Chris Dorne
Yes, I'm going to get into the maze of this issue. Why? Because it's complicated, and I have an opinion that I'm not sure has really been expressed. So here goes:
First of all, Chris Dorner is NOT A HERO.
I don't care what your opinion is; you're reading my blog, and that's my opinion. So now, on to the argument:
The man's manifesto is intriguing. He clearly is a relatively intelligent person; he has put his time in and has tried, several times, to correct the flawed system of command in the LAPD. And here, I'll concede a point: I have no trouble believing that the LAPD is corrupt. Any measure of authority in this nation likely has some level of corruption, whether or not it is damaging to the organization's ability to function as it should. The LAPD is famous and infamous for the order they maintain; with a city so large, diverse, and in the right place at the wrong time, incredibly dangerous, they have to keep order with an iron fist. Such a measure, necessary to do the job you're entrusted with in such a situation and place, is inherently riddled with niches for corruption to hide.
However, the writing goes from reasonable argument and exposing the flaws in said organization to threatening innocent people. Not only innocent 'people'; innocent *children*. (I leave out mention of the women, because if we have gender equality, then they presumably aren't any more helpless than the men... hey, you asked for it, ladies!) At that point, any valid argument he made previously is thrown out. You can't do that. I don't care what injustices you've suffered at their hands; I don't care how many times your legal, justified actions within the system have been turned down and ignored; threatening to kill children is not justified. Not cool, dude.
So now, he's a crazy guy. No, there isn't a history of insane acts or concerns while he did his job; I think that the LAPD's blanket dismissal of his manifesto as a crazy man's ranting is more suspicious than reaffirming (more on that later); but a sane, healthy man doesn't threaten kids. If he was really an honorable man who'd served his country well in the military, he wouldn't stoop to such levels. There is no excuse I can think of to ever threaten children.
Chris Dorner isn't a vigilante; he isn't a masked crusader, or the Lone Ranger. He's a crazy homicidal person. I understand that the legal system wasn't a viable option for him, that he'd used it and found it corrupt... But that does NOT EXCUSE killing innocent people, and promising to kill more.
So now, the LAPD's side: almost as crazy as Dorner.
The LAPD not only completely dismissed the manifesto, they tried to make out like Dorner was insane, and instantly started a massive manhunt for him. Not just a 'hunt'; a 'shoot-on-sight mob'. LAPD killed and wounded innocent people trying to kill this man; again, suspect. I'm sorry, but no matter what the criminal is doing, when does it become priority to *kill* them, rather than capture? Even in hostage situations, with crazed, heavily-armed gunmen holding a group of civilians, the police first attempt negotiation; they try to talk them down, try to find other solutions. Only when talks break down and it seems that more innocents' death is imminent do they give the order to shoot.
I understand that when you're in charge and someone threatens your family, you'll go a little crazy. (well, as well as I can understand it without having my own family) I can easily see distraught fathers just wanting that man who was holding a gun to his child's head to *die*; and that's exactly why, when a situation like that occurs and it is clear that those in charge can't be trusted to make calm, rational decisions, they are temporarily relieved of that position. Instead, the LAPD gunned down some innocent people.
The final shootout:
I know what the media has been reporting on. The media, and most civilians, are hung up a LOT on the officers saying things like "Get the gas!"; "Burn it down!"; "Burn that motherfucker down!" and such. To which I say: So fucking what? It's incredibly easy to sit on your couch at home and say, "Oh, they shouldn't have done that!" and I don't agree with the "shoot-to-kill first, ask questions later" stance the LAPD seemed to take on this manhunt in general. However, they're facing a building where a heavily armed and trained man is hiding. A man who has publicly admitted, almost bragged about, killing people, and who has just gunned down one officer- probably a friend of yours- and wounded another. He is not coming out with his hands up; he has made it expressly clear that he is not going down alive. There is no way to sneak up on this guy now; he knows you're there, and he knows all the tricks you'd like to play.
I say again: HE IS SHOOTING AT YOU. He has KILLED YOUR FRIEND. He says that HE WILL KEEP ON KILLING more people.
FUCK YES, BURN THE MOTHERFUCKER.
Standing downrange, bullets whizzing around you, a man holed up in a building shooting at you, no one's really sure what to do but there's no way to safely approach the cabin.... and you see the gas can.
Let's put it this way:
Imagine Chris Dorner was in a glass-walled building, holding a gun to the head of some families- the entire family. He's calmly looking you in the eye and telling you he's going to kill them all. He's already pulled the trigger to two of the victims' heads, and his finger is tightening down. You have a sniper in the building behind you.
What do you do?
YOU TAKE THE FUCKING SHOT.
That's not even a question to most people; with minimal hesitation, they will answer 'pull the trigger'.
Again, I don't agree with the LAPD's handling of this entire situation. I do believe Chris Dorner's claims of corruption and injustice in the Police. However:
1) Killing innocent people is NOT okay.
2) Threatening to kill children is REALLY NOT OKAY.
3) The officers did what they had to, so that one man died instead of eight, or however many would have been lost had they attempted to seize the well-trained, well-armed, determined Chris Dorner.
Recently, we saw 20+ school children slaughtered; and not a word was said in defense of the shooter.
In Alabama, a man seized a 5-year-old boy and held him hostage in a bunker 4 feet below ground. Mr Dykes, the 65-year-old survivalist hostage-taker, was killed to save the child. The police talked for some time to him, trying to settle the situation peacefully, but were unable to do so; *after*talks*broke*down*, FBI entered the bunker and killed the man; and I have yet to hear a single word of sympathy.
The suspect in both cases was dismissed as violent and somewhat crazy. No one has questioned if maybe they were somehow justified in their actions, if they were trying to speak to a larger problem at hand. No, they were dismissed as better off dead.
If either of the perpetrators had posted a long, intricate description of why they were committing those heinous crimes online, going through the extreme corruption and their past futile attempts to rectify the situation through nonviolent means, would we have even half a mind to call them a hero, like some are seeing Chris Dorner?
I say again: whatever his past, however well he made his argument, the man's actions are enough proof for me to say that he was insane, and dangerous.
Also, again: the LAPD's actions are highly suspect. Instead of going about the matter by trying to bring the matter to a peaceful solution, they issued a blanket kill order on the man. I have no issue, no qualms, about the manner in which he was killed- if someone is shooting at you, you fucking kill them, and you don't worry about *how* you do it so that it's the most humane and publicly palatable manner- only with the fact that the LAPD immediately demanded his death. This, to me, says that there is something more behind this; that they wanted to silence him.
That's my little rant. I'm tired of hearing people arguing that Chris Dorner was a misunderstood, misrepresented, wronged, vigilante hero.
'Til next time....
Monday, February 18, 2013
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Short... you might not want to read this.
Today's is just a short little entry.
I've realized that they told me, ages back, that most patients with spinal cord injuries can expect some changes and some repair up to a year after their injury. Some changes won't take place until nearly a year after initial injury.
However, after about a year, you rarely see any improvement. After a year, it's generally assumed that your body has regrown and healed what it can.
That's a problem for me. Intestinal function- bowel and bladder function especially- still isn't 'normal'. It isn't acceptable. It isn't regular, or predictable. It seems random, and inconvenient, and problematic.
I've been thinking, "well, it will all get better; somehow, we'll find the answer." Because so far, everything has had an answer. I recovered enough brain function and physical awareness to the point where I could talk, sit up in bed, could swallow food normally, etc. I persevered and refused to be pushed anywhere in my wheelchair so that my upper body would get stronger. I got my leg amputated and got a prosthesis to overcome the fact that a) I couldn't feel my leg, and b) I couldn't walk on my foot. So it made sense that eventually, I would figure this out; that eventually, there would be an answer.
Now, I'm not so sure.
If, as I think it is, these problems are caused by the nerve damage in my back, the time has passed when that would be expected to heal. By the books, I'm finished healing on my own; I'll have to figure out a way to live with this.
But then, 'by the books' I shouldn't be alive.
I shouldn't have woken from a medically-induced coma.
I shouldn't have been able to talk.
Shouldn't have been able to process executive functions; shouldn't have been able to swallow 'real' solid food; shouldn't have been able to stand; shouldn't have been able to walk.... I feel like the medical community just threw up their hands, and said, "Well, let's just wait and see what happens." with my case. Somehow, my body has defied every negative diagnosis handed down to it. One of the few remaining problems I have daily is the diplopia- the double vision- which I still deal with. It makes things like catching a lacrosse ball difficult, but I just acknowledge it and work around it. And since my early awareness of the issue, it has repaired itself over halfway- instead of seeing 100% double, it only exists in the left side of my vision.
So hey, maybe when I was a kid some aliens or the government did some tests on my body and I'm superhuman. Maybe I have some small but potent powers of regeneration. Who knows? Yeah, that's ridiculous, and I'm not serious, BUT! Think about it: from what I've been told, every doctor and nurse and medical report on me had one image in mind, but my body wasn't following the medical reports. It did what it did, which was to continue to defy *experts* in just about every field of medicine I've had to deal with since my injury.
So maybe I'll still get better.
I just have to ask myself: why the fuck hasn't it healed yet?!
See, with the nerve pain in my leg, I can't relax anymore. You know how, at the end of a long day, you just *collapse* into a chair, or on your bed, and let everything just drrraaaaaaiiiiinnnnn out of you? You let all the tension just seep into the mattress, and you're dead to the world for a few minutes.
Yeah... I can't do that. When I collapse onto the bed, or into a chair, I lie there for a second or two, relaxed and limp... and then my leg twinges. It spikes. It bites and tingles and bothers me. Nerve pain isn't like normal pain; there is no ignoring it. For me, there is no way to look past it. I can choose to fight it and just not move sometimes, but it's still there. At that point, I have to focus on not moving; and that isn't relaxed. No; I'm forcing it to be still.
So I can't do those periodic lazy minutes; I can't get that respite through the day.
Another time you use to simply relax and let go of all your stress is in the bathroom. Not to be gross, but on the toilet, you can relax and let things go and just... not do anything.
Not me. Not anymore. Not only does my leg keep hurting; the bathroom is actually a stressful place for me now. I have to strain to void at all- again, the opposite of relaxing. And with the issues I've been having, I'm never sure what's going to happen. If anything. So that release you get, where you get to just let go of whatever's been building up all day... nope. Not for me.
I feel like I can't relax. Ever. At all. I'm constantly clenched and flexed. I ball up and start rubbing and massaging my leg (which doesn't do anything, but I have to do *something*) every so often; I twitch. I'm told that in my sleep, I trash violently now, that my left leg doesn't sit still, and that at times it jerks so violently that I almost throw myself out of the bed. (this is a hospital bed with rails on it)
There is no 'safe place' in my body anymore. There is no quiet corner I can hide in.
And it's driving me insane. I'm exhausted and tired and sore and I just want to relax. I just want to not worry about this for a little while. But that can't happen.
I've realized that they told me, ages back, that most patients with spinal cord injuries can expect some changes and some repair up to a year after their injury. Some changes won't take place until nearly a year after initial injury.
However, after about a year, you rarely see any improvement. After a year, it's generally assumed that your body has regrown and healed what it can.
That's a problem for me. Intestinal function- bowel and bladder function especially- still isn't 'normal'. It isn't acceptable. It isn't regular, or predictable. It seems random, and inconvenient, and problematic.
I've been thinking, "well, it will all get better; somehow, we'll find the answer." Because so far, everything has had an answer. I recovered enough brain function and physical awareness to the point where I could talk, sit up in bed, could swallow food normally, etc. I persevered and refused to be pushed anywhere in my wheelchair so that my upper body would get stronger. I got my leg amputated and got a prosthesis to overcome the fact that a) I couldn't feel my leg, and b) I couldn't walk on my foot. So it made sense that eventually, I would figure this out; that eventually, there would be an answer.
Now, I'm not so sure.
If, as I think it is, these problems are caused by the nerve damage in my back, the time has passed when that would be expected to heal. By the books, I'm finished healing on my own; I'll have to figure out a way to live with this.
But then, 'by the books' I shouldn't be alive.
I shouldn't have woken from a medically-induced coma.
I shouldn't have been able to talk.
Shouldn't have been able to process executive functions; shouldn't have been able to swallow 'real' solid food; shouldn't have been able to stand; shouldn't have been able to walk.... I feel like the medical community just threw up their hands, and said, "Well, let's just wait and see what happens." with my case. Somehow, my body has defied every negative diagnosis handed down to it. One of the few remaining problems I have daily is the diplopia- the double vision- which I still deal with. It makes things like catching a lacrosse ball difficult, but I just acknowledge it and work around it. And since my early awareness of the issue, it has repaired itself over halfway- instead of seeing 100% double, it only exists in the left side of my vision.
So hey, maybe when I was a kid some aliens or the government did some tests on my body and I'm superhuman. Maybe I have some small but potent powers of regeneration. Who knows? Yeah, that's ridiculous, and I'm not serious, BUT! Think about it: from what I've been told, every doctor and nurse and medical report on me had one image in mind, but my body wasn't following the medical reports. It did what it did, which was to continue to defy *experts* in just about every field of medicine I've had to deal with since my injury.
So maybe I'll still get better.
I just have to ask myself: why the fuck hasn't it healed yet?!
See, with the nerve pain in my leg, I can't relax anymore. You know how, at the end of a long day, you just *collapse* into a chair, or on your bed, and let everything just drrraaaaaaiiiiinnnnn out of you? You let all the tension just seep into the mattress, and you're dead to the world for a few minutes.
Yeah... I can't do that. When I collapse onto the bed, or into a chair, I lie there for a second or two, relaxed and limp... and then my leg twinges. It spikes. It bites and tingles and bothers me. Nerve pain isn't like normal pain; there is no ignoring it. For me, there is no way to look past it. I can choose to fight it and just not move sometimes, but it's still there. At that point, I have to focus on not moving; and that isn't relaxed. No; I'm forcing it to be still.
So I can't do those periodic lazy minutes; I can't get that respite through the day.
Another time you use to simply relax and let go of all your stress is in the bathroom. Not to be gross, but on the toilet, you can relax and let things go and just... not do anything.
Not me. Not anymore. Not only does my leg keep hurting; the bathroom is actually a stressful place for me now. I have to strain to void at all- again, the opposite of relaxing. And with the issues I've been having, I'm never sure what's going to happen. If anything. So that release you get, where you get to just let go of whatever's been building up all day... nope. Not for me.
I feel like I can't relax. Ever. At all. I'm constantly clenched and flexed. I ball up and start rubbing and massaging my leg (which doesn't do anything, but I have to do *something*) every so often; I twitch. I'm told that in my sleep, I trash violently now, that my left leg doesn't sit still, and that at times it jerks so violently that I almost throw myself out of the bed. (this is a hospital bed with rails on it)
There is no 'safe place' in my body anymore. There is no quiet corner I can hide in.
And it's driving me insane. I'm exhausted and tired and sore and I just want to relax. I just want to not worry about this for a little while. But that can't happen.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Still ending...
If you're reading this, make sure you have read the previous post: "The End". DO NOT READ THIS if you haven't read that post; I'm not going to re-hash everything I said in it, and if you just jump into this post, you're going to be confused.
So:
Humans are flawed. Yes, I've said that a few dozen times now, but it absolutely bears repeating.
Stressful situations bring it out; there's a quote I've heard that says something about making sure you see a man at his worst before judging his character- anyone can be nice, and friendly, and generous, and act like a generally good person, when the world smiles upon them. Take away a squishy mattress and their Platinum card(s), and their food, and their water, and all of their comforts, and they have nothing to hide behind. They have nothing with which to calm themselves down; they don't have anything but their true personality.
"Dawn of the Dead" really played this up. There was the biker gang, all cowboy-style shooting and rough talk and macho, who invaded the mall. They were invincible; they laughed at zombies, taunted them before smashing their heads, and for a while they owned the place. But then they got comfortable; they relaxed; and suddenly, the zombies tore into them. They were caught up in their own greed; the situation which put them in power at the moment had reversed and brought them to their knees.
This isn't telling you how to survive the apocalypse. I'm not saying these things so that you'll then turn around and 'fix' yourself, finding the weaknesses and flaws in your own character and reinforcing them; no, because that's all false. Who we are isn't something that we can just change. A lifetime of living one way can affect us deeply, and can in fact change the way we are at our core, but it's not something that we can just look at and alter easily.
This is just... well, first of all, this is a sort of stream of consciousness. And secondly, I'm trying to prepare us- the reader and myself- for what could happen. If you go into the apocalypse expecting to be the hero, expecting that you'll lay down your life for anyone in a crisis, and then you find yourself taking the easy way out and hiding in fear, there will be serious mental repercussions. It will likely be pretty hard to deal with; we don't usually see our ugly core personalities, so having them suddenly rear up and stare us in the face will be a shock to many.
Zombies are many things today: they are the ultimate monster, for reason I said before; and they are a way to comment on the human condition. Zombies are no longer human. They are stripped of all reasoning, of everything which makes us "us". All that remains is some flesh and an insatiable desire to feed (usually on humans). And in such an unrelenting press of doom and death, we are ourselves stripped of all our accoutrements of civilization. A lot of modern zombie fiction focuses on the monster; they're action stories. Some focus on the "realities" of how to actually survive- Max Brooks says he is primarily focused on that reality of survival in a primeval world. Only a few focus on the people who are involved in a realistic, thoughtful way. Every zombie book I've ever read does feature the looters, the people who take advantage of the situation, but they are always faced by the clear "heroes" of the situation- men and women and sometimes children who valiantly refuse to give up, who always take the hard, but morally defensible, road.
Fiction is very nice to read when it has these people in it, which it usually does. These stories tell us that we'll be able to go through the zombie apocalypse, and we can start a new world, while holding our heads high and being proud of whatever we've come through.
I disagree.
While it is important for our humanity to do the 'right' thing- without what makes us "human", how are we different from the mindless creatures which pursue us?- but I don't think that anyone would be able to survive such a world with their morality intact. There is no 'deus ex machina' coming to save you; when you're surrounded by the creatures and you put the kids behind you, defend the women, and charge into battle like the Light Brigade personified.... well, the Charge of the Light Brigade kind of failed. They all died. And so will you. If you take each step with your made-up, high-horse-riding, pure-white personality up as a solid facade, I honestly don't see any way you could survive a zombie apocalypse. Men who have survived war are usually deeply changed; they know themselves, and they often don't like what they see. The man who blows his friend's head open to save him from the agony of dying slowly; the man who watches all of his friends dissolve into pink mist around him; the one who ducks instead of bravely facing the advancing enemy and survives because of it; these men have nothing to hide behind.
We lie to ourselves. Our facade personalities aren't just constructed so that we can hold our heads high in society; they shield us from seeing the dark, twisted person at our center. When we can't afford that facade, when it's torn down around us, then we see ourselves for what we are in truth. Many, many people are deeply and truly shaken by the experience.
That's all I really have for now.
No, this wasn't a zombie survival guide; I didn't discuss my ideal weapons, or where I would go to survive it, so if that's what you were expecting then I'm sorry to disappoint you.
Actually, no, I'm not sorry.
If that's what you were expecting, then tough. Deal with it. This is my blog; I don't write this to pander to you. I write this because I'm bored and my head spills over with stuff to say, and some of it comes out on here.
And now I'm finished. 'Bye.
So:
Humans are flawed. Yes, I've said that a few dozen times now, but it absolutely bears repeating.
Stressful situations bring it out; there's a quote I've heard that says something about making sure you see a man at his worst before judging his character- anyone can be nice, and friendly, and generous, and act like a generally good person, when the world smiles upon them. Take away a squishy mattress and their Platinum card(s), and their food, and their water, and all of their comforts, and they have nothing to hide behind. They have nothing with which to calm themselves down; they don't have anything but their true personality.
"Dawn of the Dead" really played this up. There was the biker gang, all cowboy-style shooting and rough talk and macho, who invaded the mall. They were invincible; they laughed at zombies, taunted them before smashing their heads, and for a while they owned the place. But then they got comfortable; they relaxed; and suddenly, the zombies tore into them. They were caught up in their own greed; the situation which put them in power at the moment had reversed and brought them to their knees.
This isn't telling you how to survive the apocalypse. I'm not saying these things so that you'll then turn around and 'fix' yourself, finding the weaknesses and flaws in your own character and reinforcing them; no, because that's all false. Who we are isn't something that we can just change. A lifetime of living one way can affect us deeply, and can in fact change the way we are at our core, but it's not something that we can just look at and alter easily.
This is just... well, first of all, this is a sort of stream of consciousness. And secondly, I'm trying to prepare us- the reader and myself- for what could happen. If you go into the apocalypse expecting to be the hero, expecting that you'll lay down your life for anyone in a crisis, and then you find yourself taking the easy way out and hiding in fear, there will be serious mental repercussions. It will likely be pretty hard to deal with; we don't usually see our ugly core personalities, so having them suddenly rear up and stare us in the face will be a shock to many.
Zombies are many things today: they are the ultimate monster, for reason I said before; and they are a way to comment on the human condition. Zombies are no longer human. They are stripped of all reasoning, of everything which makes us "us". All that remains is some flesh and an insatiable desire to feed (usually on humans). And in such an unrelenting press of doom and death, we are ourselves stripped of all our accoutrements of civilization. A lot of modern zombie fiction focuses on the monster; they're action stories. Some focus on the "realities" of how to actually survive- Max Brooks says he is primarily focused on that reality of survival in a primeval world. Only a few focus on the people who are involved in a realistic, thoughtful way. Every zombie book I've ever read does feature the looters, the people who take advantage of the situation, but they are always faced by the clear "heroes" of the situation- men and women and sometimes children who valiantly refuse to give up, who always take the hard, but morally defensible, road.
Fiction is very nice to read when it has these people in it, which it usually does. These stories tell us that we'll be able to go through the zombie apocalypse, and we can start a new world, while holding our heads high and being proud of whatever we've come through.
I disagree.
While it is important for our humanity to do the 'right' thing- without what makes us "human", how are we different from the mindless creatures which pursue us?- but I don't think that anyone would be able to survive such a world with their morality intact. There is no 'deus ex machina' coming to save you; when you're surrounded by the creatures and you put the kids behind you, defend the women, and charge into battle like the Light Brigade personified.... well, the Charge of the Light Brigade kind of failed. They all died. And so will you. If you take each step with your made-up, high-horse-riding, pure-white personality up as a solid facade, I honestly don't see any way you could survive a zombie apocalypse. Men who have survived war are usually deeply changed; they know themselves, and they often don't like what they see. The man who blows his friend's head open to save him from the agony of dying slowly; the man who watches all of his friends dissolve into pink mist around him; the one who ducks instead of bravely facing the advancing enemy and survives because of it; these men have nothing to hide behind.
We lie to ourselves. Our facade personalities aren't just constructed so that we can hold our heads high in society; they shield us from seeing the dark, twisted person at our center. When we can't afford that facade, when it's torn down around us, then we see ourselves for what we are in truth. Many, many people are deeply and truly shaken by the experience.
That's all I really have for now.
No, this wasn't a zombie survival guide; I didn't discuss my ideal weapons, or where I would go to survive it, so if that's what you were expecting then I'm sorry to disappoint you.
Actually, no, I'm not sorry.
If that's what you were expecting, then tough. Deal with it. This is my blog; I don't write this to pander to you. I write this because I'm bored and my head spills over with stuff to say, and some of it comes out on here.
And now I'm finished. 'Bye.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
The End
So the newest fad is Zombies.
I'm not talking about a brief fad; I'm talking about a huge thing. It used to be werewolves, or vampires; then, there was the huge rash of horrific monsters which were created when a factory spilled toxic crap into the water; which transformed into the creatures which were altered by radiation- instead of losing their hair, having weak bones, or being sick in any way- or DYING- they got really fucking strong and *huge*- and wreaked havoc. Today, it's zombies.
The only reason I can see for zombies to have become SO BIG lately is that they are the modern horror. Today, we consider ourselves to be at the peak of civilization; zombies = destruction of society and civilization. A Zombie Apocalypse- a "World War Z", as coined by Max Brooks- exposes us. And not only to natural hazards; George Romero's "Dawn of the Dead" remains one of the greatest zombie films- one of the greatest of any type of zombie fiction- for two reasons:
1) It was unlike any zombie movie before it; zombies were a *plague*, and they were self-sustaining- the peop they killed became zombies themselves.
2) It exposed the people to themselves.
Any sort of calamity, any disaster, brings out the best and worst in people. When you're against the wall with a .45 to your balls, you have nothing to hide; everything is about survival. You have no time, no energy, no patience, to spare for appearances. Human nature, in all its majestic beauty and its pitiless hideousness, comes into its own. While one man might throw himself into a horde of zombies to slow them and thereby save the life of a single child, another man- or woman, let's not be sexist- will run and leave the kid there. People don't lie about whom they are when they can't afford the lucury of appearances, and a zombie apocalypse is a particular situation where the danger never really decreases; it never goes away. A zombie won't stop because it's tired; it doesn't get thirsty; if its legs were both shattered, it will drag itself across a mile- or three hundred- of broken glass, rough concrete, and flaming oil, to reach its food. Every person zombies bite, scratch, spit on, bleed on, etc., all become zombies, so they are self-perpetuating; so long as there are people, they can keep attacking.
In the face of such an enemy, there is no safe zone; there is no real retreat, only respite; there is no victory until every last one is curb-stomped to extinction. When there is no break from the menace, people don't have time to fix their mental makeup; they are out for the world to see, zits and scars and all.
Humans are flawed. Deeply and truly flawed. Our bodies and subconscious minds fight tooth and nail for survival- we can shrug off huge, devastating calamity and strife; but our minds want to be "civil". Our heads tell us not to be rude; not to cheat; not to hurt someone's feelings. If it were up to our bodies, the business world would be *literally* cutthroat; lawyers would simply draw pistols for their opening arguments in court. We would carry out our daily lives not allowing anything to threaten us; but no, our minds want to play nice.
That's why zombies scare people. Yes, the idea of human teeth tearing into your soft flesh is unpleasant; the imagination cooks up tracks of the zombie's deathly moan; the idea is simply atrocious and terrible. But zombies are generally represented as slow, clumsy, and awkward- more like old-school mummies in horror movies, shambling stiff-legged with arms outstretched. Why is that frighteninge zombie isn't what scares us; it's what he represents.
As I said, a zombie apocalypse would mean the collapse of civilization. There would be no infrastructure; you wouldn't have neighbors anymore, you would only have fellow survivors; you wouldn't be concerned about the price of milk or gasoline, because your mind would be preoccupied with the price of your next meal (your life, or someone else's?) and as we return to our 'roots' and become savage animals fighting over a scrap of meat.
This natural world scares us. It scares the shit out of us. Aside from those few who were sheltered enough growing up that as adults, now that they've discovered the natural world, they want to spend ALL of their time outside, we like to be inside. I grew up playing day after day outside; I worked outside through High School; I've slept on bare dirt with no blankets, I've ridden out rainstorms in the tops of 40' pine trees, and I've spent a week on the water with no electricity; but I like air conditioning. I love having potable water at a flick of my wrist. I like having comfortable places to sit and lie down.
But those of us who know some about being outside... we know enough to be scared. When you know nothing about the outdoors, you might think, "Oh, a few nights without a blanket? Big deal; I could totally live in the wilderness!" But me, I know a few of the wilderness' dangers. I know how much it hurts to fall from a tree; I know what it's like to walk for miles with blistered feet; I know what happens if you try drinking from the first bit of clear-looking water you find; I know how hard it is to set up a safe position and not just drop to the ground to sleep after a twenty-hour day.
I know enough to be scared, and I have enough experience that I could pick up a lot if I were trained- how to farm, forage, trap, etc.- but I'm not trained in such survival skills. I know enough to know that I know nothing, you know?
So being without the creature comforts of our electric-wired, water-piped, air-conditioned homes is frightening.
But what beasts will we find out there? That is what truly terrifies us, whether we know it or not.
The protagonists in "Dawn of the Dead" didn't die because they weren't capable. They didn't fail because they didn't try, and the problem wasn't that they were outmatched. Time and again, we saw men and women running through *crowds* of zombies, dodging this way and that, laughing uproariously at the zombies' futile, awkward attempts to seize their meals. So why did they all die?
Human error.
To err is human.
Set up in a hidden fortress, with ammunition and all the food they could want, protected from the elements, they still fell prey to zombies. In movie after movie, the protagonists fall one after another. "Sean of the Dead" is one of a few zombie flicks I can think of wherein the outcome is happy- and it's a fucking comedy movie. And in that *comedy*movie*, the main character's best friend, and mother, and several other friends, die! Clearly, there is some belief that zombies are unstoppable and that we can't really "win". Why not?
As I said, we humans are flawed. Seriously flawed. Every one of us.
Whatever flaws we have- each person has their own unique set of flaws which counterbalance their strengths- will come out in an apocalypse. Add the stress and constant threat of a zombie trying to tear your organs out and feast on them, and you have the recipe for disaster.
We get tired. We make mistakes. The things we do do correctly sometimes end up being the wrong choice. Our personal interactions are fragile and volatile; small differences in personalities often make for dramatic confrontations.
I"LL CONTINUE LATER.
I'm tired as shit right now- the antibiotic I'm on is fucking with my energy, so at 2205 I'm fucking exhausted. So don't worry- I'll write more. Hopefully tomorrow.
Bye for now!
-ADJ
I'm not talking about a brief fad; I'm talking about a huge thing. It used to be werewolves, or vampires; then, there was the huge rash of horrific monsters which were created when a factory spilled toxic crap into the water; which transformed into the creatures which were altered by radiation- instead of losing their hair, having weak bones, or being sick in any way- or DYING- they got really fucking strong and *huge*- and wreaked havoc. Today, it's zombies.
The only reason I can see for zombies to have become SO BIG lately is that they are the modern horror. Today, we consider ourselves to be at the peak of civilization; zombies = destruction of society and civilization. A Zombie Apocalypse- a "World War Z", as coined by Max Brooks- exposes us. And not only to natural hazards; George Romero's "Dawn of the Dead" remains one of the greatest zombie films- one of the greatest of any type of zombie fiction- for two reasons:
1) It was unlike any zombie movie before it; zombies were a *plague*, and they were self-sustaining- the peop they killed became zombies themselves.
2) It exposed the people to themselves.
Any sort of calamity, any disaster, brings out the best and worst in people. When you're against the wall with a .45 to your balls, you have nothing to hide; everything is about survival. You have no time, no energy, no patience, to spare for appearances. Human nature, in all its majestic beauty and its pitiless hideousness, comes into its own. While one man might throw himself into a horde of zombies to slow them and thereby save the life of a single child, another man- or woman, let's not be sexist- will run and leave the kid there. People don't lie about whom they are when they can't afford the lucury of appearances, and a zombie apocalypse is a particular situation where the danger never really decreases; it never goes away. A zombie won't stop because it's tired; it doesn't get thirsty; if its legs were both shattered, it will drag itself across a mile- or three hundred- of broken glass, rough concrete, and flaming oil, to reach its food. Every person zombies bite, scratch, spit on, bleed on, etc., all become zombies, so they are self-perpetuating; so long as there are people, they can keep attacking.
In the face of such an enemy, there is no safe zone; there is no real retreat, only respite; there is no victory until every last one is curb-stomped to extinction. When there is no break from the menace, people don't have time to fix their mental makeup; they are out for the world to see, zits and scars and all.
Humans are flawed. Deeply and truly flawed. Our bodies and subconscious minds fight tooth and nail for survival- we can shrug off huge, devastating calamity and strife; but our minds want to be "civil". Our heads tell us not to be rude; not to cheat; not to hurt someone's feelings. If it were up to our bodies, the business world would be *literally* cutthroat; lawyers would simply draw pistols for their opening arguments in court. We would carry out our daily lives not allowing anything to threaten us; but no, our minds want to play nice.
That's why zombies scare people. Yes, the idea of human teeth tearing into your soft flesh is unpleasant; the imagination cooks up tracks of the zombie's deathly moan; the idea is simply atrocious and terrible. But zombies are generally represented as slow, clumsy, and awkward- more like old-school mummies in horror movies, shambling stiff-legged with arms outstretched. Why is that frighteninge zombie isn't what scares us; it's what he represents.
As I said, a zombie apocalypse would mean the collapse of civilization. There would be no infrastructure; you wouldn't have neighbors anymore, you would only have fellow survivors; you wouldn't be concerned about the price of milk or gasoline, because your mind would be preoccupied with the price of your next meal (your life, or someone else's?) and as we return to our 'roots' and become savage animals fighting over a scrap of meat.
This natural world scares us. It scares the shit out of us. Aside from those few who were sheltered enough growing up that as adults, now that they've discovered the natural world, they want to spend ALL of their time outside, we like to be inside. I grew up playing day after day outside; I worked outside through High School; I've slept on bare dirt with no blankets, I've ridden out rainstorms in the tops of 40' pine trees, and I've spent a week on the water with no electricity; but I like air conditioning. I love having potable water at a flick of my wrist. I like having comfortable places to sit and lie down.
But those of us who know some about being outside... we know enough to be scared. When you know nothing about the outdoors, you might think, "Oh, a few nights without a blanket? Big deal; I could totally live in the wilderness!" But me, I know a few of the wilderness' dangers. I know how much it hurts to fall from a tree; I know what it's like to walk for miles with blistered feet; I know what happens if you try drinking from the first bit of clear-looking water you find; I know how hard it is to set up a safe position and not just drop to the ground to sleep after a twenty-hour day.
I know enough to be scared, and I have enough experience that I could pick up a lot if I were trained- how to farm, forage, trap, etc.- but I'm not trained in such survival skills. I know enough to know that I know nothing, you know?
So being without the creature comforts of our electric-wired, water-piped, air-conditioned homes is frightening.
But what beasts will we find out there? That is what truly terrifies us, whether we know it or not.
The protagonists in "Dawn of the Dead" didn't die because they weren't capable. They didn't fail because they didn't try, and the problem wasn't that they were outmatched. Time and again, we saw men and women running through *crowds* of zombies, dodging this way and that, laughing uproariously at the zombies' futile, awkward attempts to seize their meals. So why did they all die?
Human error.
To err is human.
Set up in a hidden fortress, with ammunition and all the food they could want, protected from the elements, they still fell prey to zombies. In movie after movie, the protagonists fall one after another. "Sean of the Dead" is one of a few zombie flicks I can think of wherein the outcome is happy- and it's a fucking comedy movie. And in that *comedy*movie*, the main character's best friend, and mother, and several other friends, die! Clearly, there is some belief that zombies are unstoppable and that we can't really "win". Why not?
As I said, we humans are flawed. Seriously flawed. Every one of us.
Whatever flaws we have- each person has their own unique set of flaws which counterbalance their strengths- will come out in an apocalypse. Add the stress and constant threat of a zombie trying to tear your organs out and feast on them, and you have the recipe for disaster.
We get tired. We make mistakes. The things we do do correctly sometimes end up being the wrong choice. Our personal interactions are fragile and volatile; small differences in personalities often make for dramatic confrontations.
I"LL CONTINUE LATER.
I'm tired as shit right now- the antibiotic I'm on is fucking with my energy, so at 2205 I'm fucking exhausted. So don't worry- I'll write more. Hopefully tomorrow.
Bye for now!
-ADJ
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