Zombies--does anyone really need one?

The time of Halloween is upon us and thoughts naturally turn to such things as sugar skulls, chocolate candy, plastic pumpkins and, of course, zombies.

Sugar skulls from sugarskull.com.

The theory is that zombies are a type of undead monster that has been reanimated from the dead and lurches about insatiably eating brains or human flesh and generally acting in a socially inappropriate fashion. This is even worse than the faux pas committed by Sheldon Cooper when he accidentally picked up some cadaver brains instead of sashimi. It is worthy of note, that he is afraid of zombies and therefore cannot watch the Thriller video that heralded the advent of MTV.

Zombies are also quite dangerous in other ways. If a zombie bites or scratches you, the choices are to allow yourself to be eaten or to become a zombie yourself. This tends to make other people rather nervous and shy of the company of zombies and also leads to activities like mass burning the zombies or blowing them up. All of which is a bit yucky, to say the least.

(left and below) image of zombies from Night of the Living Dead. Images from the film and its advertising are in the public domain in the United States

As you can clearly see, zombies are not fun and do not make good pets. They also dress badly.

The treatment of zombies in film is generally straightforward; however, literary depictions range from the rather simple range of fast and slow zombies in The Forest of Hands and Teeth, a young adult novel that has enjoyed a great deal of success and spawned two sequels and a companion book. (Many people like this book. MightyIsis was up for three days after reading it, which is a testament to the power and realism of the prose.)

Another handling of zombies can be found in American Gods, an acclaimed fantasy novel by Neil Gaiman, who is best known in some circles for the Sandman graphic novel series (that also kept MightyIsis up at night). In American Gods, zombies are described as men who think they are dead and therefore can use this knowledge as license for their various zombie activities. Disturbing as this is, it is also quite an interesting statement on human nature.

None of which, of course, explains why a friend once told MightyIsis, "sometimes you just need a zombie." Really? Outside of the context of making a horror movie?

This was a bit of a stumper (note: not a good word to use while interviewing to become a professor), but MightyIsis gutted through it and finally came up with a zombie needing scenario.

The acapella group Rockapella is perhaps best known for the the theme song to a children's program called "Where in the World is Carmen San Diego"? However, they also do a really interesting version of a song called "Zombie Jamboree." The performance is adorable...

sometimes you just really need a zombie jamboree....?

Well, maybe not.

Of course, there is a social situation in which zombies are actually needed, which is the zombie walk. MightyIsis accidentally attended one of these recently while looking for Faniuel Hall with a friend. But most of the zombies there were regular people dressed as zombies. And none of them were eating brains or human flesh.

Fair use rationale for sugar skull image: use of this image as an illustration for purposes of criticism or comment, is not an infringement of copyright based on: the purpose and character of the use, which is not for profit, uses only a small portion of the copyrighted work, and does not infringe upon the commercial use of the original work.

Benchtosis

In The Big Bang Theory, Howard Wolowitz posits that his friend, Sheldon Cooper, is most likely to reproduce via mitosis, a process generally reserved for cells. Theoretically, Sheldon would consume mass quantities of Thai food (although perhaps not quite as much as the Coneheads would), then divide into two separate Sheldons. The humor value in this little joke is considerable, although I understand that explaining it would ruin the fun. Suffice it to say that mitosis was offered in lieu of sexual reproduction.

(Left) Image of cell life cycles, including mitosis (labelled as "c"). Public Domain image by EB Wilson.

Of course, there is no evidence that people can reproduce by mitosis or that Thai food can cause unusual reproduction. At least not on Wikipedia. (I'm not really planning to research this.)

Nevertheless, there is a possibility that unusual reproduction, or even mitosis, may occur in other contexts. Well, mostly cells, but what if other things didn't reproduce the way we all thought?

Take for example, the benches of Ljubljana, a lovely city in Slovenja (which formerly was part of Yugoslavia, although that was only after it had been dragged behind the Iron Curtain rather against its will). Ljubljana is a really beautiful and delightful city that has many fine features (and book stores). It is also the home of Slavoj Zizek, who is a really remarkable theorist and apparently quite fond of the word "qua."

The nice man from the Comic Book Store (no, the new one) even recommended the hot dogs, which were just fine. The hot dog vendors actually carve a tunnel into the bun, which makes the application of toppings a bit interactive, but there's less squirting than you'd get with a Nathan's hot dog.

Arial view of Ljubljana (photo taken by MightyIsis's alter ego RegularIsis). Pretty.

One of the interesting and distinctive things about Ljubljana is its dragons. There are four of them, and they guard the bridge a little ways from the town center. They all look exactly the same, possibly because they came from the same mold. This would be a kind of reproduction, but not mitosis. In fact, if Walter Benjamin is to be believed, these dragons, nifty as the are, might not really be art because of the way they were mechanically reproduced. Marcel DuChamp, who is well-known for putting rather-more-than-slightly-used urinals on display at museums under the cheerfully deceptive title of "fountain" might probably have disagreed if he were asked. Although he may just have casted some in chrome and displayed them himself. (Note: Art Historians get upset if you refer to him as "that urinal guy.")

(Left) one of the four guardian bridge dragons. Not produced by mitosis or sexual reproduction. Also, possibly not really art.

(below, right) "Fountain" by Marcel DuChamp. Public Domain image. Not terribly hygienic and undoubtedly mass produced. However, definitely art.

Another interesting thing in Ljubljana is the presence of many cute, glossy little benches. So adorable. Also quite convenient for eating any hot dogs you may have happened to have bought. They provide a nice surface for setting down your cola so you can apply ketchup (or the topping of your choice) to the hot dog you just bought.

(below) Another cute bench. One of many such benches to be found, displaying another option in the plethora of bright, shiny colors to be seen.


Around the city, particularly in the major pedestrian shopping zones, the little benches sit perkily waiting for a weary walker. They have, as you can see, different little color combinations as well.


This all seems innocent enough... doesn't it?

MightyIsis had been given to understand that most benches do not reproduce, but rather are mass produced (no, not really like mass quantities, although those can be mass produced as well), and therefore do not have to engage in mitosis.

...but then, it seemed that some of the benches were not just hanging out waiting for tourists to find a safe haven for consuming hot dogs, coca-colas and possibly a nice packet of "crisps" (which is a fancy foreign word for "potato chips").

(Above, left) a nice little bench with red and blue slats. Very handy for sitting.

Of course, some of the benches seemed to have friends. Which could be handy for sitting with larger groups of people... and hot dogs.

(left) two little benches. Convenient for sitting with a friend or maybe two, and able to accommodate several hot dogs or perhaps a pizza.

Some locations, like the central area where several streets come together had longer benches, more like the standard park bench one might see in London or New York.

but then... the longer benches started acting a bit strange...

Since the benches lacked any obvious means of propulsion and were extremely heavy, it appeared that something quite serious was up....


indeed...

There was definitely some movement.

I am given to understand that benches are not terribly quick-moving, so this much have taken some effort.

After a day or two of pondering this movement, I decided that I was just imagining things.

And then, what to my wondering eyes should appear...

Perhaps next time I'll eat elsewhere...

Figure credit: Mitosis: Figure 2 of: Wilson, Edmund B. (1900). The cell in Development and Inheritance, second edition, New York: The Macmillan Company.

The Story of Dave and the Lilac Bush

Lilacs, part of the olive family, are the state flower of New Hampshire and a common feature of the suburban landscape in the greater New York metropolitan area. In fact, I first encountered the lilac as a child, in the back yard of a suburban house and my parents currently have a couple of lilac bushes growing near the red maple tree. The lilac is an early flower and a harbinger of spring, which explains its frequent presence in Easter bonnets and early associations

with colored eggs, lilacs and chocolate bunnies that taste a lot like the plastic they were wrapped in.

Popular culture representations of the lilac are, I think, rather infrequent. The first one I noticed was in the Doonesbury comic strip, where it provided a comic statement on investigative reporting--when Roland Hedly III submitted a photo of a lilac bush as strong evidence of marijuana use in communes. This was my first exposure to the possibility that the lilac bush could provide an ironic or comic value, rather than merely signifying the spring or perhaps the impending deluge of chocolate and jelly beans that meant "Easter" to me as a child.

My second unexpected encounter with a lilac came during my first semester of college. I'd chosen a school that described itself as "off the beaten track" by which, at the time, I supposed was meant "has no pavements." (They have since been supplied.)

I moved into a dormitory that had been built into a ravine on stilts and swayed alarmingly whenever there was a stiff breeze. On the plus side, there was a small waterfall outside my window, which provided soothing background noise for a restful sleep, at least when it wasn't frozen. At the time, I was not certain that it fully compensated for the fear that the dormitory could tip into the ravine, travel in the creek down to the Hudson River and be well en route to Lisbon by the time I awoke.

After my first not-so-restful night in the swaying dorm, I was at lunch with a kind woman who went on to win the women's studies prize the year we graduated. The food was a bit strange, and my tray said "tray of redundancy tray" in indelible ink on the tray. We were having a mildly pleasant conversation when the person who would become a good friend catapulted himself into a chair. He was unshaven and strangely dressed, and accompanied by a friend. They looked at us expectantly "You're new" Dave announced. His friend laughed and slapped him playfully on the arm, a fine moment in homosocial bonding (they had a lot of these).

We had an interesting lunch and I wandered off to "Set Theory" which was an interesting course. It had a lot of Venn diagrams in it.

Later that night, on consulting with my friends in the swaying dorm, I learned that Dave was regarded as a comical figure by many and that he and his friend felt it was imperative to greet all new young women, even though they were a couple (They weren't). Later that evening, while walking backward down the ravine road with another friend (we didn't have television and had to make our own entertainment), she said that Dave and his friend could be seen in their bathrobes on the wall outside the dining commons on weekends before breakfast. I also learned that he liked to talk a lot in class, especially if he had not done the reading. Little did I know that he would become one of my best friends.

A few weeks later, having seen the spectacle of Dave and his friend in their bathrobes first-hand, I was in the waterfall--not the one outside my dorm room (there were a few falls on campus)--deciding that I should put my sneakers back on to deal with the sharp rocks when Dave came crashing out of the woods carrying a huge stick firmly in his right hand. He saw me, stopped and said "would you like to see the fish?"

Well, why not? It's not every day that you get such an offer. The fish were located among the rocks just above the falls, where (I guess) they were hoping not to be dashed to bits. As I wedged my feet, now protected by Keds, between the stones, I found myself hoping that I, too, was not dashed to bits. As we hovered over a fish, Dave told me knowledgeably that it was "some sort of trout." He couldn't have known, because I really don't like to talk about it, but I had been engaged to a real outdoorsy guy and I'd spent many hours watching the sun rise over (optimistically) fish-laden waters. So, I said that it was a brook trout (because it was). Dave reacted to this bit of intelligence by nimbly hopping back to the shore, leaving me stranded in the middle of the falls. The fish looked kind of amused, but I wasn't.

That might have been the end of that, and I would have missed out on a decades long friendship with a truly lovely person who has a heart of gold, which possibly explains how he was able to win the affections of a truly lovely and remarkable woman (I'm referring to his partner).

And then came the lilacs, although there must have been some other contact or I doubt he would have stopped by that afternoon just to be pelted with information about fish. Dave found me on the back porch, reading a book against the backdrop of waterfall, flowers and trees that was the ravine that particular afternoon.

He spoke. I jumped, then turned, and Dave offered to show me "something amazing."

I could have replied that he already was, since he was dressed in his bathrobe--which he to this day insists was a kimono (although we all agree that it was blue)--which he had left open over a very impressive chest of hair and a pair of cut off shorts that was much shorter on one side and had strings hanging past his knees. They looked like they'd been cut off with a steak knife. He was also wearing a pair of hush puppies that had the soles cut off and replaced with a functional layer of duct tape. He called these his "moccasins." I would come to know them well as "those things," a name originally bestowed on them by his mother.

Oddly enough, I had been nursing a little bit of a crush on Dave before the "fish incident," so I happy trotted along behind him to see whatever amazing thing this was. we progressed down the row of swaying stilt dorms (there were quite a number of these) and found ourselves by the ruins of an old chapel. Dave passed this and waved his arms triumphantly at... a lilac bush.

It was, I suppose, rather a nice lilac bush, as lilac bushes go. But it was actually not really at all "amazing." I found myself in a quandary because there was really nothing I could say as Dave stood there beaming at having shown me something amazing (assuming he found nothing out of the ordinary about his outfit). Thankfully, he then dove into the bush, immersing himself in the blossoms and acting in a highly gruntled manner. This was truly quite amazing.

We then went back to my room and played "cootie" and Dave ate my chocolate Easter bunnies. Yes, the ones that tasted like the plastic wrappings they had come in. He bit the heads off first and got chocolate all over my ABC's comforter, but it seemed less important to me than the amazing fact that he had never seen a cootie game before.

All images from wikipedia. Lilac images are all in the public domain. Credits: Anthony Appleyard, Wouter Hagens.Trout image from the department of fish and wildlife by Eric Engbretson. Bathrobe is a public domain image by Hmwith. Roland Hedley image and Cootie game image: The copyright for these images is most likely owned by either the publisher of the comic or board game or the writer(s)and/or artist(s) that produced it. It is believed that the use of low-resolution images of a single panel from a comic strip to illustrate the copyrighted character(s) or group(s) depicted on the excerpted panel in question or low resolution images of a board game; where no free alternative exists or can be created, hosted on servers in the US without person profit qualifies as fair use under United States copyright law so long as they are without profit and do not affect the use or other value of the original.