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As I am a barely-recovered Goth teenager, and since the time of Halloween is coming upon us, and furthermore since you are a creep, let's talk creepy. While enduring previews for Shaun of the Dead (which let it be noted you, the self-proclaimed zombie expert, have yet to see, while I, someone with a true irrational fear of being ported back to the Stone Age with only a working cellphone, have a fully-formed Zombie Action Plan [ZAP©], and that fact [your not having seen that shit] severely erodes my faith in you as a Zombie Expert, for serious, Broomfield, you're like an OB/GYN who refuses to read about recent like OVARY DEVELOPMENTS, with about the same non-chance of getting near my cooch, so anyway), while enduring previews, we saw one for a new Michael Keaton number called White Noise about E.V.P., or Electronic Voice Phenomenon, that shit where when you play back tapes recorded in haunted houses you can hear the voices of the dead on the tape because they can interfere with the electromagnetic field, and all I have to say about that is FUCKING BITCHING. It looks rad. I LOVE ghost stories!! And yet Pants, my companion, cried a little bit, because even the preview scared her. So what I am very inefficiently asking is: Are you scared of spooks, Broomfield? Because fighting zombies is a very corporeal and messy thing, but ghosts, like scary scary sharks, don't give a fuck. I've seen some shit, and I'm not all that freaked out; but you, as previously mentioned, are a girl.
[10:09am pst]
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I love this idea: my rep as Zombie Expert somehow besmirched by delayed viewing of a movie. That's pure lunacy tunes -- like saying that my physician should have to repeat his last year of med school because he missed the season finale of ER. Puhlease. I've killed more zombies in my head than the biggest number you can write on a fortune cookie fortune (with a Sharpie and without using scientific notation). I've got more contingency plans than Deep Blue the night before a hot date with that cute little Vaio from down the street (they're going to the C: Drive-In; they may play disk doctor, runnin' a diagnostic to see if their software is compatible. Woop!)
Anyway it's not like I can unsee the undead films I have seen, most of which I've seen more times than you've cried listening to The Cure: Dawn of the Dead, good old Night of the Living Dead, Evil Dead II, Dan O'Bannon's original fast-moving-zombie flick Return of the Living Dead, Dead Alive, etc. I'm an expert for life. Um. For undeath.
Now I don't know what it is about that trailer for that Michael Keaton movie, but I'm right there with Pants -- that is some scary-ass shit. Maybe the tones remind me of The Ring (no pun intended there), and The Ring scared me much more than it had the right to. I think you've got me pegged: I prefer horror movies where you can fight back with a bat against the bad guys (the Alien franchise, any zombie flick) and I'm terrified by the untouchable (The Ring), intangible (Event Horizon), or dreamstate (Nightmare on Elm Street) evils. I don't care how slim my chances are against the corporeal malefactors, I just feel better swinging that bat. Mmmm... I just remembered my favorite horror flick bad guy: Damien Thorne from The Omen II -- his little limey moon-face was perpetually begging for a tire-iron touch-up. Whack!
[6:13pm est]
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You're right you're right you're right, sort of, mostly, about the movie; although I maintain that, given the paucity of existing zombie data, any and all representation and/or documentation of such an Event should be heavily studied (and don't even START with me about Haiti). But so: anyway: yeah: It is awesome, and made me really itch to apply bats to the noggins of a crowd, even of the un-undead: real people, like on my lunch break. I am too violent in Los Angeles, and work way too close to the Beverly Center, that giant American commercial abortion, not to feel a near-irresistable bimbo-clubbing urge. Imagine the gouts of silicon spraying forth from lips and titties, all over the façade of Armani Exchange! Imagine all the pools of lipgloss and collagen! SPLAT! Ha ha!
But then trundling right along: Do you even believe in ghosts, though? Because aren't you one of those can't-escape-Judaism-because-it's-genetic-but-are-really-an-atheist types? So how can you even be freaked out by something you don't believe in? Why do I even care about this? Hi, hi. Halloween is coming. What are you going to dress as?
[9:46am pst]
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(I'm dressing as a bee for halloween, because once you go bee, you never go back.)
I don't know about what I "believe in," because that concept is too weird and religiously fraught. But I don't think it necessarily follows that I wouldn't believe in ghosts because I don't believe in god. If ghosts are literal "souls," then I guess you're right, a belief in souls is required. But I think believing in ghosts, for most people, is not about belief qua belief. Like it's not an intellectual process, or a rational one (whereas belief in God very well could be, i'm sure you'll agree); belief in ghosts is more like acknowledging that you have ben scared pantsless by something that they couldn't see.
My experiences with what some people might call "the supernatural" or "the spirit world" or "I am a stupid hippie so punch me" or "ghosts" have always involved some combination of darkness, aloneness, sleep deprivation, and unfamiliar surroundings. The part of your brain that makes ghosts out of peripheral shadows must have served a useful evolutionary function, like i'm just guessing, but maybe early people who were cautious and aware of ghosts avoided darkness, made friends, got plenty of sleep, and stayed in safe places.
Sorry. You prolly wanted a gnarly ghost story from me. Well, next time I'll tell you about the ghost with five dicks who told my ear five secrets.
[5:59pm est]
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trouble started by claude le monde
September 30, 2004
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10:10 AM est •
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