Zombies and the Adolescent Imagination

I was recently cited in an article in Sociological Review entitled “Zombies and the Adolescent Imagination.” I reprint a portion here for the benefit of some of our readers (you know who you are):

The zombie film, as a pop-culture artifact, reveals a great deal about the interior lives of male adolescents. If we look to De Walters’ study of marginalized male adolescents, (“The Lost Boys,” Journal of Pediatrics, Mar. 1971) we find abundant comments relating to sexual confusion and feelings of being unlovable or unloved. Often these comments take a turn towards subjects’ claiming to feel “disgusting” or “gross.” Yet these same adolescents claim an insatiable sexual drive, and therefore their nascent sexuality takes the form of a shambling, blind beast, which must “eat brains” no matter what the cost. The fact that zombies eat brains rather than genitals indicates that what these boys really crave is an emotional connection with a romantic partner, while simultaneously feeling unworthy of such a connection, because of their “gross,” mutating bodies. That these same boys obsessively fear a future in which they become mindless working-class drones highlights their abhorrence of and attraction to the zombie figure.

Another Disappointment

A bit of disappointing news today:

Dear Mr. Weiss –

Thank you for your inquiry regarding the Dorothy Chandler Lecture Series. At this time, we are no longer accepting applications to participate in the series. I am enclosing your proposal for “On the Evolution of Tzombi Culture in late 20th Century Los Angeles and Surrounding Counties” and the supporting materials that you submitted.

Good luck.

Sincerely,
M. Dresser
Assistant to Angela Frond

I believe I made reference in an earlier entry to the costs of pursuing truths which, for whatever reason, the Academic community would rather not hear. The letter above is an example of the professional cost, but there is a personal cost as well. I bring this up not because I feel sorry for myself, nor because I wish to apologize for past behavior, but because I wish to demonstrate my devotion to the Tzombi race, whose plight is larger than my relationship problems.

A certain individual has been posting personal e-mails in the comments section from a relationship which, for reasons which are unrelated to this blog, ended some years ago. Because this individual has a history of mental illness (Cotard's Syndrome) and is, I believe, reaching out for help, I do not want to cut off contact.

As these e-mails have no bearing whatsoever on this blog, please disregard them.

Tar Pits

Another excursion! Yesterday, I spent the afternoon at the George Page Museum, otherwise known as The La Brea Tar Pits. Such glorious remnants of a time we were not present for! Dedicated archaeologists spend every day excavating bones from the sticky pits of tar – mice, birds, saber-toothed tigers, dire wolves and mammoths. I spoke with one of the docents to find out if any human remains had been recovered from the tar – in particular, remains that suggested a post-deceased existence – but the docent referred me to the desk manager, who referred me to the security guard, who suggested I might take a turn in the gift shop. In any case, I now have a wonderful little keychain that reads STUCK ON FOSSILS! I think J. will get a kick out of it. My spirits are high.

Further Troubles with the Management

I made a brief excursion to Bakersfield over the three-day weekend. When I returned, I found that my office had not been cleaned. This is the sixth week in a row that a cleaning crew has skipped over my snug office. While I'm an exceptionally neat worker, I often engage in archive research/retrieval that results in a great deal of dust.

Following my eighth letter to the Property Management Company, I received this e-mail response:

Mr. Weiss:
We don’t clean your office, as per orders of the owener [sic].
The Management.
P.S. Stop writing.

I wrote back asking if there were someone to whom I could direct my frustration, and I received the following:

Hey Zombi [sic] guy:
Like I said, orders of the owener [sic]. What, a little dirt bothers a creep like you?
The Management
P.S. What part of STOP WRITING didn't you under-stand?

Needless to say, I have contacted a lawyer who feels I have the beginnings of a proper discrimination case.

Virus R428: A Three-Case Report

In my fervor I forgot to post the promised article. Here is the abstract:

Virus R428: A Three-Case Report

ABSTRACT: Seven years after the identification of R428 in victims suffering from Post-Mortem Mobility Syndrome its status as virus still remains in question. The presence of R428 in Pre-Decease individuals remains hypothetical. Detection of auto-immune response to R428 in Post-Decease individuals remains controversial, as the sample size is extremely small.

In the present study we examine the ways in which the structure, behavior, and possible function of R428 differ from that of a typical virus. In structure it resembles a virus save for its three polypeptide chains; in behavior it appears to bond with immunoglobulins but is not immobilized by them; in function, its presence is accompanied by a high presence of junk DNA “bundles”, which have been created by the process of agglutination.

Refusing a Marginalized Status

For those of you who haven’t been following the rather heated discourse in the comments section of previous posts, I would like to highlight a portion of an article which is in dispute. The article (Virus R428: A Three-Case Report) was published in the December issue of the Hippokratika and was later retracted, with the implication that the study was discredited because of tainted samples.

Those of us in Academe, however, know of the pressure which can be applied when one’s studies do not comply with established (some might say ossified) beliefs.

I count my marginalized status as a badge of honor; it is representative of the marginalized status of those I study. I do not complain that the CSLD at CCS chose to deny me access to the department DESPITE the fact that I am certain they are using my research (submitted as part of my application) to apply for grant money. The resistance of the Academic community in general to a worldview which would place the Tzombi at the center of world events -- their rightful place – is only indicative of the pressing need for systemic changes in modes of teaching. Their method has been to pathologize tzombism by claiming it is caused by a virus. If true, a virus is responsible for some of the crowning achievements of civilization.

They cannot, and will not, marginalize us! The truth will come out!

The Botanica Mystere

Yesterday, I took an excursion (for research purposes) to a small shop in Hollywood called Botanica Mystere. The proprietor is an interesting woman named Esperanza; she claims to have an expertise in unconventional homeopathic and spiritual remedies for common Tzombi ailments. I gently pressed her for some detailed information, but she was sufficiently vague about her training and history. I broached the subject of the fallacy of the R428 virus, but she was completely disinterested in the debate that rages over the subject.

She did, however, sell me a CD, which sounds an awful lot like Native American folk music, but which she claims to have recorded on an island in the South Pacific while shipwrecked with a cocker spaniel and a rock band several years ago. I cannot verify the information, despite my efforts, and I therefore must use my dispassionate scientific eye to cast only a skeptical glance at her claims of “Tzombi knowledge.”

I will say that Esperanza has a wonderful selection of incense and shell necklaces in the store (located on Vine Street, very near a hat shop). Perhaps the excursion was worth it in the end, not because I found a like-minded individual to discuss Tzombi culture with, but because I have discovered Juice Fountain! Juice Fountain is the most wonderful little hole-in-the-wall shop two doors down from the Botanica. I ordered a wonderful fresh juice made of watermelon, orange, potato and basil, a combination that my grandmother loved. They didn’t bat an eye at the request.

I adore fresh juice and I will return.

The Swirling Black Void: An Examination

A comment from my new friend Cullen:

“Another thought I had last night before retiring to bed (I get all my best thoughts right before falling asleep): Have you considered that the “horrenda caribdis” on the Magnus woodcut we talked over is a reference to THE VOID that so often appears in zombie art?”

Cullen refers here to the “horrenda caribdis,” the Maelstrom, on the lower right of the Olaus Magnus woodcut, detailed in a previous post:



He compares it to the “void” described in many Tzombi testimonies as written about by Dr. Teresa Morgan through her work in Personality Reclamation using hypnotic regression. Her article in Sentience: A Journal of Consciousness 36, no 3 which describes the unique plight of the post-deceased, many of whom (87% by her count) have lost touch with their former lives. A quote:

One recurring motif in regression is the “swirling black void” or “vortex” which, if the subject is able to remember anything at all about his/her pre-decease existence, is the sole memory.

One subject had a very particular experience of this void -- a “vision,” if you will, while under hypnosis:

I saw a…black mass…which drew me to it. It was alive and…kind of—howling? But ‘howling’ isn’t the right word, because it was like everything was howling. Like a black hole would pull you apart if you fell into it? This was like a mental black hole. I could feel it would pull my thoughts apart-rip them right out of my head.

Compare this to my graduate work in which a small percentage of those experiencing NDE’s (Near Death Experiences) mentioned the “swirling black void”(Published in Thoughts on Thought: An Anthology of Consciousness, Brain Burst Books, 1992.)

At the time, I hypothesized this void to be the inverse of the commonly described “tunnel of light,” After years of studying the Tzombi, however, I am prepared to suggest another cause, the two of which need not be mutually exclusive: this “void” may be a genetic memory of the Black Rock of Cybele (or Assyrian Cenotaph, for those of you of Ashmolean bent) which imprinted itself on the DNA of the Tzombi race.

A 'Zine for the Zeitgeist

I forgot to share one of my newly acquired treasures from the excursion to the Tzombi Gallery. After J. did not return from her trip to the ladies room (she decided to catch the #2 Sunset home, apparently), I struck up a conversation with a young woman named Monique, who purported to be distributing a ‘zine for her boyfriend, Ivan. She signed me up for a mailing list and sold me an edition of AMERICAN ZOMBIE:



I’m not quite sure what to make of this strange bit of pop culture. Is it art? Or an insensitive mockery of the Tzombi community? I choose to believe the former.

In any case, I look forward to adding it to my collection and performing further study.

Tzombi Rennaisance in Los Angeles

As a peace offering, I took J. to a gallery show last night, another wonderful example of the Tzombi renaissance here in Los Angeles. J. seemed more interested in the free wine and cheese cubes, but I was quite taken with an artist named Glen, whose work is comprised of wonderful, vicious swirls that he has proudly entitled Void 1.1, Void 1.3, Void 1.5.

Though J. left halfway through the evening, I had the good fortune of meeting Cullen Preys, the Assistant Curator of the show. We spoke about the renaissance of Tzombi culture in the Los Angeles area and traded thoughts on a series of Olaus Magnus woodcuts that were on exhibit at the Natural History Museum last month (see my previous post entitled FROM HERE TO GREENLAND AND BACK).

Cullen has a wonderful mind and an open heart, and I hope that we might continue our fascinating exchange of ideas in the near future. First and foremost is that I would like to persuade him to change his e-mail address to read “Tzombi Gallery” rather than “Zombie Gallery.”

The Black Rock of Cybele Redux

Thank you, thank you, Papillonnoirs, for emailing a fascinating article from the London Times, circa 1912:

August 10, 19XX
The London Times

An ancient stone, dating from 2000 B.C. and described as an Assyrian Cenotaph, is currently on display at the Ashmolean Museum before being returned to its origins in Arabia.

For almost twenty years the cenotaph has been in the museum, but neglected. The tablet had, indeed, been catalogued, but, apparently, this had been done from a cursory examination, for it had been placed in a cardboard box, covered with a glass top, and marked “burial stone.” When finally tended to, it was found that the stone had been nibbled at by rodents.

The Cenotaph is quite 4,000 years old, but whence it came from, and which expedition uncovered it, is still subject for investigation. That it was of great antiquity when the Book of Genesis was written is agreed, and that was at least 2,800 years ago.

Papillonnoirs, this is almost certainly the Black Rock of Cybele! Part of my difficulty in tracing it is no doubt due to my designating it thus, while the museum had been designating it by the generic (and faulty) heading of Cenotaph. A Cenotaph is a burial stone, and while this might be an understandable mistake for a layperson to make, for the curator of a museum dealing in antiquities it is inexcusable, as is the neglect shown.