Bored at 4:45 in the morning...

So it's another boring shift here at the hospital.

It's 4:45am, and I've not had to tie anyone to bed, beat them unconscious, or hold themd own while the local police taser'd them. Sigh.

So, to pass the time, I was perusing my blogroll when I ran across Randal Graves post over on his blog - L'ennui Melodieux. he's rising to the challenge of another blogger (UberMilf)who's instituting a flash fiction exercise. Always willing to stretch myself creatively, I've decided I too would like to give it a shot.

If anything, it'll keep me awake for the rest of my interminable security shift.

To challenge myself even more, I will do a minimum of editing on this and post it as is. Here goes...

She was suddenly gripped by...

the realization that she was going to - undoubtedly - need therapy. 'How the hell did I get here,?' she thought as she wiped a shaky hand across her mouth. Thes nervous gesture spread the blood on her lips like a smear of heavy, red, clotted lipstick.

She looked down at the man that, only an hour ago, she had invited up to her apartment after a wonderous date that had included dinner, dancing, and a chaste kiss on her doorstep. He now lay naked on her bed, his eyes open and staring vacantly at the ceiling.

The decision to invite him up had been impulsive, and she knew she would regret it in the morning; but he had been so nice, and he was so pretty.

And his smell! She had spent the night luxuriating in the clean, manly scent of him. She remembered leaning close to him when they'd danced just to smell his white shirt and the irresistably male scent that he exuded. It was a heady mix of cologne and sweat and strength, if strength could have a smell.

She could smell his scent on her even now, but it was different now - mixed as it was with the coppery, wet smell of blood.

She sat back, laying across the pillows on her bed, as the sweat and blood cooled on her bare skin. Outside her open window, a horn blared angrily and - somewhere in the distance - she could hear music playing in the cool night.

"Yes," she said to the boy's dead body, "I'm going to need therapy someday..."

She sat up once again and leaned over, licking one of the jagged wounds on his body, "I'm going to need therapy to help me understand why I can never stay on a diet!"

And she smiled, surprised at herself.

She wasn't surprised that she'd killed and cannibalized her unsuspecting suitor... she was surprised that she'd done it so soon again after promising herself she'd show more restraint.

Enough is enough...

Well - as the election draws near, and Obama's victory becomes an almost certainty, I find my inbox filled with emails claiming all of the lies that have pestered the Obama campaign since the announcement that Barack was going to run. Taking a page from the Karl Rove/Swift Boat Veterans handbook - the conservatives are cranking up the lies and static in the hopes of swinging ANY votes John 'Frankenstein' McCain's way.

My father's the worst offender, but I'm finding myself receiving emails about the evil Muslim conspiracy that an Obama candidacy represents from some unexpected quarters.People feel the need to send me things, knowing nothing about how I feel about the case.

I've had enough.

So - to that end - I've composed the following to respond to all of them with.

To whomever sent me the attached, Anti-Obama e-mail,

Most of us have heard the admonition, "My mother said one should never talk about religion or politics". I'm reminded of this because - as the coming Presidential election grows nearer - it seemsthat many otherwise intelligent people seem to have lost sight of this very appropriate aphorism. And, truthfully, those that have and who continue to forward chain emails of the like you have are quite simply rude and should be ashamed of themselves. In other words, simple politeness and common sense dictates that one should not force their religious or political views upon another. Especially when said views are unwanted. Which is actually quite funny because I have shown restraint and an overwhelming amount of self-control in not expressing MY contrary political views to YOU. So, just so we are all clear, your anti-abortion, hate-mongering, thinly veiled racist screed against the Democratic presidential nominee you sent me was univited, rude, and patenty offensive to me.

However, since you've opened the door and feel that it's okay to discuss you're loathsome Conservative agenda with me... I feel it only right that you allow me to express my views with you. It's only fair, after all.

To that point:

Barack Obama is not, nor has he ever been, a Muslim. - Despite the Republican Party's unconvincing denial that they've done nothing to perpetuate this rumor, the fact of the matter is that it is still persistant and I find it exasperating that otherwise intelligent - and often college educated - adults cling to this lie as justification for not voting for him. And truthfully, what would it fucking matter if he WAS a Muslim. Do you fear America becoming some sort of Islamic Theocracy because the Presidential Candidate is part of some swarthy, Middle Eastern conspiracy to turn America into New Tehran?!? Are you really so stupid as to believe that? Let me explain something to you... when the Constitution was written in 1787, the framers of our Democracy laid out a very sturdy system. Ever heard of the 'checks and balances of power'? Well, that very same system prevents the Chief of the Executive Branch from becoming a dictator - political or otherwise. What this means is that the President can decree that every American needs to strip naked and paint our nipples blue, but if Congress and the Supreme Counrt aren't down with it, it isn't going to happen. never mind the fact that his decreeing it isn't going to make Americans do it. Same with your religion. So stop it already. He's not a Muslim and it doesn't matter if he is anyway. Two final points I want to make on this... and the first is suppositional. I find it odd that Catholics are so anti-Obama based on this fact. "Why?" you may ask? Well, because back in 1960, much of the same sort of accusations where leveled against John F. Kennedy because he was a Catholic. It was much of the same Papist discrimination and whisperings that have dogged Catholics since the time of King Henry VIII. I'm just saying... Anyway, my final point is to ask for some introspection on your part... are you perpetuating this proven lie about Obama beinga Muslim because you really fear the man and what he stands for, or because it is another way of saying Obama's, "not like US." In other words, is it an excuse to be a racist without it appearing blatantly so? Just because we're in a war with Muslim extremists does not make all Muslims bad, nor does being a Muslim automatically make someone un-American. Republicans can demonize liberals all they want, and it has become acceptable to imply that liberals don't love America as much as conservatives do. Jingoism is never pretty, my friend. And I dare you to call me - an avowed Liberal - un-American. I was a Boy Scout, I would willingly serve my country if called upon to do so, and I love the United States. To imply that I'm not American is a fighting offense, and I guarantee you I will throw down with you because of it. Consider yourself warned.

Roe V. Wade is the law of the land. Fucking deal with it already. Who are you to tell another women -or any women for that matter - what they can or can't do with their own body? And whining, crying, and showing pictures of aborted fetuses is not going to change it. I am ecstatic that the Conservative agenda on this point will be held off for at least the foreseeable future. Sarah Palin is horrifying and any women who - in good conscious - votes or supports her should be ashamed of herself. And to claim that a girl who has been a victim of rape or incest should be forced to bring the abominable offspring to term is an offense so grotesque as to be almost criminal. Do yourself a favor, dont listen to the bullshit that your priest, pastor or Pope has fed you and ask yourself who's health is more important - a woman with a life and responsibilities or a clump of cells less complex then any other organ in her body until the final trimester? And if you're a guy... don't even answer. You've no say until you get a pair of ovaries and have to face the terror of an unwanted pregnancy. Here's another way to think of it; your religious views are yours... keep them to yourself. You can make the choice to carry a child to term and then throw it into the already overwhelmed and underfunded gristmill that is the foster and adoption system. Good for you. Other womem have choices, and those include birth control and the wholly legal act of abortion. You know the best part of being an American? It's freedom to choose your own path in life. And, f you don't agree with someone else's choices -- too fucking bad.

The idea that Barack Obama's experience as a community organizer, IL State Senator, and US Senator is somehow insufficient when compared to Sarah Palin's is laughable! She's the governor of the most sparsely populated state in the Union and was the mayor of a town of less then 10,000 people. Sarah 'Caribou Barbie' Palin is a redneck, small town, neophyte thrown into deep waters filled with hungry sharks. Her ultra-conservative, ultra-Christian Fundamentalist views are laughable, and she's - as evidenced by her Katie Couric interview - downright stupid. Let's look at it this way - - Martin Luther King Jr. was a community organizer. Please understand that I write this with all sarcasm implied... being the mayor of a small town of Inuits, Redncks, and Pipeline workers is TOTALLY more important than being a community organizer.

Finally - on a personal note. I am an Atheist. I am a Liberal Democrat. I am a supporter of Barack Obama. I think John McCain is an older, lying version of George W. Bush. I think the last thing this country needs is four more years of failed economic policy, imperialistic and draconian foreign policy, and eroded civil liberties. The Republicans who've been in charge have made America a shadow of her former self. We have been made less in the eyes of the world because of myopic, Christian, conservative policies and actions. I do not welcome your lies or the viturperative dirty politics that your candidate and his conservative proxies have waged.

So - - just so we're clear. I don't like chain mails. I never have. I have been - in my current job - using email since the early 90's. I have seen every chain mail out there at some point. I don't like them. I like them even less when they have the air of self-righteousness, smugness, and lies about a political candidate I feel very strongly for. As I said, your assumption that I would be interested in your view was unfounded and univited. The internet is an interesting medium in that it gives voice to the millions of people who lack the reasoning and self control to conduct themselves in a fashion that is not embarassing to themselves and their families.

Please do not send me anymore of your conservative, Christian, Republican lies. If this means removing me from your address book... I'm all right with that. And do you know why? I am fine with that because your email is an indictment of my beliefs and implies that - if I don't agree with you - that I am somehow an evil Liberal and beneath contempt to you. So - fuck you. You are not worth my time. Enjoy wallowing in the misery of losing the upcoming election and having to suffer under the horrible, Socialist, anti-American agenda of the first black president - and do so with the realization that I was right about everything I wrote above.

Remember - you opened the door to this conversation, not I. I forced nothing upon you. Too bad you didn't show me the same consideration.

By the way... I'd like to refer you to Fight The Smears. It's a website that debunks all of the shit you've tried to feed me. Not that you'll believe it. Changing one's world view is a sign of emotional maturity and intelligence you obviously lack.

xoxo
Doctor Zombie

Carnage and Viral Internet Zombies

Some quick links I wanted to throw up...



The first is the trailer for the new Punisher movie, Punisher: War Zone. Holy Mary, mother of God!!!! Does this look awesome?!? If you go to the link, you'll need to enter your birthday because the video is the Red Card trailer. (Red Card Trailers are rated R/Restricted trailers). This movie looks unbelievably violent. The Red Card trailer gave me a serious action movie and gore chubby. Seriously, The Little Zombie is all a-twitter!!!! Once you watch the carnage of the Red Card, wait and don't click anything. They have the theatrical trailer afterwards. Ab-so-lute-ly fan-fucking-tastic!

Some thoughts on the new Punisher... I loved the first one. In my opinion it was one of the better Marvel adaptations; in line with Spiderman and the X-Men. And I really, really liked Thomas Jane as Frank Castle. (I have a special love for the first movie because it took place in Tampa in the Ybor City district. When I lived in Treasure Island, Florida, I was a regular at this awesome little Cuban party place). Anyway, Ray Stevenson as the new Punisher... I'm not sure how it'll work. I like Ray Stevenson. His character from Rome,Titus Pullo, was my favorite character. But he's some pretty big shoes to fill. The trailers above go a long way towards making me all right with him in the role. Time will tell.



Bloody Disgusting has another Red Card Trailer for the new zombie movie, Tobe Hooper's Dance of the Dead. . Releeased by Lion's Gate direct to DVD on October 14th, this looks awesome. Sort of a Shaun of the Dead meets Napolean Dynamite meets Diary of the Dead. The movie's getting great reviews and looks awesome. It's on my must see list!

Truthfully, Dance of the Dead kind of pisses me off. You see, Doctor Zombie's been asked by a Midwestern film production company to write a horror script for possible optioning. The problem is that it has some strict requirements. It has be a cast of high school students. It has to have beautiful people. It has to be about beautiful people. And it has to be PG-13. If you've read my blog for any amount of time, you know how I feel about PG-13 horror, and you know how I feel about the popular, pretty kids.

Groan.

Anyway, I'd thought about doing a zombie story (I know, I know... I'm ALWAYS thinking about the zombies...). But then I saw this and realized it was exactly what I was thinking. Crap. Back to the drawing board I guess... story of my fucking life.



And, since we're talking about ideas I had but was too lazy/unmotivated/slackerish to follow through on... I give you Mick's Jarvis Island Blog. Another grat concept, it's a blog for this engineer who gets a new job on a small research island in the South Pacific. What starts out as a blog to keep in touch with his friends turns into a first hand account of horror. The problem is he can only updated once a quarter - so the updates are few and far between. That said, the author's doing some great things; like if you email him, he sends back a reply asking for help. Brilliant work, really. Check it out!

And - if you're jonesing for some viral internet goodness - check out Lost Zombies. This is another great concept. It's a site where the premise is that the Zompacalypse has happened and you can submit videos and multimedia of your attempts to survive. it's got a "Can't Fight the Feed" vibe, although it seems to be mostly a dumping ground for poorly made videos by high school kids. It's still a great idea.

Finally - we have I Am Not Infected. This is a web series put together by a couple of improv guys and it's really, really funny. It tells the story of their attempts to survive the zombie apocalypse in LA... despite their own stupidity. Highly recommended!

That's all for now, dear readers. I'm off to start working on my Halloween preperations. There's apples that need razors inserted, and Pixie Sticks that need mixed with rat poisoning... so much to do, so little time!

Unpleasant dreams!

I'm Not Just a Writer...

I've also done some acting in my day. I mention this because my friends Spike and
Curtis are getting a reunion of some of our theater friends together next month. It should be fun.

Of course, with it being Halloween, I feel it necessary to mention I've been in a few movies here and there. That's right... Doctor Zombie is an actual actor.

In fact, there's a couple clips of the good old Doctor floating around on the internet. I've taken the time to track some down and post them up for you. Check 'em out!

Now, I'll be the first to admit I've never had an Oscar worthy performance... but I bring a certain intensity and passion to the parts I play.

Tell me what you think...

The first clip is one of my favorite roles and I did it when I was a child. I played an orphaned infant who needs to make his way in a cruel, hungry world. Roger Ebert said of my perfomance... "I've never seen such pathos, such raw emotion. It made me really hungry for spaghetti!

The next clip is from a movie I made because, truthfully, I needed the money. the sad thing is it was another childhood role and it was semi-autobiographical. I can't remember much of the production or, even, what I did with my SAG check for this one. Considering where I was in my life when I filmed this... I probably blew it all on cocaine and hookers. I recently had my 666 birthmark lasered off, by the way.

This role holds a special place in my heart. This is Mrs. Zombie's favorite movie and I met her because of it. She was so moved by my performance in this movie, she stalked me until I agreed to date her. There was this funny time on the red carpet when she gave security the slip and attacked me as I posed for a picture with my mentor, Brad Dourif. Tom Cruise was there too, and he actually shit his pants because he thought it was the return of Xenu. Tom Cruise is a tool.

Finally, we have the movie that got me three Golden Globe nominations, two People's Choice Awards, and an honorable mention at the MTV Movie Awards. I've still not forgiven Sydney Pollack or Robert Redford from stealing MY awards! Out of Africa indeed! This was a hard role for me because I decided to go the method acting route. I got together with Robert DiNero and Bruce Campbell (we were all preparing for roles at that time) and we immersed ourselves in the work. It was one of the most rewarding times in my acting career... but I haven't been able tolook at a cheeseburger, candy bar, doughnut, or Geena Davis the same since....


So -- thanks for joining me on this trip down memory lane. Ahhh... good times, good times.

And remember, I'm always available to do weddings, showers, and bar mitzvahs if you're looking for some entertainment!

After Action Report... V-Day has come and gone!

So the vasectomy wasn't as bad as I thought, but it wasn't a piece of cake, either.

They wheeled me in to the surgery, gave me a little happy juice, and as the room started to waver and breathe around me in psychodelic grooviness; I had to deal with the discomfort of an attractive female nurse - who wasn't Mrs. Zombie - touching, moving, manipulating, and all around fondling my junk as she shaved me.

I find, at times like this, that the best course of action is to focus on the ceiling and say the Bene Gesserit Litany against Fear over and over again - in my head - in the hopes that there is no embarrassing tumescence. I'm sad to report that I failed.

Seriously, I'm powerless to control it. I am like a 14 year old kid who's just cracked the erection technology... my little zombie does what it wants and can't be negotiated with, can't be reasoned with. It just keeps doing what it does and won't stop. That's right, he's just like a Cyberdyne Systems T-808 cyborg!

So, just as I started to ... rise to the occasion... I got another shot of the anaesthetist's magical elixir and found myself drifting off to a dream land. And it was a wonderous land where every day is Halloween and I get to dance all night with Velma and Daphne from Scooby Doo, Gillian Anderson, and Adrienne Barbeau circa John Carpenter's Escape from New York. While we dance and kiss and eat Pixie Sticks and candy corn - the soundtrack is the awesome theme to The Munster's.

I awoke from this Freudian goldmine to find ANOTHER good looking nurse fondling my junk in the recovery room; looking for bleeding, swelling, and other signs of imminent catastrophe.

Only this time... Mrs. Zombie was there. Watching.

I looked at her, she looked at me, and she rolled her eyes in disgust.

"What is wrong with you?!?" she asked, as the nurse lifted my member and checked my stitches, "You've just had surgery, you're still groggy from anaesthesia, and you still have the energy to look at me like that? And no... we won't be having a threesome. Pig."

"Crap." I said as I drifted back to sleep.

So... a week later. I'm still sore, I have some swelling still, I'm bruised, and I'm itchy as hell because my freshly shorn dingus and melon-sack have a five o'clock shadow.

The things we do for love. And - more importantly - sex.

And, for the record... it's not an easy recovery.

So, I spent the rest of the week wearing tight underwear, sitting on the couch, and trying not to let my nards bang together like bocce balls. I was only partly successful.

And I think a threesome's the least I can get considering the massive sacrifice my manhood's taken.

Don't you agree?

Now THIS is true Horror!

Found this over at Les' blog - Stupid Evil Bastard

This should be terrifying to all that behold it. If it doesn't scare the hell out of you.... you're probably a whacko Republican who still holds on - like a dog with a frisbee - to the idea that Obama is a Muslim. You're probably also a racist, mysoginistic, born again retard.

Sorry to call you out like that, but as Captain Spaulding said, "I calls 'em like I sees 'em! Whore."

So Much for my Evil, Undead Seed…

So I will be out for the next few days. I struggled with sharing this, because it’s way personal and is well into the land of TMI… but I weighed that against the honesty I normally show when it comes to blogging about me and the carnival of unending shame that is my life. Honesty ruled out… so you get to read an entire post about my ugly, mishappen, nutsack.

That’s right, I said nutsack.

And I say nutsack because – tomorrow – I’m going to the doctor to get myself fixed. That’s right, dear reader, Doctor Zombie’s going to get hisself neutered, fixed, gelded, and de-seeded.

I’m going in for a vasectomy.

I have to say the decision was not an easy one to make. I mean, what man in his right mine willingly signs up for elective surgery on their junk?!? I mean they’re going to shave the wrinkled, underside of my evil and then proceed to cut into it and mangle my precious and irreplaceable vas deferens. Sharp things… by my balls and in the same neighborhood as The Little Zombie. Sharp things!

Excuse me while I shake the shivers of horror out of my spine.

But after careful consideration, and some considerable threatening on the part of Mrs. Zombie, I’ve decided to take a huge one for the team. As it’s less invasive as the counterpart procedure would be for Mrs. Zombie, and as I was threatened with a retaliatory end to my sex life for at least the foreseeable future… I was convinced that my undergoing the surgery was the best thing. In other words, I caved in and Mrs. Zombie won.

I’m man enough to admit it.

And I’m also man enough to admit that I’m having it done under complete, knock-my-ass-out-because-I’ll-be-damned-if-I’m-going-to-be-awake-for-the-mangling-of-my-manhood anaesthesia. The doctor gave me the choice of having it done with a local, or of having the full blown unconscious treatment and I decided on the latter. Mrs. Zombie thinks I’m being a wimp about it, but I decided on the alternative I did because… truthfully… I want to luxuriate in the sweet arms of Morpheus, the god of sleep, throughout the entire, traumatic experience. All week I’ve been hearing about how I’d never be able to deal with childbirth, and it’s just a simple in and out surgery, blah blah blah!

Bullshit, says I!

I have an extremely high threshold of pain. Extraordinarily high (remind me to tell you to tell you sometime about my nipple piercing – and the subsequent tearing out of said nipple ring). And I knew I would most likely have no problem enduring the procedure under a local. But you know what? I DON’T WANT TO.

I was given the choice, and I’m taking the easy way. As I told Mrs. Zombie, I may be taking one for the team, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to make it easy on you! I’m going to milk this for all it’s worth!”

Besides, I was stupid and did a Google search on vasectomies about a week ago. Big mistake! Now I’m all worried that my kiwis are going to swell up like two misshapen circus dwarfs and I’m going to have to suffer the indignity of pushing them around in front of me – in a wheel barrow - for the next two weeks because I can’t afford to take anymore time off with either of my jobs.

Never mind the fact that they’re going to shave my sack tomorrow. Can the shame get any worse? Now I’m not adverse to a little manscaping now and again. Or, in my case, it’s more like deforestation. I’m a hairy bastard and the euphemistic term ‘manscaping’ doesn’t capture the process. It’s more like someone needs to fly an Army chopper over the area of operation and airdrop Agent Orange like they did in Vietnam. I resemble a sasquatch, or a Wookkie, below the belt line. Seriously, if I were to try and wear a Speedo… it’d look like I was trying to unsuccessfully hide a tarantula, what with all the hair.

And now – when all’s said and done – and I’m no longer a fertile man, I need to live for several weeks with a shaved and wrinkled marble bag. A grown man should not have to look like a 12 year old boy again. Ever.

Crap. What did I get myself talked into here?!?

I think my buddy Jeff put it best, “Wow. It sucks that you’ve got to do that. They should do the same thing that they do with dogs when they go the vet. Instead of saying they’re going to the vet to get you fixed, your wife should say, ‘Hey, let’s get ice cream!’

“You’ll be all excited for ice cream, right until you pull up to the urologist office. At that point, the horror will set in. ‘Hey!’ you’ll say, suspiciously, ‘this isn’t the ice cream store… this is the doctor’s office where they… No! NOOO!!!’ Then, when your wife pulls you in to the doctor’s office by your collar, your paws pushing ineffectually at the linoleum floor in an attempt to escape, you’ll at least have only a few minutes to ponder your fate before they gas you and begin the un-sperming of your manhood.”

The sad thing is that I’m pretty sure Mrs. Zombie would probably get some sick, twisted pleasure in my waking up all groggy with one of those cone things on my head.

Trick 'r Treat

As we near Halloween, I wanted to let you in on a movie out there that has become something of an obsession for me. It's a horror movie that's been in the can for a few years, but has yet to see the light of day.

It's called Trick 'r Treat and is directed and written by Michael Dougherty; produced by Bryan Singer; and stars Brian Cox and Anna Paquin.

I first saw the trailer for this film on the DVD version of Frank Miller's 300 and I was blown away by it. I recently rewatched the 300 and was totally reminded about Trick 'r Treat and set about getting information on it because I've heard NOTHING about what looked like, to me, one of the coolest horror movies in a long while.

The trailer I saw was moody, dark, and visually breathtaking. It encapsulated all of the true creepy goodness of Halloween and looked like it had the hallmarks of being a classic. I know those are strong words, especially based on only seeing a 2 and half minute trailer, but I stand by the fact that this film looks fucking awesome.

It has visuals that would make Tim Burton or Guillermo Del Toro proud... it has the look and feel of an 80's era horror movie (which some might argue was the heyday of scare and slasher horror)... and it just feels like a great horror film.

The trailer can be seen here, or if it's no longer available there... can be seen on Youtube here. Finally, here's a slightly retooled one from Warner Bros., who has become the final owner of the film.

Tell me what YOU think!

So, if it's such an incredible movie, where the hell is it?

Well - after wallowing for years in the can, and after having been sold and resold to like five different studios... it looks like it's finally getting its due. It will be headlining ScreamFest on 10/10 in LA and - we can only hope - that it comes to theaters or DVD soon thereafter. In fact, there's talk that it will be receiving a direct to video realease... let's just hope it's soon. Please!!!

Everything I've read about this film, and everything that's been written by people who've seen advanced copies, indicates that this film is horror gold.

Does it have the genre twisting qualities that some reviewers have given it? I don't think so, and I wouldn't dare to presume it does (I've been disappointed too many times). But it most certainly has the potential.

So - in addition to Quarantine and Saw V, this is on the must see list for the holiday season (if it actually DOES come out in the next few months. I guess ScreamFest will be the make or break for it and for Warner Bros. If it does well there, we can expect to see it on DVD.

Doctor Zombie, for one, will be there to buy one of the first copies. In fact, when it does come out... and if you're in the Cleveland area... feel free to shoot me an email and I'll arrange a viewing party for all of you, my faithful ghouls, in the Midnight Theater of Terror.

You bring the beer and popcorn, and I'll bring the sharp, pointy knives (for the pumpkin carving, of course!)

Freedom of the Mind

From bannedbookweek.com

Banned Books Week: Celebrating the Freedom to Read!

Banned Books Week is the only national celebration of the freedom to read. It was launched in 1982 in response to a sudden surge in the number of challenges to books in schools, bookstores and libraries. More than a thousand books have been challenged since 1982. The challenges have occurred in every state and in hundreds of communities. People challenge books that they say are too sexual or too violent. They object to profanity and slang, and protest against offensive portrayals of racial or religious groups--or positive portrayals of homosexuals. Their targets range from books that explore the latest problems to classic and beloved works of American literature.

According to the American Library Association, more than 400 books were challenged in 2007. The 10 most challenged titles were:

1. And Tango Makes Three by Justin Richardson and Peter Parnell
2. The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier
3. Olive’s Ocean by Kevin Henkes
4. The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman
5. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
6. The Color Purple by Alice Walker
7. TTYL by Lauren Myracle
8. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
9. It’s Perfectly Normal by Robie Harris
10. The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky
(Click here to see why these books were challenged.)

During the last week of September every year, hundreds of libraries and bookstores around the country draw attention to the problem of censorship by mounting displays of challenged books and hosting a variety of events. The 2008 celebration of Banned Books Week will be held from September 27 through October 4.

Banned Books Week is sponsored by the American Library Association, the American Booksellers Foundation for Free Expression, the Association of American Publishers, the American Society of Journalists and Authors, and the National Association of College Stores. Banned Books Week is also endorsed by the Center for the Book of the Library of Congress.

Thank you for celebrating Banned Books Week!

The freedom to read what you want is, to Doctor Zombie, as precious and essential as any of the other freedoms afforded by the Bill of Rights. And I am absolutley horrified that - even today - there are still close-minded, evil, bastards out there who somehow feel it is their right to judge literature and tell others what they can and can't read.

It's similar to a situation a friend related to me recently. 5th grade - at least here in Ohio - is when they have 'the talk' with kids. The sex talk. They have a health class where they talk about how teen pregnancies occur and how best to avoid the whole situation. I should note that abstinence is taught, but not to the exclusion of other forms of birth control and STD prevention. The thing is - because it's not abstinence only education - there's still a percentage of parents who refuse to allow their children to attend the class.

In my mind - this borders on parental negligence. It's like those numbfucks who refuse to have their children immunized and then blithely send their infectious progeny off to school with no regard for herd immunity.

And it's these same morons who feel that Huckleberry Finn is just as dangerous as it apparently was in the 1950's.

I blame the legacy of King George Bush II administration. If that big-eared, c-student, fundie grotesquerie hadn't encouraged the other Fundies... maybe we wouldn't STILL HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT ASSHOLES TRYING TO BURN BOOKS.

Dude... it's the 21st century. Is our country ever going to be mature enough to look at literature as the gift it is; and not the devil's work?!?

So, in celebration of Banned Book Week, please take a moment to go to the website and read (or re-read) at least one of the books on the list.

Intellect freedom should never be surrendered to the evil of small-mindedness and moral ignorance.

Reading is freedom. Read.

Movie review - Gangs of the Dead (2006) {aka, Last Rites}

When there’s no more room in hell… exploitive, direct to DVD, racist and stereotypical crap will walk the earth.

That’s what I thought after sitting through the urban-horror outing of Gangs of the Dead. (Or Last Rites. At some point the title of the movie was changed from Last Rites to Gangs of the Dead. I suspect this was done because Last Rites is a retarded name for a zombie flick.)

Gangs of the Dead tells the story of a group of rival gangs (one black and one Hispanic) who get stuck in an isolated warehouse during a zombie event; this movie is a sad mixture of stereotypes and trite genre conventions. Boasting a cast of unknowns, this film could best be described as a poor remake of Night of the Living Dead. Except that, you know, it kind of sucked.

Now, I do want to say that – in the right hands – urban horror is a great offshoot of the genre. However, much of the recent attempts at it have failed miserably. Low budget, low brow affairs – like this and the craptastic Vampiyaz, Zombiez, and Bloodz Vs. Wolvez – serve only to make quick money as direct to video fare and, when the only people who are profiting are the DVD distributors, you know the filmmaking is always a secondary consideration. It’s like the Blaxploitation films of the 60’s and 70’s… only Blackula, Dolamite, and Shaft were memorable and had redeeming social value By that I mean, these earlier films showed strong African American characters who didn’t take shit from the white establishment and fought against the entrenched and institutionalized racism of the time. Does Gangs if the Dead aspire to such lofty heights? Thirty years from now, will Quentin Tarantino wax orgiastic about Gangs of the Dead?

I don’t think so. Not so much.


Oh how I long for the simpler beauty and grace of Wes Craven’s urban horror masterpiece, The People Under the Stairs.

(I should also add that it makes me cringe to have to write those stupid, contrived, BEV'ified movie names. "Yo! Doctor Zombiez movie reviewz in the houze!" All I'm saying is that every time someone ends a word with a 'z, when it should be an 's', said someone deserves to burn to death in a fire.)

So the zombie epidemic in this film is triggered by a meteorite. To which, I’d like to add, Jesus Titty-Fucking Christ! I am getting so tired of this explanation/origin for zombies! Enough already! We get it! You watched NOTLD and feel it necessary to establish that you’re somehow a fan of George A Romero’s masterpiece. Aarrrgghh! I can feel a goddamned aneurysm coming on!

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it until I’m blue in the face. (Errmmm… I mean bluer than my already vivid undead blue tint; but that’s beside the point.) The fact is… I don’t need to have it explained to me how the dead are rising from the grave to eat the living. All I need to see is the gore and lip-smacking, brain-chomping, blood-squirting goodness.

Anyway, there’s a meteor. It crashes in Los Angeles and turns a group of homeless, fundamental Christians into zombies. They trap the main characters in a warehouse where the survivors pair off into their respective stereotypes. We have the black gang, who are surprisingly free of stereotypes and are the heroes of the film. We have the Hispanic gang run by a brutish Chollo of epic, stereotypical proportions. We have two cops that were about to bust the gangs before the shit went all zombie-like, but are now there simply to be poorly acted stereotypes of racist cops. There’s a couple of chicks attached to the gangs, and a cowardly, ultra-white, fat, “I-can’t-believe-I’m-here-with-all-of-these-varying-shades-of- brown-people!” weather guy who took a wrong turn on his way into the hood and/or barrio to score some coke.

All of the characters, with the exception of the black gang, are violent, stupid, selfish, and stereotypical; which goes to show that – even amongst the black writers and directors of this piece of disposable horror – racism is alive and well. Unbelievable.

But enough about the social aspects of this movie… let’s talk about how it went as a zombie flick. Again, I’ve got to say I wasn’t that impressed. The makeup was passable, especially on the featured zombies. The extras makeup looked like something that a high school drama club production might produce. Gore is good, but much of it was CGI’d, and CGi’d poorly. Which is sad - the best part of this movie could be found in the quality of the digital work. Especially with the meteorite effects. The CGI guy on this film did a good job(I should add that, truthfully, I’ve no idea who the CGI guy was, and I don’t really have the energy to IMDB it. There’s an inverse relationship between my willingness to do research on a movie and how badly it sucked. In this case, I’ll be doing little to no research. Don’t blame me; blame the production company, writer, and director who delivered this steaming pile of crap to my Netflix queue.)

Anyway, the effects for the meteor were actually really well done, but that is then marred by how bad the explosions, head shots, and other visual effects are. The lame story and lame effects were somewhat redeemed by the acting. This really surprised me, considering how most low-budget horror films really, really suffer in this area. In this case, the actors did an admirable job with the offal they had and the actors actually made it almost bearable to watch. Almost. But even a dream cast of Sir Laurence Olivier, Kenneth Branagh, Gary Oldman, Meryl Streep, and John Malkovich could only do so much with a bad script, short-sighted direction, and a moronic stringing together of thoughts and ideas. What I’m saying is, in the vernacular of the peasantry, you can’t polish a turd.

Also…

That is, I…

Ummm...

You know what? I’m done. I’ve got nothing else to say about this film, other than it sucked. It was a zombie film, which doesn’t make it a negative. When compared to Day of the Dead 2, or some of the other lame attempts at the zombie genre out there, it was slightly above the pack -- but not by much. All in all, it was forgettable.

Would I watch it again? No. Do I feel that I wasted an hour and a half of my life? Not really. Was it an Uwe Boll caliber crap-fest? Hells, no.

So… I guess it’s all right if you’ve got nothing else to watch and are dying for some zombie action. Just don’t expect it to be Evil Dead.

Doctor Zombie’s Rating: 2 out of 5 Chomped Brains.

Movie Review - The X-Files: I Want to Believe (2008)

I just returned from a showing of the newest X-Files movie. It says quite a bit about how my life has changed in that I waited this long to see it. It finally hit the local dollar cinema just this week and I made sure I saw it before it passed. The thing is - the economy is tight and neither Mrs. Zombie, nor myself can justify the cost of first run movies at the regular cinema. A movie needs to be something spectacular to make the cost worth it… and I find it saddens me that this movie falls into the category of wait-able.

By the way, this won’t be a usual movie review for me. I won’t be rating this film, and I’m not even sure what I’m going to write about it. I just wanted to articulate some of the feelings I have about it and at least get some thoughts down. It may very well be incoherent and not strictly adhere to accepted grammatical rules… but I wanted to write something while it was still fresh.

I guess I need to preface all of this with a confession of sorts. I saw this movie at the absolute worst time of the year. You see, it’s fall; and fall always, always, always fills me with an almost unbearable sense of nostalgia and melancholy. I think it’s the fact that it’s my favorite season, and it is so intimately tied to some of the best times of my life. Fall was the time I returned to school, and it’s the time of football games, and friends, and Halloween. I almost always struck with a weighty and stifling sense of longing for the past, but that longing is juxtaposed with a feeling that my life is in an uncontrollable, headlong dash forward. Every fall reminds me that I’m one year older and one year farther away from those times I so achingly remember.

And this movie has made that feeling overwhelming.

The X-Files was one of those things that so dominated my past life. And when I say past life, I refer to my life before marriage, and before kids. I wouldn’t change my life for anything, and I am so grateful and happy that I have such a good life, a great job, and such a beautiful family. But that doesn’t in any way mitigate the time-softened feeling of freedom I had after college and before I got married. And the X-Files was an essential part of that. The X-Files came out when I was in college and was there for me, EVERY FRIDAY NIGHT, until a year or two after I got married. Even through the dark years of no Mulder, through the inexplicable shark-jumping introduction of Doggett and Reyes, and even through the death of the Lone Gunmen… The X-Files was there. All parties, all weekend shenanigans, and all social events could not commence until after 10pm on Friday night. Like a house frau with her favorite soap opera, I was wrapped up in the twitching anticipation of when Mulder and Scully were going to realize that they were meant to be together.

And it is through this nostalgic rear view mirror that I find myself judging this movie. And I may be judging it too harshly because of it. I don’t know. I’m having trouble sorting out my personal feelings from any objective view of the film.

So – my impressions of the movie is that it left me wanting. It had been billed as a departure from the prior X-Files movie (Fight The Future). Whereas the prior film was very rooted in the conspiracy mythos of the series, this one was touted as a stand alone; or one of the ‘Monster of the week” episodes. Truthfully… those were my favorites. The weird investigative shit was so much cooler than the black oil, faceless alien bounty hunters, Smoking Man, and Alien/Human hybrid storylines. Not to say I didn’t love the conspiracy episodes; but it was the standalone episodes that showed the true brilliance of Chris Carter. They always had the right mix of horror, paranoia, and creepy chills to please even the most hardened horror and sci-fi fan. The episodes like Ice, and Flukeman, and the fucked up one with the inbred mutant living under the bed are the undeniable pleasures of the series.

The problem with the argument that it was a standalone, monster of the week-type story was that to say so is a complete lie. I Want to Believe is less a monster movie or a monster of the week and more of a return visit to some old friends. There was no monster, only a psychic for Mulder to obsess over and some Russian doctors doing experiments that are Frankenstienian, but not outside of the realm of believability. What I’m saying is it was less science fiction than even the tamest of series episodes. The gore was mild; a severed arm here, a couple poorly sculpted severed heads there. It was like checking in on some old friends you hadn’t seen in years… only to find that they’ve moved on and you haven’t.

Character-wise, it was a pastiche of all the established X-Files clichés; but exaggerated and somehow made bittersweet. Scully and Mulder are still together, and very much in love (which pleases me), but their dynamic is changed. Mulder is the same Mulder and still looking for conspiracies and the paranormal almost slavishly. Scully’s character though, has changed and become what she once was – the disbeliever. She’s a doctor at a Catholic hospital now and she’s returned to the way she was before the series started. She’s skeptical, cold, and disbelieving. And she is struggling with her faith so much that it was the central theme of the movie. Which is hard to understand because, when the series ended, I liked how she had - given all she had seen and done - struck a balance between her faith and the paranormal world that she had come to accept. Now she’s gone completely the other way. And they are both still hurting and living with the pain of losing their son William.

That’s not to say it was a bad movie. I liked that it was like a reunion with old friends, and that they were still – at their core – the same people I’d come to love like my own family. And the movie did a wonderful job of being about their relationship, and their lives after the end of the series. But it wasn’t what made the X-Files great. There was so little X-Files in it, I might as well have been watching Without a Trace: The Movie.

So – what am I saying? I don’t really know. I liked it as one would a good movie. And there were times I was struck with the feeling one might have when they reconnect with an old flame. To see Duchovny and my beloved Gillian Anderson on screen together again was gratifying… but afterwards there’s a sense of regret.

To extend the metaphor - as you lie there besides your old lover, as the sweat cools on your body, and as the sad and poignant feelings of ennui and nostalgia descend - you know it can never be as good as it once was.

I still want to believe.

The Best of Doctor Zombie

So, I've been thinking of putting together some of my funnier posts, polishing them, and maybe trying to publish them as a collection of humorous glimpses into the shame and embarassment that is my life. I'll need to look at what I have, and maybe scrap the whole idea, but I thought I'd give it a try.

So this post is just a series of links to some of the things I've written over the last few years (and not as often as I should) that I think are funny.

And, as an aside, I'll probably put a link of this over under 'My Writings' as sort of a "Who's Doctor Zombie and What Does He Write about?" introduction for new visitors.

Which reminds me, I should probably put up a Doctor Zombie FAQ. Maybe this post will turn into that as well. I'm not sure at this point...

So, if you're a long time reader, feel free to ignore this post. Or go back and look at some of the things I've already written... maybe I can make you laugh again.

Anyway... on with the links...

Fundie Baiting (Nov 2005)
Murderous Thoughts (Dec 2005)
A Groovy Commercial (Dec 2005)

A True Story (Feb 2006)
Fatherhood (Feb 2006)
What Is This Evil? (Mar 2006)
Too Much Information (Mar 2006)
Poor Judgement (Mar 2006)
Dogs of the Living Dead (Mar 06)
Wacky Celebrities (May 06)
Ask and you Shall Receive... (May 06)
The Same Deep Water As You (May 06) *NOTE: Not funny, just well written.
God I Hate Summer (May 06)
Barbarians on the Border (June 06)
Debauchery (July 06)
One of Those Days (Aug 06)
Watch Out for Evil Undead Raccoons (Aug 06)
...With Some Fave Beans and a Nice Chianti (Sept 06)
Riding the Bus (Oct 06)
Groan... (Oct 06)
Furry Raccoon Bastards - Part II (Dec 06)

Where's Winter? (Jan 07)
Drinking Tips (July 07)
Vox Deus (July 07)
The Curse of the Widow's Peak (Nov 07)
Meatpie Anyone? (Nov 07)
Did You Get the Flowers I Sent? (Dec 07)

The Unending Carnival of Shame (Jan 08) NOTE: I get more compliments on this piece then any other one on the site. All the friggin' time, I have people who regularly read my blog mention how much they loved this one particular post above all others. Not sure what that says... or whether or not they know that it is only partially true...
The Name... is Dalton! (Mar 08)
It's All Wolf Girl's Fault (May 08)
Adventures in Northeast Ohio (Jun 08)

Feed the Trolls!

I’m a firm believer that one should never feed trolls, but the other day I received this lovely comment out of the blue. It was based on my review of 28 Weeks Later.

I cannot beleive you gave this beautiful movie 2/5 and you give Day of the Dead 2008 the same mark
Your a crackhead.
Anonymous

Interestingly, this is the first time I’ve received this sort of feedback and, truthfully, the troll amused me. In the interest of full disclosure, here’s my response:

Dear anonymous,
Ahhhh! The anonimity of the internet... it gives voice to all the myriad morons who somehow think their voice is important! Next time, be less of a coward and sign your name. And, while you're at it, maybe you can use the crackling, weakly firing neurons in that vast empty space between your ears to formulate an actual literate sentence... one that explains why you think 28 Weeks Later was a better movie. Until then - fuck off, coward.

Oh! And let me help you here... it's spelled 'believe' not 'beleive', and 'you're' is the proper contraction for 'you are' -- not 'your'. Normally I'm not a grammar Nazi, but your extreme idiocy has grated upon my grammatical nerves.
Please do us all a favor; go back to your kiddie porn sites, spank one out to some poor exploited Malaysian kid, and let the adults continue their conversation.
xoxo,
Dr. Z

The thing is, this has kind of been on my mind for the last few days. No, not the grunting and atavistic monkey-sounds the Anon left. His abhorrent stupidity is inconsequential; what’s been on my mind is that I’ve never really explained what I base my movie ratings on.

The thing is – it’s a wholly subjective criteria. My comment to Anony-dork was true to the extent that the Internet has given voice to the multitudes, no matter how painfully dumb they may be. And that applies to me as well. My opinions are my opinions, and my voice should carry no more weight than that of any of the other bazillion web denizens who are screaming raucously into the ether void.
And I can’t tell you that I have a checklist I run through whenever I watch a movie for review. I don’t have a magical or logical scale that assigns a statistically sound rating to any movie I review.

Seriously. I don’t. I’m not smart enough to do anything like that. I’m just a dork with most of an English degree that just happens to have an unnatural love for horror movies.

What I can tell you is that I rate every movie based on my own criteria. For instance, in the case of 28 Weeks Later, I judged that movie based solely upon my expectations. Now – Mrs. Zombie will be the first to tell you that I am notoriously hard on sequels – but I feel very strongly that a sequel should build on the original. Otherwise – don’t fucking bother (that’s right AVP and AVP: Requiem – I’m looking at you!).

With 28 Weeks Later – it received the rating it did because it was very much a disjointed, predictable, action flick. It lacked the brilliance and horror of the original. It foreswore a great idea for an action movie with thinly veiled anti-American sentiment. It received the rating because it was a sub par movie.

It’s not to say it didn’t have its high points… it was visually stunning and the intro was fucking awesome. But the highs were far outnumbered by the lows.
Day of the Dead 2008, on the other hand, received the rating it did because it sucked through and through. I was not expecting much from it, and it didn’t disappoint. It was a big bag of crap. 28 Weeks was just a disappointment.

The reviews are independent of one another.

So – what am I saying? Well the key is to realize that I write my reviews with the hope that I can make a difference to someone who is on the fence. I understand that there will be those that disagree (like Anonymous – bless his poor, retarded heart) and I welcome their disagreement. I also fancy myself something of an expert on the genre of zombie flicks – so I think I have a grasp on it. Or at least I hope.

And Anonymous? I know Anonymous – and you are no Anonymous.

Movie Review – The Lost Boys: The Tribe (2008)

Huh?!? I waited 20 years for this?!?

That was my initial thought after sitting through this latest attempt to rape my childhood. I promised myself that I wouldn’t watch this when it came out. I swore I wouldn’t be sucked into a sequel to a movie that was an essential and inescapable part of my high school life. Dear dark gods! How I wanted to be Michael from the Lost Boys. I grew a mullet like him, I pierced my ear like him, I even bought a leather jacket and took to wearing wayfarer sunglasses at night. The girl I dated all through high school would call me Michael, and I’d call her Starr. We’d answer the door and say, “…and you must be Max.” Jesus… I still have two or three songs from the soundtrack on my iPod right now. Seriously.

And I was going to hold firm, dammit. I was NOT going to see what was certain to be a horrible movie. And then I started watching the reality show, The Two Coreys. I got sucked into it and actually broke down when I saw that Fel-dog and the Haimster and the other Frog brother, Jason Newlander, were going to be in the sequel. So, when it came up, I put it on my Netflix queue.

Yeah, I knew that Haim’s a slow motion, slurring, chain-smoking, dope-addicted train wreck. And I knew that he was only going to be in a couple of scenes, but I actually convinced myself that Feldman is actually a reasonable guy and wouldn’t commit career suicide or risk whatever legacy he might have. In other words, I bought into the fake reality that is their reality show.

Boy was I disappointed.

The Lost Boys: The Tribe is, essentially, a modernized remake of the original Lost Boys. It started out with some promise. Some surfers sneak onto an ocean-side estate to surf at night. The estate, owned by a vampire played in a surprising cameo by Tom Savini, confronts the surfers with the intention of having a late night snack. Unfortunately, the surfers are the new Lost Boys and quickly turn the tables on Savini as they dog-pile him, kill him, and rip his head off.

Cool! I thought, Awesome gore and an even better cameo… this might actually be good.

From there, we roll into the credits and it’s similar to the beginning of the original Lost Boys with scenes of street people, alternative types, and tattoos aplenty. However, where in the original it was kind of cool and alternative and Santa Carla had the look of a cool place to live; this time it looks like the walking dead, white trash, and drug addicts that can be found in the seedier parts of any big city. I did have to laugh when they had a quick shot of a guy standing on a corner playing a saxophone… it looked to be the same guy who was performing on the beach when Michael meets Starr in the original, right down to the leather pants and long hair… only he’s no longer oiled and buff with muscles. Now he’s old, wrinkled, and sports a potbelly.

The story is simple, a brother and sister move to a new town to live with a batty aunt after the death of their parents in a car accident. The brother, Chris Emerson (played by Tad Hilgenbrek), is an ex-pro surfer who got kicked off the pro-circuit for fighting and his sister, Nicole (Autumn Reeser), end up moving into a rat-hole house. They go to a party on their first night; where they run into the Lost Boys, lead by another ex-surfer turned vampire – Shane. Shane is played by Keifer Sutherland’s little brother, Angus.

Shane takes a liking to Nicole. She drinks his blood, starts to become a vampire, and Chris needs to save her. He hooks up with Edgar Frog, who happens to be living in town, and they go fight and kill the Lost Boys, saving Nicole.
Like I said – this movie is an updated, remake of the original. Feldman basically walks around in his old costume, spouting entire lines of dialogue from the original. The fact that Sam and Chris’ last name is Emerson is never mentioned (I’m assuming they must be the kids of Michael and Starr… but it’s never made clear or mentioned, besides the fact that Nicole has long brown hair and is ‘the spitting image’ of her mother.). The story alludes to Edgar having lost his own brother, Allan, to vampires. The only appearance of Allan comes in the special features as an alternative ending where Allan, now a “Master Vampire” is coming to get Edgar. As the credits roll, we’re treated to a showdown between Edgar and a vampire Sam, but that’s all of about 30 seconds.

And here is where my main gripe with this movie is. The writers and director made this movie that is a watered down remake, but then – as an afterthought – added the bits with Haim, Feldman, and Newlander. And the bits they added (or decided to delete) hint at a great story. For me, the movie should have been about what’s happened to the characters of Sam, Edgar, and Allan in the 20 years since the death of Max and his original band of Lost Boys. Somewhere in there; Sam and Allan have become vampires, Starr and Michael have married and had kids, and Edgar has carried on slaying vampires despite the devastating loss of his brother to the enemy. That’s the fucking story I want! Not some rehash with a bunch of pretty people whose sole acting contributions consist of guest appearances on One Tree Hill and the OC!

And – although Haim has become a walking E! True Hollywood Story – his parts were good. Feldman was the shining star of the cast. What pains Doctor Zombie the most is the potential there. Aaarrrgghh!

And, as for the other characters - the head vampire Shane wandered around half shaved, with long hair, and a fey voice. I suspect he and Haim will share a stint in rehab at some point because he delivered all of his lines as if he were stoned or drunk. And – this may just be me – but the actors who played Chris and Nicole Emerson were both good… but they had a really strong chemistry between each other. Normally, this is a good thing for actors and actresses to have – but not when they’re playing brother and sister. Seriously…I kept expecting them to kiss each other. It was like Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt in Mr. and Mrs. Smith chemistry. There was a scene where Nicole’s standing in a towel, talking to him, and I was certain they were going to get totally incestuous. Creepy! I got the shudders thinking about it!

So – what’s the final verdict? Doctor Z.’s gotta say – pass on it. Pull out your copy of the original Lost Boys and revel in the sheer 80’s awesomeness and save yourself the frustration of watching a sequel that could have been great, but was more than happy being simply less than mediocre. Rating-wise, I’m giving it a 2 out of 5 only because Haim had some great, funny lines. There were also some great gory scenes and gratuitous nudity, which I’m always happy to see, but the script and acting sucked… literally. (Get it? The script sucked?!? That’s a vampire joke…get it? Oh, never mind…)

Doctor Zombie’s Rating: 2 out of 5 Chomped Brain

Movie Review – George A. Romero’s Diary of the Dead (2007)

George Romero’s triumphant return to the horror genre that he created is truthfully –only slightly triumphant. After all of the anticipation, and all of the whinging on my part that Ohio had only one theatrical showing of Diary of the Dead (in Columbus – 2 hours away!) I finally secured a copy on DVD and sat down to watch it with some popcorn, the lights out, and a giddy feeling in my stomach. After viewing it, I’ve got to say I was a bit underwhelmed.

The movie is told in the cineme verite style of The Blair Witch Project, or Cloverfield and is told from the point of view of several college film students. While out in the woods filming a low budget Mummy movie, they hear a radio report of strange attacks. The soon find themselves in the midst of the zombie apocalypse and the film is related as they see it through their own cameras.

In terms of the behind the camera point of view, Romero does a great job of making it much more polished and herky-jerky than the nausea-fests Blair Witch and Cloverfield represented, but it lacks the realism that the prior two films had and excelled at. At several points in the film – especially when they understand that they are truly being attacked by the living dead, they stand by as zombies approach, rolling the film.

From an acting standpoint, and as expected, most of the actors and actresses were pretty, young, and forgettable. A quick perusal of IMDB shows that none of them have any sort of extensive acting resumes - - and their inexperience shows through. The acting was stilted and most of their lines were delivered poorly. The only stand outs were the character of Debra Moynihan, as played by Michelle Morgan, and the alcoholic, bitter, nihilistic film professor (Scott Wentworth). Debra plays the ex-girlfriend of the protagonist and, although she plays the character as overly bitchy and angry, she far surpasses her peers in acting ability and I expect to see great things from her.

So – what did Romero do well? Well, despite my apparent disdain for the movie – it was still a Romero zombie film. And nobody – and I mean nobody – does zombies as well as George does. Visually, there were some great things here. The opening scene, where a news crew rolls up on a fatal domestic, is brilliant. The terror is palpable as the deceased combatants tear their way out of their body bags and attack the EMT’s and the news crew itself. Additionally, there were some great zombie killings. As they roll through Pittsburgh, the main characters run into a group of African-Americans who’ve fortified and dug in. There’s some great suspense as one of the survivors' now undead members stalks all in an abandoned industrial complex. And, when he is finally cornered, he’s killed with acid and I’ve got to say it was one of the best effects of the movie.

Romero also has a knack for creating memorable, almost iconic characters. In Night of the Living Dead, there was Ben – a black man in post Civil rights, rural Pennsylvania protecting himself and others; in Dawn, you had Peter. In Day of the Dead, you had the awesomeness that was Captain Rhodes; and in Land of the Dead, you had Charlie – the mentally disabled, burn-scarred Alvin York of Romero’s post-apocalyptic world. What makes these characters great is that they are a juxtaposed mingling of flaws and nobility. They are characters who have depths that are only hinted at. Romero follows through in this film with the Professor’s character, but the true icon from this movie is the deaf, Amish farmer and bad-ass – Joshua. I won’t ruin it for you, but I will say that scythes rock!

Also – the later scenes at a mansion they end up at are great; especially the pool scene. Again, it’s something you’ll need to see, but it’s great. There is an over-reliance on computer animation in this film, just like in Land of the Dead, but I was disappointed to see it. Yes, Doctor Z. gets that it’s cheaper to do CGI head shots; but they’re obviously fake and computer generated. There’s a difference between CGI and a good, well placed blood squib. Call me a purist or old school, but I like to see some real effects and splatter… not something plugged in as an afterthought in post-production.

As for Romero’s trademark social commentary – it’s here, but it’s not as resonant as it was in prior living dead films. Romero spends the movie commenting on the “media”-fication of our society and our reliance on new technology and the globalization it’s brought. It’s an indictment on a world filled with cell phones, and YouTube, and 24 hour media coverage. And I get the sense he’s also condemning Gen Y’s reliance on the same. He spends the movie criticizing his young, selfish filmmaker characters – but it rings untrue and, honestly, sort of hypocritical. The characters are doing the same thing he did back in 1968 in Evansville PA. And I guaran-damn-tee that, if the zombies rose up then, he’d have spent what little time he had filming the fall of humanity.

So – what’s Doctor Z’s overall appraisal of Diary of the Dead? It was still a zombie flick, and it was done by the father of the genre. Despite its flaws, it was still compelling and moved along at a good pace. The effects were good, the camera work was good, and the zombies were out-fucking-standing. All of this – however – was marred by the bad acting and the characters themselves. I truthfully didn’t care about them like I did past Romero characters. They were unlikable archetypes. But, despite that, it’s still good escapist fun.

My hope was that, when George was allowed to go back to his roots and do some guerilla filmmaking, he’d turn out something visceral and powerful. I have to say I was disappointed. In fact, I’d have to go out on a limb and say that I liked Land of the Dead better. Which says a lot, I think. It’s still a must see, and it’s still got some awesome zombie action, but it’s definitely in the bottom of my ranking as far as Romero’s Holy Quintet goes. Fortunately, he will have the chance to redeem himself. Word is that he will begin filming of Diary of the Dead 2 in September. We’ll have to see. So – as a zombie fan and a lover of all things Romero – I recommend Diary of the Dead.

Let me put it this way, even Romero’s worst zombie film is a hundred times better than most of the other low budget, low rent crap out there that passes as zombie films today. Every modern zombie filmmaker needs to bend a knee and kiss Romero’s ring. So; see it, own it, add it to the collection – just don’t expect it to be more than it is…

Doctor Zombie’s Rating: 3 1/2 out of 5 Chomped Brains

I'm such a 10 year old...

I absolutely can't stop laughing at this picture.



I don't know why it's so funny... it just is. Whether it's the onomatopaeic qualities, or just the fact that it's a perfect encapsulation of what the picture should sound like. It's comic genius. I'm seriously sitting in my cube and having trouble breathing because I'm trying not to laugh outloud, lest my cubemates think I'm suffering some sort of psychotic breakdown. Oh god. it hurts.

Oh, jeez... I just laughed so hard a little pee came out...

***In way of giving proper photo credits... the poster was gratuitously stolen from Zombie Squad's Motivational Poster thread, and it was created by super mod /crazy Welshman, Brash.

Crap! Where've I Been?!?

So yeah... I've been away for a month. Where'd the time go?

I'd like to say that I've been gone because I've been off on a secret mission for the CIA, or something cool like that. But, alas, it's been much more mundane than all that.

Let's see... I've been working, working, working; and I've had no time to post up here. Truth be told, things are tight with the economy and Dr. Z's had to get himself a second job. So, when I'm not working for the man as a corporate drone during the week... I'm working double shifts on the weekends at our local hospital.

That's right, Doctor Z's a security guard. I've got a uniform, with a badge, a radio, and some keys...

It's not as glamorous as mall security, but it's got it's excitement.

I get to babysit psych patients, manhandle Saturday night drunks, roust the homeless from the hospital chapel, and... here's the best part.. I get to carry, check in, and check out bodies from the morgue.

That's right, folks. I somehow always end up with the dead bodies. It's the burden of being Doctor Zombie I guess.

So that's part of the reason I haven't been posting as much. The other's just plain laziness.

So... just some quick thoughts off the top of my head....

Movies: I haven't seen half of the movies I wanted to see because I've been so busy with work. No X-Files, no Hellboy. I did see Dark Knight and it was every bit as good as I'd heard. "Wanna see a magic trick?" is my new favorite quote! I've also been doing the dollar movies thing lately becauxse it's cheaper, but every flick I've seen I've taken WolfGirl or Zombie Boy to see... so I've seen Speed Racer, Prince Caspian, and Iron Man (for the second time). If there's anything I lament about my new, busy work life; it's my inability to see good quality movies. I did get a copy of Romero's Diary of the Dead finally. I'll be posting a review of it soon...

What else? Hmmm... Oh yeah! A friend at work loaned me Seasons One and Two of the Venture Bros. My god! This is the greatest cartoon of all time!!! If you haven't seen it yet, please please please check it out. You won't regret it...

Finally, last night was the first pre-season game for my beloved Clevleand Browns. Yeah... it sucked. Our first team came out and kicked ass and took names. Brady Quinn did a good job besides throwing an interception, and even recovered from that to march the ball down field for a TD. (I'm still not convinced that Quinn is the god-like figure many here in Cleveland paint him to be. Derek Anderson is a hell of a quarterback and his showing last season has earned him the first position... no matter how many whinge that Quinn is like Brian Sipe incarnated.) What else did I want to say about the Browns? Let's see, the second half sucked ass and if Ken Dorsey NEVER plays again, I'll be happy. He threw 15 incomplete passes - IN A ROW. Eight of those were to receivers in the damned end zone. Grrrrr... Oh well, it's preseason, and the first stringers looked good. This is the year... I can feel it...

Anyway, gotta go. I'll post more next week, I promise...

Cheating Death Part III

So I've been my usually irreverent, flippant self about this whole motorcycle accident.

I had a cold dose of reality tonight.

I spent Sunday and part of tonight working on getting my Harley back together. Believe it or not, I was able to cludge and futz it back together. I honestly spent a grand total of $3.44 at Lowe's hardware getting bolts and washers. (I will freely admit I may have gotten stainless steel hardware, and written the zinc product numbers on the bag - - but I know I'm still under $10.)

So I got the bike back together and decided to take a run over to my buddy Snake's shop.... to just give the bike a shakedown after the accident. Snake owns SS Customs in Kirtland Ohio and he is a mechanical and designing genius when it comes to choppers and cars. He's also one of the coolest guys in the world - - he'd literally give you the shirt off of his back. Make sure you check out his site. It's over there in my links (SS Customs stands for Sick Shit Customs, by the way). In fact, if you look carefully, you'll find pictures of Dr. Zombie over there from various gatherings and on my bike - - but you've got to look closely.

Anyway, I stop in to see Snake and he had some bad news for me. Seems I'm not the only guy to have wrecked lately. I was just a shit load more lucky.

Snake's business partner, Dennis (who we call Cowboy) and Snake were coming back from dinner one night on their bikes about three weeks ago. Snake and another buddy got stuck at a light and Cowboy went on up State Route 6. While Snake and the other guy waited at the light, a woman crossed the center line and hit Cowboy head on.

Snake rolled up a couple minutes later to find Cowboy's Harley Deuce in pieces and Cowboy in pieces too.

Snake held Cowboy by the side of the road while he screamed and bled, then rode with him on the life flight helicopter to Cuyahoga County Metro Health Emergency.

Cowboy lived, but they had to amputate his left leg at the knee.

That - - for lack of a better word - - fucking sucks.

Dennis is a good guy, and you hate to hear about this kind of stuff. It's especially hard when it's someone you know. Add to that the fact that I had what is in all reality a very minor motorcycle accident - - but it also makes me realize how lucky I was.

I came home after hearing about it and gave Mrs. Zombie a hug and apologized for scaring her so much on Friday and let her know that I really understand how big a bullet I dodged.

And I did ride with a helmet tonight. It seemed only right.

On a positive note, Snake says that Dennis is doing good and should actually be out of the hospital in a couple weeks. He's got a lot of therapy and needs to relearn how to walk with a prosthetic leg... but he's already said he will keep riding.

He also insists he's no longer Cowboy. His new name is going to be Peg-Leg Dennis, or something sufficiently pirate-like.

Here's hoping to a quick recovery, brother Dennis...

Cheating Death Part II

And the documenting of my Motorcycle accident goes on!

Day two of the swollen angry thigh from hell!!!

Fear the bruise! Fear my angry bruise! Muwahahahah!




Don't mind the gratuitous shot of my Spiderman underwear...

Cheating Death

So - I figured I'd post this here because I know a lot of my friends get information about me through my site.

So - I was rushing home yesterday night (Friday 6/20) because it was mine and Mrs. Zombie's 10 year anniversary. We were having our families over for a small cookout and I wanted to get there so I could help out.

So - - I'm coming up State Route 84 on my Harley...doing about 25 or 30. I was accelerating up to 35 and - truthfully - I was winding up to it pretty quick.

That's when the guy in front of me - with out of state plates - slams on his brakes.

That's right, folks...

I wrecked my Harley.

I locked up my brakes and tried to swing out around him, but there wasn't enough room. I slammed into the back of this guy's 1984 Chevy. Since he managed to jam his brakes enough to stop and then proceed to go forward again - - I think it lessened my impact some. I flipped up and over my handlebars.

What's amazing is that I actually managed to not bash my skull on anything. Looking back - I know what saved me - years of aikido training. I went over the handlebars and all of my martial arts training, muscle memory, whatever.. kicked in. I tucked and rolled on the road and popped back up to a kneeling position. Just in time to see the Harley slam to the ground and skid to a stop a few feet away, the throttle winding up with a horrid roar.

I got up and limped over to the bike just as the guy who stopped in front of me got out of his car with a terrified look on his face.

Shaking from the adrenaline and excitement, I looked at him and said, "Are you okay?" Like he wasn't all safe and comfy in his heavy, Detroit made box, like he was somehow going to get injured by my flipping over the handle bars of my bike.

The guy behind me also got out. They helped me get my Harley up, popped into neutral, and rolled to the side of the road. After assuring all around that I was, in fact, fine, I pushed my bike down a block and parked it.

Then I had to call Mrs. Zombie.

The horror of almost dying, the horror of watching my beloved Harley skid across the ground, the shaking sick-to-my-stomach-because-I'm-coming-down-from-an-adrenaline-dump feeling... all of this paled in comparison to the shameful terror I felt in having to call the wife; with our family at the house.

So, she came to where I was... crying. She then followed me home as I limped the Harley to the house.

To make it even more awesome - my whole family's waiting on the porch when I get home.

It was not fun.

So - - you may be asking, "What's the damage, Dr. Z?"

Let me give you the run down...

In going airborne and launching myself over the front end of the bike, I managed to crack the clamp holding my ape hangers and my apes are now hanging uselessly around the gas tank. I snapped off my right side forward control footpeg, and my throttle's all fucked up (I suspect part of the problem is that there's all kinds of stress on the throtttle cable because my handlebars are ass backwards.)

Unbelievably, I didn't scratch the paint, or ding any of the tins, even though I watched the bike skid across the concrete. I did manage to snap off the end of my brake lever and scratch the chrome on my mirror on the same side. I also but a pretty deep, but small scratch in the chrome of one of my exhaust shields.

I faired about as well as the bike. Even though I didn't have anything broken off of me, my one kneee is kind of sore from the impact. My left thigh, though, that's a thing of fucking beauty. I think I hit it on the apes when I went over, which is what cracked the clamp. The inside of my thigh is sore and has begun to turn the most brilliant purple color. And when i say the inside of my thigh - I mean the ENTIRE INSIDE OF MY THIGH. From my knee to just shy of my groin, from the front all the way to the back, it's turning some really cool violet shades.

And boy does it hurt. So does my whole body for that matter. It's the following day now and I ache all over, as one would think after having had a motorcycle accident. Tylenol is my friend...

So, that's it. I somehow managed to not kill myself, and not do too much damage to my beloved Harley. Either way, it was still a good anniversary - even though Mrs. Zombie is frequently looking at me and shaking her head and saying with derision, "You're a moron!"

Pictures of the damage...


Here's my leg. The camera cannot capture how purple and angry the bruise looks...


Here's my gimped Ape Hangers



...and my broken brake lever


...And my broken forward control.

I'll try and get more pictures of the bruise as it grows because it's cool and chicks dig scars!!!!