On Zombies
A fantastic Halloween mask? For sure! More than that, a cultural icon. Zombies are rooted deep in our collective imaginations.
It is significant that since George HW
Bush declared the beginning of the New World Order in the 1980’s,
Americans have increasingly sought to exteriorize and examine their
social unease in the symbolic form of imaginary beings such as elves,
vampires, werewolves, and zombies. Each of these creature cults has
its own specific associations within the social realm, but I will
limit myself here to the cult of zombies, as typified in the
popularity of the television series “The Walking Dead.”
First of all, it is important to
specify that we are speaking here of neo-zombies, rather than the
traditional zombies associated with voodoo. The latter were always
under the control of a designated spell cast by a designated priest
or priestess possessing the knowledge of how to create the living
dead from either live or deceased subjects to do their personal
bidding. It is interesting to note that, while anchored in certain
mainly African practices, the voodoo zombie has always been
associated with the New World, that is, the Americas, and in
particularly Haiti, Brazil, or other Latin American locations.
The neo-zombie is also principally
associated with the New World, though there have been some instances
of British and other cultural manifestations. New World and New
World Order are in many ways closely associated, so it is not
unnatural that the neo-zombie should make a resurgence during the
post-Bush era. The cultural popularity of neo-zombies traces from
the horror film “Night of the Living Dead” of 1968 and we shall
return to discuss how many features of that film were precocious in
prefiguring the central elements of the zombie cult. However, for
the moment, it would be more appropriate to continue at this point
with a further structural hypothesis about the significance of the
neo-zombie in the third millennium.
Unlike the classical voodoo zombie, the
neo-zombie has no distinct causality. It is not under the control of
any perceptible conscious force. The neo-zombie always originates
from the grave, or at least from the state of death, rather than
being a live human under the spell of sorcery. The origins of the
zombie phenomenon are deliberately occulted in zombie culture.
Commonly, some plausible pseudo-scientific explanation is at least
suggested: arrival of spores from outer space, mutated viruses,
research gone wrong, etc. Yet there is little importance or time
devoted to the discussion of such matters for several major reasons,
all associated with the cult of survivalism that is the human
counterpane of the zombie cult. Humans in contact with zombies are
typically “average” people rather than scientists or doctors, and
their encounters with learned human survivors are generally
disappointing if not fruitless. The wave of zombie destruction has
almost invariably reduced human civilization to a point of near Stone
Age conditions, entailing the disappearance of laboratories or other
higher institutions capable of providing an analysis of zombies. The
survivors lack the time or motivation for pursuing such questions
themselves, since zombies always pop up from nowhere to interrupt
even the simplest of life’s routines. The zombies themselves, in
the perpetual search for flesh or brains, do not possess the
intellect to ask the simplest questions of why they exist or how
their condition can be bettered.
The lack of a sense of causality in the
zombie cult coincides with the cultural notions of postmodernism,
which eschews such explanations as being pointless or false. In
postmodernism, logic springs only from relatively primitive sources
such as the quest for dominance or the need for physical
gratification; all notions of a universal logic based on impartial
premises is dismissed through distrust that any such valid premises
could exist. Logic becomes much like magic in that it is a powerful
projection of desire. Thus zombies offer the public mind the
advantages of magic without being fettered by concerns for
verisimilitude or explanation that would otherwise apply in a
universe postulating the existence of some form of universal logic.
Zombies are both generalized and particularized in a uniquely
convenient way to articulate a pseudo-philosophical base for the
social concerns of humans, and especially Americans as New Order
humans, in the third millennium.
Zombies are thus phenomenologically
self-evident: they are there and one has to do something about them.
Yet, the only thing survivors can really do about them is kill as
many as possible and try to survive, despite the fact that zombies
apparently cannot be wiped out. All the ramifications of human
existence become compressed within the parameters of the survival
imperative, which seems to depend on the abililty to inflict death
individually on zombies by destroying their heads. Whether the
zombie cult public identifies with the desperate survivors or, more
likely, with the unidimensional zombies,1
they can expect the necessity of contemplating a lot of blood and
gore.
Both the zombie and the survivor are
complementary representations of a sense of radical disconnectedness.
Anomie affects the zombies themselves because there is no
differentiation in zombie existence: they all act the same and their
motivating hunger, though rooted in each zombie, is exactly the same
among all zombies. For this reason, zombies never compete with each
other. In one sense, the depiction of zombies offers a worst case
scenario for the outcome of the Dilbert vision of New World society,
where individuals are reduced to meaningless roles that threaten both
to absorb their entire existence and to efface any particularity of a
positive type.2
The processes of Dilbert’s corporation are as vague as the zombie
genesis and seem to go on without any concern for logic. Workers are
arbitrarily classed as engineers or marketing or IT, despite the fact
(or perhaps because of it) that their functionality seems to be
warped or completely futile. Take away the cubicles and the coffee
cups, substitute a hunger for gore, and the Dilbert characters easily
become zombies in endless supply. Zombies can be likened to a kind
of Lumpenproletariat. The radical connectedness of zombyism.
As for humans, their pre-holocaust
existence is mostly destroyed, persisting only as a king of ghostly
projection that allows for some semblance of plot movement in a
landscape where everything else has been leveled. Survivors can
compete, but only within the imperative of killing zombies and
continuing to survive. They are radically disconnected even from
what ostensibly meaningful personal relationships they enjoyed in the
pre-holocaust universe. Loved ones have disappeared (sometimes to
return as killable zombies) or complicated things by developing
interim relationships with other survivors. They have no work, other
than survival.
1
Zombies have become popular Halloween characters. A 2012 survey by
the National Retail Foundation found that zombies ranked as the
fifth most popular costume for adults and the ninth most popular for
children, a rather revealing difference in the parameters of this
study. Also, television casting calls for zombie extras are swamped
with would-be zombies. For several reasons, the same is not true
with survivors.
2
Interestingly, the character of Wally, with his rejection of
institutional useless, represents a kind of revolt against this
universe, but it is much like the alternative offered by the
Artilleryman in H. G. Wells’s War of the Worlds, where the revolt
is limited to a meaningless retreat beneath the surface of society.