Our first installment focuses on the most obvious reason why zombie movies are so appealing...
It's fun taking out pent-up frustrations on family members and other worthless members of society.
Come on, admit it: you've wished your family members dead at least once in your life. Maybe it was the time mom smacked you when you spilled milk and sent you to bed without your liver and onions, and as soon as your bedroom door shut you whispered, "I wish God would take her in her sleep tonight."
And the next day she cooked you scrambled eggs and bacon and you loved her again--but the point remains: you wished your mother dead over trivial shit at a young age. That's a deep-seated instinct that never goes away, my friend.
Cut to a standard dilemma in every classic zombie movie since 1968's Night of the Living Dead: a character's brother or daughter is killed in a zombie epidemic, has a brief moment of peace, then opens their milky eyes and suddenly lunges after them with a garden trowel. Surprise!
It's you or them, dear reader. You don't want to kill Uncle Rudy, you have to. But what your inner self is actually whispering is, "Now you get to."
The primary reason why zombie flicks are so awesome is because you live out the fantasy of putting a bullet in the brain of the brother who teased you incessantly, the roommate who stuck you with a $1,500 phone bill from porn calls,* or the teacher who ridiculed you in front of the class for not knowing pi to the tenth decimal.
Or, as pictured, the birthday clown who once creeped you out and gave you nightmares and a life-long unpredictable bladder. Usually triggered by Ronald McDonald making parade appearances.
* True story. Sadly.
5 comments:
First of all, I would never run out of things to talk about if the topic was "Why John Mayer Is a Tool." Second of all, if I was drunk - again - and Dr. Zibbs was hogging the bathroom, well, I think we would have a completely different topic on our hands. Like "Why is McGone pissing in my mailbox?"
Rider, first of all, I'm glad that YOU'RE not a zombie. I was having doubts because you haven't posted anything since March. As for not having anything to say at parties, Now I know.
I thought they didn't let you into Blogger parties without the hoodie.
You forgot one other person that you've always wanted to shoot: the neighbor that greets you with "hey-diddly-ho, neighbor-roony!"
This is just rather disturbing, really.
And McGone, you don't want to know what happens to the degenerates who attempt to piss in our mailbox.
McGone: You and I would never run out of topics. Haven't we killed an hour comparing notes on other bloggers?
Dr Zibbs: I have a feeling if you were at a party, you'd be chatting up a plant or trying to grab piranha in an aquarium while the rest of us avoided eye contact.
MJenks: You had to bring up the hoodie, huh? Why not squirt lemon juice in my eye?
Significant Other: Hi, schmoopie! I'll be home from my visionquest when the fall TV season begins. Miss you.
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