Back in the Saddle, Figuratively Speaking...

So I’ve been criminally negligent in my posting lately. I’ve lots of stuff going on, and I’ve, quite frankly, been neglecting my blog for the evil that is Facebook. Add to that the fact that I’m working two jobs, busting my ass trying to get agents and editors to pick up my newest novel - A Darkness Within, and I’ve also been dealing with some medical stuff that is directly related to the fact that I’m a fat ass… and I haven’t had the time or energy to devote to this like I should.

So I’m going to try to be better about updating, I promise! In fact, I’ve got three or four movie reviews that I need to write up and post, as well as today’s post with the metric fuckton of links I’ve found over the last few weeks. Be patient with the good Doctor, dear reader, I promise I’ll continue to write and post because - really - I’m an attention whore and, if I don’t write, I’ll lose my mind and actually start listening to the screaming voices in my head. When that happens, it’s only a matter of time before I show up at someone’s door with a bag full of sharp and pointy medical instruments.

And none of us want that, do we?

So, on to the links…

I’ve said it countless times, but I get the sense that some of you still aren’t listening. I am a huge geek. I’m an alpha geek. When speaking of myself, I should put GEEK in all caps! Don’t believe me? Let me prove it. I’ve become a huge follower of this site and/or blog. That’s right, I’ve been following the exploits of Wil Wheaton. Now I know what some of you are saying. You’re saying, “WHAT?!? Wesley Crusher? I HATE that dude!” And believe me when I say I was right there with you at one time. The thing is, as I get older, I realize that the cat was just doing a job and wasn’t writing all the scripts. I like reading about his life post ST:TNG because he, like the good Doctor Zombie, is honest and unabashed in his self-proclaimed geekishness. So there. I’ve said it. I dig Wil Wheaton. In fact, I’d totally hang out with him. I’d buy him beer and we’d split the case, and we’d get drunk discussing the efficiency of warp nacelles and whether or not he ever saw Marina Sirtis naked. Wil Wheaton rocks!

My regular readers should know some other basic truths about me from my blog. They should know I’m a geek of epic proportions, they should know that I have an unnatural and decidedly creepy fascination with horror movies, and they would also tell you that I love stories about cannibalism and necrophilia. I don’t know why I’m fascinated with these stories, but I am. Maybe it’s my inability to wrap my undead head around how absolutely fucked up one has to be to sink to such unplumbed depths of depravity. I don’t know why, but I’m fascinated. That being said, this story is a testament to how weird, bizarre, and twisted human beings can get. And… for extra cool bonus points, this took place in Doctor Zombie’s state of Ohio, down in Cincinnati. As an aside on this… part of my duties at my part time security job at the local hospital is to pick up the bodies of people who’ve died and transport them to the morgue. I check in the bodies, move them around, occasionally help the coroner or the Eye Bank people prepare them, and even bag them when the nurse’s are being lazy. I can say, without equivocation, that the smells, sights, and sounds (yes, SOUNDS) one deals with when handling the deceased are not in ANY WAY sexually arousing. That this dude did this is seriously deranged and disgusting. Deranged, disgusting, and fascinating because of how creepy it is.

I’ve seen these before, but these crazy perspective chalk drawings never cease to amaze. The ones in this article are way cool, especially because they have a post apocalyptic feel to them. One thing I can say is that, while the good Doctor is an incredible writer, I do wish that I had some artistic talent. I seriously have trouble drawing a straight line to make a stick figure. I’ve always been in awe of people who could do things like this. What’s worse is that I friends who are artists of this caliber. And I love them as friends, but hate them because of their talent and ability. It is a hate borne out of envy. Is that wrong?

This story is a few weeks old, but I find it fascinating on a lot of different levels. An excavation of a plague grave in Italy has unearthed evidence of a vampire.



All right, it wasn’t a vampire, but it was what the superstitious, medieval gravediggers of the time did with what they thought was a vampire. I love this sort of story, and there’s an even cooler link attached to it with pictures of the actual grave. Which brought up an interesting question to me; namely, is excavating plague graves safe? I remember when Mrs. Zombie and I went on our honeymoon to London, we visited Greenwich where there is a big open field outside of the Greenwich Observatory named Black Heath. It’s a lovely park where families were having picnics, kids were playing, people were jogging, and it was being enjoyed by all. The thing is, I later found out that it’s a big, undeveloped park and called Black Heath because, back in medieval times, it was actually where London buried the bodies of victims of the Black Death. It was undeveloped because there was a risk of re-releasing the plague. Cool story, huh? Apparently, it’s untrue… but I find it deliciously chilling to think that an errant bulldozer and a misread work order could unleash a new onslaught of Yersinia Pestis on an unsuspecting world.

I can watch this GIF for hours. This is what happens when Millenials do too many bong hits and decide to do something cool and EXTREME; when, in fact, it will almost surely result in an epic fail. Idiots.

Found this article about a cadre of women fighters living in the hills of the Ukraine like Shaolin monks. This is sexy on so many levels… and this is the sort of thing gamers and geeks the world over have fantasies about. Soooo sexy….

This LiveJournal entry has created quite a bit of discussion over at Zombie Squad, and I had to link to it. Fair warning before you click it, though… this is, quite possibly, the worst fantasy novel EVER. If you are easily offended by horrible writing, save yourself a click. Seriously. What cracks me up is that it is like a description of a woman by a fantasy gamer/LARP’er who’s never ventured out of the womblike safety of Mom’s basement and laid eyes on a real girl. It’s like this scene in The 40 Year Old Virgin, where Steve Carrell tries to describe the feel of breasts, having never felt them.



Someone on ZS also mentioned that the monumentally bad fantasy novel was like reading any of the Gorn books. I read those back in college and, until they mentioned it, I had totally forgotten how bad the Gorn books really were. They were, like the book above, misogynistic crap. What’s scary is that there are actually people who have devoted their lives to following the “Way of Gorn”. Seriously.

On a related note, sometime I fear for humanity.

Finally, I’ve two links to the British press. I’m not really sure how I feel about the British press at times. They don’t have the standards we do, and can sometimes print outright bullshit with no care for the consequences. It’s yellow journalism at its worst, and I hate them for it. But then, there’s the snarky, sarcastic side of their reporting. I love this dearly and it’s what keeps pulling me back to The Sun and The UK Daily Mail. Nobody does snarky better than the Brits, and this article about President Obama’s visit to the UK for the G20 meeting was fucking brilliant and wholly unlike anything you’d read here in the US… even in the tabloids. The only place you can read this sort of cattiness is in the blogosphere, but even that douchebag Perez Hilton doesn’t do it as well or as well written.

The second link is to a trailer of the new Sasha Baron Cohen movie, Bruno. I’ve got to say, this cat’s a genius. He’s actually managed to out Andy Kaufman Andy Kaufman and taken this particular brand of humor and art to levels never before seen. This movie looks fucking hilarious and I’m looking forward to it.

That’s all for now, dear readers; unpleasant dreams!

More VOICES!!!

So - in my search for yesterday's post, I found this alternative that, quite frankly, is just as brilliant.

Filet O' Fish, by the way, is my favorite thing on the McDonald's menu. And I know it's very likely the most unhealthy thing they have.... but it's soooo good!

This, too, has suddenly gotten stuck in my head.

And, in order to ensure that this post maintains it's rating as an approved educational posting as per US Department of Education guidelines... the phenomenon where a song or phrase gets stuck in your head is known as an earworm. Oddly appropriate, huh?

So, things like the Scooby Doo theme, The Filet O'Fish song, the name of writer/philosopher Deepak Chopra, the Brady Bunch theme, or the penultimate earworm - the theme to Gilligan's Island - are all part of this odd and exceedingly annoying quirk of human evolution.

Don't you feel smarter now?



BTW - As an aside, I started training for the Cleveland Triathlon this week (Mrs. Zombie's employer is the title charity for it)... but it's really hard to not succumb to all of this marketing. It's Lent, which means the Filet O' Fish is cheap (2 for $3.33!!!), and next week is St. Paddy's, so they have the Shamrock Shake available.

Jesus! What's a fat-ass with poor impulse control issues supposed to frackin' do?!?

Why Won't the Voices GO AWAY!

Three days. Three bloody days.

That's how long the voice has been there, in my head. And... as soon as I think I've finally killed it, destroyed the tormentor, one of my kids reminds me by singing it as they go by.

How do I stop it? Jesus Christ in a hot rod... how do I MAKE IT STOP!

This, by the way, is what I'm talking about. I dare you to not let it's simple repetitiveness and Casio-like background music drive you insane. Share in my madness. SHARE IN MY MADNESS!

Movie Review - My Name is Bruce (2007)

Sheer awesomeness! That is all!

All right, maybe I've a little more to say than that... but that's going to be the summation of my review. I just wanted to warn you.

And, I guess it might be my man-crush on him; or maybe it's my childlike delight in his entire B-movie ouevre; or it might even be my inability to go even one day without quoting him... but it all boils down to the fact that I am incapable of providing an objective review of any movie that the God-like Bruce Campbell does.

And My Name is Bruce is no exception.

The thing is, you either get Bruce, or you don't. If you're a fan, this is going to be a wild trip into all that is good and right and smarmy about His Royal Chinness. If, instead, you're like the beautiful Mrs. Zombie... you have no idea what the appeal of Bruce Campbell is.

And believe me when I say that no amount of arguing or cajoling is going to change that fact. I love Mrs. Zomie dearly, but had I known she wasn't going to share my love for Bruce Campbell, that might have been a deal breaker. Not appreciating Bruce is not necessarily a divorcing offense, but it is something that should be clearly stipulated and expressed in any prenuptial agreements. And if you're single and reading this, learn from Dr. Zombie on this one -- make sure that you've got some compatability on the Bruce Campbell issue... or you're going to have issues later in the marriage.

Especially when you come to bed smelling like Old Spice because Bruce Campbell said to buy it.

But I digress... let's talk about My Name Is Bruce.

I finally got My Name is Bruce through Netflix after an unacceptably long wait and eagerly put it into the DVD player the first chance I got. I'd heard good things about it online, and had even planned on going down to Columbus when it did it's limited engagement theater run late last year. Unfortunately, I procrastinated and didn't get tickets on time. What was worse was that Bruce hisself was there, doing a Q&A. Believe me when I say I was damn near inconsolable in my grief.

The movie itself is a vanity piece where Bruce plays himself, but it's an exaggerated self -- the Bruce Campbell that we know and love from his movies; namely, the cocky, smartass, Ash-like Bruce Campbell.

The plot's simple and straightforward. A Chinese ghost is terrorizing a small mining town called Gold Lick in Oregon; blithely beheading the backwoods citizens who live there. A teen from the town, Jeff (Taylor Sharpe) -- who also happens to be Bruce Campbell's number one fan -- convinces the townsfolk that his hero, the great and awesome zombie killing mo-fo, Bruce, is the only one who can save them.

Bruce meanwhile, is back in LA, filming a cheesy, made for the Sci-Fi channel movie entitled Cave Alien 2. His hopes and dreams of being a mainstream actor are gone and he's a sarcastic, boozing, misanthrope who makes fun of his slavish fans and abuses cripples. He meets his agent (Ted Raimi) at an LA strip club, and he lives in a crappy trailer because his second wife (Ellen Sandweiss - who played Ash's sister Cheryl in Evil Dead)has left him, unknowingly, for his agent.

Bruce is kidnapped by the townsfolk and brought to their town. At first, he thinks that he's part of an elaborate reality-type show or movie, and thinks the town's full of actors, and that he's there to film a role. So, in typical Bruce Campbell style, he proceeds to insult the locals, tries to bed superfan Jeff's hot and buxom mom, Kelly (played by Grace Thorsen), and is his usual boorish and over the top self.

He soon finds out that the Chinese ghost - Guan-Di - is real and runs away... in spectacularly and uber-cowardly fashion.

It's not a spoiler to tell you that Bruce has a change of heart and saves the day... but it's sure fun to watch it happen!

The film is typical low budget fair, but it is well put together. Especially when you learn, as detailed from the DVD extras, that the entire set of the town of Gold Lick was built on a part of the eleventy-bilion acres of Bruce's property in Oregon.

The movie is also a delight in that it was casted with many of Bruce's friends; actors who are familiar to those of us who've devoted unhealthy amounts of time to watching each and every Bruce Campbell vehicle possible. As previously mentioned, Ted Raimi and Ellen Sandweiss make appearances (Ted actually chews up the scenery in three different roles!); but there are numerous others who've worked with Bruce before. They include (in their previous roles) The blacksmith from Army of Darkness and the hillbilly from Evil Dead 2, Bruce's brother and his nephew, and numerous other cast and crew.

In true independent fashion, the other actors aren't quite up to the calibre of Bruce, but this is to be expected as Bruce cast mostly local theater actors for the main roles. The actress who played love interest Kelly was notable in the fact that she was better than most... but was also, truthfully, a normal girl next door type.

The best scenes were those in the beginning where Bruce was given free reign to ham it up as his alter ego. Whether it's insulting strippers and fans alike; drunk dialing his ex-wife, or getting drunk on Old Shemp bourbon with his dog, Sam'n'Rob ("C'mon! Hooch! Hooch for the pooch!!!") - Bruce is best at being Bruce.

There's no mistaking that this is a vanity piece type film. It is all about Bruce and is an ode to his fans. The references to his other movies, boomsticks, and Sam Raimi are heavy handed. And, when held to other similar vanity films (Bruce Willis in Hudson Hawk, or Ahh-nold in The Last Action Hero come to mind), this one is so much more succesful for the simple fact that Bruce doesn't take himself seriously.

I will watch every Bruce Campbell film out there... whether they're Bulgarian-made, Sci Fi Channel suckfests or not... but this film is something more. It's a labor of love and is an homage to the greatness of Bruce Campbell. Rather than resist the typecasting and myth that is Ashley J. "Ash" Williams - Bruce embraces it and gives all geekish fanboys (Doctor Z. Included!) some of that special sugar.

Will Doctor Z. buy this flick? Absolutely. And is it worth spending good money on? Positively.

To sum it up, My Name is Bruce is ... Groovy.


Doctor Zombie's Rating: 5 out of 5 Chomped Brains

Star Wars Awesomeness!

This is just cool as fuck!

Test

Testing a new Flip video recorder I got for work. This post will most likely be gone in a few hours....

Music to Soothe the Zombie Soul...

Lazy post alert! Lazy post alert!

I wrote this up for Facebook and decided to cross post it here because I spent an hour or two last night writing it.

Lists seem to be all the rage on the Facebook of late, and this is yet another. There are no rules per se. It is just me sharing songs that are working for me at this moment in time, along with a wee bit of insight as to why. If you feel like it, make your own list of however many songs that move you. I'm interested in such things.

I was tagged by Jay and Jen…

Carnage Visors by The Cure - This goes back to college. There’s something so plaintive and lonely about the sound of the guitar and bass in this song. It reminds me of my college apartment; the hiss of the radiator in the corner, the darkness lit only by the flickering of candles, and the bittersweet nostalgia when I remember a time when my life was stretched before me like a thundercloud on the horizon. Plus - nothing beats a 30 minute Cure instrumental piece. I still listen to it a couple times a week when I’m working.

The Summoning of the Muse by Dead Can Dance - I’m a big Dead Can Dance fan. I love their dark, world music feel. There's something about this song that reaches into my soul and gives it a sharp tug. The ethereal vocals, the choral quality, and the soaring minor melody all mix to make this a hauntingly beautiful piece of music unlike any I’ve ever heard.

Blood, Milk, and Sky by White Zombie - This song is a study in escalation. It starts out slow and grinding and then the sound and the momentum build and grow. It is, quite possibly, one of the most perfect alternative songs of all time.

Float by Flogging Molly - I just recently heard this song and it prompted me to, within an hour, go out and find the CD. This song appeals to the Irish in my soul and the lyrics are dangerously close to being autobiographical.

Doctor Who Trance Remix by Trance - This is so geeky that I’m almost embarrassed to post it… but here goes. I downloaded this song/mix from whomix.com - an online site dedicated to accepting and posting remixes of the classic and modern Doctor Who themes. This version is - according to many of the listeners on the site - the best remix on the site. I agree wholeheartedly. I’ve attached a link so you can listen yourself… if you can bear the basement-like scent of geek all over the site! This is a trancey, techno piece that is perfect in its execution. This is part of my workout mix and I love to end a run with it. I dare you not to jump out of your seat and dance!

Goddess Chant (a cappella mix) by Inkubus Sukkubus - so simple, but so exquisite in it’s perfect harmonies. I’ve heard the Pagan Goddess chant a few times in my life and, somehow, I’ve never heard it done so beautifully or so lovingly.

Into the Mystic by Van Morrison - A classic. If someone were to ask me to introduce them to Van Morrison, I would play this song… and not Brown Eyed Girl. A perfect amalgamation of poetry, music, and imagery that is an encapsulation of everything I think of when I think of an Irish bard. Van Morrison has so many other incredible songs (Moondance, TB Sheets, and Crazy Love come to mind), but this one is - to me - my favorite.

I Just Want To Make Love to You by Muddy Waters - Nobody does the blues like Muddy Waters and this song is one of his finest. I also love that Muddy Waters was a downright dirty old bastard, and this song is the most upfront of them. A man after my own heart!

Darkness by Peter Gabriel - From Peter Gabriel’s last album (did I say album? Crap! I’m showing my age!), this is classic Peter. What’s amazing is how all of Peter Gabriel’s music is so progressive, how it stands the test of time. Stuff from Peter Gabriel I (Security) is just as good as the stuff on Up. And this song is all that is right and good about Peter Gabriel. The beautiful, imagery-laden lyrics, the tempo changes, the loud and discordant jangle of odd sounds juxtaposed against quiet interludes of music that would make anyone cry, and the perfect mix of music and voice that makes old Peter one of my all time favorite artists.

Welcome to the Machine by Rogers Waters {off of In the Flesh (Live)} - I found this on iTunes because you can’t buy the original version from Wish You Were Here (or much of the other good Pink Floyd) off of iTunes. The thing is I started to like this version more. Whereas the original is mixed and produced to perfection, the live sounds better and more raw.

El Matador by Flavio Cianciarulo - This is off of the Grosse Pointe Blank soundtrack. My friend Chrissy introduced it to me and I will be eternally grateful to her for doing so. It’s a crazy, upbeat song sung entirely in Spanish… but it never fails to make me want to get up and pogo around the room. I just put it back into my iPod for workouts and it is a great song to sweat to.

Ribcage Mambo by Frenchy - I just recently purchased a compilation of surf punk music dedicated to Halloween called Halloween Hootenanny. I got it initially to get a Rob Zombie song unavailable anywhere else off of it, but I’m finding I love the whole album. This song is quickly becoming my favorite and is great because it is less surfer music and more something you’d hear in a smoky jazz club in the 1950’s… if the club was at the corner of Hitler Blvd and East 666th street in Hell.

Dare by The Gorillaz - Damon Albarn is a genius and I own every one of The Gorillaz CD’s. I love how there’s such an eclectic mix of styles and genres on every one. Their last album, Demon Days, was brilliant and - given the scope of it’s brilliance - it’s amazing that there were standouts even beyond that. Dare is one of those. Danceable and infectious, Dare also has a darkness to it that belies the catchy break beat.

Mysterium by This Ascension - This song is very much like Dead Can Dance’s Summoning of the Muse, but more Gothy (is that a word?). There’s just something so haunting about the female vocals, the Latin lyrics, and the harsh background music.

Stained by Android Lust - Dark, disturbing, and driving… a great example of Goth/Ethereal music. I’m realizing, as I write this list, that I tend towards female Goth vocalists lately. Not sure what that’s about, but it is what it is. I’ve loved Android Lust for a few years now and I was somewhat dismayed to find, while flipping television channels the other night, that they were playing Android Lust on an episode of NCIS. While I love that they are mainstream, I hate that they’re mainstream. Does that make sense?

Moonlight Sonata (Piano Sonata no.14 in C Sharp Major) - Beethoven - Going old school here. Beethoven’s my favorite classical composer, and probably for all the wrong reasons, but I still love the beautiful simplicity of the piano in the first movement. I remember the first time I heard it, and it still has the power to move me to tears.

Signs by Bloc Party - My friend Kristin sent me a note through Facebook earlier this week asking if I’d heard of Bloc Party. She said they reminded her of me because they had a Cure-like sound. So, I went home and found some of their stuff on iTunes. I was blown away. What’s even funnier is, over the last couple days, I’ve been hearing about them all over the place. I even had another friend send me a Facebook request to join a group to bring them to Cleveland for a concert. I love this song especially and it will undoubtedly become a Dr. Zombie favorite.

Bleed it Out by Linkin Park - A great, short little song that never fails to make me smile. I love Linkin Park and this song is classic. It sounds like the band were having a blast when they recorded it and the lyrics are typical Linkin Park. I especially like the line about “Mama help me I’ve been cursed, Death is rolling in every verse, Candy paint on his brand new hearse, Can’t contain him he knows he works…”

Harder They Come by Oakenfold (featuring Nelly Furtado and Tricky) - I have been on an Oakenfold kick lately. He’s brilliant and that brilliance manifests itself with all of the collaborations he does. Serious artists (and some not so serious) all want to work with him. This is one of my favorite collaborations and, because of this song, I’ve become a Nelly Furtado fan. The piano, the synthetic strings, and the throbbing of Oakenfold’s beats behind Nelly Furtado’s voice is like the wondrous, creamy layers of a musical cake. That it has Tricky on it is like sprinkles on the already nicely done frosting.

Crucify by Grendel - Pure, jump in the pit, and dance your motherfucking ass off EBM. This is music that is best listened to whilst head-butting someone. It is primal, animalistic, and almost orgasmic when turned up as loud as you can get it.

BTW - speaking of the evil that is Facebook... if you're a regular reader and you have a Facebook account, please feel free to swing by and send me a friend invite. I'd be happy to add you! The link to my Facebook account is over to the right under my links.

A Panoply of Links

I realized I've been lax about posting lately. Sorry about that. Things have been crazy at both of my jobs, and I've not had time to think... much less post. So, in lieu of anything actually actually original or creative, I figured I'd throw up some links that I've been hanging onto.

Enjoy.


This is an interesting story I found on MSNBC. I do have to say that it is very difficult to suffer the illiterate. I am often horrified by the misspellings and grammar misconduct out there. Especially from people who should know better. I can laugh at idiots who don't have the foresight or requisite grey matter to spell check before getting "Fuck The Systsem" tattooed on their body, but I can't abide by the more insidious atrocities of the English language that arebecoming more and more prevalent. I partially blame the advent of texting for some of it... but I also blame poor schooling as well. It's hard enough to be a literate person in an illiterate world, is it too much to ask that people take the time to put a coherent, properly spelled sentence together? Seriously? Anyway, my own smug, superior biases aside... I just thought it was an interesting article in that it - at the least - made me join the Facebook group, "I judge you when you use poor grammar".



Mrs. Z is perpetually busting my balls about three things when it comes to my movie watching behavior. The first is my all consuming rage and unadulterated hatred when it comes to the concept of PG-13 horror movies. The second is the psychotically murderous impulses Horror movie remakes engender. Why fuck with the classics? Why? And, finally, the third is my almost universal disdain for m0vie sequels. She finds it amusing that I will, generally, hate sequels. And I will be the first to admit it is true. Nothing upsets me more than to have a great initial movie, followed up by a sequel that is weak, stupid, and totally ignores the things that made the first so great. It's even worse with movies I'm looking forward to. If, after seeing the sequel, I'm underwhelmed... she goes on - as nauseum - about how I'm a movie snob. I do think some of what she says is valid, but not all of it. I don't think it's too much to ask that a great movie be given just as much care and affection as the original. In fact, it is the same sort of thinking by the suits in corporate Hollywood that makes me so hate PG-13 horror. It's more about capitalizing on the first then it is about actually building on the mythology or story of the progenitor. And, despite the 99% of sequels to the contrary - it is possible to do a good sequel. It's been done. I look to Aliens, or Matrix Reloaded, or Spiderman 2, or Dawn of the Dead as examples of great sequels. But, for every Terminator 2; there's a Matrix Revolutions, or Resident Evil anything out there. The tragedy is that the sequels actually hurt the original in my mind. (That's right Alien versus Predator, I'm looking at you, you steaming pile of crap!) . Anyway, this article does a great job of dissecting why horror sequels do so badly... I couldn’t have written it better myself…

Putting this post up for two reasons... 1) What a kick ass name for a bike company, and 2) it's just a neat, environmentally cool idea. I love bikes. I'm a mountain biker (or used to be. I'm not so much anymore, as evidenced by the horrifyingly rapid expansion of my waistline. What I wouldn't give for a life threatening case of dysentery, or a good sized tape worm. My BMI would love the therapeutic weight loss of a good binge and purge.) Truthfully, I'd never buy a SpookyTooth bike as the cost would be better spent on a back up used, Craigslist motorcycle... but cool nonetheless.

Not sure if this counts as porn or not... but it was just kind of morbidly fascinating to me. Some background - the site was put up by a 25 year old woman who is in training to be a midwife. She and her boyfriend decided to track the changes her cervix went through for the duration of her one month cycle. It was forwarded to me by some guy who was looking at it like any immature 12 year old would. (i.e.; "Ew! pictures of a vagina! Ha! Girls are icky!" ). The thing is, I find it fascinating in that it's an insight into the human body and a glimpse into the intracacies of the mysterious female part of the species. Not sure how you feel about it but, like I said, I think it's absolutely fascinating. Additionally, I'm impressed by the braveness the website creator showed in posting what is probably the most intimate, private part of her body. {Disclaimer: No actual recognizable pictures of a hoo-haw, but it may still be slightly NSFW. It IS pictures of a cervix and it might be hard to explain to your cubemates or boss if they look over your shoulder; at least not without it sounding too creepy or like you've got such a porn/fetish addiction that you need to look at girly naughty bits at work. Not gross either, but there's lots of...well ... pink parts. Open at your own risk!)

Now, to totally destroy any goodwill that last link might have gained me among my female readership... and lest you think I may actually be enlightened by the beauty of strong women who are proud of their femininity...ahem... OH MY GAWD!!! GEEK ALERT! GEEK ALERT! All I'll say about this site is that I NEED to go to more comic book conventions! There're some HOT chicks there! There's all kinds of personal kink fantasies of Dr. Zombie on these pages! Mmmm.... Wonder Woman. Mmmm... Princess Leia. Mmmmm... Triana Orpheus.

Time for a confession. While most of my preferred music is a mix of classical, alternative, classic rock, and heaping gobs of Goth/Industrial/Dark Wave/EBM, I do have a fondness for Eminem. I know, I know. Not what you'd expect from Doctor Zombie... but it is what it is. I think the appeal of Eminem (when I hate most other Rap music) is his ability to rhyme. He appeals to the poet in me. That and I respect his blatant honesty and the in-your-face-I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude. He's also funny as hell. Anyway, this article about his life and his return to music after retiring was revealing and - truthfully - made me respect him more. Not sure why I felt the need to post it, but I think it's a well written piece... even considering it was written by the British press which is notoriously biased and yellow.

In the human depravity and shocking behavior arena - I was reading something else a few weeks ago and they mentioned Carl Tanzler in passing as a necrophile. The story was lean on details, but the morbid fuck that I am, I sure as shit picked up on the necrophilia part. So I did a quick search and came up with this wondrous story of human depravity, insanity, and corpse abuse. Check it out. I am honestly disappointed that I hadn't heard about this nutjob before. I consider myself a student of psychopaths, serial killers, and all around whack-a-doos... and I honestly can't explain how this 1930's-era crime slipped under my radar so long! Enjoy! Revel in the insanity of Count Carl von Cosler!

Finally - this is a little late because it was at the bottom of the links I've collected over the last couple months, but it is just funny as hell! Check out the Smoking Gun's top mugshots of 2008 and thank the dark pagan gods that you aren't one of these people, or - for that matter- one of their parents, children, brothers, sisters, or even distant cousins. Giggles for all!

That's all for now, dear readers! Unpleasant dreams!

Winter in Cleveland

So I spent last week in Tampa for work. Although it was colder than normal (mid 60's), it was still absolutely gorgeous.


I worked all last week and then, on Friday, Mrs. Zombie flew down and we spent the weekend - just the two of us - enjoying some quality time without dealing with dumb dogs, cleaning the house, arguing kids, or any of the other bazillion distractions normal life has in store for us.


The sad part is that, yesterday morning, I was here...

I woke up this morning to....

I'd never move to Florida as I enjoy the change of seasons Cleveland has... but Jesus Titty Fucking Christ is it hard to love Cleveland when it's 15 degrees and there's a foot and a- goddamn-half of snow!!!

P.S. Check out the effective use of the snow trench for the garbage can. Normally, we cut a hole in the tree lawn for the mailman, so he doesn't have to walk around, but it also serves as a place for the garbage cans. I think about all of the native Floridian's I spoke to last week and have to laugh because they'll never experience the joys of sub-freezing temperatures and stupid amounts of snow. Too bad for them...

Wasting TIme...

So I found a couple quick links that will undoubtedly impact your work productivity negatively.

Believe me, they did for me...

The first is the wonder that is the Marvel Superhero generator. You can use this awesome little tool to make yourself into the Marvel Superhero you've always dreamed of being. My only question is - where the hell was this when I was playing the Villains and Vigilantes RPG's back in high school and college!?!?

Next we have this awesome bit of Internet wizardry. If you'll remember, a few months back, someone got a copy of David Lee Roth's audio tracks from the Running With The Devil recording session. They posted it on the internet and every radio dj and blogger was commenting on it. Many lambasted it and made fun of it, but I loved it. I'm biased, because I'm an old school David Lee Roth fan. I love him for his talent, his voice, his hubris, his planet-sized ego, and his unwillingness to accept that it's been over 25 years since women under the age of 40 find him hot. Anyway, someone took those recordings, cut them up, and put them into a soundboard. Enjoy!

By the way, take Dr. Zombie's advice here: I would not recommend that you call your wife's work and use the soundboard to leave 12 -15 Diamond Dave messages over a 4 or so hour period. Apparently, wives hate that. So much so, that she'll wait until you fall asleep and then mercilessly beat you with a piece of soap in a sock, just like Pvt. Joker beat Pvt. Pile in Kubrick's Full Metal Jacket.

On a related note, I'm healing nicely thank you. The soap-shaped stomach bruises are starting to finally fade...

Attack Ships on Fire...

So... I recently watched Blade Runner again and, once again, realized it is one of the coolest damn movies EVER made.


Period.


I especially I love the scene where Roy Batty is about to die and he looks at Dekker and says, "I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser gate. All those moments will be lost in time... like tears in rain... "


This soliloquy was especially poignant to me this time around because I have been in a weird funk as of late. I wrote about it a few posts ago (or - more appropriately - whined about it) when I wrote about my aging musical tastes.


I'm not certain why I'm suddenly so nostalgic, or feeling my age so strongly. Either way, the last month or so's seen lots of Cure, Sisters of Mercy, Depeche Mode, and other music that came from a younger, brighter time of my life.


And I've also been rewatching many of the movies as well - hence my rewatching of Blade Runner.

To help with my growing ennui, I've decided to makea commitment to myself and my writing.

I've decided to make many of my this year about memories.


I plan to periodically post little glimpses into things that I've seen in my life that will be lost for all time unless I commit them to paper - or, in this case - to the electronic ether this blog represents.


So - in that vein - here is a memory of one of the coolest things I've ever seen....


I posted this on Zombie Squad a month ago, but thought it would fit perfectly into my own Replicant history.

Back a few years ago, I helped my buddy Richie and his then girlfriend, Dr. Michelle, move back to Ohio from Oregon.

We had stopped at Mt. Rushmore and, as we were leaving, there was suddenly a rumble like a passing train. The rumble grew and turned into a a deafening crack of thunder and, in the growing gloom of the approaching nightfall, a searing stitch of lightning filled the distant sky. We hurried into our cars and resumed our trip, leaving the Black Hills under cover of one of the most incredible lightning storms I've ever seen.

After a few hours of the brilliant lightning and thunder, it started to eventually rain. And it wasn't normal rain. It was pouring rain - cataclysmic rain.

So I'm in Dr. Michelle's car (she's sleeping in the passenger seat), and I'm following Richie's truck across the high desert in a driving storm.

The sky was filled with an awe-inspiring electrical show and the wind blew dirt and sand and tumbleweeds across the seemingly endless ribbon of highway that stretched into stormy blackness before us. The thunder was like the angry roar of an avalanche and lightning crisscrossed the sky like brilliant spiderwebs spun by giant, god-like spiders.

We'd been on the road for a few days, and we were all tired, so you can imagine my surprise when - as the rain fell in shimmering, wind swept sheets and the lightning lit the inky darkness with brilliant blasts of daytime - the desert road was suddenly filled with toads.

That's right... it was a plague of toads. Millions of the little bastards.

They were pouring out of the ditches on the side of the highway like water boiling up out of a pot. In horror, we drove for a half hour through the rain, and lightning, and thunder, and fucking TOADS -- with Richie's 1968 Chevy pickup truck cutting a swath through the poor amphibious bastards.

We stopped some hours later and were standing at a gas station in the middle of
nowhere, Richie and I both drinking Jolt Colas and leaning against the building. We sat in companionable silence, slurping on the syrupy, caffeinated evil that is Jolt Cola and watching Dr. Michelle continue sleeping in the front seat of her car.

"So," I says, "did you... ummm. Hmmm... I'm really tired. I think I might have
been hallucinating for a little bit back there. You didn't see... umm... toads,
did you?"

"DUDE!" Richie yells, with a look of total relief, "I thought I was totally
losing my mind! There were toads everywhere! They were popping under my
tires!"

... to this day, Dr. Michelle refuses to believe us that it happened.

Movie Review - Quarantine (2008)

Quarantine is a scene for scene remake of the Spanish horror film, [REC]. I saw Quarantine with no preconceived notions as I haven't had time to see the original film it was based on. All I knew was that [REC] has been hailed as one of the best foreign horror films to come along in awhile and has been mentioned along with Let The Right One In and Haut Tension as examplars of some of the great stuff that is being made outside of the US.

Additionally, on the mainstream horror sites out there - like Bloody Disgusting and Dread Central - Quarantine was showing up equally on Best and Worst lists by various horror writers. That alone was reason enough for me to make a point of checking it out. I should note, the drama around this movie falls into a couple different camps. The first is those who hate it because it is an almost scene for scene remake of another movie. The cries of anguish by the people who lament 'Big Hollywood' and its oppression of smaller, independent film - while being in some cases valid - is also somewhat annoying because the system is the system. Accept it and move on. I understand this and adjust my viewing based on what I can and can't tolerate. For instance, I refuse to watch PG-13 movies because - as a hardcore horror fan - I simply will not tolerate horror that is watered down, antiseptic, and acceptable to viewing by the average 13 year old.

The second camp is dedicated to those who hate the recent onslaught of 'Reality Horror'; movies like Romero's Diary of the Dead, or Cloverfield, or genre progenitor, The Blair Witch Project. Where I agree that it has yet to be done well, and done effectively, it's still much better than some of the other trends out there in horror. J-Horror comes to mind. J-horror - for those who don't know - is the endless stream of remakes of Japanese horror films that are coming out. Things like The Grudge, The Ring, or the other bazillion movies that have been remade and packaged as the scariest things in the world. Ghosts aren't scary, dude. No matter how white and pasty you make them, and no matter how herky jerky you make them move across the floor. There's a cultural difference between what scares the Japanese, and what scares Americans; and ghosts don't cut it here in 'Mer'ka.

That and most of them are fucking PG-13.

Anyway - I was excited to see Quarantine because - truthfully - I'm as big a fan of reality horror as you can get and I'm still looking for a film that makes me believe that it's happening and it's real. Cloverfield came close, but it still had some level of polish that belied the believability. Well - until I'd seen Quarantine - I was disappointed. I'm excited to say that Quarantine finally proved that it's possible to make a reality horror film that doesn't feel improbable.

Quarantine tells the story of a news team who spend the night with some fireman in LA. The news crew consists of an on-air personality and her cameraman, and they ride along with two brash, but charming, firemen to a call at an apartment building. When they arrive, they find themselves suddenly thrust into a horrifying nightmare and trapped in the building, quarantined with its diverse occupants and an infection that turns its victims into insane, cannibalistic monsters.

The film has a very simple plot and premise, but it is executed to near horror perfection. I'm not really spoiling anything by telling you that the terror here is a type of infection... one could have figured it out based on the commercials and the title... but it is utilized to full effect.

The film moves at a quick pace, but doesn't feel rushed, and the camera work is exactly what one would expect from a news camera person. And that is where other reality horror films have failed. Whereas they use people with camcorders and often forget the limitations of their premise (ie; they use edits and camera technique that are obviously contrived and professional), Quarantine's camerawork becomes a part of the drama and has the feel of raw footage one would receive from, say, a war correspondent. The 'get the shot, no matter what' attitude adds to the story, and doesn't detract.

The acting was top notch, even the acting done by Jennifer Carpenter. Jennifer Carpenter plays the on air reporter and gives a strong and believable performance here. You may know Carpenter as Deb Morgan, the profane and flawed sister of everybody's favorite serial killer, Dexter. Dexter is one of my favorite television shows right now and I have always been, truthfully, disappointed by Jennifer Carpenter's work on that show. On a show with such a stellar cast and such superb talent, Carpenter's work has always seemed sub-par. This movie, though, is the perfect vehicle for her over the top delivery and performance.

At the end especially - her terror is played as though she is really and truly feeling it. She is near hysterical with fear, and Jennifer Carpenter carries the weight of all of the horror and insanity she's witnessed and makes it personal for us, the viewer. The decline of her character - from a smart, witty, self-assured career newswoman; to a terrified, hyperventilating, traumatized wreck - is fascinating to watch.

The supporting cast does an equally great job. The majority of the actors were unknowns and this worked to the story's advantage. With the exception of a couple familiar character actors - one felt that this really could have been a real crisis situation.

And, an advantage of the realistic camera work that worked incredibly well was the frequent use of jump scares. Normally, jump startles are telegraphed and - honestly -are the work of lazy, inexperienced, or bad directors. Not so in this case. There were probably a half dozen or more jump scares and every one worked to full effect. Kudos to the director and DP.

The infected, by the way, fucking rocked. One could make the argument that they're alive and, like Danny Boyle's 28 Days Later infected, weren't zombies in the purest sense. But I've never been one to get my panties in a bunch with that distinction like other zombie fans do. The fact is that the infected in Quarantine are psychotic flesh eaters who no longer feel pain is close enough to a zombie to count. And, as the movie progresses and the tension builds, the terror the infected represent is chilling and deliciously played out. And, the setting adds perfectly to the agonizing horror. Director John Erick Dowdle does a phenomenal job of making the apartment building a character in its own right. The claustrophobia and terror of being trapped and quarantined in a building with the infected is downright awesome.

To give you a feel for how palpable this fear was; imagine yourself trapped in a small five story walkup apartment with ten zombies. Now make them the running, insanely fast and aggressive zombies of Zack Snyder's Dawn of the Dead remake.

Fracking. Awesome. Dude!

One final point, this movie did something I normally hate in a movie. It gives an explanation or origin for the problem. I've railed against this before, and in other reviews, but in this case I'm ok with it. The 'explanation' actually works and adds to the story and realism, as well as provides additional terror for the principals.

All in all, this film is - in Doctor Zombie's not so humble opinion - probably one of the best horror films of 2008. In fact, it's so good, it's made me want to see the original Spanish-language [REC] to see how it compares. Unfortunately, as many who are smarter than me have said, the disadvantage to seeing some great horror movies is that you can't see them again for the first time.

So... get out there! Find Quarantine and see it. I would even go so far as to recommend that you see it in a theater because the effective use of jump scares works so much better when you're in a full theater with people screaming and reacting along with you.

I do have one major gripe - and I'm adding it here at the end. It is a bit of a spoiler so stop reading now if spoilers piss you off. I'll wait...

SPOILERS COMING (Click and highlight the space below to see...)

The poster above, and all of the advertising for the movie, basically tell you how the movie ends. In fact, because they'd played the trailer as they did on television ad nauseum, the whole last ten minutes of the movie is - in my mind - made less and to me - almost ruined it. Where I understand the powerfulness of this imagery made this movie seem really scary and creepy, and contributed to getting people in the seats to see it... I also felt it detracted.

A small gripe - but a gripe nonetheless...

END OF SPOILERS...


...and end of review. SEE THIS MOVIE! You won't be disappointed! Dr. Z. promises!!!

Doctor Zombies Rating: 5 out of 5 Chomped Brains!!!

A Non-Christmasy Post

So - in lieu of a happy, cheery Christmas post - wishing you and yours some saccharine greeting... I've decided to wax nostalgic.

So - three weeks ago, I called up my brothers Richie and Phil because I saw, in one of the advertising sidebars of my Facebook page, that The Sisters of Mercy was touring. And, by sheer luck, they were coming to Cleveland like a week later.

Doctor Zombie, being the old school Goth that he is, could not pass up the chance to see Ian Eldritch and whoever else he was playing with. I LOVE The Sisters of Mercy. It is one of my favorite old school Goth bands of all time. And Richie and Phil feel the same. We grew up listening to Temple of Love and Vision Thing and, best of all, Floodland.

Floodland is one of those albums - like the Cure's Disintegration - that is an essential part of my life. They were both life changing when I first heard them and I still listen to them today.

So we went to Cleveland's House of Blues, had some dinner, and then made our way over to the theater... to find ourselves in an empty room. Seriously. After a few beers, and after the opening band started playing, a few more people filtered in. By the time The Sisters of Mercy finally started playing, there were probably two or three dozen people total.

Which I find amazing. Even allowing for my obvious bias towards the band... I was honestly shocked that there weren't more people. Sisters of Mercy, in my mind, is on par with The Cure, or Bauhaus, or any of the other influential and formative alternative Goth bands from the 80's. I was almost embarrassed for Cleveland.

The show itself was fucking awesome. Ian, who's now bald, still has a weird affinity for big Highway Patrol cop sunglasses, but he sounds as good live as he does on the albums. He did go a bit overboard with the fog machines (there were times where the entire stage and band was obscured by fog) and, for some unknown reason, they left the house lights up throughout the show.

But the concert was incidental... at least to why I'm writing this. I'm writing this because I realize that my love for 80's Goth bands is one more sign that I'm getting old. I turned 38 twelve days ago... and I'm in a weird place as a result. There are times when I still feel like I'm in my 20's, and then there are times when I'm struck by the fact that I'm middle aged. I got that feeling at the concert. There I was, in a room full of old people; some of them still firmly believing that it's 1985 and dressing like it. Yikes! Thank the dark gods that I at least dress my age - besides a predilection for black clothing and horror movie themed t-shirts.

But the point is... have I become like my father?

My father only listens to the classic rock stations and, sometime back in the 8o's, stopped listening to new music. I love that he gave me an appreciation for classic music. Mrs. Zombie is amazed that, while she was listening to 50's and 60's music with her parents; my musical education included Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Deep Purple, The Moody Blues, and Ted Nugent.

And - here's where my father frustrates me - he doesn't believe that Pink Floyd made anything worthwhile after The Wall.

That's where my fear lies. That I've reached an age where anything new is alien and foreign; something to be avoided and shunned.

I do make a point of listening to more modern music. I love some of the new bands out there and have enough self respect to make sure I stay up to date... but I'm also noticing an inflexibility to my tastes. I've always been a music snob with an abhorrence of the soullessness of Pop music. And country music is just as bad. But I also find myself now dismissing nu-metal's rap, and despising Emo-rock.

And the aches and pains I feel now weren't there even a mere five years ago.

For instance... back in my middle twenties, I had an incident occur that may or may not have involved a pickup truck going at least 30 miles an hour, a not insubstantial amount of Guinness and Irish whiskey, and the misguided notion that I could successfully jump and roll harmlessly to the frozen February ground from said moving vehicle. My attempts to act like an action hero resulted in my tearing all of the ligaments, and severely damaging the joint, in my left ankle. Being young and stupid, I killed my pain with more Guinness and Irish whiskey, did a few months of rehab, and then, in April, through-hiked portions of the Appalachian Trail.

Now though, especially considering the bitter cold we've been experiencing here in northern Ohio of late, my ankle has been constantly throbbing. I suspect there may be some rheumatism setting in.

Is this the way I'm going to go out? Old and unable to walk, while my children roll their eyes behind my wrinkled back as they have to suffer - once again - through Robert Smith and the Cure's Disintegration, when they'd just rather be listening to Rihanna on Q104?

And Facebook hasn't helped. I enjoy the social networking aspects, but I don't need to be reminded of my mortality by being contacted by people who I haven't talked to since high school or college. Just this week, I've been contacted by several college friends and a few high school friends. Nothing like seeing ex-girlfriends or college drinking buddies to make you feel the years... and make one wax nostalgic about the halcyon days of college. Those days when The Sisters of Mercy was new and I was cool and I had my whole life stretched before me like a storm cloud.

To make it worse, I got an email on one of my best of Doctor Zombie posts a few weeks ago. I had written about The Cure and how, as I'm sure everyone's experienced certain songs transport you back to certain times of your life. The post was about my old college house, and my friends I lived with. A poster named FilliaDei made me reread it again and I felt that bittersweet swell of nostalgia all over.

Oddly enough, maybe this post IS about Christmas. Is this the depression that they talk about? The depression that many suffer at Christmas?

I don't know. Either way, I'm old. And I feel it.

So... to give some closure to this maudlin and rambling post... here's a couple old videos of The Sisters of Mercy from a time when I was younger and less cynical and bitter.

Please don't mind the cheesy 80's hair and video conventions. Listen for the music because - as I said - The Sisters of Mercy (or more specifically - Ian Eldridge) are musical geniuses.

May your Yule be Crampas free, dear and constant reader....

I Can't Stop Watching This!

Found Via Dr. Fong's house of Mystery...

It's hypnotic, the music is addicting, and I'm pretty sure that everyone of these cute dancing robots will become whirling machines of death and suffering when Skynet becomes self aware and decides to destroy all of humanity.

But it's so damned hypnotic!

Dare you to watch it just once!

Some Winter House Cleaning

So - once again - I was monumentally bored at my security job and spent the better part of a 3rd shift surfing the internet.

Rather than attempt to find the bowels of the WWW, or to prevent my literally killing somebody because the hospital's stupid firewall won't let me access any fetish porn... I decided to do some cleaning of the site.

Truthfully, I've made a committment to myself (and, by extension, YOU my lovely undead minions and constant readers) to be better about my blog because I need the exercise it provides me in terms of my writing. And also because the soul-sucking abyss that is Facebook has led me to completely neglect the old blog.

So, what did I do?

Well, primarily, I cleaned out a bunch of broken and dead links on my blogroll. Although many of them were hilarious and I developed some great contacts through them, many of them hadn't had any updates in as long as a year or so. Also, I added a bunch of new blogs and sites that have caught my attention as of late. You'll notice a distinctly Cleveland and Ohio slant to many of them, and that was done on purpose. I wanted to showcase some of the great creative stuff coming out of Ohio's Northcoast.

Another thing I've been considering lately is putting together a writer's group for local Horror, Fantasy, and Sci-Fi writers. I'll actually be putting an ad out on Cleveland Craigslist in the next few weeks looking for other like-minded ghouls who'd like to meet on a monthly basis to workshop some writing. I feel that writer's groups and workshopping offer an invaluable tool to any writer and are also fertile grounds for creativity.

That being said, I decided to check out some local writers and maybe feel them out to see if they'd be interested in meeting up for coffee/pints and some mutual critiquing.

So, I'll be frequently updating the blogroll to showcase new local blogs that interest me.

And - by the way - if you're a regular reader and writer, and are interested in joing a Horror Writer's group, shoot me an email at doctorzmbie(AT)gmail(DOT)com.


Even if I can just get three or four writers together, it'll help us all be better writers in the end.

Where Dr. Zombie's Soul Dies...

...a little bit everyday.

We got a really nice new camera for work and I was playing around with it in my cube. It's a Nikon D40 and it takes some awesome pictures, even when you're just pointing and shooting.

So, I thought I'd post them up so you could see where Dr. Zombie works when he's not building death rays in his lab beneath the Midnight Theater of Terror!


The view as you approach the Cube of Doom!



The shelf with my Stars Wars/Star Trek/Horror/Voodoo/Happy Meal toys. Yes, it's like a kindergarten playroom at my desk!(Take special note of my uber-tactical Maxpedition Last Resort attache case. It carries my laptop and most anything I need to get home in case there's an EMP or zombie apocalypse.)



A closer look at the shelf of fun!


Pictures, cartoons, Starfleet communicators, and Harley stuff...



Aaahhhh! There's Borg in the shrubbery! "You will be assimilated. resistance is fut...? Oh wait! Too late! You're already a corporate zombie. You're much too boring for The Collective. Sorry. Now, move along!"



Godzilla says... "Eeearrrcccggghh! Back to work, slacker!"



Close up of the shelf of fun and some Star Trek toys. Next to Little Jean Luc Picard is the hand from a kitschy, dollar store ceramic Jesus that my friend Chrissy had on her desk and I accidentally broke. She made me take it, hoping that it would remind me of my blasphemy and make me feel guilty. Really, it just makes me laugh. I mean, it's the hand of Jesus. On my desk! How hilarious is that?!?



My prized 20th anniversary collectible Halloween snow globe. When you shake it, it snows blood!



A little Jack, The Pumpkin King and Zero to watch over my Bic pens!



Sometimes even Doctor Zombuie gets stressed and needs the inspirational wisdom of a motivational poster. My motivator is Bruce Campbell... because he fucking rocks!


Hope you enjoyed visiting Doctor Zombie at work! We should do this more often... make it an annual thing. Like, Bring an Undead Minion to Work Day. We can get some t-shirts made. It'd be cool!

Movie Review - Zombie Strippers (2008)

Zombie Strippers was actually a flick I'd really, really looked forward to seeing and I can honestly say I was not disappointed in any way. In a word -- Zombie Strippers is full of win.

Cheesy, tasty, deep-fried win.

Full of cliches, campiness, and horrible acting - Zombie Strippers tells the story of a secret government weaponized zombie virus that escapes a top secret government labratory in Sartre, Nebraska. It ends up in a strip club where... oh shit, who am I kidding?

The story doesn't matter, man. What matters is that there's ZOMBIES, BOOBS, STRIPPERS, and lots and lots of POLE DANCING.

With appearances by genre god Robert Englund and uber-pornstar Jenna Jameson, this movie revels in how awful it actually is. It dives into the bottom of the septic tank of b-movies and wallows in the fragrant awesomeness it finds there. It's sexy, funny, and self aware in its campiness.

The acting is horrible, with the exception of Robert Englund - who's slumming here - but loving every minute of it. I imagine that some of the other actors and actresses HAVE to be better actors than they let on in this, because they can't be that bad normally. We're talking high school drama club bad - - and the awfulness just makes me love this movie even more.

The best part is that - in an attempt to make a movie about zombified strippers seem somehow highbrow - the plot is a rough retelling of Romanian playwright and Theater of the Absurd movement auteur, Eugene Ionesko's, allegorical play, Rhinoceros. Add to that the reference to Existentialist philosopher, Jean Paul Sartre, and you've got a case study in irony. Remember - this is a movie about ZOMBIE STRIPPERS!

What shines in this movie is the awesome makeup work. Effects supervisor Patrick Magee blew the films budget on some great work here, folks. It's gory, and the zombie makeup is incredible. He manages to make the main stripper characters look gloriously undead, while ensuring that they maintain unquestionable zombie hotness! This movie is a spankfest for necrophiles everywhere.

Of the other actresses in the film, the standout is Jeannette Sousa as Berenge. She's beautiful and rises above the rest of the cast in terms of her acting ability. I was less impressed by porn slut Jenna Jameson. She had a lead role and one would think that, after making hundreds of porn flicks, she'd have taken an acting class or two in her day. (Of course, in all honesty, she became the queen of her chosen business for talents not at all related to acting. Moaning in a lesbian squirt porn does not an Academy Award nominee make...).

Jenna - here's some free advice, doll: If you're going to go legitimate and try to become a serious actress... take a page or two from the Traci Lords book of career resuscitation. DON'T star in a flick called Zombie Strippers and spend 80% of the movie NAKED. We get that your a filthy whore... no need to keep reminding us.

So - if you're looking for a good laugh and a great time, definitely pick up Zombie Strippers. There are times when one needs to sit down, turn off their brain, and revel in mindless, funny entertainment. Bearing that in mind, don't let any level of your higher reasoning engage while watching this. Seriously. Sometimes, it's just kick ass to be dumb sometimes and this flick is all about the dumb. And I mean dumb in the good sense! Doctor Zombie highly recommends!

Doctor Zombie's Rating: 4 out of 5 Chomped Brains!!!

Metallica Rules!

Nice title, huh? Imagine me saying that, wearing my Metallica Ride The Lightning t-shirt, with ripped jeans, and a mullet.

Scary image, huh?


So why am I titling this, "Metallica Rules?" Well, mainly because they do. I found this yesterday and I wanted to get it posted up ASAP.

You need to go, RIGHT NOW, and check out Metallica's new video for "All Nightmare Long". It's all about, as the title says, Spores, Soviets, and Zombies. Yes, zombies. This is totally kick ass! The beginning is incredible and well put together (although poorly CGI'd), and the middle is somewhat disappointing, but the disappointment is purely a result of the switch to Heavy Metal-like animation.

But then, when you think about it, Heavy Metal fucking rocked.. so it's okay! I love it!



Let's see, what other links have I been sitting on a while?

Oh, here's a great (although somewhat lengthy) blog post by Roger Ebert about Ben Stein's scientifically sparse pro-Intelligent Design and Creationism documentary, Expelled. It's a great read and well put together. For my part, I think ID proponents are nuttier than squirrel shit... but to each his own. IF you want to believe that some benevolent sky elf put people on the Earth and that it's insulting to think that we're related to monkeys, fish, or prehistoric protozaoans - that's your deal. Don't expect me to tolerate your trying to teach your voodoo to my kids. And voodoo is what it is... Intelligent Design was created specifically to backdoor Creationism back into schools. One of the better points that Ebert makes is the idea of 'excluding the middle'. This movie does a whole lot of that. It pushes the idea that Evangelical Christians believe in Creationism, and everybody else who doesn't subscribe to it is wrong. And, when attention is drawn to the middle that they're excluding (mainly Christians who may actually believe in Evolution) they're written off as 'Liberal' Christians and are marginalized. Ahhh... "Liberal". That evil label that the right uses all the time to discredit anyone who doesn't believe what they do and is used to somehow suggest that those who are labeled are inferior, ignorant, and weak. Anyway... a great read, so check it out.

I do want to make one more point, and several people made comments to this effect on Ebert's blog post. I do see that there is bias in other documentaries out there. Michael Moore, Bill Maher, and Morgan Spurlock's documentaries come to mind. In fact, I see this as a tremendous failing in most current documentaries and - by way of extension - Hollywood's way of thinking. Liberal or conservative, there is this unneccessary political bias to these sorts of documentaries and I do want to concede that the Left is just as guilty of this as the Right.

But that doesn't mean I still won't make fun of the Right-wing, Fundie loonies!

In other zombie related news... Rob Zombie has a new website with all things Zombie on it. There's great web design work here and there are tons of cool links. Especially to my favorite t-shirt shop, Halloweentown. I have a collection of cool horror related t-shirts and the majority come from Halloweentown. Also, if you're as big a Rob Zombie fan as doctor Zombie is... you can actually get Rob Zombie autographed memoribilia from them. It's been a while since I checked, but they had autographed DVD's of Rob's movies, Posters, and thing slike that. Way cool, brother. Way cool.

Also, the new site is a great place to keeop track of the upcoming release of Rob's new animated feature - The Haunted World of El Superbeasto...


Finally - because I find that I'm fascinated by news stories about cannibalism... there's this news piece. I don't know what my obsession with cannibalism is, and I know it's probably creepy as hell, but I just can't seem to get enough of stories about the depths of depravity and starvation one must reach to gnaw on some long pork. Best quote of the story? "It tasted like beef."

That's all, dear readers. I'm on my way down to the lab nwo to fire up the charcoal and find some barbecue sauce. I'm feeling a tad peckish..

Movie Review - Zombie Honeymoon (2004)

I've recently upgraded my Netflix account so that I can actually get more zombie flicks than I've been... so that means more reviews for you, my faithful and undead readers!

Much to the dismay of Mrs. Zombie, every other movie on the queue is now a horror or zombie movie of some sort. So, between the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants II, Mary Poppins, and Madagascar that were normally taking up precious Netflix space - space that I was paying for mind you - one can now find the newest, greatest, and undoubtedly lamest horror flicks out there.

Zombie Honeymoon was one of the first fruits that were borne to me with my new Doctor Zombie Netflix Selfishness Plan.

Zombe Honeymoon, appropriately, tells the story of a couple who get married and run off to the Jersey Shore to spend their honeymoon. They're both young and punky and the husband is a surfer (In New Jersey?).

They are renting a beach house from an uncle and, as they bask in their new nuptials, tragedy of the zombie-type ensues. Denise, the pretty wife, and Danny, the husband, are enjoying the beach when Danny is attacked by and barfed on by a zombie that staggers out of the surf.

Danny becomes a zombie and the rest of the movie explores the tagline of the movie..."In sickness and in health!"; and while Danny tries to control his unnatural hunger for human flesh, Denise spends the movie trying to reconcile her love for Danny and his sudden prediliction for abducting, killing, and eating everyone who they come in contact with.

This zombie movie is unique in that it throws many of the conventions of a traditional zombie flick out the window. In other words, if you're a zombie purist, this movie is going to piss you the fuck off.

If you're more open-minded, however, you may actually get some enjoyment out of it.

How does it buck convention? Well, primarily, Danny - while looking paler and a little sicker - doesn't really rot and fall apart right away. Much of the movie he looks normal. Also, he talks and acts normal, except for an insatiable hunger for human flesh. Of course - by the end he's a ravenous, gory, decomposing mess... but it takes him a bit to get there.

The movie is less a zombie movie and more a movie about the love and relationship of a couple facing adversity. Normally, this would induce cursing and wailing and the angered gnashing of Doctor Zombie's undead teeth -- but the movie is redeemed by some good gore. And, although it rises very little above its low budget niche, it does tell an interesting story.

Most of the actors were of the usual, poorly seasoned rookies who would naturally star in low budget, direct-to-video zombie fare; but the obvious standout was the actress who played Denise - Irish actress, Tracy Coogan. She was incredibly attractive and gave the character of Denise a sexiness that transcended the otherwise low production quality. She was made more sexy by the fact that she can't entirely hide her Irish accent. What can Dr. Zombie say - I'm an Irish boy and I love Irish lasses! It helps that she looks like a hotter version of Corey Feldman's wife, Susie Fledman.

And, although director and writer David Gebroe wrote this with the intention of purging some personal demons (he made the movie and based it on the true story of two friends, one of whom died on their honeymoon) he did an admirable job of making it scary enough to not get lost and wallow in the romantic crap.

One standout scene was towards the end when, as Danny becomes less and less human, he kills several people and Denise is trapped in the house with him as he feeds. Torn between her love for Danny and her trust that he won't hurt her, she's also terrified by the monster he's become. Her terror and anomie is palpable and it is made devastatingly more visceral in that, as she is cowering in her room, Danny is feeding dowstairs. The scene is downright disturbing and the sound of Danny gnoshing on his victims throughout is spot on and delightfully chilling. It makes a brilliant counterpoint to Denise's horror.

Speaking of sound, the music was great. The soundtrack was a good combination of surf rock, ska, old school punk, and reggae. The music helped the story and, honestly, pleased the Doctor immensely. In fact, the videography, coupled with the old punk opening of the movie made it necessary for me to pause and double check the date of the movie. It had a retro 80's feel to it that may or may not have made me feel like I was watching something from the golden era of 80's horror. Perhaps that's why I was so forgiving of a film that is a zombie movie only tangentially.

So, in the final analysis, I was pleased and didn't feel like I'd totally wasted my time. It had good gore, an interesting story, and - although it wasn't a traditional zombie film - it was still good. If you happen to catch it on a cable channel, or want to rent it because you need to feed your zombie habit, you could do worse. Doctor Z. recommends it. Seriously. Additionally, it's won several independent film fests and it does so by finding a good balance between being a quirky independent film and a zombie genre homage - so take that for what it's worth...

Doctor Zombies Rating: 4 out of 5 Chomped Brains!!!