When There's No More Room In Hell...

I’m a fan of the horror film. I’m a big fan of the sub-genre, zombie film. Good ones though, and as far as the good ones go, George Romero has it in spades. Mr. Romero made the original Night of the Living Dead, which is a classic, but for just sheer balls out, social commentary rich, zombie action, you gotta go with Dawn of the Dead.

Dawn of the Dead is not only one of the best zombie films, it’s one of the best horror films ever made. Yup, I said it.

I remember the commercials for the film back when it came out in the late seventies, but I did not see it until I was a young teenager. This intense story of a pack of survivors holing up in a shopping mall during a zombie apocalypse turned my head around. Gory, undoubtedly the goriest thing I had seen at that point, and yet just sharp and intelligently funny.

That was a long preamble to telling you I recently re-watched Shaun of the Dead (which, seriously, I cannot praise enough. Just a great, great, funny film… with zombies). A sort of running joke in Shaun of the Dead is that before the zombies begin to take over, it is difficult to tell that the everyday people weren’t already zombies.

This began to prey on my mind as I walked through the cold and dark streets of Seattle this morning round about five in the AM. There were a large number of people shambling about, a larger number than during the week; shambling around like, well like zombies.

I got to thinking, you know, if the zombie apocalypse happened while I was asleep, how would I know that these early morning street junkies weren’t flesh eating ghouls? I began to mentally catalogue the contents of my bag, wondering what was in there that could take down the undead. Would I have the power and wherewithal to use my metal address/check book as a weapon?

Frankly, I already had enough on my mind worrying about getting mugged for skag money. Damn you, overactive imagination!