice and Zombies- Between the Kill Bill-esque vibe and the gentrified love triangles, the militia was mentioned on numerous occasions. Fighting the good fight and all that, Britain Soldiers On!
Humanity 1 vs. Zombies .5- I would have called it a tie, as the war is still ongoing, but Ill call it a wedding gift and give it to humanity.
Final Score-
Zombies 4 vs. Humanity 2.5.
Damnit. We lost.
Disclaimer-
This is based off of my completely arbitrary scoring system and I possibly could have miscounted. Im not going back to check. Feel free to dispute.
Dont despair!
Showcasing the incredible proliferation of the Z genre, I came across two examples of governments and militaries preparing for worst, in the unlikely (read inevitable) event of the Zombie Apocalypse.
Britain- Owing to the freedom of information act, the Ministry of Defense has outlined a plan to be led by the Cabinet Office, to return England to its pre-attack glory.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/newstopics/howaboutthat/9721072/Britain-is-well-prepared-to-fight-apocalyptic-zombie-invasion.html
United States- Some security consulting company, named HALO corp., ran a Zombie training seminar in San Diego in October to run simulations of VIP escorts and mass hysteria. Quite a production it seems. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/10/29/zombie-apocalypse-trainining-military-halo-corp-_n_2036996.html
So, if this rambling blog post has proven anything, is that there are multiple responses and outcomes in the event of the Zombie apocalypse. Perhaps the military will be completely annihilated like Zone One? Or maybe it will struggle to survive, ultimately rising from the ashes, as we've seen in Brook's World War Z? Or maybe all we need to do is hole up in the Winchester, grab a pint, and wait for the army to save the day, as it happend in Shaun of the Dead?
Thoughts?
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Struggling with finding that perfect gift for your favorite soon-to-be UVM grad? Well - Demeter Fragrances has released a new zombie inspired line of fragrances: Zombie for Him, and Zombie for Her. Could be perfect! Plus the bottles are suuuper pretty...
Demeter Fragrances describes Zombie for Him as "a combination of dried leaves, mushrooms, mildew, moss and earth." And Zombie for Her as basically the same thing but with "dregs from the bottom of the wine barrel for a feminine touch." This Huffington Post article is less enthusiastic about how these zombie fragrances could possibly smell nice. The men's version "smells a lot like the volcano exhibit at the New Mexico Museum of Natural History and Science." (Definitely just New Mexico's museum and not any other.) And the women's "smells like grass, but not fresh smelling grass. It's more like the lawn clippings that have been sitting in trash bags for weeks because nobody wants to lug those things to the curb to be picked up." But with wine, because women smell like wine, right?
So, I know that the zombie craze is gaining speed and popularity, and it's definitely a market to cash in on, so I don't fault Demeter for coming up with something like this... but really? I'm so curious about how well this product is going to do. And I honestly want to know - would you buy this? Would you buy it because it's a zombie perfume, and it's kind of funny, and we're all in a zombie class? Would you buy it because you think it could come in handy when the zombie breakout begins and we can all try out The Walking Dead method of disguising our human scent? (Provided it doesn't rain.)
Is this zombie craze just going to turn into the next teeny-bopper fad like that Twilight thing? I hope not, but possibly. That's where all the money is, right?
[...]
Demeter Fragrances describes Zombie for Him as "a combination of dried leaves, mushrooms, mildew, moss and earth." And Zombie for Her as basically the same thing but with "dregs from the bottom of the wine barrel for a feminine touch." This Huffington Post article is less enthusiastic about how these zombie fragrances could possibly smell nice. The men's version "smells a lot like the volcano exhibit at the New Mexico Museum of Natural History and Science." (Definitely just New Mexico's museum and not any other.) And the women's "smells like grass, but not fresh smelling grass. It's more like the lawn clippings that have been sitting in trash bags for weeks because nobody wants to lug those things to the curb to be picked up." But with wine, because women smell like wine, right?
So, I know that the zombie craze is gaining speed and popularity, and it's definitely a market to cash in on, so I don't fault Demeter for coming up with something like this... but really? I'm so curious about how well this product is going to do. And I honestly want to know - would you buy this? Would you buy it because it's a zombie perfume, and it's kind of funny, and we're all in a zombie class? Would you buy it because you think it could come in handy when the zombie breakout begins and we can all try out The Walking Dead method of disguising our human scent? (Provided it doesn't rain.)
Is this zombie craze just going to turn into the next teeny-bopper fad like that Twilight thing? I hope not, but possibly. That's where all the money is, right?
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We all know that AMC's The Walking Dead is about zombies. It says it right in the name. If someone
were to ask you what the best zombie TV show is, you'd probably immediately say The Walking Dead because there aren't any other zombie TV shows. False. At it's core, Game of Thrones is about zombies. The first scene of the pilot episode shows a dead child walking around all blue-eyed and frosty mouthed. I think it's time to compare and contrast.
1. Apocalypse Progress
The Walking Dead: This show starts out with Rick waking up in a hospital and stumbling outside to learn that civilization has fallen apart and most people on the planet are dead. He also realizes that most of the people on the planet that are dead are walking around trying to kill the living. This causes Rick, and everyone else that survived the outbreak to have to change the way they live, and deal with the societal, emotional, and psychological effects of the apocalypse. These characters have to adapt to a harsh world where none of the normal rules apply.
Game of Thrones: This show starts out in a similar manner; characters realizing there are forces that can bring the dead back to life, and not in the Jesus way. Problem is, nobody believes the guy that saw the zombie and they behead him. There are however, hints that something really bad is going to happen in the not-so-distant future. Winter is Coming is a phrase commonly heard in the show, and in the books it's made more apparent that winters last a long time in Westeros, years and years. While the characters in The Walking Dead have had the world they knew ripped away from them, the people in GoT have the chance to prevent this apocalypse.
2. Zombies
The Walking Dead: These zombies are more or less the typical model. Slow, dumb, intent on eating flesh, yadayada, etc. There isn't an explanation as to why they're around, but it's shown that everyone who dies becomes one. When alone, they don't present too much of a threat, however in groups they can be devastating. They can be tricky to kill as they have to be de-brained, however they are very predictable, to the point where they can be used for certain purposes. A large problem with these zombies is the fact that everyone turns when they die. Death is unavoidable, and so it seems are zombies.
GoT: These zombies are a horse of a different weight class. They are closer to the traditional voodou model, as they are resurrected by the magic of their masters. These zombies are much more dangerous, as they can be controlled to do whatever the White Walkers want. They can wield weapons and sneak up on people and their motives aren't so base. They are also more difficult to kill. Instead of whacking them on the noggin, they must die by fire. While in modern times there are lighters, gasoline, and even flamethrowers, in a medieval world like GoT creating fire is more of a process, and wouldn't always be practical if you were ambushed.
3. Humans
The Walking Dead: In this world, humans were for the most part good, with a few bad eggs. After the apocalypse happened though, they were forced to become more selfish and to give up some of their humanity in order to survive. People like the Governor have risen to power because the apocalypse has hardened them. Even the good guys like Rick and Michonne have no problems abandoning a helpless hitchhiker to his death, simply because they did not know him.
GoT: Humans in this world have had a much rougher go than those in the Walking Dead. Save the lords and ladies, most people are poor and live the hard lives of those before technology really caught on. Murder and rape are a pretty common factor, and as such there are lots of bad guys and the good guys usually end up getting punished for their actions. For example, Ned Stark gets beheaded for telling the truth, and Jaime Lannister gets his hand chopped off for trying to help Brienne(he may not be the typical good guy, but he's not that bad). If life's this hard now, imagine how shitty it will be when the zombies come.
These two shows are very different in style, themes, and pretty much everything else except that they both have zombies, and even the zombies are pretty different. However, they are both about zombies at the core. Hopefully George R.R. Martin and Robert Kirkman(less likely) don't die before they finish their series', and if they do, hopefully they will come back as zombies and finish them.
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As a previous post stated, coming up with a topic for this final blog post was hard as it seems we've covered just about everything. So I did a little research (a.k.a. google searching) and found this somewhat troubling article: http://www.channel3000.com/news/-Zombies-game-blamed-for-two-UW-campus-gun-reports/-/1648/19813958/-/ld10ylz/-/index.html . Its title reads, "'Zombies' game blamed for two UW campus gun reports." Students at the University of Wisconsin-Madison have come up with their own tradition of playing a tag-like game called "Humans Versus Zombies." The game entails participants running around with bandannas around their heads and wielding Nerf guns. Apparently, a few spectators mistook the toy guns for real guns and called 911, thinking they were about to witness a school shooting. UW police arrived on the scene only to find students wielding toy guns, and were understandably outraged at this waste of resources. They are concerned that, especially in light of the recent bombing in Boston, that such a game will only alarm non-participants and lead to further misappropriation of resources.
It isn't hard to understand where the UW police are coming from; imagine if a real public danger were to arise when they were responding to a misguided report about nerf guns? However, I think that the pros of this 'Zombies' game and what it represents far outweigh the cons. If the students of UW were to cease playing this game due to recently heightened awareness of public threats, it would simply be caving in, and contributing, to a collective consciousness of fear. This might be somewhat of a stretch, but I thought that this article exemplified some of the points that Sara Sutler-Cohen sheds light on in "Plans Are Pointless". Sutler-Cohen demonstrates how it is that zombies have evolved, in popular culture that is, to become part of a survivor narrative, rather than simply a representation of total apocalypse. If the UW police were to put an end to the "Zombies Versus Humans" game, as is implied might happen in the article, their actions would be more in line with the now obsolete conception that zombies are the end-all be-all harbingers of the apocalypse. The police, regardless of their motivation, would be treating the "zombies" as a threat, rather than a manageable problem. As Sutler-Cohen points out, we are well beyond this; zombies are here to stay and we, including the UW police, must come to terms with this fact.
On a practical note, rather than demand that the students end this tradition, which has grown to include over 250 participants, I think a much more positive solution would be for the participants to go to greater lengths to publicize the nature of this event. That way, spectators will not mistake their toy guns for real ones and police forces will be where they are needed most.
[...]
It isn't hard to understand where the UW police are coming from; imagine if a real public danger were to arise when they were responding to a misguided report about nerf guns? However, I think that the pros of this 'Zombies' game and what it represents far outweigh the cons. If the students of UW were to cease playing this game due to recently heightened awareness of public threats, it would simply be caving in, and contributing, to a collective consciousness of fear. This might be somewhat of a stretch, but I thought that this article exemplified some of the points that Sara Sutler-Cohen sheds light on in "Plans Are Pointless". Sutler-Cohen demonstrates how it is that zombies have evolved, in popular culture that is, to become part of a survivor narrative, rather than simply a representation of total apocalypse. If the UW police were to put an end to the "Zombies Versus Humans" game, as is implied might happen in the article, their actions would be more in line with the now obsolete conception that zombies are the end-all be-all harbingers of the apocalypse. The police, regardless of their motivation, would be treating the "zombies" as a threat, rather than a manageable problem. As Sutler-Cohen points out, we are well beyond this; zombies are here to stay and we, including the UW police, must come to terms with this fact.
On a practical note, rather than demand that the students end this tradition, which has grown to include over 250 participants, I think a much more positive solution would be for the participants to go to greater lengths to publicize the nature of this event. That way, spectators will not mistake their toy guns for real ones and police forces will be where they are needed most.
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Yesterday I was stressing over what to write for my last blog post. I couldn’t think of anything to say that hadn’t already been said; we’ve covered quite a lot of ground in the last semester, and I didn’t feel like I had anything new to contribute. My brain was fried, or rather, zombified. For a few moments I thought about throwing together something, anything just to get my last post over and done with. Instead I went to sleep. I’m kind of glad I did, even though it means that this post is now, officially, late.
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I’m in a book club. Our current read is a book called “The Tipping Point,” by a fellow called Malcom Gladwell. Thursday night, I had been reading the book prior to turning out the lights, and pieces of Gladwell’s ideas were still swimming around in the back of my head as I was drifting off. Somewhere in that mystical state between sleep and awake, I started to make some connections. To give you a brief summary, the premise of “the Tipping Point,” is that change doesn’t happen in a gradual, linear way, but instead eventually reaches a “tipping point,” at which change happens rapidly and drastically, often creating unexpected phenomena and radical transformations. Gladwell describes the Tipping Point as the “the moment of critical mass, the threshold, the boiling point” (12). It’s also a way of thinking that proposes that “ideas and products and messages and behaviors spread just like viruses do,” (Gladwell, 7) that in fact, many of the changes we witness in our society, are in essence, a kind of epidemic.
Thus, in my sleepy, half-dream state, certain lines from “Plans are Pointless,” started resonating in my head along with the bits from Gladwell’s book, particularly the idea that the Zombie is the “New Vampire,” and further, that the zombie “may be demonstrative of collective cultural anxieties of the day” (Sutlet-Cohen, 191). For whatever reason, it seems that zombies are relevant in today’s world. They have purchase here, in our society, at this particular moment. I began to wonder – if Zombies are the “New Vampire,” when was the “tipping point?” and how did it happen? Why zombies? Why now?
In Kyle Bishop’s article, “Dead Man Still Walking,” he posits that a zombie invasion hits closer to home for most Americans
“Because of the aftereffects of war, terrorism, and natural disasters so closely resemble the scenarios depicted by zombie cinema, such images of death and destruction have all the more power to shock and terrify a population that has become otherwise jaded to more traditional horror films. The most telling barometer of this modern age, therefore is to be found not in the romanticized undead protagonist of Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight series (2005-2008)…but in the unstoppable hoards of the zombie invasion narrative” (Bishop, 12).
This idea is further supported by the increasing use of zombies as a cultural metaphor to describe and explain ideas as diverse as banks reliant on government funds (zombie banks), to court cases (as described in Sutherland and Swan's "Corporate Zombies" essay) and computers, to, as one of the previous blog posters pointed out, the differences between modern Republicans and Democrats.
But why is the cultural climate now any different than other periods throughout modern history? When did this obsession with zombies all start? The suggestion in Sutler-Cohen’s article seemed to be that the current “Zombie Renaissance” as it were, began post 9/11. After researching a little, it seems that most scholars who study zombies and popular culture agree that 9/11 set off a stream of zombie films and media that has continued throughout the decade. In 2007, Peter Dendle, a zombie scholar at the University of Pennsylvania, published an article entitled “The Zombie as a Barometer of Cultural Anxiety.” In it he posits that zombies generally experience a resurgence during times of economic hardship, war, and other forms of societal stress. For instance, prior to 9/11, the last few times zombies have experienced such marked popularity was in the 1930’s (Great Depression), and in the 1960s (Vietnam War), respectively. Thus it seems that we can get a “read” on the state of the nation by looking at the number of zombie films made in a given year or span of years; zombie films, it appears, are a hallmark of bad times. Unsurprisingly, the reverse also seems to be true: the number of zombie films produced saw a noticeable decline during the halcyon era of the 1990s (Bishop, 12-14).
If we try to apply this information to the idea of the Tipping Point, things quickly become confusing. It’s difficult to say whether zombies are simply a reaction to certain stressors in society or whether zombie films were already becoming more popular, in a gradual way, until some series of events (such as 9/11) “tipped” the zombie film and transformed it into a cultural epidemic once more. Is the popularity and relevance of the zombie shifting to the rhythm of major events, or is there something to be said for the idea that certain small events or changes in cultural consciousness could “tip” the zombie from a B-movie interest to a blockbuster affair. Like I said, it’s hard to be sure.
Ironically, though, if the idea of the Tipping Point can be applied to the renewed interest and obsession with zombie films, literature and television, then the zombie genre has spread throughout our culture in much the same way that zombieism spreads in the context of those novels and films – like a virus. Something to think about.
Bibliography
Bishop, Kyle. American Zombie Gothic: The Rise and Fall (and Rise) of the Walking Dead in Popular Culture. Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland & Company, Inc. 2010. Online.
Bishop, Kyle. "Dead Man Still Walking." Journal of Popular Film and Television. 37.1 (2009): 16-25. Online.
Dendle, Peter. "The Zombie as a Barometer of Cultural Anxiety." Monsters and the Monstruous: Myths and Metaphors of Enduring Evil. Amsterdam: Rodopi, 2007. 45-57. Online.
Gladwell, Malcom. The Tipping Point. New York, NY: Little, Brown and, 2002. Print.
Sutler-Cohen, Sara. “Plans are Pointless: Staying Alive Is as Good as it Gets.” Zombies Are Us: Essays on the Humanity of the Walking Dead. McFarland & Company, Inc. 183-193. Print.
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http://usnews.nbcnews.com/_news/2013/04/19/17826502-an-empty-metropolis-bostonians-share-photos-of-deserted-streets?lite
Recently realized I am short one post. Anyway, I'm sure many of us have been following the events in Boston this morning. Aside from the reality of whats going on, I was struck by the images of a locked down Boston. It makes me wonder about the chaotic, wrecked highways/cities we have described in books like World War Z and Zone One(the great panic and Last nights especially). In Walking Dead we see miles of traffic jams, and in one flashback the violent chaos of Atlanta. Would there be panic in the streets, looting and violence, or would people take shelter and try to let law enforcement/the military handle the threat.
It could come down to how much warning people had. In big storms, it seems like violence breaks out in before it hits, as people try to get supplies or evacuate(and of course after, if supply lines aren't re-established). Whatever we may think about the government, people have a strong tendency to cede to authority/experts in emergencies, which in fairness is usually a good idea.
However, in the apocalypse, these systems have failed, or are in the process of collapsing. Would the sight of the dead rising, or even infected running in the streets induce panic and disregard for whatever containment measures were being attempted? Or would most people barricade themselves even tighter than brave the outside. Basically, do you think our cities would implode, or quietly rot? I mostly wonder about initial outbreak cities, since I think that once a zombie plague got going, panic would be the almost certain option in cities that weren't hit early on.
(obviously this post isn't about Boston in particular or the events still going on, I just found the photos of a city locked down through emergency procedures extremely interesting/thought-provoking)
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