I think this is my favorite pic of Sherill and I at Zombie Prom. I’m so glad I asked Spiggycat to snap our picture, she’s a genius with portraiture. That dress weighs over 5 pounds, now I remember why I never wear it – it’s exhausting!
Husband went low-fi. He wore some gauze to hold his decaying limbs on and pinned a nametag to his shirt that said “Rob.”
At the airport blogging by blackberry. For me, this is generally a recipe for disaster so this is more of a placeholder than anything else. Not posting daily this weeks means my daily unique visitors have fallen around 200 and if there’s one thing I’ve learned this week at sxsw it’s that your self-esteem is a product of your google analytics so at this rate I’m gonna be listening to emo and staring at my shoes by Thursday.
I actually intended an erudite yet pithy post to hold you over til I return, but I forgot to post it. Let’s be honest, I forgot to write it, too.I pulled out my laptop at the Blogger’s lounge and forgot to blog. Who else does that? Can “absent minded professor” be my title on my new business cards?
I need to use the ladies room. I still haven’t found an oatmeal cookie. I’m looking forward to watching TV for the 1st time in a week. I’m looking forward to sleeping in my own bed.I’m pretty sure I sweat tequila now.
It’s really really time to go home.catch you cats and kittens on the flipside.
Today I got to meet the evil geniuses behind Lost Zombies.
I was afraid my infected sticker was going to get caught in my scarf and fall off so I moved it to my notebook:
Since I’m zombified, does that get me off the hook vis-a-vis lucid conference coverage? No? Darn. Well, tomorrow I’m going to play a bit of catch-up, I didn’t feel like dragging my laptop around all day today and I’m not the best iphone blogger ever. Or at all.
In the meantime – you can follow some of what’s going on at sxsw at the sxsw interactive + film site. You can search twitter, too, but the s/n is pretty fucking high – it’s driving me crazy and I’m here.
On that note – time to think about heading over to the opening night party.
The BBC recently ran a 5-part horror/comedy-type series about Zombies called “Dead Set.” The series has been well-received and also go lots of critical acclaim. I haven’t seen it, but I still enjoyed the piece Simon Pegg (Shaun of the Dead) penned for the Guardian regarding the fact that the “Dead Set” zombies can run:
I know it is absurd to debate the rules of a reality that does not exist, but this genuinely irks me. You cannot kill a vampire with an MDF stake; werewolves can’t fly; zombies do not run. It’s a misconception, a bastardisation that diminishes a classic movie monster. The best phantasmagoria uses reality to render the inconceivable conceivable. The speedy zombie seems implausible to me, even within the fantastic realm it inhabits. A biological agent, I’ll buy. Some sort of super-virus? Sure, why not. But death? Death is a disability, not a superpower. It’s hard to run with a cold, let alone the most debilitating malady of them all.
More significantly, the fast zombie is bereft of poetic subtlety. As monsters from the id, zombies win out over vampires and werewolves when it comes to the title of Most Potent Metaphorical Monster. Where their pointy-toothed cousins are all about sex and bestial savagery, the zombie trumps all by personifying our deepest fear: death. Zombies are our destiny writ large. Slow and steady in their approach, weak, clumsy, often absurd, the zombie relentlessly closes in, unstoppable, intractable.
Reservoir Carl and a few others in the know recommended some quality Zombie films for my Halloween fest, and I’ve noted the titles for a Thanksgiving marathon.
I always forget to recommend the podcast MailOrderZombie to Carl, so I’ll do it now.
I’m so tired I’m starting to suspect I’m being turned into a zombie. Can you prove it couldn’t happen?
Don’t you hate it when you start out writing a nice story about squirrels spreading some sort of viral zombie disease among a bunch of artists and you end up writing about terrorists wrecking a wedding? Eh, there could still be zombies. And, as Husband has suggested, maybe the only way to kill the genetically modified terrorist-controlled zombies is by raising the dead and sending traditional voodoo-inspired zombies to destroy them.
Husband has been practicing turning off his brain so we can resume our Galactica 1980 marathon, so I may not want to listen to him. Galactica 1980 is the perfect Writer’s Guild Strike viewing choice, because no writers were involved in the making of this show.
I love Nathan Fillion lots and lots, so it was making me sad that basically the chances of getting me to his new movie, slither, fell somewhere on the chart between slim and none. I love flying almost as much as I love snakes, so the idea of a movie about a planeful of snakes…and directed by the man who wrote Scooby Doo 2*? Well, that just wasn’t happening for me.
Out of the blue it dawned on me today: I thought the snake movie starred Samuel L. Jackson. So I hit google and, well, let’s just say, duh.
Slither isn’t about snakes on a plane. Snakes on a Plane is about snakes on a plane.
*To be fair, although he wrote Scooby Doo and Scooby Doo 2, I think we should cut James Gunn some slack because he also wrote and directed Sgt. Kabukiman Public Service Announcement.
He also had a role in the project, as “Insane Masturbator.”
Seriously. Check the link. I’m not making that up. How great is that? I’d completely forgotten about Sgt. Kabukiman.
While I was at the Troma Films site I noticed that they’re having a contest where you can win a role as a zombie chicken in their new opus, Poultrygeist. That’s a role I was born to play. The movie appears to already by in post-production so they probably don’t need anymore cast members, but a potential-zombie-chicken-girl can dream, can’t she?