Zombies are annoying.
Fucking annoying. And if you think this is some "trying to be hip" shit, fuck off. In the dawn of the craze I just laughed along with everyone when they were all zommed out. I loved Shawn of the Dead. I read The Zombie Survival Guide. I watched the George Romero movies because it's what I do, I watch all the movies. It's pointless to have an opinion on something I know nothing about.
I used to allow music to fall into that trap - I would assume I didn't like a band without ever listening to them, due to some some convoluted and irrelevant connection I made.
But that stems from the insecurity I had when I was a freshman in college and I pretended to like things so people would like me (Dave Matthews Band, Pink Floyd, Jimmy Buffet). Remember that episode of Full House where DJ pretends to like cars? It was like that. Obviously I learned nothing from FH. I also vehemently denied my love for Buffy the Vampire Slayer (before a rooster crows YOU WILL DENY ME THREE TIMES) and cheap fantasy. I wanted to be cool very, very badly.
I didn't want to be that girl I was in high school, harassed in the hallways, never dated anyone, ate lunch alone in a bathroom stall (Mean Girls really hit home for me). My closest friends didn't invite me to parties because I was so caustic and dorky. Then I found out some of my male friends called me "the dyke" behind my back because I "talk like a dude" and "play softball" they treated me like a novelty instead of a real person with feelings (of course I had a crush on two of them even thought they treated me terribly, why? Because teenagers are dumb. Like zombies.).
It took me a long time to get over stuff like that. I was shocked when someone wanted to spend time with me, terrified it was just to tease me. When someone actually seemed to enjoy my company I grew distressed and confused, because I was a worthless loser and I didn't deserve it.
I still have to re-convince myself every single day that my friends and co-workers aren't ashamed of me. So I repeat this: I am fucking awesome. If I say it enough, it will be true. Right?
How the fuck did I get here? Shit. Scroll up. What's the point? Right. Zombies.
So I tried really hard to squeeze myself into what I thought other people thought was cool, and then I realized: um, fuck those people. I came out of the closet as a Pink Floyd hater first, which I knew would get me the most vitriol. But I was educated. "Roger Waters has the worst voice ever. The only good songs are sung by David Gilmour, who is a dreamboat." And so on.
I was so fucking proud of myself. Became an authority. Did research, deduced my technical and emotional reactions and told everyone my conclusions. Absorbed myself in musical history and just basically ignored every song that came out from 2004-2010 unless someone literally shoved it down my throat. Got really into John Cale and Harry Nilsson. Hipster, right?
Zombies are annoying.
That whole digression illustrates three very important things:
- This anti-zombie thing is not a conclusion I arrived at willy-nilly. I watched a lot of shitty movies and one shitty TV show to make sure I was right. HOWEVER: I did it all under the assumption that I wouldn't like it. Which, of course, affects the outcome considerably.
- I really wanted to be a part of the zombie thing, because I love being a part of things, but...I couldn't feign interest. I've never been able to get into it.
- I now have a huge personal aversion to doing things just because other people do them, which is, of course, the nature of zombies.
So I like my apocalypses either (a) zombie-free or (b) clever to the point of insanity.
I like them slightly cheesy, gritty, and full of hopeful camaraderie.
I like rag-tag misfits, but the good kind, not the bitchy, whiny Glee kind (the thing about Glee is that NO ONE LIKES THOSE KIDS BECAUSE THEY'RE DICKS, not because they're singing homosexuals. This isn't 1997.)
I like my writing hyper self-aware or blissfully dismissive.
I like my heroes with defining characteristics other than "alive" and "outnumbered." I mean, the thought of a world of undead going about their day looking for flesh to eat is not a pleasant one and is surely mighty creepifiying, and I get the damn metaphor, guys.
But the real reason...okay. Breathe.
I don't talk about this because even thinking about it is giving me skin flares and that thing, you know, that thing where it feels like someone is squeezing your heart but so they can make juice out of it? That thing? What's it called? Fear.
That's how I feel about this. I can do this. This is me being vulnerable. Is admitting your fears showing vulnerability? Fuck yeah it is.
Cannibalism scares the piss out of me. The fucking piss. Have you ever seen Ravenous? God, I'm grossed out just thinking about it. Or Cannibal Holocaust? I watched that alone - oh, god, when...four years ago? But I read it was the most controversial movie ever so I had to watch it, I had to, and I literally threw up. Actual throw-upping. It happened. Kkkkaaahhhkkk. Nguah. Ngaaaaaah. Vom sounds. Breathe.
So it's not the zombies that scare me. It's what comes after them from a genre standpoint.
Zombies are just like, cannibal-lite. They're just a step below. Zombies + Human Centipede = SCARY HORROR CANNIBALISM HORROR GATEWAY OF FUCKING HORROR. I want the zombie shit to stop so the cannibal shit never starts, because once we mainstream cannibal horror movies I AM GOING TO HAVE STEADY, CONSTANT NIGHTMARES FOREVER AND I LIVE ALONE.
Now you know.